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ENCYCLOPEDIA BMTANNICA
SEVENTH EDITION.
‘
■ , •• ■ . •'
. i .
ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA
DICTIONARY
OF
ARTS, SCIENCES, AND GENERAL LITERATURE.
SEVENTH EDITION,
WITH PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS ON THE HISTORY OF THE SCIENCES,
AND
OTHER EXTENSIVE IMPROVEMENTS AND ADDITIONS;
INCLUDING THE LATE SUPPLEMENT,
A GENERAL INDEX,
AND NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.
VOLUME I.
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK, EDINBURGH;
M.DCCC.XLII.
.
■
PREFACE.
It is now seventy years since the first appearance of the Encyclopaedia
Britannica. During that period it has exhibited great and various muta¬
tions. Consisting at first of three quarto volumes of moderate size, it now
appears in twenty-one; each in quantity of matter equaling rfiore than two
of the original prototype. Its internal changes have been still more signal.
Though its plan was always judicious, in as far as regarded the treatment of
the Sciences, it was in other respects extremely circumscribed. But, as it
advanced, the whole circle of human knowledge came to be included within
its wide embrace. Showing, in its earlier stages, no literary skill above the
level of decent abridgement or compilation, it is now composed of treatises
which in no respect yield to the other original and finished productions of the
age. The workmanship, at first, of a few comparatively undistinguished
literary denizens of its native place; its list of contributors now includes a
large portion of that learned host by whom the mental sovereignty of Britain
is upheld. Thus, from being viewed as only a convenient digest of infor¬
mation suited, chiefly, to the wants of the unlearned; it must now be considered
as one of the most dignified and efficient expedients for the diffusion of matured
a
VI
PREFACE.
knowledge, of every description, that the Bepublic of Letters has yet pro¬
duced.
Some details of its progressive improvements cannot be viewed as here
misplaced. They are, indeed, necessary to the full illustration of its structure
and contents. But, as it always differed materially from all its predecessors
of the same class, it may not be improper briefly to notice the more pro¬
minent of these, before giving any account of its own plan and progress, or
attending to those crowning recommendations under which it now appears in
its Seventh edition.
This class of publications belongs entirely to the modern world; for
though the Ancients had the term, there were not amongst them any compi¬
lations resembling those to which the Moderns have applied it. Yet it is
a class which, instead of only appearing, as theoretical history would lead us
to imagine, at an advanced stage of intellectual culture, and amidst a great
accumulation of books, seems to have originated and risen to much favour at
a comparatively early period of modern literature. Thus we find Encyclo¬
paedias common in the latter half of the sixteenth, and first half of the seven¬
teenth centuries, and every where enjoying a large share of estimation* The
works then so denominated, were intended to comprise, within a moderate
compass, a series of systematic digests applicable either to some of the great
departments of knowledge and art, or to the whole body of human learning.
The “ Natural History ” of Pliny has sometimes been styled an Encyclopaedia;
and he has himself said that it embraced all that the Greeks designated by the
term. But this can only have reference to the compass and variety of its mat¬
ter, not to arrangement or method ; in which it has nothing in common with
those collective digests which, during the period mentioned, appropriated that
name. If there were any anterior compilations of a similar nature, we must
look for them, not among the remains of Grecian or Boman literature, but
among those of the learned Arabians of the middle ages. One such work, at
* For a list of early Encyclopcedias, see the Biblotheca Realis Philosqphica of Lipenius, T. I. p- 4SG-7«
PREFACE.
Vll
least, exists in the collection of Arabic manuscripts preserved in the library of
the Escurial at Madrid. It is described in Casiri’s account of them, as a work,
“ ubi scientiarum, artiumque liberalium, synopsis occurrit, una cum accurata
et perspicua earum notitia, definitione, divisione, methodo;”* * * § and is said to
have been compiled by Alfarabius, the great ornament of the School of
Bagdad in the tenth century, who himself inscribed it with the title of
Encyclopaedia.
The most noted and valuable of the early Encyclopaedias was that of
John Henry Alstedius, a Professor of Philosophy and Divinity at Weissem-
bourg in Transylvania; and who is said to have been the author of about
sixty other works, though he died at the age of fifty, in 1638. f His Ency-
clopeedia, by which alone his name is remembered, appeared in 1630, m two
folio volumes* A smaller and less comprehensive work of the same kind,
which he published ten years before, served as the groundwork of this more
extensive undertaking; in which he professedly aimed at the formation of a
complete Encyclopaedia. % It consists of thirty-five books, of which the fiist
four contain an explanation of the nature of the various subjects discussed
in the rest. Then follow successively, six on Philology; ten on specula¬
tive, and four on practical Philosophy ; three on Theology, Jurisprudence,
and Medicine; three on the mechanical Arts; and five on History, Chrono¬
logy, and Miscellaneous topics. This work was held in high estimation till
the close of that century. Leibnitz mentions it, in the early part of the next,
in respectful terms ; accompanied with an earnest wish that some of the
learned would either join in remodeling and improving it, or in composing
an entirely new work of the same kind.§ The observations of this illustrious
philosopher show that he had reflected much on the objects of such an under-
* Casiri, Biblioth. Arabico.— Hispana Escurial. I. p. 189.
t Niceron, Memoires des Hommes illustres, T. XLI. p. 300.
t The idea then entertained of the nature of such a trork, trill be seen from his definitionEncyclopedia
est systema omnium systematum, quibus res, homine digue, methodo certfi e*plicantur.» Alsted. Encyclop.
T. I. P 49.
§ Leibnitii Opera, T. V. p» 405.
Vlll
PREFACE.
taking; and that he considered an Encyclopaedia as a species of publication
calculated to be eminently useful to mankind.
After what has been said of these works, it is scarcely necessary to observe,
that, though the term Encyclopaedia is now familiarized to us as an appella¬
tive for alphabetical digests of general knowledge, the first works so designated
were by no means constructed with any reference to the alphabet. It was
long before the idea occurred that the lexicographic plan might be used as
the basis of a universal repertory of human learning ; and still longer, before
the alphabet was employed to introduce general treatises similar to those
of the early Encyclopedias. Nearly a century elapsed from the publication
of the popular work of Alstedius, before any considerable attempt was
made to present the world with an encyclopedical dictionary ; and for a long
period thereafter, no dictionary of that description—none, in fact, till the
appearance of the Encyclopaedia Britannica exemplified the method of in¬
serting complete or systematic views of the Sciences.
Dictionaries limited to the explanation of technical terms, and particular
sciences, had been long common throughout Europe ; hut the first professed
attempt to bring the whole body of science and art into the lexicographic form,
was the Lexicon Technicum of Dr Harris. It was completed and published
at London in the year 1710 ;* and is generally viewed as the first great
advance to the objects of the more modern Encyclopedia. But, though pro¬
fessing to be universal, it was in fact limited almost entirely to mathematical
and physical science; with respect to which, however, it has been generally
allowed to have come fully up tp the acquisitions of its day.
The 44 Cyclopedia” of Mr Chambers, published in the year 1728, presents
the next marked advance in the composition of encyclopedical dictionaries ;
and falls, indeed, to he considered as constituting an era in the history of
their formation. Till its appearance there had been no attempt at once to
* In two folio volumes—tlie first in 1706, the other in 1710. It passed through five editions in the course
of the next thirty years.
PREFACE.
ix
explain the sciences in the order of the alphabet, and to conjoin their com¬
ponent parts dissevered by that mode of arrangement. “No one,” says this
author, “ seems to have perceived that a dictionary is in some measure capable
of the advantages of a continued discourse; and, therefore, we see nothing like
a whole in what has, in this sort, been done.” It was not, however, by com¬
prehensive views of the established divisions of knowledge, introduced in the
alphabetical order of their names, that he proposed to remedy that evil of
fractured u wholes,” of which he complains. He thought to accomplish this
by references from general to particular heads, and from the latter to the for¬
mer—in short, from the parts of all connected subjects or topics, reciprocally ;
conformably to an illustrative scheme with which he furnished his readers.
That something was thus done to indicate and conjoin the subordinate heads
of a science, fortuitously scattered by the alphabet, needs not be questioned ;
but the inherent defects of the plan were incapable of being surmounted by any
system of references, however complete. The sciences cannot be taught or
understood without being viewed continuously, in their natural state of
unity and coherency; and the great and primary objects of an Encyclopedia
cannot possibly be attained, where that method of surveying them is not exem¬
plified. In some other respects, Mr Chambers’s notions of what was required
by the nature of his undertaking were confined and arbitrary; as in thinking
that an Encyclopedia should only contain the conclusions, without any of the
demonstrations of mathematical,,or the experimental details of physical science.
But, with all its defects, whether of plan or execution, his work must be
allowed to be the production of a mind of no ordinary compass and vigour;
as well as one of the most useful literary undertakings ever accomplished by a
single hand. How much has it not done through its numerous editions,* and
the other works of the same kind to which it gave rise throughout Europe, to
stimulate the curiosity, to enlarge the knowledge, and to diversify the intel¬
lectual pleasures and pursuits of the mass of mankind!
The popularity of the u Cyclopaedia” remained undisturbed by any rival
* The Cyclopaedia consisted of two very large folio volumes ; of which there wereyfre editions published in
the short period of eighteen years.
c
PREFACE.
X
for a considerable period; but the success with which it was frequently
republished, and the progress of knowledge in some departments m which
it was from the first defective, by holding out a prospect of encouragement to
newer undertakings, led at last to a succession of similar works, mostly
modeled upon its plan. The title which Mr Chambers chose, m preference
to the more classical one of Encyclopcedia, was however laid aside, for that
suggested by their alphabetical structure; nor was the correct name assumed
conjunctively with the latter, in any British work of this class, till the appear¬
ance of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.
The first of these works was Barrow’s 44 New and Universal Dictionary
of Arts and Sciences,” consisting of a folio volume, published in 1 < 51; to
which a supplement was added in 1754. Its only recommendations, as
compared with its predecessor, consisted in an enlarged number of articles
on mathematical subjects, on the mechanical arts, and on naval affairs; to
make room for which, church history and all scholastic topics were excluded.
A garbled translation of D’Alembert’s celebrated preliminary Discourse to
the French Encyclopedic was prefixed, in two portions, to these two volumes,
without the slightest notice of the original*
This was followed, in 1754, by a 44 New and Complete Dictionary of
Arts and Sciences,” comprised in four large octavo volumes, written, accoid
ing to the title-page, “ by a Society of Gentlemen.” It is distinguished by the
general brevity of its articles ; a quality, which enabled its compilers to widen
its range in the departments of geography, commerce, and natural history.
Prefixed to it, there is a scheme of the divisions of human knowledge,
intended to serve as the basis of its articles and references; and which is
announced as “ more simple and natural, and likewise fuller and better distri¬
buted,” than that of either Chambers or D’Alembert; but which may be fairly
characterized as an exceedingly confused and illogical performance, exempli¬
fying an arbitrary use of philosophical terms.
In 1766, was published, in three folio volumes, 44 The Complete Dictionary
PREFACE.
xi
of Arts and Sciences ”—a work compiled under the joint direction of the Rev.
Henry Croker, Dr Thomas Williams, and Mr Samuel Clerk ; the theological,
philosophical, and critical branches being edited by the first; those of ana¬
tomy, medicine, and chemistry, by the second; and the mathematical by the
last. This division of labour does not appear to have contributed much to
the excellence of the respective departments; for the character of the whole,
with a few exceptions, is that of sordid compilation. In point of method, it
has still less claim to praise; for its authors either did not perceive, or disre¬
garded the use of that chain of references, by which Mr Chambers endeavoured
to remedy the defects arising from the division of subjects,naturally connected,
under a multiplicity of separate heads. Part of D’Alembert’s Discourse
was here also appropriated without any mention of the quarter from whence
it was derived.
On the Continent, as well as in England, the u Cyclopaedia” of Mr
Chambers gave a new impulse to the desire for such publications. Within
little more than twenty years from its first appearance, it had been translated
into the Italian language ; and had, in France, become the foundation of the
Encyclopedic—the most extensive and celebrated undertaking of the kind that
had yet appeared in the world. This great work, originally intended to con¬
sist of ten, was ultimately enlarged to seventeen folio volumes ; of which the
first was published in 1751, the last in 1765.* It is well known to those con¬
versant with its history, that it was founded upon an unpublished French
translation of the work of Mr Chambers. That translation was undertaken in
1743, and completed in 1745, by an Englishman of the name of Mills, assisted
by a native of Dantzic, named Sellius.f About the time of its completion, or
soon after, the Encyclopedic was devised ; and this translation was put into the
hands of its intended conductors, as the groundwork of the undertaking.
It is not, perhaps, so generally known, that the Abbe de Gua was its pro-
* Besides seventeen volumes of Text, it has eleven of Plates and Descriptions ; of which the first was pub-
lished in 1762, the last in 1772.
f Memoire pour P. J. F. Luneau De Boisjermain, Souscripteur de VEncyclopedic. 4to. Paris, 1771,
PREFACE.
XU
jector; and that it was only in consequence of a dispute between him and
the booksellers concerned, that the editorship was committed to D’Alembert
and Diderot* While both concur in bestowing the highest encomiums upon
the encyclopedical method—or plan of references—which Chambers had ex¬
emplified, they represent his execution as that of a servile compiler, particu¬
larly from French writers; observing, that the design of publishing the
translation of his work was abandoned, because it was discovered that the
public would thereby get little of which it was not already possessed in another
form. They, at the same time, make the curious acknowledgment, that with¬
out the aids derived from that translation, it would have been next to im¬
possible to procure the co-operation necessary to the composition of the
Encyclopedic. “ II n’y a presqu’aucun de nos Collegues, qu’on eut deter¬
mine a travailler, si on lui eut propose de composer a neuf toute sa partie;
tons auroient ete affrayes, et l'Encyclopedic ne se feroit point faite.” f
The plan, however, of this memorable publication was confessedly
modeled upon that of Mr Chambers, which its editors represented as having
obtained the general suffrages of the learned. Seeking no distinction, there¬
fore, from novelty of method, they rested its claims to public favour upon
the great extension of its several departments; upon the various attainments
and literary eminence of its contributors; and, above all, on the philoso¬
phical spirit which animated their labours. It would he altogether foreign
to the present purpose, to enter into any details concerning its philosophical
or literary merits ; or the irreligious and revolutionary designs with which
its conductors were charged. But with respect to its completeness and
consistency as a general repertory of knowledge, it seems proper to observe,
that the popular branches of biography and history were excluded from
its plan; and that, though it unquestionably contains many articles of great
originality, depth, and ability, there is yet every where a large alloy of useless
matter, dressed out in a vague, diffuse, and declamatory style.
* Nouv. Mem. de VAcademic Royale des Sciences de Berlin, pour I’an. 1770, p. 52.—Biographic Uni-
verselle, Tom. XVIII. Art. Gua de Halves.
| Encyclopedic, Art. Eneyclop. Tom. V. p. 645.
PREFACE.
xm
To its tendency to promote similar undertakings in the higher walks of
literature, may probably be ascribed Dr Goldsmith’s proposal to publish
44 A Universal Dictionary of Arts and Sciences,with the promised assist¬
ance of the most distinguished British writers of that day; who, as Bishop
Percy informs us, 44 were to contribute articles, each on the subject in which
he excelled.”* The plan was frustrated by his untimely death; and it is
matter of regret that his 44 Prospectus,” described by the same writer as
44 giving a luminous view of his design,” has not hitherto reached the public.
The Encyclopaedia Britannica made its first appearance in the world a
few years after the completion of its great French progenitor, then at the
height of its fame. The first edition, which was completed in the year 1771,
though, as already observed, far from imposing or attractive either in respect
of extent or execution, was yet distinguished by a much more philosophical
plan than had been exemplified by any of its predecessors, either abroad or
at home. Instead of attempting to elucidate the sciences by a number of
separate articles corresponding to their technical titles or sections, introduced
in the order prescribed by the alphabet—and with no other continuity of
explanation than could be obtained through references from one head to
another—it treated each science completely, in a systematic form, under its
proper denomination; the technical terms and subordinate heads being also
explained alphabetically, when any thing more than a reference to the general
treatise was required. This excellent method was prosecuted upon a wider
scale, and with more maturity of execution, in the subsequent editions; and
though not always followed out with perfect order and consistency—for that
could hardly be supposed possible in a work composed by a multitude of
hands—it was nevertheless practised to an extent exemplifying a great and
beneficial improvement in the structure of Encyclopaedias. Provision was
thus made for the intermixture of general treatises, upon all subjects
requiring continuous discussion, with any number of particulars to which the
expansive powers of the alphabet can reach. The objects aimed at in the
* Life of Goldsmith, prefixed to Bishop Percy’s edition of his work, Vol. L p. 112.
b
XIV
PREFACE.
early Encyclopedias were, in this way, reconciled to the lexicographic plan,
whilst its adaptation to particular topics was in no respect impaired. It has,
indeed, been alleged that this method has a tendency to withdraw the
attention from the subordinate to the greater articles ; and that the nobler
provinces on the map of knowledge may thus appear in high culture and
order whilst the inferior and obscurer districts and localities are found to
bear the marks of desertion or neglect. But this is not by any means a
necessary or unavoidable result; and the plan which is best adapted to a
satisfactory delineation of the higher subjects of enquiry, and which promises
most effectually to communicate the knowledge of them, must be viewed as,
on the whole, that which has made the greatest advances to perfection, and
as the most likely to be productive of beneficial effects.
The Editor of the first edition of this Encyclopsedia, was Mr William
Smellie; then well known as a man of considerable intellectual resources,
and particularly conversant with Natural History. It is said by his bio¬
grapher “ that the plan of the work was devised by him;”* and if this alludes
to its method in respect to the sciences, he was more likely, certainly, to
have suggested that great improvement than any other of his known co¬
adjutors. That method, it may however be observed, was not entirely new;
for it had been at least partially exemplified many years before, m Dr De
Coetlogon’s voluminous, but long forgotten “ Illustrations of the Arts and
Sciences,” published in the year 1745. In that work, each art and science
was fully discussed in a separate treatise, introduced alphabetically accord¬
ing to the name of its subject; thus exemplifying the distinguishing feature
of the method in question. But whether it was actually suggested by that
obscure publication does not appear.
The work, though bearing the title of Encyclopedia, was at first little
more than a Dictionary of Arts and Sciences upon a greatly improved plan;
but its second edition, completed in ten volumes, about twelve years after
* Kerr’s Life of Smellie, Vol. I. p. 136.
PREFACE.
xv
the first, was enriched with the addition of two great and popular branches
not treated in the same form in any preceding work of the kind—namely,
Biography and History. In the French Encyclopedic, though occasional
notices of memorable persons occur in the articles relative to the history of
philosophy and science, there was no series of separate lives; and no place
whatever was assigned to civil history. The Supplement to that great work pro¬
fessed to include history in its plan; but its historical details were limited, for
the most part, to what could be introduced under the names of kings and
rulers; and thus presented no substantive or connected views of nations and
states. To include history, in any form, was considered by some critics of
name, particularly M. De La Harpe, as an abuse of the purposes of an En-
cyclopsedia. u L’histoire n’est point,” says he, u une acquisition de Pesprit;
ce n’est pas dans une Encyclopedic qu’on doit la chercher.” * This reason for
such an exclusion is manifestly arbitrary, and would equally strike at many
subjects of importance, to the introduction of which this writer does not object.
It derives no countenance either from the practice of the earlier encyclopsedists,
or the opinions of the most enlightened of those who have commented upon
their labours. Thus we find a general summary of the history of the world in
the Encyclopaedia of Alstedius ; and Leibnitz, in remarking upon the defects
of that work, mentions the historical department as one of those requiring to
be greatly extended.f There cannot be a doubt that the success of the
Encyclopaedia Britannica was materially promoted by the above-mentioned
enlargement of its basis; and that any work of the kind—to many serving
the purposes of a library—which should now exclude these subjects, would
greatly circumscribe the sphere of its usefulness.
Till the publication of its third edition, which was completed in eighteen
volumes, in the year 1797, its method and the comprehensiveness of its plan,
constituted its chief recommendations. In none of its departments had it as
yet attracted any marked approbation. But in this edition it rose greatly
above its former level; and that in fields of speculation and research
* La Harpe, Cours de Litterature, Tom. XV. p. 74.
f Leibnitii Opera, Tom. V. p. 184.
xvi
PREFACE.
which lie far out of the ordinary paths of enquiry. In proof of this, it is only
necessary to mention its admirable treatise on General or Philosophical Gram¬
mar ; * its copious survey of Metaphysics, by the late Reverend Dr Gleig; its
profound articles on Mythology, Mysteries, and Philology, by the late Dr Doig;
and its elaborate view of the Philosophy of Induction, by the late Professor
Robison. The powers thus displayed in speculative philosophy, and ancient
erudition, were, however, more than equaled by the other contributions of the
last-mentioned writer, in the wide field of Physical Science. Though his
accession did not take place till the edition had advanced to its thirteenth
volume, the number and value of these contributions were such as strongly
to attract the attention of the scientific world; and the very high place
which they then took, they still, in a great measure, maintain in its estima¬
tion. Shortly before, the work had been committed, owing to the death of
the Editor, Mr Macfarquhar, to the direction of Dr Gleig ; and to this occur¬
rence Professor Robison’s accession, and its important consequences, would
seem to be owing.
This edition was accordingly soon followed by two supplementary volumes,
in which Professor Robison resumed the contributions wanting to complete
that series which, as just stated, he had commenced, when the principal work
was far advanced. Taken altogether, “ they exhibited,” according to a most
competent judge—the late Dr Thomas Young—“ a more complete view of the
modern improvements of Physical Science than had ever before been in the
possession of the British public.”! These volumes contained little else of
durable value; but such remarkable contributions, joined with the others
already mentioned, gave the work generally a new and more dignified aspect;
and did much to bespeak the future co-operation of the highest class of
literary men.
A fourth edition, augmented to twenty volumes, was completed in 1810,
* Said to have been written by the Rev. James Bruce; but the originality of the authorship has been much
questioned.
See Dr Young^s biographical account of Professor Robison, in the present edition, Vol. XIX. p. 303.
PREFACE.
xvn
under the able superintendence of the late Dr James Miller. * Most of the
new treatises which he introduced, belonged, conformably to his own predilec¬
tions and attainments, to Chemistry and Natural History—sciences then
undergoing such rapid changes, that but little of any stable value could,
through them, be added to the work. The case, however, was different
with Professor Wallace’s Mathematical contributions; which were not only
of a kind to elevate its scientific character, but to impart to it great and per¬
manent utility, f The general value of the edition would have been consider¬
ably enhanced, could its Editor have availed himself of those articles which
Professor Robison contributed to the preceding supplemental volumes; but
this was prevented by a temporary separation of the property from that in
the principal work; and the incorporation of the whole—or rather of all that
it has been judged proper to republish—-with the general text, has only been
effected in the present edition. J
With the completion of the fourth edition the progress of improvement
was for some time suspended. The next two were little more than reprints
of the former; and, therefore, contributed nothing to vary or advance
the character of the work. But its reputation, which might have otherwise
suffered, was not merely sustained, but vastly augmented by a Supplement,
extending to six volumes, which far more than compensated for the absence
of any improvements in these two editions.
That distinguished publication was projected by the late Mr Constable,
soon after the principal work and its appendages had been purchased by his
enterprising house; and nothing which the extensive connexions, intelligence,
and great liberality of that house—then in the zenith of its prosperity—£Ould
* See the notice of his Life in the present edition.
f The following were the most valuable: Algebra, Conic Sections, Fluxions, Geometry, Mensuration,
Porisms, Series, Trigonometry.
J The following are the articles of the series here reprinted: Arch, Carpentry, Centre, Dynamics, Per¬
spective, Philosophy, Physics, Pumps, Resistance of Fluids, River, Roof, Seamanship, Signals, Steam-
Engine, Strength of Materials, Telescope, Trumpet, Waterworks.
PREFACE.
xvm
contribute to the perfection and success of a favourite undertaking, was either
withheld or grudgingly bestowed. That success was fully commensurate to
the expectations that had been formed. The first half volume was ushered
into the world under the sanction of the illustrious name of Dugald Stewart,
as the author of the first of those Preliminary Dissertations on the History of
the Sciences, which, in a more complete state, so greatly ornament and recom¬
mend the present edition; and the work rose rapidly to an unexampled pitch
of public favour, which it enjoyed without the slightest diminution till its
close. Nor is it matter of wonder that, containing, as it did, a succession of
treatises upon many of the most important and interesting branches of know¬
ledge—some of them altogether overlooked, others but sparingly treated in
similar works—written by men second to none in talents and reputation, it
should have continued to sustain itself on that elevated ground which it early
reached. Its fame was not confined to Britain, but extended to the Conti¬
nent; and two of the most distinguished philosophers of France—M. Arago
and M. Biot were enrolled, and took an active place amongst its scientific
contributors. Its publication, which had commenced in December 1815, was
completed in April 1824.
Within a few years thereafter, the whole of these copyrights passed,
owing to the misfortunes of the great publishing house just mentioned, into
the hands of the present proprietors; and this fortunate devolution of the
property was soon manifested, by the announcement of preparations for the
edition now completed ;—in every respect, the most perfect and conspicuous
that has yet signalized the progress of the work. It is but simple justice,
however, here to acknowledge, that a similar edition had been projected,
and all but commenced, at the period of the overthrow of the former
owners. In the Prospectus of their plan, the new proprietors stated, that
“ the work would be widened in its compass, amplified and improved in its
contents, and raised, in all respects, to a level with the modes of thinking and
spirit of the age and they may unhesitatingly lay claim to the merit of hav¬
ing amply fulfilled this comprehensive engagement. Nay, the multiplicity of
new treatises, in some cases extending through all the branches of the most
PREFACE.
xix
widely ramified sciences ; the large and various engraftments in every depart¬
ment ; and the careful renovations throughout, make this edition, in a much
greater degree, a new work with an old and respected name, than an improved
republication of what had, under that name, been already given to the world.
The Outline to be given of its contents, will, it is hoped, fully support the
claims put forth in its behalf.
For the very responsible task of directing and superintending its forma¬
tion, the Editor chosen had at least the recommendation of considerable
experience, a thorough knowledge of the work itself, and extensive literary
connexions—derived mostly from his previous editorship of the Supplement.
The peculiar labours of an Editor, in such an undertaking, do not realize
themselves in any separate substantive form. He is the sole director and
fashioner of the fabric, and therefore accountable for its solidity and com¬
pleteness ; but he may not himself have furnished any of the materials
employed for its erection. His duties lie in judging of those materials, in
selecting the workmen, and directing their operations. Stated more in detail,
the present Editor believed them to consist in determining what parts of the
text were to be retained, what expunged, and what altered—in ascertaining
what defects and omissions were to be supplied, and the manner of doing so
—in judging what subjects or sciences had received an imperfect or unphilo-
sophical examination, and required to be placed on a level with the improved
knowledge and taste of the times—in distinguishing those where the existing
treatment might suffice, if amended, from such as called for, or merited an
entirely new elucidation—in selecting the writers whose aid was to be solicited,
and indicating their respective tasks—in conducting the correspondence thence
arising—and in the ultimate revision of the whole, in order to make sure of
the projected improvements, and to discover whether any thing was either
improperly omitted or superinduced. The conclusions to be formed in the
exercise of some of these duties were necessarily complicated by considera¬
tions connected with the incorporation of the Supplement—one of the prin¬
cipal objects of the undertaking—which obviously required great and material
interferences with the structure of the older work.
XX
PREFACE.
The Editors previous knowledge of that work, though productive of some
material facilities, could not possibly authorize him to dispense with a
renewed and scrupulous revision of the text, throughout its whole extent.
This was essential towards fixing, justly and correctly, what portions were to
be struck out as antiquated or insufficient, and what to be retained, with or
without alterations. The discharge of this duty imposed the necessity of
attentively re-perusing the greater part (taking the Supplement into view)
of above twenty thousand closely printed quarto pages. Every article that
he on this scrutiny retained, was corrected and amended previous to its being
committed to the press as a component part of the new edition. In these
emendations, and in the revision of the press, the Editor had the assistance of
the late Dr James Browne, who, with learning and talents fitted to do credit
to the highest departments of the work, and from which, in fact, it derived
much valuable aid, performed these comparatively obscure duties with an assi¬
duity and care not always conjoined with such abilities. But his interest in a
great publication with which his name was otherwise honourably associated,
and his warm desire to co-operate with the Editor, animated and sustained him,
till his labours were interrupted by a fatal illness, when the work had advanced
near to its appointed close. The stroke of death which prematurely deprived
the cause of useful knowledge of a devoted and vigorous labourer, renders
only the more sacred the duty of thus acknowledging what is due, in this
particular, to his industry and skill. His other services, in the shape of
literary contributions, speak for themselves, and will, in part, be afterwards
noticed.
The Editor’s attention was early directed to the means of completing
those Preliminary Dissertations on the History of the Sciences, which had
been published progressively with the volumes of the Supplement, and con¬
stituted their noblest and most attractive features. They were intended to
form two distinct Dissertations, each divided into Parts. The first was to
contain the History of Metaphysical, Ethical, and Political Philosophy; the
second, that of Mathematical and Physical Science. The one was undertaken
PREFACE.
xxi
by the late Mr Dugald Stewart, the other by his friend and former colleague,
the late Professor Playfair ; and, incomplete as they were left by the death of
these eminent men, they yet, to a considerable extent, supplied a great desidera¬
tum in British literature. The idea of a continuous delineation of the progress
of the human mind in the discovery of truth, and in the correction of error,
as an Introduction to a work in which the sciences are examined in detail,
was, for the first time, exemplified in the Discourse by D’Alembert, prefixed
to the French Encyclopedic ; and nothing of the kind of acknowledged merit
had, in any shape, been given to the world in our own language prior to
these Dissertations. 'That Discourse, though grand in its outline, was at
once too rapid and too compressed in its notices of those “ great lights of
the world, by whom the torch of science has been successively seized and
transmitted,” to impart to the student, or to fix in his recollection, any satis¬
factory views of their opinions and achievements. The Scottish Discourses
were written upon a scale which enabled their authors to remedy that
defect; and they accordingly present, in a style as noble as their subjects
are dignified, some of the most instructive views of the advances and fail¬
ures of human reason, and the progress of genuine science, combined with
the justest estimates of those who have most affected that progress, for good
or for evil, that any language affords. Mr Stewart had originally intended
to trace the history of all the principal branches of philosophy connected
with the knowledge of the Mind; but his plan was completed only in as far
as regarded the fundamental, or Metaphysical branch; the others—with
the exception of some valuable observations occasionally introduced in the
former, concerning the Ethical and Political notions of the sixteenth, and eaily
part of the seventeenth century—having been left untouched. Fortunately,
however, the portion completed and published had received, before the death
of the venerable author, a careful revision, and some additions of moment
from his own hand; and it is the Dissertation, as thus amended, that appears
in the present work. The history of the Mathematical and Physical sciences,
again, was, at Professor Playfair’s death, brought down only to the period
rendered memorable by the names of Newton and Leibnitz; thus leaving the
c
XXII
PREFACE,
discoveries of a century, eminently progressive in scientific knowledge, to be
detailed by some other hand. It was the wish of the Editor to procure such
continuations as should complete the plan which the original masters had
sketched out; and, in as far as concerns Mathematical and Physical science,
this may be considered as having been, in a great measure, accomplished by
the animated and instructive sequel to Professor Playfair’s treatise, written
by the successor to his Academical Chair, the late Sir John Leslie. As to
the other great division of the original plan, it is matter of deep regret that
one of its most important sections has not been filled up. The Editor for
some time hoped to procure from the late Sir James Mackintosh, a continua¬
tion which should include the history of Political as well as Ethical science;
but his declining health and various occupations, obliged him ultimately,
notwithstanding his strong attachment to the subject, to limit himself to
the latter. The work has thus, at any rate, acquired an admirable analytical
view of the Ethical theories of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
now placed as a sequel to the history of Metaphysical science completed
by Mr Stewart. Its excellence, and the known wisdom, moderation, and
erudition of its author, cannot but occasion regret to all, that the Political
section did not receive the expected illustration from his all-competent pen.
But, though these Dissertations do not present a complete history of the
sciences, and though differences in respect of execution may, no doubt, be
perceived among them, it cannot be denied that they furnish some precious
illustrations of the progress of most of their principal branches. Viewed in
connexion, as they now stand, they form an appropriate vestibule to this great
intellectual structure; and a long period will in all probability elapse, before
so much genuine philosophy, so much scientific genius, and such powers of
writing, will be again combined in the same form, to recommend and dignify
such an undertaking.
In his account of the present edition, the Editor is necessarily obliged
to restrict himself to a brevity of statement which excludes the possibility of
mentioning all the treatises of value that have been transferred to it, from
PREFACE.
xxm
the preceding editions and their Supplements; but the importance of the
last will necessarily require full details concerning the draughts made from
its ample stores.
It may be stated generally, that every article of value in any preceding
edition has been reprinted in this—in all cases with corrections, and fre¬
quently with considerable additions. Thus the article on Universal Grammar,
published in the third, has here received annotations and additions cal¬
culated greatly to augment its utility to the younger student. These may
be mentioned as among the services for which the work is indebted to
the learning of the late Dr Browne.* All the articles contributed by Pro¬
fessor Bobison—excepting those which the progress of science has so far
outstripped as to require the substitution of others—have been here re¬
printed ; occasionally with additions by writers every way competent to
supply what was found wanting in the originals. One of the most useful, his
treatise on Carpentry, appears with an introduction and notes by the late
Dr Thomas Young ;f whose equal eminence in Science and Letters, and
numerous contributions in both departments to the late Supplement, entitle
him to be regarded as one of the greatest benefactors of this Encyclopaedia.
This article was particularly valued by Dr Young, as forming, alongst with
those on Roof, and Strength of Materials, a uniform system of the most
important branch of practical mechanics. Among other extensively useful
contributions by Professor Robison, were those on Seamanship, Steam, and
the Steam-Engine. The first is reprinted with a supplemental section,
containing some notices of recent improvements, written by a scientific sea¬
man, Captain Basil Hall, of the Royal Navy. Of the other two, only
those parts have been retained which show the state of the physics and
* The original treatise extends from p. 638 to p. 686 of the Tenth volume of the present edition ; and Dr
Browne’s additions from that page to p. 702.
f It having been judged proper, on account of its importance, to reprint the article Carpentry (which, for
a reason before mentioned, was not inserted in the body of the work) in the last Supplement, it was there
that it came, at the Editor’s request, to be annotated by the late Dr ^ oung.
XXIV
PREFACE.
mechanics of Steam at the time, and the progress of the noblest of engines ;
and these now form integral parts of the extensive and valuable treatises
on their subjects, and on Steam Navigation, contributed by Mr Scott
Russell.
Of the articles written for former editions, several have been so extensively
altered or remodeled by their own authors, as to make them, in reality, almost
entirely new. Such is the case with some of those Mathematical articles by
which Professor Wallace so much elevated the scientific character of the work,
in its fourth edition; particularly the treatises on Come Sections, and Flux¬
ions. In these, and other similar cases, the figures required for explanation
or demonstration, instead of being accumulated in separate plates, have been
transferred by woodcuts to the text; a change obviously of great utility as
well to the occasional enquirer as to the student. Others of the older trea¬
tises, now posthumous, have, besides the usual corrections, received suitable
additions from living writers-for example, that on Theology, written for
the third edition by the Reverend Dr Gleig ; which is here augmented with
a very necessary view of the opinions of later Theologians, by the Reverend
W. L. Alexander.
In particularizing the use that has been made of the late Supplement,
it may first of all he stated generally, that its contents have mostly been re¬
printed ; all the principal treatises having been previously revised by their
authors where that was possible, and altered, or corrected, wherever circum¬
stances required such changes. Any more particular mention of a publica¬
tion which has been for years before the world, may, at first view, appear
unnecessary ; hut as its incorporation with the general text formed one of
the chief objects of the present edition, it thus becomes proper to show what
the work has thereby in its unity acquired. The Editor can only, however,
specify those more eminent contributions which are likely still to he considered
as recommendatory as they were at their first appearance.
In Mathematical and Physical Science, the Supplement contained various
PREFACE.
XXV
treatises, the simplest mention of which and their writers will suffice to show
their importance and distinction. Capillary Attraction, Attraction of Ellip¬
tical Spheroids, and Equations, were contributed by Mr Ivory ; Physical
Astronomy, (which now forms one of the divisions of the general treatise on
Astronomy,) by Professor Playfair; Chromatics, Cohesion of Fluids, and
Tides, bv Dr Thomas Young; Pendulum, by M. Biot; and Polarization of
Light, by M. Arago: while Sir John Leslie, in an extensive series—drawing
its subjects alike from Chemical, Mathematical, and Physical Science, and
bearing throughout the impress of his inventive genius and fervid imagination
 gave the scientific portion of the work attractions which such compilations
cannot reasonably be often expected to exhibit. That series consisted of the
following articles: Angle, its trisection, Achromatic Glasses, Aerostation,
Arithmetic, its philosophy, Barometer, Barometrical Measurements, Climate,
Cold, Congelation, Dew, and Meteorology. The steps by which he was led
to the discovery of his own beautiful process of artificial congelation* are
strikingly detailed in one of these articles; and it may be mentioned for the
information of those engaged in meteorological observations, that the last
contains a full explanation of the theory and applications of all the different
instruments required for their prosecution.
M. Biot’s article on the Pendulum, and that of Dr Thomas Young on
Tides, have been augmented with supplemental accounts of the latest enquiries
on their respective subjects, by Mr Meikle; from whom the Editor has,
both in this way, and by the contribution of several entire articles, received
much useful aid.
The Supplement has also furnished some valuable contributions in differ¬
ent provinces of Natural History; particularly a comprehensive and animated
view of the history of Botany and Botanical Systems, by the late Sir James
Edward Smith, which is here included in the general treatise on Botany;
and two articles on the Anatomy and Physiology of Vegetables, remarkable
* See the account of Ins Life in this work.
XXVI
PREFACE.
for luminous arrangement and interesting details, by the late Mr Daniel
Ellis.
The highly useful departments of Civil Engineering, Arts, and Manu¬
factures, have been widely extended by the numerous treatises belonging to
these heads, written for the Supplement. Among them the following may
be particularly mentioned: Agriculture, by the late Mr Cleghorn; Assaying,
and Coining, by the late Mr Mushet; Baking, Brick-making, Bleaching, Brew¬
ing, and Distillation, by Dr Thomas Thomson; Bridges, Roads, and Weights
and Measures, by Dr Thomas Young; Breakwaters, and Docks, by Sir John
Barrow; Cotton Manufacture, by Mr Bannatyne; Horticulture, by Dr Neill;
Joinery, Stone-Cutting, and Stone-Masonry, by the late Mr Tredgold; and
Gunpowder and Wine-making, by the late Dr Maculloch. These articles
will be found rich in practical information not derived from ordinary
sources, or to be met with in ordinary compilations. Additions have
been here made to several. Thus, the latest details connected with the
Cotton Manufacture, have been furnished by the writer of the article; and
Horticulture, which appeared to its experienced author to require a more
expanded treatment, has been by him remodeled and amended accordingly.
In reprinting those, again, which had unfortunately become posthumous, and
which required alterations, the Editor had recourse to other suitable aid.
Dr Young’s article on Bridges has accordingly a short addition by Professor
Wallace; and Mr Meikle supplied the more recent details required in the
article on Weights and Measures.
It may be safely stated, that the Supplement was the first encyclopedical
work published in Britain, in which there was any marked attention bestowed
upon Politics and Political Economy, considered as sciences; and as the im¬
portant treatises introduced to supply that defect are here reprinted, the
Editor will take leave to describe them (with some immaterial alterations) in
the language used on their first appearance.
“ Political Philosophy has been hitherto but little attended to in the
PREFACE.
xxvn
formation of Encyclopaedias. Yet it would seem to have peculiar claims
to attention in these works; for the student is but too often left to
such information only as can be procured in mere occasional, or party produc¬
tions ;—in publications where it is seldom attempted, either to pursue a
scientific mode of discussion, or to reduce the scattered elements of know¬
ledge into a systematic form. Hence the propriety of political treatises in
works planned for the purpose of methodizing and diffusing knowledge;
where, though prejudice and predilection cannot of course be entirely excluded,
all the general topics of political science are more likely to be treated in a
philosophical spirit and form, than in most of the other vehicles of political
information.
u The defects of the Encyclopaedia Britannica in Political Science, made
a strong call, as the Editor thought, to supply the deficiency; and he hopes
the present work will be found far more complete in all the branches of
that science, than any similar publication that has yet appeared. The articles
introduced may be considered as belonging to General Politics, Political
Economy, and Political Arithmetic.
“ To the first head may be referred the articles Balance of Power, Govern¬
ment, Jurisprudence, Law of Nations, Liberty of the Press, and Prison Dis¬
cipline ; all, but the first, written by the late Mr Mill, whose contributions
display a reach and depth of thinking, and a power of analytical reasoning, that
must command the respect even of those who may sometimes be disposed to
dispute his principles, or to dissent from his conclusions. Most of the great
problems respecting the ends and objects of government and legislation, and
the means of preserving political, civil, and national rights, are discussed by
him, in the articles mentioned, in a form severely methodical, and in a spirit
which seeks neither aid nor ornament from the artifices of rhetoric.
“ It is observed by M. Cuvier, in his brilliant Sketch of the progress of
Physical Science in France since the Revolution, that the evils which resulted
PREFACE.
xxvm
from the ruinous system of Assignats, were in some degree compensated by
the improvements in the arts to which that system gave rise* Compensa¬
tions of a far higher order have, in this country, attended the evils occasioned
by measures affecting the soundness of its Currency; for they have served to
exercise the science of Political Economy in discussions which have elicited
new principles, afforded new explanations, and raised the truths which it
unfolds to a degree of importance in the eyes of statesmen and legislators, of
which the world generally has experienced the benefits. The space here
allotted to this science, has been accordingly measured out with a due regard
to the interest which it has excited, and to its intrinsic utility; and here, also,
the reader will receive the information presented to him, from contributions of
eminent ability;—some of them furnished by those who, next to the immortal
founder of the science, are universally considered as its greatest benefactors.
“ The following are the most important: Colony, and Economists, by
Mr Mill; Emigration, by Mr Buchanan; Funding System, by the late Mr
Ricardo; Political Economy, Cottage System, Exchange, Interest, Money,
and Taxation, by Mr M‘Culloch; and Population, by the late Reverend T.
R. Malthus.
u ft thus appears that Political Economy, as a distinct science, forms the
subject of a general treatise; while others are devoted to subordinate but
important topics, requiring a more enlarged elucidation. Taken altogether,they
furnish not only a systematic exposition of the great principles of the science,
but detailed views also, of the new doctrines concerning Rent, Value, Wages,
and Profits, with full statements of the opinions to which they are opposed. In
copious references, and in illustrative Tables, formed with the greatest atten-
* “ Elle a laisse a 1’art du Papetier des perfectionnemens durables, et surtout 1’emploi de 1’acide muriaticpie
oxigene pour le blanchiment de la pate. C’est mUme a elle que 1’on dolt en grande partie le nouvel emploi des
caracteres stereotypes, qui augmenteront les blenfaits de I’iniprimerie, en falsant penetrer les conceptions du
genie jusque dans les plus pauvres chaumieres.”—Cuvier, Rapport Historique sur le Progres des Sciences
JSfaturelles.
PREFACE.
XXIX
tion to accuracy, they have recommendations of especial value in an Encyclo¬
paedia. The prejudices opposed to the important and fruitful doctrine more
particularly connected with the name of Mr Malthus, must be considered as
greatly enhancing the value of the clear and comprehensive summary of the
facts and reasonings by which it is established, here given, in their latest form,
by himself. Generally speaking, the preceding treatises may be represented
as exhibiting a complete view of all the great questions that have been agi¬
tated in recent times, relative to the creation, distribution, and consumption
of wealth; the theory of money; the means of raising supplies for the public
expenditure; the effects of subjecting the food of the people to artificial
regulation; and the causes which regulate the increase and decrease of their
numbers.
u In the branch of Political Arithmetic there are two articles by Mr Milne,
who is also the author of the treatise on Annuities. The first, on Bills of
Mortality, explains the history, formation, and uses of these important Regis¬
ters; the other, on the Law of Mortality, dev elopes the principle which governs
the waste of human life, and furnishes the means of calculating the probable
length of its duration at any given age.” *
In preparing the foregoing treatises for the present edition, they have
undergone such modifications, and received such additions, as were neces¬
sary to adjust them to the later views and information applicable to their
subjects. This has been the case more particularly in the series contri¬
buted by Mr M^ulloch—a series, the utility of which, in a work like this,
can hardly be overrated, and whose compass and details have been con¬
siderably augmented and improved by the alterations here introduced. The
article on Prison Discipline, by the late Mr Mill, has been accommodated, by
another hand, to the information supplied by subsequent enquiries; and
the closely connected subjects treated under Bills, and the Law of Mortality,
* Preface to the Supplement.
d
XXX
PREFACE.
have been consolidated by the original author into one treatise, bearing the
title of the latter. The article on Annuities, by the same writer, has also
been reconstructed by himself, with useful additions^
It has been remarked by a late enlightened judge of literary undertakings,
that 64 the articles on the exact Sciences, contained in Encyclopsedias, are
the best *, and that those on literary, moral, and political subjects, are in most
danger of being less ably executed.” * The reason why it should be so is not
very obvious, unless it be that excellence is of more difficult attainment in the
latter than in the former. But be this as it may, and admitting the risk of
inferiority to be in general as stated, it must be allowed that the political
articles of the Supplement established an honourable brotherhood with those
on the exact sciences ; and the like equality may be confidently ascribed to its
contributions on literary subjects. No one can deny that its treatises on the
Affinities of Languages, and on Egyptian Hieroglyphics, by Dr Thomas
Young, displayed literary powers and acquisitions of the highest order ;
his discoveries as to the latter being among the greatest achievements of
modern scholarship. In the present work they have been incorporated in a
general view of Hieroglyphics, evincing no small share of learning and inge¬
nuity, by Dr Browne.f Among the other literary productions alluded to, were
that on the Fine Arts, by Mr Hazlitt; and the characteristic series on Chivalry,
the Drama, and Romance, by Sir Walter Scott. The second of this series
has been generally considered as ranking with the best compositions in serious
prose, which its illustrious author has given to the world. The last was
limited to Romances of Chivalry and the cognate kinds; but it has in this
edition been augmented by Mr Moir, so as to present a critical account of
the fictions of the great novelist himself, and others of anterior and subse¬
quent date. The treatise on Beauty by (Mr, now) Lord Jeffrey, also written
for the Supplement, belongs to a class equally within the scope of the above
* Sir James Mackintosh—Edinburgh Review, V. 27, p- 196.
I The third, fourth, and fifth sections of this treatise, consist of what was written by Dr Young-. In the
Supplement, his Hieroglyphical enquiries made part of an article which he contributed upon Egypt.
PREFACE.
xxxi
remark ; and may be appealed to, with those just mentioned, as showing that
merit of the highest order was there exemplified in literary and speculative
as well as in scientific compositions. That treatise, it is proper to add, in¬
cludes much of the theory of Taste, and is alike remarkable for its philoso¬
phical grasp, its happy analytical expositions, and its brilliant diction.
Owing to the defects of the Encyclopaedia in the three extensive pro¬
vinces of Geography, Topography, and Statistics, a large portion of the
Supplement was necessarily devoted to them; and every article of value
within either has been here naturalized;—sometimes with large additions,
and always with such alterations as existing circumstances required. In
composing the geographical articles, the discoveries in the obscure districts
of Africa, in the interior regions of the American continent, in the Indian
and Pacific oceans, and in the icy seas that surround the Poles, formed objects
of particular attention. The most valuable were contributed by Sir John
Barrow, who also furnished an account of China; the more to be prized, as
it contained the results of his own observations upon the institutions and
language of that extraordinary empire. To the same very able writer the
Statistical department was indebted for more than one instructive article;
but that on the Navy deserves to be particularly mentioned, as comprising
information respecting this favourite instrument of national glory and power,
which could not have been procured, in so satisfactory a form, from any other
quarter.
The Historical articles of the Supplement were necessarily limited to recent
changes and events ; and the Biographical, mostly, but not entirely, to the
lives of such eminent men as had died within the preceding thirty or forty
years. The contributions in this branch will, however, be generally recog¬
nized as of durable value. Amongst them were several accounts of memorable
men, written by those who had personal knowledge, or other authentic infor¬
mation concerning them ; and a number of scientific and literary lives, replete
with accurate information, and particularly attentive to bibliographical and
other minute notices, were contributed by Dr Young ; who, greatly distin-
XXX11
PREFACE.
guished both as a scholar and man of science, deemed no details unworthy
of his attention hy which knowledge could be rendered more exact and
complete.
The Editor has now to add some account of the wholly new matter with
which the liberality of the Proprietors, honourably desirous to outstrip t eir
promises to the public, enabled him to enrich the present edition. And here,
as before, the only course by which, amidst the multiplicity of artic es t a
invite attention, he can avoid a revolting minuteness of statement, is to make
such selections as may enable the reader to form a tolerable estimate of the
value of the information contained in this vast collection, and the state ot
perfection at which it has now arrived.
It could not be supposed that in a work proposing to examine every
methodized product of human thought, the subject of all others the most
important to man should be overlooked; even though one of its editions ha
not, as before mentioned, been partly conducted by a clergyman. But though
by no means wanting in treatises upon that subject, some topics not 1
viously discussed presented themselves for enquiry; and a few others, as
calling for a more thorough investigation than they had before received.
The observation applies both to theology and to ecclesiastical history.
Under the word Scripture, an article of great utility to students, on tie
critical knowledge of the sacred books-a subject but lately introduced into
the theological curricula of our academical seminal ies was contri i y
the Rev. W. L. Alexander. The Life of the Saviour, and the History
of the Jews, form two new articles, written with great ability, and a
thorough knowledge—particularly conspicuous in the first—of the latei
heresies of the German schools. For these the Editor is indebted to the
Reverend Dr Welsh. Finally, the Religious Missions of the present age ;
the great Secession from the Scottish Presbyterian Church towards the
middle of last century; and the history of that small community of Protest¬
ants who, from remote times and under cruel persecution, have upheld then-
altars and prosecuted their worship in the secluded valleys of the Cottian
PREFACE.
Xxxiii
Alps, have each been noticed at considerable length, under their respective
heads—Religious Missions, Seceders, and Yaldenses—by Mr Douglas, the
Rev. Janies Tayler, and the Rev. Dr Gilly.
In Philosophy, as contradistinguished from Science, there is compara¬
tively little to be described as new. The valuable articles upon Ancient
Philosophy, -about to be mentioned, constitute the principal accessions to
this department. It is one, indeed, in which the work has made fewer
advances than in any other, above its earlier essays. The treatises on Uni¬
versal Grammar, on Metaphysics, and on the Philosophy of Induction, pub¬
lished in the third edition, still maintain their places in this. To the first, in
as far as it goes, it would not be easy to produce any thing superior; and the
second, though of a structure too scholastic to please the taste of the present
day, yet displays much reading, carefully elaborated, and no small share of that
acumen which its subject requires. One of its chief defects is, that it does
nothing like justice to that Metaphysical School native to Scotland, and dis¬
tinguished by the names of Reid and Stewart, which is now rising more and
more into reputation and authority on the Continent and in the New World,
whilst it unfortunately engages but little attention in the country and island
to which it does so much honour. The defect alluded to cannot, however, be
wholly ascribed to the particular opinions of the author; for, at the time
when his treatise was written, the works of the most successful expounder of
the doctrines of that School, had only lately and to a small extent been pub¬
lished.* The Editor accordingly at first resolved to have
“ This long explored, but still exhaustless mine
Of contemplation ”
examined anew, under the more appropriate title of the Philosophy of the
Mind ; but views of expediency, and the consideration that the defects of that
treatise were at least partially supplied in the first Preliminary Dissertation,
led ultimately to the abandonment of that design. The third of the
* See Note to Art. Metaphysics, Vol. XIV. p« 599*
XXX1Y
PREFACE.
articles mentioned above, was intended by Professor Eobison as a formal
explanation of the Inductive Philosophy of Lord Bacon. It has been com¬
plained of, and not unjustly, as abstract and inexplicit; but here the enquirer
may turn to the Preliminary Dissertations, with the certainty of finding
expositions of the Baconian precepts, and delineations of the genius of the
immortal author, worthy of the subject and his name. In this fundamental
portion of modern philosophy, these Dissertations give the Encyclopaedia
Britannica a marked superiority over all its compeers. But with respect to
the philosophy of the ancient world, it has always been not merely defective but
nearly silent. It was, therefore, the Editor’s wish, to make it more consistent
with itself, and more complete for study and reference, by introducing an
account of the speculative wisdom of antiquity. He thought, at the same time,
that for such a work, the most suitable explanations would be such as could
be given, not in a general, but in separate treatises on the lives and doctrines
of those sages whose names are first thought of by every student, and whose
opinions have been most fully transmitted to modern times; and one of the
soundest scholars and thinkers of that great English Seminary which has been
represented as having the mastery in Grecian learning, obligingly entered into
the design, and furnished three treatises on the Lives and Philosophy of Aris¬
totle, Plato, and Socrates. Dr Hampden has, by these excellent contributions,
which agreeably combine personal history with profound views of the compre¬
hensive, lofty, and subtle systems he was called upon to explain—written in a
clear and manly style—endowed the work with additional recommendations to
the notice of the learned, and done much to silence all cavils as to the essential
superficiality, where such subjects are concerned, of publications of this de-
scription.
Another new treatise remains to be mentioned, as appertaining to the
philosophical rather than to any other department; namely, that on Rhetoric,
by Professor Spalding. It consists of a comprehensive and discriminating
analysis of the principles of reasoning and eloquence, both written and oral;
and some useful observations on the works to which students are commonly
referred.
PREFACE.
XXXV
High as the reputation of this work for a considerable period has been
in mathematical and physical science, it cannot but be raised still more in
name, as in utility, by the numerous and important contributions to both, in
this edition. These seemed to be called for, partly by an advisable exten¬
sion of subjects, and partly to substitute treatises of a higher order for
the less perfect performances of an earlier day. The popular science of Astro¬
nomy has accordingly been examined under that general head, and in two
separate articles on Comets and the Figure of the Earth, by Mr Galloway.
The doctrine of Probability, the history and principles of the Trigonometrical
Survey, Projectiles, and Potation, form other four contributions by the same
very able and highly instructed writer. Hygrometry is discussed in a valuable
article by Mr Meikle. Eight treatises, embracing the greater part of that
congeries of sciences classed under the general name of Natural Philosophy,
are recommended by the authorship of one who has himself, by his fine and
brilliant experiments and discoveries, added a new province, of the most
interesting description, to the realms of science. The Editor alludes to Sir
David Brewster, whose contributions include Hydrodynamics, Electricity,
Magnetism, Mechanics, Micrometer, Microscope, Optics, and Voltaic Elec¬
tricity.
Passing from this primary department, the Editor has to mention, that
Chemistry, and the widely ramified branches of Natural History, have,
throughout their whole extent, been treated anew. The general view of
the former, as a distinct science, was contributed by Dr Thomas Thomson;
to whose profound knowledge the Supplement, as before mentioned, was
indebted for several valuable articles on the chemical arts, here reprinted.
The treatise on Geology, by Mr Phillips* presents one of the most compre¬
hensive summaries yet given to the world of that favourite science ; and
of the kindred branch of Mineralogy, it is enough to say that it has been
explained according to the Natural History system, by Professor Jameson.
Closely connected with these, are two instructive articles on Heat, and on
Physical Geography, by Dr Traill. Botany is fully illustrated in an exten¬
sive article by Mr Walker Arnott; and Zoology, by far the largest division
XXXVI
PREFACE.
of Natural History, has been passed in review, under a new arrangement
comprising twelve great classes, each forming a distinct treatise. The prin¬
ciples of their classification, the general doctrines of Zoology, and its various
systems, are discussed with consummate knowledge, and in a most agreeable
style, in a general survey of the Animal Kingdom, by Mr James Wilson. It
forms an introduction to the other treatises ; most of the more important
and interesting of which have been contributed by the same accomplished
writer ; while the others, in order to secure systematic unity, have been exe¬
cuted under his immediate direction. The Editor need not load his already
crowded pages with an enumeration of these zoological treatises. It is
enough for the reader to be informed that they constitute, when viewed in
their scientific order, a complete and consistent system of Zoology, founded
on the best information, and having reference to all the latest authorities.
Besides the treatises alluded to, there are some detached articles, full of
attraction to those who delight in rural occupations and pastimes ; particularly
that on Angling by Mr Wilson, and those on the Horse and the Hound by
Mr Apperley ; a writer whose power of blending amusement with informa¬
tion, it would not, in his particular line, be easy to surpass. With these may
be mentioned, though not so nearly connected with Zoology, the articles on
Horsemanship and Hunting 5—all alike bearing the stamp, not to be mistaken,
of the same curious and experienced hand.
In Medical Science, and the subjects connected with it, the contri¬
butions have been limited to such of the great branches as necessarily
called for reconsideration 5 and to a few subordinate topics to which recent
enquiries had imparted fresh interest. Anatomy, Surgery, and the distinct
branch of Veterinary Medicine, have been treated under these several
heads by Dr Craigie, Mr Miller, and Mr Dick. Dr Traill has furnished
a general sketch of the comparatively new science of Medical Jurisprudence;
and Physiology is very fully explained in a treatise possessing every recom¬
mendation that extensive knowledge and clearness of composition can confer,
by Dr Boget. There are, besides, articles on Animal Magnetism, by Dr
PREFACE.
xxxvil
John Thomson; on Mental Diseases, by Dr Poole; on Medicine generally,
the Practice of Physic, and Pathology, by Dr William Thomson; and on
Poisons, by Dr Christison.
The number of new contributions in the ever-enlarging branches of
Civil Engineering, Arts, and Manufactures, is so great as to admit of only
a partial enumeration, limited to the most interesting and important. In
this view, the following may be specified :—Architecture, and Building, by
Mr Hosking;* Clock and Watch-work, and Inland Navigation, by Mr Meikle;
Dyeing, by Dr Thomas Thomson ; Gas-Lighting, by Dr Anderson ; Light-
Houses, by Mr Alan Stevenson; Music, by Mr Grahame; Painting, by Mr
Hay don; Porcelain Manufacture, by Mr Davenport; Printing, Copper¬
plate Printing, and Type-Pounding, by Mr Hansard; Railways, and Tunnels,
by Mr Lecount; Ship-Building, Timber, and Tonnage, by Mr Creuze;
Steam Navigation, treated alongst with Steam generally, and the Steam-
Engine, by Mr Scott Russell; Ventilation, by Dr D. B. Reid; Weaving,
Wool, and its Manufactures, by Mr Chapman.
The numerous treatises in General Politics, and Political Economy,
reprinted from the Supplement, with additions, left but little call for any
further extension of their subjects. A few treatises of great value have,
however, been added. Such in particular are those on Legislation, including
the modern doctrine of Codification; and on the Laws and Government
of England;—the last forming one of the divisions of the general account
of its History and Statistics. For these treatises, which are written in
a calm and philosophical strain, entitling them to high consideration as
political disquisitions, the Editor is indebted to Mr Empson. In Political
Economy again, the recent changes in the English Poor-Laws required a
new view of the whole system—well supplied by Mr Coode; and Mr M‘Cul-
* These two treatises, joined with those in different parts of the work, on Brick-Making, Carpentry,
Centre, Gas-Lights, Joinery, Masonry, Stone-Cutting, Roof, and Strength of Materials, form a body of
information respecting the operations most essential to the comfort, protection, and ornament of life, that
it would not be easy to surpass, either in respect of scientific or practical instruction.
xxxvm
PREFACE.
loch has made a most useful supplement to his former series, by a treatise, in
two divisions, upon Paper Money;—the last of the two being occupied with
an exposition of the principles of Banking.
Though the additional matter appertaining to Geography and Statistics
consists, in a great measure, of enlargements of articles reprinted from the
Supplement, there is a vast number wholly new, particularly in European and
Asiatic Geography. Indeed the geography of Asia may be said to be
almost entirely so, both in the greater and shorter articles; all of which have
been composed with due attention to the latest information, and to the
growing importance of these regions to British industry and commerce. The
European articles have been chiefly written by Mr Jacob; the Asiatic, by Mr
Buchanan. The counties, cities, and towns of England were also, for the
most part, furnished by the former; but in many cases, the accounts of these
were corrected by resident individuals of competent information. The Irish
articles of this description have been mostly contributed by the Bev. Edward
Groves; while those respecting Scotland were compiled or improved by
various hands. It may be stated in general, that great care has been
exercised in obtaining accurate information as to places; the Editor know¬
ing well that errors would occur in spite of the best exertions; and that he
who perceives any thing faulty regarding the place of his nativity or resi¬
dence, is apt enough to imagine that there must be great defects in greater
things. It has been observed by the eminent critic already referred to,
“ that the Geographical articles of Encyclopaedias are often copied from old
books, and transcribed from edition to edition with a disgraceful negligence
of new information.”* That some of these compilations have been u disgrace¬
fully” faulty in this particular, is undeniable; but though imperfections may
be discovered in a field of such endless details, the Editor is confident that
in no impartial survey of this work would they be ascribed to the servile
practice so justly decried, or to any culpable neglect of the best sources of
information.
* Sir James Mackintosh—Edinburgh Review, ubi sup.
PREFACE.
XXXIX
History and Biography made large calls for the augmentation of
their recitals. Some sections of the former have been entirely re-written ;
of which two may be particularized as owing their renovated form to the
lights derived from recent researches. These are the histories of Borne and
of Scotland. The investigations of Niebuhr and other subsequent writers,
strongly suggested a new survey of that memorable portion of history; and
the successful enquiries of Mr Tytler and others in the far less splendid, but
sufficiently contentious province of Scottish history, and its particular claims to
notice in a work like this, also enjoined its general reconsideration. The one
task was performed by the Bev. W. M. Hetherington ; the other by the writer
just named, who has deservedly earned much credit for the light which he has
thrown upon the darker portions of our national history.
In Biography, again, numerous new lives have been introduced; but
many omissions, as some might consider them, could be easily pointed
out. It is in such cases forgotten, that in a field so vast and crowded
there can only be selections; that the choice must be in great measure
discretionary; and that, in all probability, no two individuals could be found,
who would in every instance agree as to whether a particular life should
be inserted or omitted. But, speaking generally, it cannot be denied that
there has been a great and not injudicious choice of new biographical
articles, by which the utility of the work for consultation has been considerably
augmented. To particularize these lives would be an unprofitable task.
Several of them, such as that of Shakspeare by Mr De Quincey, are excellent
specimens of critical biography, upon that limited scale which the nature of
the work prescribed. It may be added, that a large proportion were compiled
by Dr Browne; that the greater part of those belonging to the classical ages
and mythology, were written by Mr Bamage ; and that almost all the Scottish
lives have been re-composed, with distinguished accuracy and learning, by
Dr Irving.
The new articles, not properly belonging to any of the immediately preced¬
ing divisions, form a considerable Miscellaneous list, in which are included
xl
PREFACE.
several of no ordinary merit. The general treatise on Poetry, by Mr Moir,
shows critical powers, knowledge, and taste, worthy of its subject; and Dr
Browne’s literary resources appear to advantage in that on Hieroglyphics, as
well as in those under the words Army, Libraries, and Newspapers. Alongst
with these may be mentioned an elaborate account of the history and consti¬
tution of the principal Universities of Europe, by Mr Ferguson; and three
learned treatises on the Canon, Civil, and Feudal law, by Dr Irving. Other
articles might be specified; but the above may suffice to show that much
valuable information, of a miscellaneous nature, has been introduced.
This Outline may be fitly closed by the mention of a distinguishing part of the
present edition, and which, indeed, is altogether new in British Encyclopaedias
.—namely, an extensive General Index. Other portions of the work may, and
properly, be more extolled; yet this undeniably lays claim to a very high
degree of utility—a utility to be more or less felt by every class of enquirers—
as furnishing a key, not merely to this or that particular science or subject,
but to every thing included within the vast circuit of human knowledge. It
is indeed obvious, that if an Encyclopaedia has in any tolerable degree realized
its objects, an index to it must necessarily be the most useful compilation of its
kind that can by possibility exist; and it certainly must, at first view, appear
somewhat remarkable, that no similar appendage to any such work should have
been previously exemplified in this country. It was thought, perhaps, that an
Encyclopaedia is itself a species of Index; and that the contents of each article
are sufficiently disclosed by its title. The Editor had been long of opinion
that an Index pointing to the information upon particular topics, scattered
under a multitude of different heads, or lurking in corners where it might not
be expected or readily found, was absolutely necessary to perfect an Ency¬
clopaedia as a book of reference; particularly an Encyclopaedia in which
general subjects are discussed in systematic or complete treatises—includ¬
ing facts, opinions, and authorities, which their titles alone could not pos¬
sibly indicate. It was, therefore, from the first, a favourite part of his plan
to superadd this recommendation to the present edition ; but the design, how¬
ever carefully considered, would have lost much of its value, had it not been
PREFACE.
xli:
carried into execution with a degree of intelligence and zeal, seldom exem- ’
plified in a performance wholly unattended with literary distinction. For this
the Editor is indebted to Mr Cox; and he will be thanked by all who avail
themselves of the ready access which he has thus laid open to the treasures of
this multifarious Repertory. Some explanatory details as to the structure of
the Index, will be found in the notice which he has prefixed to it.
The Editor cannot quit the foregoing Outline without a few deprecatory
words as to its contents. In the first place, he hopes that no contributor
whose labours and name have not been mentioned, will ascribe the omission to
any want of respect for either; or to any cause but the necessity of bringing the
selections within some reasonable compass, and the apprehension of creating
disgust by a cumbrous multiplicity of details; the less wanted as to names,
that the Signature to each new article will, on turning to the annexed
Table, immediately disclose its authorship. In the second place, and
still more earnestly, he begs to express the hope, that no one will ascribe
the language of commendation which he has occasionally used, to any pre¬
sumptuous idea of its being of any consequence, either to those to whom it
applies, or to the public. He conceived it to be his duty to give some account
of the formation and contents of the work; and, in doing so, he has only exer¬
cised the privilege allowed to the humblest historian, of representing the
things and persons that come under his review in the light in which they
appear to his own understanding.
Allusion has just been made to the Signatures designed to connect authors
with their contributions. This expedient, which is as evidently useful in an
extensive Encyclopaedia, in order to give each article the authority due to
its author’s name, as it would seem to be injurious in a Critical Journal,
bv repressing that freedom, and neutralizing that community of sentiment
which ought to obtain in such a publication, wTas first employed in the French
Encyclopedic; but not always with perfect honesty; for latterly, it was not
unusual to screen living writers, by affixing to articles of a certain description
xlii
PREFACE.
 les diatribes les plm hardies—the signatures of those who were dead.* The
expedient in question was adopted by the Editor, and steadily practised, with the
marked approbation of the public, throughout the late Supplement; and it has
been repeated in the present edition with increased confidence in its utility. To
render the literary history of the work as complete as possible, the Editor has
also annexed Signatures to articles of eminence written for previous editions,
wherever he was enabled to do so upon authoritative grounds. He is sorry to
add, that in many copies, Signatures both to new articles and to some
reprinted from the Supplement, have been accidentally omitted; and, what is
worse, that they have, in a few instances, been so applied as to give to one
author what was written by another. The mistakes that might arise from
these defects and inaccuracies, will be partly obviated by the statements in this
Preface; but, still further to remedy them, a corrective Memorandum has
been subjoined to the Table of Signatures ; and the Editor ventures to hope
that such blunders in the handicraft details of a work so extensive, will be
acknowledged as almost unavoidable, even by those whom they personally
affect.
A few omissions in the text, for which the Editor alone is to blame, were
discovered too late to be remedied. Partial errors may also be perceived.
It is hardly possible, in fact, for human circumspection to recollect and pro¬
vide for every thing that ought to be found in so multifarious a publication;
and blemishes which, looking to the general merits of the execution, cannot
fairly be ascribed either to remissness or indifference, the candid and consider¬
ate will readily excuse.
The Editor conceives it to be unnecessary to make any detailed obser¬
vations as to the Woodcuts, Engravings, and Maps, with which the
work is so copiously illustrated. They speak sufficiently for themselves,
both in respect of number and execution; yet it would be unjust not to
acknowledge, that though contributors are sometimes apt to make large
* See Biographic Universelle, Tom. X. Art. Damilaville.
PREFACE.
xliii
demands for these expensive appendages, no complaint of a grudging supply
ever came to his knowledge; and, as he left the publishers almost wholly
to their own discretion in this particular, the merit of the arrangements
in this costly department belongs entirely to them.
There is no literary undertaking which so severely tries both the purse
and the judgment of the projectors, as an extensive Encyclopaedia ; and surely
they who take the risks attending a work so eminently useful—whose import¬
ance to the general culture of the national understanding it would not be
easy to overrate—which gives to the truths of science a wider and more
beneficial diffusion than they could otherwise attain—and which places a large
amount of knowledge, upon every subject of human enquiry, within easy
reach and ready reference—are well entitled to adequate returns. But years
must elapse before that harvest can be fully reaped; and the Editor hopes
that he may be allowed, on taking leave of the work, to express his earnest
wishes for the prosperity of those who entrusted to his direction so great a
venture, and liberally supplied the means of success. Joined with other per¬
sonal feelings incident to such an occasion, is the mournful recollection of the
too great number of illustrious and able coadjutors, who, since the period of
his^rstf connexion with this work, have paid the great debt of nature—among
them, some of the most revered of his instructors and esteemed of his
friends. But he gladly quits this topic, to express, in conclusion, his grati¬
tude to those survivors, through whose countenance and talents his task has
been brought to a satisfactory close.
Edinburgh, March 1842.
MACVEY NAPIER.
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SIGNATURES.
The employment of Signatures to indicate the Authors of the Contributions to which they are
annexed, is particularly mentioned in the foregoing Preface. The original intention with respect to
their application was, to affix to each contribution a letter of the alphabet, taken progressively from
the established series; and when one series was exhausted, to use two or more corresponding letters,
according as the contributions to, which they were to be attached should come earlier or later into the
text of the work. This plan was followed till the alphabet was four times repeated, and Signatures
consisted of one, two, three, and four corresponding letters. It would have been better, perhaps, to
have continued the same mode of indication throughout; but as the Signatures appeared likely to
become somewhat cumbrous, and as it was of little moment what mark was used, provided the
choice was fixed, the practice crept in of employing two different letters, and, in one or two instances,
the initials of the author’s name. Hence the change that will be perceived in the annexed Table.
The application of these Signatures was at first intended to be limited to New Contributions, and
to those reprinted, with or without additions, from the late Supplement; but in order to make the
literary history of the work more complete, it was afterwards thought advisable to indicate, in the same
way, the writers of articles of distinction or importance reprinted from any preceding edition, in as far
as the authorship could be authoritatively ascertained. The Signatures thus refer to three sets of
Contributions:—those written for the present edition; those reprinted from the Supplement; and those
reprinted from earlier editions. The number of these so marked is but small.
TABLE
TABLE
A. James Browne, LL.D., Advocate.
B. Sir John Leslie, late Professor of Natural
Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh,
Corresponding Member of the Royal Institute
of France.
C. George BucHANAN,Esq.,F.R.S.E.,Civil Engineer.
D. James Cleghorn, Esq.
E. Hugh Murray, Esq., F.R.S.E.
F. David Buchanan, Esq.
G. William Jacob, Esq., F.R.S.
H. James Pillans, F.R.S.E., Professor of Huma¬
nity in the University of Edinburgh.
I. Charles Mackenzie, Esq., F.R.S.
K. John Colquhoun, Esq., F.R.S.E., Advocate.
L. Thomas Thomson, M.D., F.R.S. Lond. and
Edinb., Professor of Chemistry in the Univer¬
sity of Glasgow.
M. Sir John Barrow, Bart., F.R.S.
N. John Playfair, F.R.S. Lond. and Edinb., late
Professor of Natural Philosophy in the Uni¬
versity of Edinburgh.
O. Robert Jameson, F.R.S. Lond. and Edinb.,
Regius Professor of Natural History in the
University of Edinburgh.
P. Charles MacLaren, Esq., F.R.S.E.
Q. John C. Dunlop, Esq., F.R.S.E., Advocate.
R. William Wallace, LL.D., F.R.S.E., late
Professor of Mathematics in the University of
Edinburgh.
S. Thomas Galloway, Esq., F.R.S., Secretary to
the Royal Astronomical Society.
T. James Wilson, Esq., F.R.S.E.
U. Thomas Jefferson Hogg, Esq.
V. David Craigie, M.D., F.R.S.E.
W. Daniel Ellis, Esq., F.R.S.E.
X. David Irving, LL.D.
Y. Peter M. Roget, M.D., F.R.S., Secretary to
the Royal Society.
Z. Andrew Duncan, Jun., M.D., F.R.S.E., late
Professor of Medical Jurisprudence in the
University of Edinburgh.
A. A. Joshua Milne, Esq., Actuary to the Sun
Life Assurance Company.
B. B. William Archibald Cadell, Esq., F.R.S.
Lond. and Edinb.
C. C. J. R. M‘Culloch, Esq., Corresponding
Member of the Royal Institute of France.
D. D. William Hazlitt, Esq.
E. E. Robert Mushet, Esq., late of the Royal Mint.
F. F. Captain Spearman.
G. G. Antonio Panizzi, LL.D., Librarian to the
British Museum.
H. H. William Hosking, Esq., F.S.A., Architect
and Engineer.
LI. Reverend R. Dickson Hampden, D.D.,
Regius Professor of Divinity in the Uni¬
versity of Oxford.
K. K. James Ivory, Esq., F.R.S., Corresponding
Member of the Royal Institute of France.
L. L. ThomasYoung, M.D., F.R.S., Corresponding
Member of the Royal Institute of France.
M. M. Joseph Lowe, Esq.
N. N. Sir Jo. Graham Dalyell, Bart.
O. O. James Glassford, Esq., Advocate.
P. P. Francis Jeffrey, Esq. (now Lord Jeffrey.)
Q. Q. Sir George Ballingall, M.D., Regius Pro¬
fessor of Military Surgery in the University
of Edinburgh.
T. T. Robert Stevenson, Esq., F.R.S.E., Civil
Engineer.
U. U. John Gillies, M.D., late of Buenos Ayres.
V. V. Sir William Hamilton, Bart., Professor of
Logic in the University of Edinburgh,
Corresponding Member of the Royal In¬
stitute of France.
TABLE.
xlvii
X. X.
Y. Y. .
Z. Z.
A. A.A.
B. B.B.
C. C.C.
D. D.D.
E. E.E.
F. F.F.
G. G.G.
H. H.H.
I. LI.
K. K.K.
L. L.L.
M. M.M.
N. N.N.
0.0.0.
p.p.p.
Q. Q.Q.
R. R.R.
s.s.s.
u. u.u.
v. y.v.
Sir Jaimes Edward Smith, F.R.S., late Pre¬
sident of the Linnean Society.
Thomas Henry Lister, Esq., Registrar-Ge¬
neral.
Adam Hay, Esq.
W. W.W. Thomas De Quincey, Esq.
X. X.X. James Cleland, LL.D.
Y. Y.Y. Mr William Cooper.
Z. Z.Z. John Maoculloch, M.D., F.R.S., late
Chemist to the Board of Ordnance.
James Mill, Esq., Late of the India-House.
John Robison, LL.D., F.R.S., Lond. and
Edinb., late Professor of Natural Philo¬
sophy in the University of Edinburgh.
David Laing, Esq.
Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
Henry Meikle, Esq., Civil Engineer.
Reverend John Fleming, D.D., F.R.S.E.,
Professor of Natural Philosophy, King’s
College, Aberdeen.
W. H. Lizars, Esq.
Dugald Bannatyne, Esq.
Thomas Stewart Traill, M.D., F.R.S.E.,
Professor of Medical Jurisprudence in
the University of Edinburgh.
Henry Stephens, Esq., Civil Engineer.
Reverend Robert Morehead, D. D.,
F.R.S.E.
A.A.A.A.
B. B.B.B.
C. C.C.C.
D. D.D.D.
E.E.E.E.
F.F.F.F.
G. G.G.G.
H. H.H.H.
LI.I.I.
William Chambers, Esq.
Sir David Brewster, F.R.S. Lond.
and Edinb., Corresponding Member of
the Royal Institute of France, and Prin¬
cipal of the United College, St Andrews.
Rev. G. B. Wilding, A.M., Oxford.
Rev. John Lee, D.D., F.R.S.E., Principal
of the University of Edinburgh.
John Allen, Esq., Master of Dulwich
College.
John Francis Smith, Esq.
David Ricardo, Esq.
James Stark, Esq., Puisne Judge of the
Supreme Court, Ceylon.
Adam Anderson, LL.D., Professor of
Natural Philosophy in the United Col¬
lege, St Andrews.
K. K.K.K.
L. L.L.L.
M. M.M.M.
N. N.N.N.
o. o.o.o.
p. p.p.p.
Q. Q.Q.Q-
R. R.R.R.
s. S.S.S.
T.T.T.T.
William P. Alison, M.D., F.R.S.E.,
Professor of the Institutes of Medi¬
cine in the University of Edinburgh.
Charles Apperley, Esq.
J. Birkenshaw, Esq.
Rev. David Welsh, D.D., F.R.S.E.,
Professor of Ecclesiastical History in
the University of Edinburgh.
William Empson, Professor of General
Policy and the Law of England, in
the East India College, Hertford.
John Thomson, M.D., Professor of
Pathology in the University of Edin¬
burgh.
Thomas Tredgold, Esq., Civil Engi¬
neer.
Right Reverend George Gleig, D.D.
Lockhart Muirhead, LL.D., late
Professor of Natural History in the
University of Glasgow.
Richard Poole, M.D.
William Thomson, M.D., Professor of
the Theory and Practice of Physic
in the University of Glasgow.
John Hill Burton, Esq., Advocate.
Rev. William Lindsay Alexander,
David Doig, LL.D., late Rector of the
Grammar School, Stirling.
Henry Dewar, M.D., F.R.S.E.
Benjamin Robert Haydon, Esq.
Alexander Dunlop, Esq., Advocate.
Jean Baptiste Biot, Member of the
Royal Institute of France.
D. F. Arago, Member of the Royal
Institute of France.
xlviii
TABLE.
U. U.U.U.
V. V.V.V.
W. W.W.W.
X.X.X.X.
Y.Y.Y.Y.
Z.Z.Z.Z.
A.A.A.A.A.
John Ward, Esq.
JohnC. Loudon, Esq., F.L.S. and H.S.
George Moir, Esq., Advocate, late
Professor of Rhetoric in the Univer¬
sity of Edinburgh.
Robert Christison, M.D., F.R.S.E.,
Professor of Materia Medica in the
University of Edinburgh.
Reverend Thomas Robert Malthus,
late Professor of Political Economy
in the East India College, Hertford.
Alexander Smith, Esq.
George Coode, Esq.
B.C. John Davenport, Esq.
B.D. Thomas C. Hansard, Esq.
B.E. William Howitt.
B.F. Theodore Martin, Esq.
B.G. James Douglas, Esq., of Cavers.
B.H. Peter Lecount, Esq., R.N., Civil Engineer.
B.I. Alan Stevenson, Esq., F.R.S.E., Civil En¬
gineer.
B.K. Honourable and Reverend Charles Ba¬
thurst, LL.D.
B.L. William Spalding, Advocate, Professor of
Rhetoric in the University of Edinburgh.
B.M. Douglas MacLagan, M.D.
B.N. Reverend John Wallace.
B.O. Reverend William M. Hetherington.
B.P. Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, Bart., F.R.S.E.
B.Q. Reverend James Taylor.
B.R. Patrick Neill, LL.D., F.R.S.E.
B.S. James Newlands, Esq., Civil Engineer.
B.T. Captain Basil Hall, R.N., F.R.S.
B.U. Robert Allan, Esq., Advocate, F.R.S.E.
B.W. George Ferguson, Esq.
B.X. (Author of the Oakleigh Shooting Code.)
B.Y. John Wigham.
B. Z. Augustin F. B. Creuze, Esq.
C. A. John Scott Russell, Esq., F.R.S.E., Civil
Engineer.
C.D.
C.E.
C.F.
C.G.
C.H.
C.I.
C.K.
C.L.
C.M.
C.N.
c.o.
C.P.
C.Q.
C.R.
c.s.
C.T.
C.U.
C.W.
C.X.
C. Y>
D. A.
D.B.
D.C.
D.E.
D.F.
D.G.
D.H.
D.I.
D.K.
D.L.
D.M.
D.N.
James Miller, Esq., F.R.S.E.
Edward Sang,Esq., F.R.S.E., Civil Engineer.
Robert Cox, Esq.
Charles Cowan, Esq.
Mr James Laurie.
Thomas Murray, LL.D.
Alfred Ainger, Esq.
Patrick Frazer Tytler, Esq., Advocate.
James Stark, M.D., F.R.S.E.
William Stevenson, Esq.
Charles Sylvester, Esq., Civil Engineer.
Reverend Edward Groves, Record Office,
Dublin.
Craufurd Tait Ramage, Esq.
William Weir, Esq., Advocate.
Mr John Duncan.
Reverend William Turner.
James Stoddart, Esq., F.R.S.
Reverend J. P. Davies.
William Dick, Lecturer on Veterinary Sur¬
gery to the Highland and Agricultural
Society of Scotland.
Mr Thomas Barclay.
Lieut.-Col. Charles Hamilton Smith,
F.R.S.
Reverend Philip Kelland, F.R.S. Lond.
and Edinb., Professor of Mathematics in
the University of Edinburgh.
John Phillip, F.R.S., Professor of Geology
in King’s College, London.
Mr Ebenezer Johnstone.
Reverend William S. Gilly, D.D., Pre¬
bendary of Durham.
David Boswell Reid, M.D., F.R.S.E.
Andrew Fyfe, M.D., F.R.S.E.
Mr John Lothian.
William Pyper, Esq,
Henry Samuel Chapman, Esq., of the
Middle Temple.
George Johnston, M.D.
Reverend John Reid Omond,
OMISSIONS AND CORRECTIONS.
xlix
D.O. Thomas Henderson, F.R.S.E., Professor of
Practical Astronomy in the University of
. Edinburgh.
D.P. James Walker Arnott, LL.D., Advocate.
D.Q. James Donaldson, Esq.
D.R. Thomas Allan, Esq., F.R.S.E.
D.S. Charles Stokes, Esq., F.R.A. and L.S.
D.T. John Flockhart Sloane, Esq.
A.R.C. Aglionby Ross Carson, LL.D., Rector of
the High School, Edinburgh.
G.F.G. George Farquhar Grahame, Esq.
OMISSIONS AND CORRECTIONS.
Signatures have been frequently omitted, both in the case of Articles reprinted from the Supple¬
ment, and those written for the present work; and this has happened sometimes with respect to the
whole of an author’s contributions, sometimes with respect only to a part. The annexed details will,
it is hoped, in a great measure remedy these omissions; but wherever there is any doubt as to the
authorship of a particular article, the reader will do well to turn to the Preface, to ascertain whether
the article in question is there mentioned; for if it is, the name of its author will be found stated in
connexion with it.
It is proper to mention further, that the omissions are more numerous in some copies of the
work than in others; for when the impression was enlarged to meet the increased demand, Signatures
were annexed to those Articles which had been discovered to want them.
I.—Articles without Signatures.*
articles.
Britain. Egypt.
Atmometef. ........
The greater portion of the Scottish Counties : also, 'i
Cumberland, County of. . . . . . )
Babylon. Borneo. Jains, (Sect of)
X
Benares. Filangieri, (Gaetan.) France, (Statistics of.)
Mysore. Necker. Nepaul. Rhodes. Siam. Siberia.
Sinde. Singapore. Statistics. United States. Van
Diemen’s Land. . . . . .
Demerara. Guiana. Holland. Hungary. London. \
Mutis, (J. C.) . . . . . . .)
AUTHORS.
James Browne, LL.D.
Sir John Leslie.
James Cleghorn, Esq.
Hugh Murray, Esq.
David Buchanan, Esq.
William Jacob, Esq.
* The Articles in this List, having been mostly written by the authors mentioned in the preceding Tabid, are entered fn
the order in which thd names of the writers occur in that Table—the names,only, without titles, being on that account, and
to avoid repetition, herd affixed.
1
OMISSIONS AND CORRECTIONS.
ARTICLES.
Brissot. De Brosses. M. Buat. Ceylon. Cornwallis.
Denina. Duclos. Dumarsais. Dundas, (Henry.)
Dunning. Dussaulx. Dutens. Eberliard, (J. A.)
Garve, (C.) Genovesi, (A.) *
Block-Machinery. Dock. Dock-Yards. Fisheiies
Himalaya Mountains.
Aurora- Borealis. Mineralogy.
Europe. Greece. Ionian Islands.
Moore, (Dr John.)
Mensuration. Porism. Series. Squaring.
nometry. ....
Porism, (Additions to.) Projectiles
Fluids, (Additions to.) .
Vegetable Physiology.
Baldinger. Kaleidoscope.
Aqua-Tofana.
Cinnamon. Copper. Klinometer.
Exchange. Money.
Burger, (G. A.)
Aristotle. ....
Carpentry, (Additions to.) Coulomb. Heberden, (W.)
Herculaneum. Lagrange. Language, (affinities of.)
Lemonnier. Malus. Maskelyne, (Dr.) Mechain.
Messier. Orme, (Robert.) .....
Confederation of the Rhine. Copyright. .
Anderson, (Dr James.) Arreoys. Balm of Gilead.
Battles. Beykaneer. Bogalcund. Borromean
Islands. Bronzing.
Bacon, (John.)
Blasting. ....
Bogota. ...
Botany, Historical View of, and of Botanical Systems.
Jussieu. ....
Sculpture, (Additions to.)
Pump 
Dalrymple, (Sir David.) .
Dialling. Skew Bridge.
Mollusca. ....
Aquatinta Engraving. Engraving. Etching.
Credit. .....
Medical Jurisprudence.
:}
AUTHORS.
John Colquhoun, Esq.
Sir John Barrow.
Professor Jameson.
Charles MacLaren, Esq.
J. C. Dunlop, Esq.
William Wallace, LL.D.
Thomas Galloway, Esq.
Daniel Ellis, Esq.
Dr Roget.
Dr Duncan, Jun.
W. A. Cadell, Esq.
J. R. M£Culloch, Esq.
William Hazlitt, Esq.
Reverend Dr Hampden.
Dr Thomas.Young.
Joseph Lowe, Esq.
Sir John Graham Dalyell, Bart.
James Glassford, Esq.
Robert Stevenson, Esq.
Dr Gillies.
Sir J. E. Smith.
Adam Hay, Esq.
Professor Robison.
David Laing, Esq.
Henry Meikle, Esq.
Reverend Dr Fleming.
W. H. Lizars, Esq.
D. Bannatyne, Esq.
Dr Traill.
OMISSIONS AND CORRECTIONS.
li
ARTICLES.
Delille 
Mechanics. Micrometer. Optics. Voltaic Electricity.
Burns. Canning. Canova. Collingwood. Fez. Fezzan.
Flaxman. Florida. Grattan. Greenock. Mexico.
Puno. Rio Grande do Sul. Rio de Janeiro.
Four Borough Court. Lyon-King of Arms. Scot¬
land, (Judicial Establishments of.)
Gunpowder.
Laws and Government of England; forming Part Se¬
cond of article England. Legislation.
Joinery. . ' .
History of Ethics, (forming part of Moral Philosophy.)
Theology. ......#.
Medicine. Practice of Physic. ....
Mary, (Virgin.) Melchisedec. Theology, (Additions to.)
Condillac. ........
Prisons. Punishments. ......
Embanking. ........
Post-Office. ........
Piano-Forte. ........
Porcelain, (Additions to.) Pottery, (Additions to.)
Viaduct. ........
Geography. ........
Birmingham. Bristol. Paris. Statistics of Prussia.
Horticulture. ........
Iceland. Insurance. ......
Steam. Steam-Engine. Steam Navigation.
Steam Navigation, History of. .
The General Index. ......
Paper-Making. .......
Statistics of Sweden. . . . . .
Kirkcudbrightshire, (Additions to.) Statistics of Scot¬
land. Whithorn.   
Lock. .........
History of Scotland. ......
Abyssinia. Baltic Sea. Barracks. Bentinck, (Duke
of Portland.) Berbice. Black Sea. Bundelcund.
Annealing. Anvil. Blowpipe. Brass-making.
Ireland, and the Irish Counties. ....
Articles in Classical and Mythological Biography, from
letter G to S. . . . . • « •
1
I
I
1
AUTHORS.
Reverend Dr Morehead.
Sir David Brewster.
J. F. Smith, Esq.
James Stark, Esq.
Dr M'Cueloch.
Professor Empson.
Thomas Tredgold, Esq.
Reverend Dr Gleig.
William Thomson, M.D.
Reverend Mr Alexander.
Dr Dewar.
John Ward, Esq.
J. C. Loudon, Esq.
Alexander Smith, Esq.
G. F. Graham, Esq.
John Davenport, Esq.
P. Lecount, Esq.
Reverend John Wallace.
Reverend James Taylor.
Dr Neill.
Robert Allan, Esq.
J. S. Russell, Esq.
James Newlands, Esq.
Robert Cox, Esq.
Charles Cowan, Esq.
Mr James Laurie.
Dr Murray.
Alfred Ainger, Esq.
P. F. Tytler, Esq.
William Stevenson, Esq.
Charles Sylvester, Esq.
Reverend E. Groves.
C. T. Ramage, Esq.
lii
OMISSIONS AND CORRECTIONS.
ARTICLES.
Brazil. ........ i
Calender. . . . . . • .
Colliery, (Winning and Working.) ....
Cutlery. ...... . .
Denbighshire. Derbyshire. Devonshire. Dorset-)
shire. Durhamshire. . . . . . . *
Veterinary Science. ......
Fifeshire. Firth of Forth. Inverkeithing. Kinghorn.)
Kirkcaldy. . . . . . . .
Operations by Land, (forming part of the general article ^
on War.) . . . . . . . . f
Variations. ........
Geology. ........
Stirling. Stirlingshire.
Smoke. Stove. .......
Orkney Islands.
Practical Astronomy, (Additions to.)
Botany. ........
Chess. . . . . . . . . .*
Diamond. ........
Lithography. ........
Isle of Man. ........
Balance of Power. Bibliography. Biographical Ar-'
tides, General and Scottish; viz. — Abdollatiph.
Acosta. Donna Agnesi. Chancellor D’Aguessau. -
Alfarabius. Alhazen. Archibald Constable, Esq.
Sir John Leslie. ......
AUTHORS.
W. Weir, Esq.
Mr John Duncan.
Reverend William Turner.
Mr Stoddart.
Reverend J. P. Davies.
Mr Dick.
Mr Thomas Barclay.
Lieutenant-Colonel Smith.
Professor Kelland.
Professor Phillips.
Mr E. Johnstone.
Dr A. Fyfe.
Reverend J. R. Omond.
Professor Henderson.
J. W. Arnott, LL.D.
James Donaldson, Esq.
Thomas Allan, Esq.
Charles Stokes, Esq.
J. F. Sloane, Esq.
Editor.
II.—Articles with Erroneous Signatures.
As mentioned in the Preface, Signatures have, in a few instances, been incorrectly applied. The
annexed corrections will, it is believed, rectify all the errors of the kind that have been committed.
The Article Aqua-Tofana has the sig. X. instead of Z.
Benares, S. instead of F.
Bogalcund, F. instead of N.N.
Botany, U.U. instead of X.X. and D.P.
Copyright, D.D. instead of M.M.
Mysore, B. instead of F.
The Article Practice of Physic, L. instead of L.L.L.L.
Porcelain, X.X. instead of B.C.
Pottery, X.X.X.X. instead of B.C.
Prisons, X. instead of U.U.U.U.
Vegetable Physiology, Q. instead of W.
GENERAL INDEX.
Ihis Index is intended not merely to facilitate reference to the Articles and Treatises contained in the
Encyclopedia, but to serve the far more important purpose of bringing into view, and directing the inquirer to
the varied information scattered through them, but not indicated by their heads or titles—a requisite which the
plan of general treatises and systems adopted in this Encyclopedia renders particularly desirable. In this way
much information upon various topics not so indicated will be found in these Treatises; and it is obviously of
great importance, that those making inquiries regarding such topics, should be enabled to turn at once to the
places m which that information may be found. For instance, a reader desirous of learning as much as possible
.about Scotland and Scottish affairs, will not only find, under the head Scotland, a general view of the history
nd statistics of the country, but be referred by the Index to many other parts of the work (such as Britain,
E isheries, Roads, &c.), where a great variety of additional particulars are furnished. Again, as the sciences
discussed in the Enciclopedia under their general names, the principal details embraced by them are given
under such heads as Anatomy, Chemistry, Entomology, Metaphysics, Meteorology, &c. By consulting the
Index, therefore, the student will be saved the trouble of looking through a long treatise in search of information
upon particulai points; and those, again, who are in quest of information which they might not think was to be
found under such heads, may, in the same way, be enabled unexpectedly to extend their knowledge. Those
indexes which have already been given at the end of the Preliminary Dissertations, and of the articles on the na¬
tural history of animals and some other sciences, are here embodied under one Alphabet.
It is necessary to observe, that, with the proper character of an Index, that of a Table of Contents is not here
combined. For example, under the head Scotland in the Index, no reference whatever is made to the contents
of the article so headed in the Encyclopedia ; it being presumed that a person in quest of knowledge about Scot¬
land will commence by turning over the pages of that article, and so ascertaining its contents. But the particulars
there given enter the Index under the various heads of Agriculture, Banks, Coal, Fisheries, Iron, Libraries,
Railroads, and so forth.
The name of every subject to which an article is devoted in the Encyclopedia, is printed in capital letters in
the Index ; and the first reference is to the volume and page where the article occurs. The immediately subsequent
references are, as generally as possible, arranged according to the fulness of the information to which they point;
and hence the probability is increased, that, by turning to the places first indicated, the reader will find the in¬
formation he desires. On subjects undistinguished by capital letters in the Index, no separate articles occur in the
Encyclopedia.
When an article in the Index contains many references to countries and towns, the names of the latter are
alphabetically arranged, in the manner exemplified under the heads Agriculture, Army, Canals, &c. The
adoption of this plan will save time and trouble to persons consulting the Index. In many chemical articles, such
as Oxides, Sulphurets, &c„ a similar arrangement is followed. References to maps are always given last.
Many French names have Le, La, De, Des, or Du, prefixed to them; as Le Clerc, La Harpe, La Place.
De Moivre, Du Halde, Des Cartes. Sometimes both words are thrown into one; as Laplace, Lagrange. It is
II
a question whether, in such cases, the initial letter of the prefix, or that of the distinctive word, ought to determine
the position of the name in the Index. Except where both words are usually joined, no general rule has been
strictly adhered to in the body of the work; for the most part, however, the prefix has been disregarded—so that
Du liable, for example, appears under the letter H, and Le Clerc under the letter C. In compiling the Index,
the following principle has been adopted :—Where a name is commonly printed as two words (Le Clerc, for in¬
stance), the latter determines its place in the Index; while in such cases as Laplace, Descartes, &c., the former is
followed. It may be well, however, for the reader to look at both places when any doubt is entertained.
Many individuals are better known by their titles than by their surnames ; thus, Henry Home is currently re¬
ferred to as Lord Karnes, and Sir Thomas Wentworth as the Earl of Strafford. To avoid confusion, it is customary
in Biographical Dictionaries to adopt the surname as the word regulating the position of the article; and from this
sound practice there is, in the present Index, almost no deviation that the compiler's knowledge enabled him to
avoid. As, however, some readers must be presumed to be ignorant of the surnames of men whose titles are their
ordinary designations, titles also are generally inserted, with merely a reference to the surnames. To make
inquiry secure, both ought to be consulted.
The only additional remark which seems called for is, that in proper names in which the diphthong ce or oe
occurs, the diphthong is retained, instead of being supplanted by the letter e, as is now sometimes the case. The
reader will therefore turn to iEtna, not Etna; and to uEolus, not Eolus.
K. C.
GENERAL INDEX
A—ABA
A, the first letter of the alphabet, II. 1.
Aa, several rivers so named, II. 2.
Aahus, a town in Germany, II. 2.
Aalborg, a Danish see, II. 2—city, ib.
A A i. E x, in Wirtemberg, II. 3.
Aalsmeer, a town in Holland, II. 3,
Aalten, a town in Holland, II. 3.
Aam, a Dutch liquid measure, II. 3.
Aamadot, a town in Norway, II. 3.
Aar, rivers and island so named, II. 3.
Aarassus, a town of Pisidia, II. 3.
Aarau, in Switzerland, II. 8,
Aarburg, in Switzerland, H. 3.
Aardenburg, a Dutch town, II. 3.
Aargau, II. 3—manufactures of, XXI.
49—education in, 50.
Aarhuhs, in Denmark, II. 3.
Aaron, II. 3, 4.
Aarsens (Francis), II. 4.
Aarwangen, a Swiss town, II. 4.
Aasar, a town in Palestine, II. 4.
Aaserald, a town in Norway, II. 4,
Aasi, river, II. 4.
Aastrup, a town in Denmark, II. 4.
Ab, a Hebrew and Syriac month, II. 4.
Aba, II. 5.
Ababde Arabs, II. 225 ; IX. 377.
Abacasncm, a Sicilian town, II. 5.
Abacinare, II. 6.
Abaciscus, in architecture, III. 4G4.
Aback, a sea term, II. 5.
Abacot, an ancient cap of state, II. 5.
Abactors, II. 5.
Abacds, in architecture, II. 5; in. 464
—cupboard, II. 5—arithmetical in¬
strument, ib.
Abaddon, II. 9 ; XX. 155.
Abadir, in mythology, H. 9.
Ab*, a town of Phocis, II. 9.
Abaft, a sea term, II. 9.
Abagaitouyes, in Russia, II. 9.
Abaissed, in heraldry, II. 9.
Abaka (Khan), Mogul emperor, H. 9.
Abakansk, in Siberia, II. 9.
Abalienation, in law, II. 9.
Aballaba, II. 9.
Abalus, island, II. 9.
Abana, a Phoenician river, II. 9.
Abanga. See Ady.
Abanilla, a town in Spain, II. 9.
Abano, a town in Italy, II. io.
Ab antes, an ancient people, II. 10.
Abantias, a name of Euboea, II. 10.
Abany, a town in Hungary, II. 10.
Abaptiston, in surgery, II. 10.
Abaran, a town in Spain, II. 10.
Aba rca, an ancient shoe, II. 10.
Abarim, hills in Palestine, II. 10.
Abaris, II. 10 ; VIII. 207.
Ab articulation, in anatomy, II. 10.
Abas, II. 10.
Abascia, in Georgia, II. 10.
Abassi, a Persian coin, II. 11.
Abassus, a Phrygian town, II. 11.
Abasias, a town in Spain, II. H.
Abatamentum, in law, II. 11.
Abate, II. H.
Abatelment, in commerce, II. H,
Abatement, in heraldry, II. n.
Abatis, II. 11; IX. 786.
Abaton, a building at Rhodes, II. II.
Abator, in law, II. H.
Abatos, near Memphis, II. 11.
Abatskaja, a Siberian town, II. 11.
Abaujvar, in Hungary, II. H.
ABA—ABE
Abauzit (Firmin), II. 11.
Abavo, in botany, II. 12.
Abb, a term among clothiers II. 12.
Abba, II, 12.
Abbach, a Bavarian town, II. 12.
Abbadil (James), II. 12.
Abbas, Mahomet’s uncle, II. 12  
(Schah), kings of Persia, II. 12 ; XVII.
2G6— Mirza, XXI. 67.
Abbassides, a race of caliphs, II. 12.
Abbateggio, a town of Naples, II. 12.
Abbe', title of, II. 12.
Abbehausen, in Germany, II. 12.
Abbess, II. 12.
Abbeville, in France, II. 13.
Abbey, II. 13.
Abbeyboyle, an Irish town, II. 13.
Abbeyholm, in Cumberland, II. 13.
Abbiate Grapfo, in Italy, II. 13.
Abbot, II. 13.
   (Geo.), Archbishop of Canter¬
bury, II. 14.
 (Robert), II. 15.
 (C.), chosen Speaker of the House
of Commons, V. 513—his resignation,
543.
Abbots-Bromley, II. 16.
Abbotsbury, II. 16.
Abbotsford, seat of Sir Walter Scott,
XIX. 512.
Abbots-Langley, II. 16.
Abbott, Lord Tenterden, on average,
IV. 251-3.
Abbreviations, II. 16—arithmetical,
HI. 543—characters of, VI. 323—in
ancient codices, VIII. 38. See Steno¬
graphy.
Abbreviators, college in Rome, II. 20.
Abbs, St, promontory, II. 20.
Abbutals, II. 20.
Abcedary, or Abcedarian, II. 20.
Abchasien, in Asiatic Russia, II. 20,
Abdalla, Mahomet’s father, II. 20.
Abdallah, a Wahaby chief, III. 345-6.
   caliph, II. 531; III. 343.
Abdallatif, traveller, II. 20.
Abdalmalek, caliph, II. 21.
Abdalonymus of Sidon, H. 22.
Abdals, oriental saints, II. 22.
Abd-el-Azyz, III. 344. ,
Abdera, a town in Thrace, II. 22.
Abderahma, II. 22.
Abderahman III., reign of, XX. 496.
Abdest, II. 22.
Abdias of Babylon, II. 22.
Abdication, II. 22; VII. 733.
Abdollatiphjhis anatomical observations,
II. 692.
Abdolmumen, II. 535.
Abdomen, in anatomy, II. 22—regions
of the, 757—muscles of the, 793, 794.
—See Entomology, Ichthyology, &c.
Abdominal viscera, diseases of, in the do¬
mestic animals, XXI. 623.
Abdominales, fishes, II. 22—their fins
and pelvis, III. 17, 18.
Abdon, an East India island, II. 22.
Abduction, in logic, II. 22.
Abductor, in anatomy, II. 23.
Abdul Medjed, sultan XXI. 417.
Abdulpoor, a town in India, II. 23.
Abejar, a town in Spain, II. 23.
Abel, son of Adam and Eve, II. 23.
 (Mr), on the tea-plant, XXI. 130.
- (Thomas), II. 38.
ABE—ABI
Abela (Leonard), II. 311.
Abelard, Peter, II. 23.
Abel-Keramin, II. 23.
Abel-Meholah, II. 23.
Abel-Mizraim, II. 23.
Abel-Sattim, II. 23.
Abelians, a sect of heretics, II. 25.
Abella, a town of Campania, II. 25.
Abellinum, a town in Italy, II. 25.
Abenas, a French town, II. 25.
Aben-Ezra (Abraham), rabbi, II. 25.
Abenheim, in Hesse Darmstadt, II. 25.
Aben-Meller, rabbi, II. 25.
Abensberg, in Bavaria, II. 25.
Abensperg, in Bavaria, II. 25.
Aberavon, in Glamorganshire, II. 25.
Aberbrothick, II. 25. See Arbroath.
Aberconway, II. 26. See Conway.
Abercrombie (Dr John) on cerebral dis¬
ease, XVII. 481, 489, 493.
Abercromby (the Hon. Alexander), II.
26.
 (General), his operations in In¬
dia, V. 462.
 (Sir Ralph), II. 26—his expedi¬
tion to Holland, V. 489, 494—and to
Egypt, V. 504; VIII. 492; X. 120—
his death and character, V. 505.
Aberdare canal, XVI. 7.
Aberdeen (Old), II. 27—university,
XXI. 515 ; XIX. 719, 765—library,
XIII. 304.
 (New), II. 27—dredging machine
at, VIII. 195, 197—college library,
XIII. 304—canal to Inverury, XVI.
7 — Marischal College, XXL 517;
XIX. 765—advocates, XIX. 760.
Aberdeenshire, II. 29, cattle of, 324-
fisheries of, IX. 601—vitrified fort in,
IX. 756.
Aberdour, a town in Fifeshire, II. 30.
Aberford, in Yorkshire, II. 30.
Abergavenny, II. 30—canal to Breck¬
nock, XVI. 9.
Abernethy (Rev. John), II. 30.
 a towm in Perthshire, II. 31.
Aberration of Light, II. 31, III. 774
—discovery of, 1.569; III.744.—Affords
another proof of the earth’s motion in
its orbit, I. 571.
   spherical, XVII. 669—of paral¬
lax, 670—chromatic, ib.—of lenses,
XVI. 395—of mirrors, 399.
Aberystwith, II. 35; VI. 137.
Abesta, II. 35.
Abethell (Mr), on ship-building, XX. 239.
Abettor, in law, II. 35.
Abex, a country of Africa, II. 35.
Abeyance, in law, II. 36.
Abgar, king of Edessa, II. 36.
Abgillus (John), II. 36. See Prester
John.
Abiad (Bahr el), river, II. 36, 239.
Abiaga, a town in Spain, II. 36.
Asians, or Abii, II. 36.
Abiathar, a Jewish high-priest, II. 36.
Abiaul, a town in Portugal, II. 36.
Abib, a Jewish month, II. 36.
Abies, the fir-tree. See Fir.
Abigeat, old law term, II. 36.
Abihu, a son of Aaron, II. 36.
Abikschan, a lake in Siberia, II. 36.
Abimelech, king of Gerar, II. 36.
• son of Gideon, II. 37.
Abingdon, a town in Berkshire, II. 37.
ABI—ABE,
Abingdon (Lord), on roval prerogative,
XVIII. 519.
Abintestate, in law, II. 37.
Abiponians, an American tribe, II. 37.
Abiram, a seditious Levite, II. 37.
Abishai, brother of Joab, II. 37.
Abjuration, II. 37.
Abla, a town in Spain, II. 37.
Ablach, a river in Germany, II. 37.
Ablacqueation, in gardening, II. 37.
Ablactation, in gardening, II. 37.
Ablanquejo, a river of Spain, II. 38.
Ablative, in grammar, II. 38 ; X. 643.
Ablay, in Tartary, II. 38.
Able (Thomas), II. 38.
Ablecti, Roman soldiers, II. 88.
Ablegmina, in antiquity, II. 38.
Ablitas, a town of Spain, II. 38.
Abloch, a river of Germany, II. 38.
Abluents, or diluents. See Diluents.
Ablution, II. 38.
Abner, father-in-law of Saul, II. 38.
Abnoba, German mountains, II. 38.
Abo, a city in Finland, II. 38 ; IV. 330.
Aboard, the inside of a ship, II. 39.
Abocro, a town in Africa, II. 39.
Abod, a town in Hungary, II. 39.
Abola, in Abyssinia, II. 39,
Abolition, in Roman law, II. 39.
Abolla, an ancient garment, II. 39.
Aeon, town in ancient Britain. II. 39.
Aboras, Mesopotamian river, II. 39.
Aborigines, II. 39.
Abortion, II. 39 ; XIV. 496—penal laws
against. III. 193—sanctioned by Aris¬
totle, III. 528—practised by the New
Hollanders, IV. 209—punishment of
attempts to procure, IV. 435.
Abortive vellum, II. 40.
Abou-duck’n, bird, XVI. 560.
Aboukir, a town in Egypt, II. 40-‘-battle
of, V. 485 ; VIII. 489, 491, 492 ; X.
120; XVI. 86.
Aboulfeda, Arabian historian, II. 40.
Aboutige, a town in Egypt, II. 41.
Abra, a Polish coin, II. 41.
Abrabanel (Isaac), rabbi, II. 41.
Abracadabra, II. 41.
Abraham, II. 41; XII. 567—legendary
tales concerning, XVII. 359.
 (Ben Chaila), rabbi, II. 41.
 (Usque), Portuguese Jew, II. 41.
—  (Nicholas), a Jesuit, II. 42i
  (Mr), his mode of curing the
polarity of steel watch-balances, VI.
800.
Abrahamites, monks, II. 42.
Abrahamsdorf, in Hungary, II. 42.
Abramis, fish, XII. 198.
Abranchia, worms, XI. 221.
Abrantes, a town of Portugal, II. 42.
Abrasax, II. 42.
Abrasion, II. 42.
Abraum, a kind of red clay, II. 42.
Abravannus, in Galloway, II. 42.
Abraxas, an antique stone, II. 42.
 an insect, IX. 250.
Abreast, a sea term, II. 42.
Abridgment, in literature, II. 42.
Abries, a town in France, II. 43.
Abrogation, II. 43.
Abrokani, a kind of muslin, II. 43.
Abrotonum, a town in Africa, II. 43.
Abrucen*, a town in Spain, II. 43.
Arrud-Banya, in Hungary, II. 43.
2
INDEX
ABR—ACA
Abrus, in botany, II. 43.
Abbuzzo, a province of Naples, II. 43.
Absalom, son of David, II. 44.
Abscess, II. 44; XVII. 127—surgical
treatment of, XX. 838—in the lower
animals, XXI. 61G.
Absciss, II. 44.
Absconsa, II. 44.
Absimarus, II. 44.
Absinthiated, II. 44.
Absinthium. See Wormwood.
Absolute, II. 44. See Despotism.
Absolution, II. 44.
Absokbent, II. 44.
 medicines, II. 44.
  vessels of the human body, II.
728—discovery of the, XVII. 728. See
Lymphatics.
  vessels in plants, III. 54, 68.
 substances. Sulphuric acid, VII.
63. Whinstone, 66. Oatmeal, ib.
Absorption, function of, II. 45—by
roots of plants, III. 88, 89 lacteal,
XVII. 581, 632—lymphatic, 582, 652.
Absorptions of the earth, II. 45.
Absorus, island, II. 45.
Abstemii in Church history, II. 45.
Abstergent medicines, II. 45.
Abstinence, II. 45—the young least ca¬
pable of, III. 167. Remarkable in¬
stances of, ib.
Abstinents, a sect of heretics, II. 46.
Abstract, II. 46.
Abstraction, faculty of, II. 46 ; XIV,
622 ; XVII. 433—essential to the geo¬
meter and metaphysician, I. 6.
Absurdum (reductio ad), II, 46.
Abstrtus, in mythology, II, 46.
Abterode, in Hesse-Cagsel, II. 46.
Abthanes, II, 46
Abu and Camdu, islands, II. 47.
Abu-Arisch, on the Red Sea, fl. 47.
Abubeker, caliph, II. 47 ; III. 342—the
Alcoran arranged by, II. 391.
Abucco, a weight used in Pegu, II. 47.
Abuchow, a village in Russia, II. 47.
Abu-el-Mansur, caliphs, VIII. 478.
Abukeso, II. 47,
Abukob, a Turkish town, IT. 47,
Abulahor, a Turkish town, H. 47.
Abulawo, a Russian town, II. 47.
Abulfragius (Gregory), II. 47.
Abulfazel, historian, II. 47 ; V. 705.
Abulfeda, Arabian historian, U. 10.
Abulfera, lake, XX. 516.
Abul-Hassan, his dials, VII. 759.
Abuna, II. 47.
Abundant Number, II. 47.
Abcndantia, a heathen deity, II. 48.
Abus, river, now the Humber, II. 48,
Abusaid (Ebn Aljaptu), sultan, II. 48.
Abusir, a town of Egypt, II. 48.
Abusumbol, a town of Nubia, II. 48,
Abu-teman, an Arabian poet, II. 48.
Abatement, equilibrium of, XIV. 395
—construction of, 399.
Abutilon, in botany, II. 48.
Abuzow, a town in Russia, II. 48.
Abydenus on the deluge, VII. 693.
Abydos, on the Hellespont, II. 48.
Abydus, or Abydos, in Egypt, II. 48—
antiquities at, VIII. 543—Tablet of,
ib. XI. 354.
Abyla, II. 48.
Abyss, II. 48.
Abyssinia, II. 49—Bruce’s travels in, V
606—heights of mountains of, XVII.
605.
Abyssinian alphabet, II. 549—months,
VI. 601—people, II. 225, 231.
Aca, Phoenician town, II. 64.
Acacaloti, bird, II. 64.
Acacia, II. 64, 65; XVII. 784—Juice
of, XII. 26,
Acacians, heretics, II. 65.
Acacius, persons so named, II. 65.
Acad, II. 65.
Academic sect of philosophers, II. 65 ;
XVII. 431 ; XVIII. 15.
Academies, II. 65—first establishment
of, in Italy, England, and France, I.
499—their influence in promoting the
fine arts, III. 656—Danish, VII. 73o
ACA—ACC
—of painting, XYJ, 714-16-23-25-27-
28.
Academy of Secrets, XIV. 284, Note 2.
Royal Irish, VIII. 246.
 in ancient Athens, IV. 126.
 , French. See French.
Acadie, a name of Nova Scotia, II. 80.
Acjena, a Greek measure, II, 80.
Acienitus, insect, IX. 222.
Acajutla, XI. 19.
Acalepluu, zoophytes, XXI. 1013—their
structure, XVII. 722.
Acalephes, zoophytes, XXI. 1017.
Acamantis, a name of Cyprus, II. 80.
Acamas, son of Theseus, II. 80.
Acangis, II. 80.
Acantha, II. 80.
Acanthacese, in botany, V. 124.
Acanthocephala, zoophytes, XXI. 997.
Acanthocinus, insect, IX. 180,
Acanthomera, insects, IX, 146.
Acanthophis, serpent, XX. 154.
Acanthopoda, insects, IX. 150.
Acanthoptera, insects, IX. 179.
Acanthopterygii, II. 80; XII. 166.
Acanthopus, insect, IX. 234.
Acanthoscelis, insect, IX. 119.
Acanthurus, fish, XII. 190.
Acanthus, in architecture, II. 80.
 —, Egyptian town, VIII. 545.
Acapala, a town in New Spain, II. 80.
Acapam, on the Euxine sea, II. 80.
Acapulco, II. 80 ; XIV. 814.
AcARAi,a town of Paraguay, II. 80.
Acarauna, fish, II. 81.
Acarnania, in Greece, II. 81.
Acaron, a town of Palestine, II. 81.
Acarus, genus of arachnides, III. 368.
Acastus, in classic history, JI, 81.
Acatalectic verses, II. 81,
Acatalepsy, II. 81,
Acatery, II. 81.
Acatharsia, II. 81.
Acathistus, hymn, II. 81.
Acatium, ancient boat, II. 81,
Acaulis, in botany, II. 81.
Acbar, IV. 731; XI. 410.
Acca (Saint), II. 81.
Accalla, Roman festivals, II. 81.
Accapitare, in law, II. 81.
Accapitum, II. 81.
Accedas ad Curiam, II. 81.
Acceleration, II. 81—of falling bodies,
ib,—of the fixed stars, planets, and
moon, 83—accelerated motions, VIII.
367—accelerating forces, 370.
Accendentes, II. 83.
Accendones, gladiators, II. 83.
Acce^si, II. 83.
Accension, II. 83.
Accent, II. 83—Greek accents, XVII.
405.
Accentor, bird, XVI. 576.
Acceptance, in commerce, II, 83.
Accepter, II. 86,
Acceptilation, II. 86.
Accession, in law, II. 86.
Accessory, II. 86—nerves, ib.
Acciaioli (Donato), II. 86.
Accident, II. 86, 87.
Accidental effects, II. 87—colours, ib.
—point, ib.
Accipiter, hawk, II. 87. See Hawk.
Accipitres, II. 87.
Accismus, II. 87.
Accius (Lucius), Latin poet, II. 87.
 , poet of the 16th century, II 87
Acclamation, II. 87.
Acclivity, II. 88.
Accola, II. 88.
Accolade, in chivalry, II. 88,
Accole'e, II. 89.
Accolti (Benedict and Francis), II. 89.
Accommodation, II. 89.
Accompaniment, in music, II. 89 ; XV.
644—in painting, &c., II. 89.
Accomplice, II. 89.
Accomplishment, II. 89.
Accord, in painting, II. 89.
Accorso (Francis), lawyer, II. 89.
  (Mariangelo), critic, II. 90.
Account, II. 90.
Account-current, IV. 790.
ACC—ACH
Account-sale, IV. 782.
Accountant, II. 90.
Accountant-General, II. 90,
Accretion, II. 90.
Accroche, in heraldry, II. 90.
Accusation, II. 90.
Accubitor, II. 90.
Accumulation, II. 90.
Accursed, II. 91.
Accusation, II. 91.
Accusative case, II. 91 X. 642.
Ace, II. 91.
Aceldama, II. 91; IV. 710.
Acentetum, rock crystal, II. 91.
Acephala, mollusca, XV. 365—structure
of, XVII. 719.
Acephali, JI. 91.
Acephalous, II. 91.
Acephalus, II. 92.
Acequara, a town of Naples, II. 92.
Acequaria, a town of Modena, II. 92.
Acequi, an Italian city, II. 92.
Acer, the maple tree. See Maple.
Acera, town in Spain, II. 92.
Acerb, II. 92.
Acerenza, a town of Naples, II. 92.
Acerina, fish, II. 92 ; XII. 169.
Acerinese, in botany, V. 102.
Acerno, a town of Italy, II. 92.
Acerra, II. 92.
Acescent, II. 92.
Acesines, a river in India, II. 92.
Acesius, bishop, II. 92.
Acetabulum, II. 92, 767, 789.
Acetary, II. 92.
Acetic acid, VI. 427.
 ether, VI. 440.
Acetosa, sorrel, II. 93.
Acetosella, II. 92.
Acetous, II. 92.
Acetum, vinegar. See Vinegar.
Ach*a, a town of Rhodes, II. 92.
Ach.s:ans, II. 92—army of the Achaean
league*, III. 588.
AcHjEmenes, II. 93,
Ach.eus, II. 93.
Aohafalaya, river, II. 93.
Achaia, II. 93.
Achaius, king of Scotland, II. 93.
Achalalactli, II. 93.
Achan, II. 93.
Achane, II. 93.
Acharaca, a town in Lydia, II. 93.
Achard (Mr), on the force of adhesion,
II. 151—on the influence of electri¬
city on putrefaction and fermentation,
VIII. 633—on capillary attraction,
XII. 45—his pyrometer, XVIII. 749
—his experiments on the elastic force
of steam, XX. 583.
 (C. F.),on bibliography, IV. 632.
Acharius (Dr) V. 79.
Achat, in law, II. 93.
Achates, II. 93.
Achatina, in conchology, XV. 346.
AcHAziB.a town of Galilee, II. 93.
Ac keen, in Sumatra, II. 93.
Achelous, II. 95.
Achenium, in botany, V. 48,
Achenwall (Gottfried), II. 95..
Aciier, a river of Baden, II. 95.
Acheri (Luke d’), II. 95.
Achern, a city of Baden, II. 96.
AcherneRj star, II. 96.
Acheron, II 96.
Acherset, tin ancient measure, II. 96.
Acherusia Palus, II. 96.
Achiar, II. 96.
Achicolcm, II. 96.
Achill Island, XIV. 338.
Achillea, II. 96.
Achilleid, a poem of Statius, II. 96.
Achilles, II. 96 ; character of, XVIII.
149—Tendo Achillis, II. 96.
Achii,lini (Alex.), II. 96—his anatomi.
cal discoveries, 693.
Achiotte, a drug, II. 96.
Achiropoetos, II. 96.
Achirus, fish, XII. 221.
Achius, in zoology, XIV. 142.
Achmet, an Arabian author, II. 96.
Achmet I., II., III., emperors, II. 96,
97 ; XXL 412, 413.
ACH—ACQ
Achmet Geduc, Turkish general, II. 97.
 — Pacha, IV. 772.
Achmetschet, in the Crimea, II. 97.
Achmim, a town in Egypt, II. 97.
Achonry, a town in Sligo, II. 97.
Achor, II. 97.
Achromatic, II. 79—telescopes, ib.;
XVI. 362—construction of a triple
achromatic object-glass, XXI. 158.
Achteling, German measure, II. 105.
Achtyrka, a Russian city, II. 105.
Achyr, a Russian town, II. 105.
Achzib, a town of Galilee, II. 93.
Aci, II. 105.
Acicanthera, II. 105.
Acicul*, II. 105.
Acidalius (Valens), critic, II. 105.
Acidalus, II. 105.
Acidity. II. 105.
Acidoton, II. 105.
Acids,II. 105; VI. 425—vegetable, 450
—mineral, XV. 137—their alimentary
qualities, VIII. 24—their specific gra¬
vity, XII. 26.
Acid ethers, VI. 439—poisons, XIV. 503;
XVIII. 176.
AciduljE, II. 105.
Acidulated, II. 105.
Acidulous, II. 105.
Acidum aereum, II. 105.
 pingue, II. 105.
Acilius Glabrio (Marcus), II. 106.
Acilius, insect, IX. 135.
Acinodendrum, II. 106.
Acinos, in botany, II. 106.
Acinus or Acini, II. 106, 749,
Acipenser, fish, XII. 230.
Acts, river, II. 106—its source, 202
 -, in mythology, II. 106.
Ackerblad on Coptic, XI. 315.
Ackermann (John C. G.), II. 106.
Acknowledgment, II. 106.
Aclides, a Roman weapon, II. 106.
Aclowa, in botany, II. 106.
Aelysia, genus of Arachnides, II. 369.
Acme, II. 106.
Acmelia, II. 106.
Acmite, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Acnida, II. 106.
Acnua, II. 106.
Aco, a town of Peru, II. 106.
Acoemetj®, II. 106,
Acoluthi, II. 106.
Acoluthus on Coptic, XI. 313.
Acolutte (Mr), on a flight of ants at
Breslau, III. 243.
Acolythia, II. 107.
Acominatus (Nicetas), II. 107.
Aconcagua river, VI. 523.
Aconcroba, a plant, II. 107.
Aconiti, II. 107.
Aconitum, II. 107.
Acontias, serpent, II. 107 ; XX. 123.
Aconticm, a Greek dart, II. 107.
Acontics of Cea, II. 107,
 (James), II. 107.
Acorn, II. 107.
Acorus, II. 107.
Acosta (Christopher), VII. 383.
 (Joseph d’), II. 107.
 (Uriel), II. 108.
Acostan, island, II. 109.
Aeotyledones, in botany, V. 90, 138.
Acotyledons, III. 72
Acotyledonous plants, V. 53,
A’Court (Sir William), V. 552.
Acousmatici, II. 109.
Acoustic, II. 109—disciples, ib.—ducts,
ib.—vessels, ib.
Acoustics, II. 109—theory of vibra¬
tions, I. 612—principles on which
music is founded, ib.—different de¬
grees of sensibility possessed by the
organs of seeing and hearing, ib.—echo,
VIII. 396—propagation of sound in
the air, XX. 482—results of various
experiments on the velocity of sound,
ib.—speaking trumpet, XXI. 390—
Hearing trumpet, 398. See Echo,
Hearing, Music, Sound, Trumpet.
Acqs, a town in France, II. 124.
, Acquapendente, a town in Italy, II.
124
INDEX,
3
ACQ—ACT
Acquabia, a town in Italy, II. 125.
Acquest, in law, II. 125.
Acqui, a province and town in Italy, II.
125.
Acquisition, II. 125.
Acquisitiveness, XVII. 463.
Acquittance, II, 125.
Acea, II. 125,
Acrsea, insects, IX. 241.
Acbagas, or Agrigentum ; which see.
Ackasia, II. 125.
Ache, a town in Palestine, II. 125;
XVI. 744—taken by Saladin VIII.,
482—retaken by the Crusaders, ib.;
XVI. 757 — defence of, against the
Mamlouks, 759—Bonaparte’s siege of,
V. 489; VIII. 490; X. 112; XVI.
759—taken by Mehemet All, XXI. 64.
 , or lack, in Hindustan, II. 126.
 , land-measure, II. 126.
Acke-fight, II. 126.
Ackibeia, II. 127.
Acridophagi, or locust-eaters, II. 127.
Ackisius, II. 128.
Acrita, IX. 94.
Acbitas, II. 128.
Ackuamatic, II. 128.
Acroamatici, II. 128.
Acroatic lectures of Aristotle, II. 128.
Acrobates, rope-dancers, II. 128.
Acrobatica, II. 128.
Acroeera, insects, IX. 270.
Acroceraunia, II. 128.
Acrocherismus, II. 128.
Acrochordus, serpent, XX. 146.
Acrocinus, insect, IX. 179.
Acrocorinthus, II. 128.
Acrological hieroglyphics, XI. 362.
Acromion, in anatomy, II. 128.
Acromonogbammaticgm, II. 138.
Acron, a physician, II. 128—African
kingdom, ib.
Acronical, II. 128.
Acropolis of Athens, II. 128 ; IV. 120.
See Athens.
Acropolita (Geo.), II. 128.
Acrospire,!!. 129; V. 235—Acrospired,
II. 129.
Acrostic, II. 129.
Acrostichum, II. 129.
Acrostolium, II. 129.
Acroteleutic, II. 129.
Acroteria, in architecture, II. 129; III.
464.
Acrothymion, II. 129.
Acrydium, insect, IX. 193.
Act, II. 129—of faith, ib.—in the dra¬
ma, ib.
Acts of Parliament, II. 130—form of
passing, IV. 640—defectively framed
in England, XIII. 169.
Acts of the Apostles, II. 130.
Acts of Pilate, II. 131.
Acta Consistorii— Diurna —Populi —
Senatus, II. 130.
Act*, II. 131.
Act*a, II. 131.
Action, II. 131.
Actian games, II. 131.
Actiar, bay of, IV. 661.
Actinia, II. 131—structure of, XVII.
722.
Actiniadae, zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Actinolite, XV- 154—specific gravity of,
XII. 26.
Actinometer, XXI. 241.
Actio, in Roman antiquities, II. 131.
Action, II. 131—in commerce, &c., 132.
  in mechanics, II, 132—always
equal and opposite to leaction, XVII.
569. See Dynamics.
Actionary, II. 132.
Actium, II. 132—era of, VI. 660—battle
of, XIX. 399.
Actius, II. 132.
Active, II. 132—verbs, ib.
Activity, II. 132—love of, VIII. 55.
Acton, a village in Middlesex, II. 132.
Actor, in fabulous history, II. 133.
Actora, insect, IX. 288.
Actors, II. 133—their rank in Greece,
VIII. 148, 152—in Rome, 152—their
fate in England during the Civil Wars,
ACT—ADD
170-1—effect of the monopoly of the
London theatres on, 179.
Actorum tabgl*, II. 133.
Actresses, their first introduction on the
English stage, VIII. 171—their cha¬
racter in reign of Charles II. 172.
Actual, II. 133.
Actuari* naves, II. 133.
Actuarius, a Greek surgeon, II. 133—
XX. 825.
 , officer so entitled, II. 133.
Actuate, II. 133.
Actus, II. 133.
Actynolite, mineral, XV. 154 ; XII. 26.
Acuanites, II. 133.
Aculeata, insects, IX. 227.
Aculeate, II. 133.
Aculei, II. 133.
Aculer, II. 133.
Aculeu, lake, VI. 524.
Acumina, II. 133.
Acuna (Christopher d’), a Spanish Je¬
suit, II. 133.
Acupuncture, II. 133.
Acus, II. 133.
Acute, II. 134—angle, &e., ib.—har¬
monics, II. 122.
Acutiator, II. 134.
Ad, II. 134. Ad bestias—hominem—
ludos—metalla—valorem, ib.
Adage, II. 134.
Adagio, II. 134.
Adalia, XIX. 652.
Adalides, II. 134.
Adam, II. 134—his original state, XXI.
211.
  (Dr Alex.), II. 135—an error
of his about codicils, VI. 709—Dr
Stuart’s attack on his Latin Grammar,
XX. 781.
 (Melchior), II. 137.
 (Robert), II. 137—his architec¬
tural works, III. 430.
Adam’s Apple, Bridge, and Peak, II. 138.
Adamant, II. 138. See Diamond.
Adamantine spar, in mineralogy, XV.
155.
Adamic earth, II. 138.
Adami pomum, II. 138.
Adamites, II. 138.
Adams, a township in Massachusetts, II.
139.
 (Daniel), V. 474.
 (John), an American statesman,
II. 139.
 (Mr), on pericarditis, XVII. 483.
Adamshipe, II. 140.
Adamson (Patrick), II. 140.
Adamus, II. 141.
Adana, II. 141.
Adanson (Michael), II. 141—his bota¬
nical labours, V. 90—on conchology,
XV. 331.
Adansonia, II. 143.
Adar, a Hebrew month, II. 143.
Adarce, II. 143.
Adarcon, II. 143.
Adarme, II. 143,
Adatais, II. 143,
Adcordabiles Denarij, II. 144.
Adcrescentes, II. 144.
Adda, river, II. 144.
Addephagia, II. 144.
Adder, II. 144.
Addextratores, II. 144.
Addice, II. 144.
Addicti, II. 144.
Addiction, II. 144.
Addictio in diem, II. 144.
Addington (Henry), V. 455—his ad¬
ministration, V. 497—his alteration
of the sinking fund, X. 245.
Addison (Lancelot), II. 144
  (Joseph), II. 144—his opinion
of the works of Hobbes, I. 42—his
censure of the French writers of his
age, 55—his reputation as a philoso¬
pher has suffered by the beauty and
clearness of his style, 83—value of his
essays in widening the circle of men¬
tal cultivation, 160-1—his papers on
the pleasures of imagination, 161—
Reasons for his being thought super-
ADD—ADJ
ficial, ib.—Quotation from, concern¬
ing ideas, with Dr Blair’s remarks
thereon, 272—precision of his views
relative to colours, 273—his definition
of “fine writing,” 162—merits of his
style and writings, ib.—his argument
for the immortality of the soul, ib.
—on the care with which Nature
disseminates her blessings, 163—on
dreams, III, 307, note; VIII. 188,191
—on beauty, IV. 485—his connexion
with Budgell, V. 638—his dialogue,
VIII. 2—on pleasure from descrip¬
tions of distress, VIII. 54—absurdities
in his “ Cato” from the preservation
of the unity of place, VIII. 161—cha¬
racter of that play, 174—his want of
poetic genius, XX. 170—his poetry,
XVIII. 172—his quarrel with Pope,
XVIII. 403—on wit, XXL 905.
  (Thos.) on navigation, XV. 749
Additament, II. 147.
Addition, in law, distilling, and he¬
raldry, II. 147—in algebra, 428, 432
—in arithmetic, III. 543—of vulgar
fractions, III. 558—of decimals, 560,
562, 563—of estate, degree, and place,
II. 147.
Address, II. 147.
Adducent muscles, II. 147.
Adeb, an Egyptian weight, II. 147.
Adel, a kingdom in Africa, 11. 147.
Adela, insect, IX. 253.
Adelaide (Port), settlement at, XXI. 722.
Adelfors, a town in Sweden, II. 148.
Adelium, insect, IX. 166.
ADELSfE, bishop of Sherburn, II. 148.
Adelnau, a circle in Prussia, II. 148.
Addon, hjs classification of animal func¬
tions, XVII. 590.
Adelphiani, II. 148.
Adelscalc, II. 148.
Adelsheim, II. 148.
Adelso, II. 148.
Adelung (John C.) II. 148—on the af¬
finities of language, XIII. 72, et seq.
Ademption, II. 150.
Aden,an Arabian city, II, 150 ; III. 841.
Adenanthera, II. 150.
Adenau, a circle in Prussia, II. 150.
Adenburg, II. 150.
Adenography, II. 150.
Adenoides, II. 150.
Adenology, II. 150.
Adenos, II. 150.
Adeona, II. 150.
Adephaga, insects, IX. 111.
Adephagia, II. 150.
Adeps, fat, II. 150.
Adepts, II. 150.
Aderbijan. See Adirbeitsan, II. 152.
Aderno, a Sicilian city, II. 151,
Ades, or Hades, II. 151.
Adessenarians, II. 151,
Adfjljation, II. 151.
Adha, II. 151.
Adherbal, XVI. 305.
Adhesion, II. 151.
Adhesiveness, phrenological faculty of,
XVII. 462.
Adhil, II. 152.
Adiantum, II. 152.
Adiaphorists, II. 152.
Adie (Alex.), his sympiesometer, IV.
394.
  (Alex. J.), on expansion of stone,
XI. 188—his pyrometer, XVIII. 7^8.
 (John), his hygrometer, XII. 124.
 (R.),his anemometer, XVII. 539.
Adige, river, II. 152; XTL 485 ; X)!!.
469.
Adipocere, II. 152.
Adipose tissue of (he human body, II.
152, 715 ; XVII. 597.
Adirbeitsan, a province of Persia, II.
152.
Adit, II. 152.
Adjazzo, a Corsican town, II. 152,
Adjectives, II. 152; X. 667—compari¬
son of, 669, 684.
Adjournment, II. 152.
Adjudication, in Scottish law, H. 152.
Adjunct, II. 152.
ADJ—ADY
Adjutant, II. 153—Adjutant-General,
ib.; III. 618.
 , bird, XVI. 619.
Adjutorium, II. 153.
Adle-eggs, II. 153.
Adlegation, II. 153.
Adler, on Coptic, XI. 315.
Adlocution, II. 153.
Admanuenses, II. 153.
Admetus, IX. 312.
Adminicle, II. 153.
Adminiculator, II. 153.
Administration, II. 153.
Administrator, II. 153.
Admirabilis sal, II. 153.
Admiral, II. 153 ; XVI. 51—promotion
to the rank of, V. 447—Turkish, XXI.
422.
Admiralty, High Court of, II. 156—
Scotch court of, XIX. 757 ; XIV. 248.
—; office, London, XIII. 543.
 signals, XXI. 137.
 Bay, II. 159—Inlet, ib.—Islands,
ib.; IV. 212.
Admonition, II. 159.
Admont, an Austrian town, II. 159.
Adnata, II. 159.
Adnoun, II. 159.
Adolecera, insects, IX. 140.
Adolescence, II. 159 ; XIV. 206, 495.
Adollam, II. 159.
Adolphus Frederick, king of Sweden,
XXL 26.
Adolphus (Gustavus). See Gustavus.
Adom, an African state, II. 159.
Adon, a village in Hungary, II. 159.
Adonai, II. 159.
Adonia, feasts in honour of Venus, II.
159.
Adonides. II. 159.
Adonis, II. 159 ; XV. 684.
Adonists, II. 160.
Adoptiani, a sect of heretics, II. 160.
Adoption, II. 160,
Adoptive, II. 161.
Adoration, II. 161.
Adorea, II. 162.
Adorium, insect, IX. 184.
Adosculation, II. 162.
Adossee, in heraldry, II. 162.
Adouan, Arabian tribe, III. 330.
Adour, river, II. 162—navigation of,
XVI. 7.
Adowa, an Abyssinian town, II, 162, 55.
Adoxa, in botany, II. 162.
Adra, a seaport in Spam, II. 162.
Adrachne, in botany, II. 162.
Adrammelech, II. 162.
Adramyttium, II. 162.
Adrastea, II. 162.
Adrastus, il. 162 ; VII. 474.
Adrazzo, II. 162.
Adria, a city of Italy, II. 162,
Adrian, or Hadrian, Roman Emperor,
1I.*162. See Hadrian.
— , Popes so named. II. 163-4.
 — (Cardinal), II. 165 ; XX. 501.
Adriani (Joanni Battista), II. 165.
Adrianists, a sect of heretics, II. 165.
Adrianople, a city in Turkey, II. 165.
Adrianum, or Adriaticum Mare, II. 165.
Adripalda, a Neapolitan city, II. 165.
Adrogation, in Roman antiquities, II.
165.
Adsidella, II. 165.
Adstriction, II. 165.
Adula, a mountain in Rhaetia, II. 166.
Adule, or Adulis, Egyptian town, II.
166, 50, 51.
Adult, II. 166.
Adulteration, II. 166—of coin, ib.—of
food, XIV. 508.
Adulterine, in the civil law, II. 166.
Adultery, II. 166—its punishment in
China, VI. 558.
Advanced ditch, II. 165—guard, ib.
Advent, in the calendar, II. 165.
Ad ventrem inspiciendum, II. 165.
Adventure Bay, II. 165.
Adventurers, II. 166.
Adverbs, II. 166; X. 669, 684.
Adversaria, II. 166.
Adversative, II. 166.
4
INDEX
ADV—-ZEPI
Adversator, II. 166.
Advertisement, II. 166.
Advocates, II. 167-8—English, YII.
430—Scotch, VIII. 419 $ XIX. 760;
IV. 408—their library in Edinburgh,
VIII. 419; XIII. 300.
Advocate (Lord), in Scotland, II. 168 ;
XII. 724.
Advocation, a process in Scottish law,
II. 168.
Advowee, II. 168.
Advowson, II. 169 ; VIII. 789.
Ady, a kind of palm-tree, II. 169.
Adynamia, II. 169.
Adynamon, II. 169.
Adytum, II. 169.
Adze, II. 169.
Ae, or iE, diphthong, II. 169.
zEacea, II. 169.
Abacus, II. 169.
JEbudie, II. 170.
iECHMOLOTARCHA, II. 170.
jEdes, II. 170—insect, IX. 259.
jEdicula, II. 170.
ASdiee, Roman magistrate, II. 170.
A5DII.ITIUM ED1CTUM, II. 170.
.Edituus, II. 170.
A2gades, islands, II. 170.
AiGAGROPILA, II. 170.
ASgean sea, II. 170.
A2geus, king of Attica, II. 170 ; IV. 143.
A?gialia, insects, IX. 154.
AJgias, II. 170.
AIgida, a town of Istria, II. 170.
JEgieops, II. 170.
AEgimurus, an island near Car+,'age, II.
171.
A5gina, II. 171—coins of, XIV. 469.
jEgineta (Paulus), surgeon, II. 171.
AJginhard, secretary of Charlemagne,
II. 171.
ASgipan, II. 171.
AiGIPHILA, II. 171.
Alois, in ancient mythology, II. 171.
ASgisthus, II. 172.
ASgium, II. 172.
AEgobolium, II. 172.
Algocera, insects, IX. 244.
ASgopodium, II. 172.
AIgospotamos, river, II. 172—battle of,
. IV. 160.
ASgyptiacum, II. 172.
AIgyptilla, II. 172.
AIgyptus, II. 172.
Aeinaut*, II. 172.
AIlfric, II. 172.
ASlia Capitolina, II. 172 XII. 576;
XIX. 408.
jElian (Claudius), II. 173—his Natural
History, XIV. 75—Gesner’s edition of
his works, X. 492.
Allius Gallus, his expedition into Arabia,
III. 341.
Aeltere, a Flemish town, II. 172.
AIluhcs, an Egyptian deity, II. 172.
AIm, a German liquid measure, II. 172.
A5milius (Paulus), II. 172 ; VI. 198.
jEmobolicm, II. 173.
ASmod.*, II. 173.
A5neas,II. 173—character of,XVIII. 149.
 Sylvius (Pope). See Pius II.
jEneatores, II. 173.
ASneid, Virgil’s, II. 173. See Virgil.
Aenezes, Arabian tribes, III. 330.
AEngia, island, II. 173.
AEnigma, II. 173.
AiNIGMATOGRAPHY, II. 173.
ASnithologius, II. 173.
ASnos, mount, XII. 341.
AIolue Insulae, II. 173.
.Eolian harp, XV. 613.
jEolic dialect, II. 173; XVII. 404, 408
—digamma, II. 173—verse, 174.
JEolipile, in hydraulics, II. 174.
AEolis, or ASolia, II. 174.
ASolus, god of the winds, II. 174.
A5on, II. 174.
ASoba, a kind of exercise, II. 174.
A2pinus (F. U. T.), II. 174—his theory
of the principle upon which depend
the phenomena of electricity and mag¬
netism, I. 627—on electricity, VIII.
671-2—the inventor of electrical con-
JEPI—AFF
densers, 651—on magnetism, XIII.
689, 706, 773—his artificial magnets,
757.
A3QUIMELTCM, II. 176.
A2ra, in chronology, II. 176. See Era.
AIrarium, II. 176.
AJrarius, II. 176.
Aeria, the ancient name of Egypt, II.
176.
Adrians, heretics, II. 176.
ASris (Flos), II. 176.
Aernen, a Swiss town, II. 176.
Aerography, II. 176.
Aerolite, II. 176. See Meteoric Stones.
Aeromancy, II. 176 ; VIII. 58.
Aerometry, II. 176.
Aeron, river, VI. 137.
Aeronautioa, II. 176.
Aeronautics, II. 177. See Balloon.
Aerophylacea, II. 176.
Aerschot, a city in the Netherlands, II.
196.
ASruginous, II. 196.
ASrugo, rust of copper, II. 196.
ASruscatores, ancient strolling beggars,
II. 196.
Aerzeele, a town of West Flanders, II.
196.
Aerzen, in Hanover, II. 196.
Als uxorium, II. 196—iEs per et libram,
ib.
A5salus, insect, IX. 162.
ASschines, an Athenian philosopher, II.
196.
 , orator, II. 196—his oratory,
XIX. 216.
ASschinite, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
ASschrion, VI. 189.
AIschylus, II. 196; XX. 448—his im¬
provements of the Greek drama, VIII.
144—effects of the performance of his
tragedy the Eumenides, 146—charac¬
ter of his works, 148—Stanley’s edi¬
tion of them, XX. 562.
Aesculapius, II. 197—his surgical skill,
XX. 820.
AEshna, insect, IX. 210.
AEsop, the Phrygian, II. 197—his Fables,
XXL 443.
 (Clodius), Roman actor, II. 198.
AEsthiology, comparative, III. 21.
AEstii, X. 473.
AEstimatio capitis, II. 198.
AEstival, II. 198.
AEstuaria—Actuaries—AEstuary, II.
198.
AEsymnium, II. 198.
Aeth, II. 198; IV. 113.
AEthalia, the ancient name of Elba, II.
198.
AEthelmare, II. 365.
AEthelstan. See Athelstan.
AEther, II. 198 ; IV. 384, 389.
AEthereal, II. 199.
AEthiopia, II. 199. See Ethiopia.
AEthrioscope, VI. 761; VII. 752; XIV.
740 ; XVII. 537—its importance, VI.
763.
AEtian, Roman general, XIX. 422.
Aetians, heretics, II. 199.
AEtides, or eagle-stone, II. 199.
AEtiology, II. 199 ; XIV. 522.
Aetion, Greek painter, II. 199.
Aetius, the Arian, II. 199.
• , physician, II. 199—on the medi¬
cal qualities of the magnet, XIV. 2—
on surgery, XX. 824.
 , governor of Gaul, II. 199.
AEtna, II. 199; XV. 701—exportation
of snow' from, VII. 59—geological phe¬
nomena on, VII. 454—eruptions of,
XVII. 513.
AEtolarcha, II. 208.
AEtolia, II. 208.
Afer (Domitius), Roman orator, II. 209.
Affa, an African weight, II. 209.
Affection, II. 209—cultivation of the
domestic affections, III. 261—effects
of custom on, VII. 558.
Afferers, II. 209.
Affettuoso, II. 209.
Affiance, II. 209.
Affidavit, II. 210.
AFF—AGE
Affiliation, XIV. 494.
Affinity, a relation contracted by mar¬
riage, II. 210.
 , chemical, VI. 356—vital or or¬
ganic, XVII. 137, 593, 595, 652.
   of languages, XIII. 70; XVII.
354, et seq. ; XV. 599.
Affirmation, II. 210.
Affirmative, II. 210.
Affix, II. 210.
Afflatus, II. 210.
Afforesting, II. 210.
Affray, II. 210.
Affrontee, in heraldry, II. 210.
Affusion, II. 210.
Afgans, their war with the Mahrattas,
XI. 412.
Afghanistan, II. 210.
Afragola, a Neapolitan town, II. 219.
Afranius (Lucius), a Latin poet, II.
219.
Africa, II. 219—America probably in
part peopled from, 634—ants in, III.
241—Clapperton’s discoveries in, VI.
723—complexions of the natives of,
VII. 190—cotton manufacture in, 406
—love of dancing in, 613—trade with
England, VIII. 779, 781—insects of,
IX. 99—ancient circumnavigations of,
X. 389—unexplored regions in, 402—
languages of, XIII. 92 ; XVII. 423—
variation of the needle in, XIII. 734,
736, 738—heights of mountains of,
XVII. 505, 556—volcanoes of, 512—
parched winds, 541—animals, 551—
course of rivers, XIX. 252—serpents
of, XX. 133, 135—slave-trade, 383—
timber, XXI. 295—map of, II. Plates
3 and 4. See Niger, &c.
African Association, II. 221.
African Company, VII. 182.
African Institution, II. 239 ; XX.
387.
Africanus (Julius), historian, II. 240.
 (Scipio). See Scipio.
Afslagers, II. 240.
Aft, a sea term, II. 240.
Aftermath, II. 240.
Afternoon, II. 240.
Afwestad, copper-work in Sweden, If.
240.
Afzelius, botanist, V. 79, 81.
Aga, II. 240.
Agadeer, in Morocco, XV. 508.
Agades, a kingdom in Africa, II. 240.
Agalmata, II. 240.
Agalmatolite, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Agamse, reptiles, XIX. 143.
Agamemnon, II. 240 — character of,
XVIII. 150.
Agamians, reptiles, XIX. 142.
Agamous plants, V. 53.
Agan, island, II. 240.
Aganippe, II. 240.
Aganippides, II. 240.
Agape, love-feast, II. 240.
Agapet*, II. 240.
Agard (Arthur), antiquary, II. 240.
Agaric mineral, II. 240.
Agaricoidese, reproductive organs of, V.
57.
Agarista, insects, IX. 243.
Agaro, an island of Sweden, II. 241.
Agassiz, on the Echinides, XXI. 1006—
his classification of them, 1008.
Agate, II. 241—its distinction from cal-
cedony, V. 786—specific gravity of,
XII. 26.
Agatha (St), an Austrian town, II. 242.
 (Santa), II. 242.
Agathias, II. 242.
Agathidium, insect, IX. 185.
Agathis, insect, IX. 222.
Agatho, a Greek poet, II. 242.
Agathocles, II. 242; XXI. 57—his wars
with the Carthaginians, VI. 187-9.
Agathodsemon, Egyptiandeity, VIII. 551.
Aoathyrna, Sicilian town, II. 242.
Agbarus, his alleged message to Jesus,
XII. 561.
Aode, a French city, II. 242.
Age, II. 242—of the antediluvians, III.
246.
AGE—AGR
Agelnoth, archbishop of Canterbury,
II. 243.
Acema, II. 243.
Agemoglians, II. 243.
Agen, in France, II. 243.
Agenda, II. 243.
Ageneiosi, fish, XII. 202.
Agenhine, II. 243.
Agenois, in France, II. 243.
Agenoria, II. 244.
Agent, II. 244.
Agentes in rebus, II. 244.
Acer, II. 244—Ager Picenus, ib.
Agesilaus, II. 244; XX. 527 ; XXI. 1
195-6.
AGGA,in Guinea, II. 244.
Agger, an ancient fortification, II, 244.
Aggerhuus, a province of Norway, II.
244.
Aggers-herred, in Norway, II. 244.
Agglutinants, II. 244.
Aggregation, II. 245.
Agher, an Irish town, II. 245.
Aghrim, II. 245—battle of, XII. 378.
Agility, II. 245.
Agincourt, a village of the French Ne¬
therlands, II. 245—battle of, ib.; VIII.
733 ; X. 22.
Agincourt on the history of art, XVI.
705.
Agio, in commerce, II. 245.
Agiosymandrum, II. 245.
Agis, king of Sparta, II. 245 ; IV. 157,
et seq.; XX. 527.
Agistment, in law, II. 246.
Agistor, II. 246.
Agitation, II. 246.
Agitator, II. 246.
Aglaia, II. 246.
Aglaope, insect, IX. 244.
Aglar, an Austrian city, II. 246.
Aglaura, worm, XI. 220.
Aglia, insect, IX. 246.
Aglionby (John), II. 247.
Aglossa, insects, IX. 252.
Agmen, II. 247.
Agmondesham, II 654.
Agnate, in law, II. 247.
Agnel, old French coin, II. 247.
Agnes (St), a village in Cornwall, II. 24 7.
Agnesi (Maria Gaetana), II. 247 ; IX.
638.
Agno, a river of Naples, II. 248.
Agnoet.®, heretics, II. 248.
Agnomen, II. 248.
Agnone, a Neapolitan city, II. 248.
Agnus Dei, II. 248.
Agoge, II. 248.
Agon, II. 248.
Agonales, II. 249.
Agonalia, II. 249.
Agonalis Circus, II. 249.
Agonisma, II. 249.
Agonistarcha, II. 249.
Agonistici, II. 249.
Agonium, II. 249.
Agonum, insect, IX. 128.
Agonotheta, II. 249.
Agonyclit®, II. 249.
Agora, in ancient Athens, IV. 116.
Agor®us, II. 249.
Agoranomus, II. 248.
Agordo, an Austrian town, II. 249.
Agostino de Musis, IX. 45.
Agoutis, one of the mammalia, XIV. 141.
Agows, a people of Abyssinia, II. 63.
Agra, a province of Hindostan, II. 249
—mausoleum of, XI. 408.
Agree, mysteries celebrated at, XV. 668.
Agram, in Croatia, II. 250.
Agramont, a Spanish town, II. 250.
Agrarian laws, Roman, II. 250 ; VI.
691; XIX. 371, 391—Jewish, XV. 566.
Agraulium, in ancient Athens, IV. 118.
Agreda, a Spanish town, II. 250.
Agria, a town in Hungary, II. 250.
Agricola (Cneeus Julius), II. 250—his
conquests in Britain, V. 299 ; XIX,
405, 406, 695.
  (George), a German physician,
II. 251.
 (John), founder of tho Antino-
mians, II. 251; III. 251.
INDEX,
5
AGR
Agricuiture, II. 251—extraordinary de¬
mand for books relative to, in the reign
of James I., I. 39—implements and
machinery of, II. 265, 349—culture of
the willow, IV. 429—establishment of
the Board of, V. 470 — agricultural
distress of 1821, V. 554 ; of 1823, 557
—deficient crops of 1826, V. 568—its
importance to colonies, VI. 62—effects
of the cotton manufacture on, VII.
413—improved by the Crusades, VII.
494—connexion between its state and
the extent of taxes, VIII. 767—mode
of destroying the weevil, IX. 175—
castration and fattening of animals,
IX. 721—fattening of fowls, 723—is a
healthful occupation, XIV. 510—ori¬
gin of, XVII. 563—employment of ca¬
pital in, XVIII. 282—distinction be¬
tween agricultural and manufacturing
industry, 293—steam-apparatus for
cooking the food of cattle and horses,
XX. 609-10—subsoil-ploughing, XX.
731—taxes on rent, XXI. 103 ; on
produce, 112 — tithes, 113 — timber,
XXI. 29-2—turnip-fly, 602.—See Corn-
laws, Cottage System, Dairy, Drain¬
ing, Irrigation, Veterinary Science,
Wheat, &c.—Agriculture in Afgha¬
nistan, II. 217—Aberdeenshire, 29
—Abyssinia, 61—Antrim, III. 275
—Arragon, 373—Argyleshire, 483—
Armagh, 572—Asia, 680—Austria and
Hungary, IV. 223, 230, 232—Ayr¬
shire, 259—Banffshire, 344—Bedford¬
shire, 516—Bengal, 565, 566—Berk¬
shire, 586—Berwickshire, 598—Brazil,
V. 206—Breconshire, 225—Bucking¬
hamshire, 634—Buenos Ayres, 645—
Caermarthenshire, V. 771—Caernar¬
vonshire, 773—Caithness, 781—Cam¬
bridgeshire, VI. 33 — Cardiganshire,
137—Carinthia, 142—Carlow, 143—
Cavan, 256—Cheshire, 510—Chili, 530
--China, 579—Clackmannanshire, 720
—Clare, 726—Cork, VII. 331—Corn¬
wall, 367 — Cumberland, 536 — Den¬
bighshire, 717—Denmark, 726—De¬
vonshire, 746—Donegal, VIII. 113—
Dorsetshire, 120—Down, 133—Dub¬
lin, 235—Dumbartonshire, 259—Dum¬
friesshire, 261—Durham, 290—Edin¬
burghshire, 430—England, 764—Es¬
sex, IX. 369—Fermanagh, 517—Fife,
544 — Flanders, XVI. 142 — Forfar¬
shire, IX. 745—France, X. 173—Gal¬
way, 305—Germany, 484, 488—Gla¬
morganshire, 531 — Gloucestershire,
586—Greece, 725—Haddingtonshire,
XI. 103—Hampshire, 128—Hanover,
137—Herefordshire, 273—Hertford¬
shire, 284—Hindostan, 379—Hunt¬
ingdonshire, 758—Ireland, XII. 406—
Italy, 488, 470—Japan, 510—Kincar¬
dineshire, 722—Kinross-shire, 730—
Kirkcudbrightshire, 7 35—Kildare, 712
—Kilkenny, 715—Lanarkshire, XIII.
50—Lapland, 107—Leicestershire, 209
—Leitrim, 223—Limerick, 349—Lin¬
colnshire, 352—Lombardy, 470, 480—
the vicinity of London, 506—London¬
derry, 551—Longford, 556—Louth,575
—Madagascar, XIII. 666—Malta, XIV.
64—Isle of Man, 213—Meath, XIV. 346
—Mexico, 799—Monaghan, XV. 380—
Moray, 491—Navarre, 744—New South
Wales, XXI. 716—New York, XVI.
185—Norfolk, 244 5 XI. 764—Nor¬
thumberland, XVI. 254—Norway, 265
—Nova Scotia, 267—Odessa, 322—
Ohio, 327 —Orkney, 541—Oxfordshire,
686 — Pembrokeshire, XVII. 183—
Perthshire, 290—Poland, XVIII. 212—
Portugal, *79—Prussia, 691—Queen’s
County, 787—Radnorshire, XIX. 11—
Renfrewshire, 120—Rome, 434—Ros¬
common, 479—Ross shire, 484, 486—
Roxburghshire, 512—Russia, 568, 575
—Rutlandshire, 592—Shropshire, 622
—Savoy, 649—Sardinia, 650—Saxony,
670—Scotland, 752 ; XI. 764—Selkirk¬
shire, XX. 85—Seville, 163—Siberia,
325—Sligo, 393—Somersetshire, 475—
AGR—AIL
Spain, 518—Staffordshire, 559—Stir¬
lingshire, 730—Suffolk, 789—Sussex,
XXI. 9—Sutherland, 11—Sweden, 31
—Switzerland, 48—Tennessee, 182—
Isle of Thanet, 190—Tipperary, 314—
Tuscany, 432—Tyrone, 440—United
States, 463; II. 646—Virginia, XXI.
658—Waterford, 811—Westmeath, 862
—Wexford, 867—Worcestershire, 939
—Wicklow, XXI. 880—Isle of Wight,
882—Wigtonshire, 883—Wurtemberg,
945—Yorkshire, 962—3-4.—See the
geographical articles generally.
Agrigan, island, II. 356.
Agrigentum, II. 356; XV. 702—tem¬
ple of Jupiter at, III. 439—taken by
the Romans, VI. 190—by the Cartha¬
ginians, 192 ; VII. 185.
Agrion, insect, IX. 210.
Agrionia, II. 357.
Agriophagi, II. 357.
Agriopus, fish, XII. 174.
Agrippa (Cornelius), II. 357.
  (Herod), II. 357 ; XII. 573;
XIX. 401.
 (Marcus Vipsanius), II. 358.
Agrippina, II. 358 ; XIX. 403.
 Colonia U biorum, II. 358.
Agrippinians, II. 358.
Agrocinus, insect, IX. 179.
Agrom, II. 358.
Agromyza, insects, IX. 291.
Agrostographia, II. 358.
Aground, II. 358.
Agrtpnia, II. 358.
Aguada, river, II. 358.
Aguas-Beleas, II. 358.
Aguda, river, II. 358.
Ague, II. 358—anomalous forms of,
XVII. 486.
Ague-cake, II. 358.
Aguesseau (Henry Francis d’), II. 358.
Aguilar, II. 360.
Aguillaneuf, II. 360.
Aguillon (Francis), II. 360.
Aguirra (Joseph Saenz de), II. 360.
Agur, II. 360.
Agurah, II. 360.
Agusadura, II. 360.
Agyei, II. 360.
Agyniani, II. 360.
Agyrt«, II. 360.
Ahab, king of Israel, II. 360.
Ahanta, III. 244.
Aiiasuerus, II. 361; IX. 371; XVII.
259.
Ahaus, II. 361.
Ahaz, king of Judah, II. 361.
Ahaziah, II. 362.
Ahead, II. 362.
Ahijah, II. 362.
Ahithophel, II. 362.
Ahjoli, II. 362.
Ahmedabat, II. 604.
Aiiolibah, II. 363.
Ahrweil, II. 363.
Ahull, II. 363.
Ahun, a French town, II. 363.
Ahuys, a Swedish town, II. 363.
Ai, a town in Judea, II. 363.
 , in zoology, XIV. 142, 73, note—
its stomach, HI. 35—intestines, 37—
bloodvessels, 39.
Aichstadt, a German town, II. 363.
Aid, II. 364.
Aid-de-Camp, II. 364.
Aidan, bishop, II. 364.
Aidona, II. 364.
Aighendale, II. 864.
Aigle, II. 364.
Aigues-Perses, II. 364.
Aiguillon, II. 364.
Aiguisce, in heraldry, II. 364.
Aigurandes, II. 364.
Aikman (William), II. 364.
Ailana, II. 364.
Ailanto tree, XVII. 787.
Aile, in law, II. 364.
Ailesbury, II. 365.
Ailmer, II. 365.
Ailred, II. 365.
Ailsa, II. 365.
Ailurus, in zoology, XIV. 160.
AIM—ALA
Aime’s artificial magnets, XIII. 763.
Ain, a department in France, II. 367.
Ainsa, II. 367.
Ainslie (Dr), on the Japanese, XII. 551,
516.
Ainsworth, in Lancashire, II. 366.
 (Drs Henry and Robert), II. 366.
Air, II. 367. See Atmosphere.
Air-bladder of fishes, XII. 153, 161;
XVII. 717; XVIII. 98.
Air-gun, II. 367 ; XVIII. 75.
Air-jacket, II. 367.
Air-pump, XVIII. 79—Cavallo on the,
VI. 253—invention of, XVIII. 72 ;
IV. 387—of marine steam-engines,
XX. 697.
Air-shafts, II. 367.
Air-thermometer, IV. 392 ; XXI. 236—
theory of, 241.
Air-trunk, II. 368.
Air-vessels, II. 368.
Air-volcanoes, XVII. 515.
Airani, II. 368.
Airdrie, XIII. 50.
Aire, II. 368.
 , river, navigation of, XVI. 7.
Airing of horses, II. 368.
Airmoss, skirmish at, V. 353.
Airs, II. 368.
Airy, or Aery, II. 368.
  (Professor), on hydrodynamics,
XII. 8—on optics, XVI. 374, 433,
503—his sphero-cylindrical specta¬
cles, 393.
Aisne, in France, II. 368.
Aitiology, XVII. 438.
Aitken (James), incendiary, V. 425.
Aitkin (J.), his method of applying a
remontoir to the dead beat scapement
of a clock, VI. 776—his improved
dial-work, 779.
Aitoczu, river, II. 368.
Aiton (Wm.), II. 368—his “ Hortus
Kewensis,” VIII. 221.
Aius Locutius, II. 369.
Aix, II. 369.
Aix-la-Chapelle, II. 369—treaty of,
V. 383.
Aixette, river, II. 369.
Aizoidese, in botany, V. 112.
Ajaccio, in Corsica, II. 363.
Ajalon, II. 363.
Ajan, in Africa, II. 363.
Ajax, II. 363.
Ajazzo, II. 363.
Ajello, II. 364.
Ajmeer, II. 365—temples at, XI. 408.
Ajutage, II. 369.
Akdala, VIII. 396.
Akenside (Mark), II. 369—on sympa¬
thy, VIII. 55—on laughter, XIII. 121,
123—his poetry, XVIII. 173.
Akerblad on hieroglyphics, XI. 306.
Akerman, in Russia, II. 370.
Akhmetscuet, II. 370 ; VII. 472.
Akiitiar, or Sevastopol, II. 370; VII.
473.
Akiba, rabbin, II. 370.
Akis, insect, IX. 163.
Akissar, II. 370.
Akond, II. 371.
Al, II. 371.
Ala, II. 371.
Alaba, II. 371.
Alabama, II. 371—canals in, XVI. 26
—railroads, XXL 474—state-bonds
of, 479.
Alabarcha, II. 371.
Alabaster (William), II. 371.
 , mineral, II. 372—its specific gra¬
vity, XII. 26.
Alabastrum Dendroide, II. 372.
Aladinists, II. 372.
Aladschahissar, II. 372.
Aladulia, II. 372.
Al Aftekin, VIII. 478.
Alagos, XVII. 237.
Alain (Chartier), II. 372.
Alais, II. 372.
Alajor, II. 372.
Alamagan, island, II. 372.
Alamandus (Lewis), II. 373.
. Alamanni (Lewis), II. 373.
ALA—ALB
Alamodality, II. 373.
Alamode, II. 373.
Alamos, II. 373.
Alan (Cardinal William), II. 373.
Aland, archipelago of, II. 373—IV. 330.
Alangiese, in botany, V. 109.
Alani, X. 478 ; XIX. 413—their irrup¬
tion into Spain, XX. 492,
Alantin, VI. 476.
Alar del Rey, II. 373.
Alaraf, II. 374.
Alarbes, II. 374.
Alares, II. 374.
Alaric, II. 374—his invasion of the
Roman empire, XIX. 420.
Alarm, II. 374—for steam-boilers, XX.
682.
Alarm-clocks, VI. 782.
Alascani, II. 374.
Alasco (John), II. 374.
Alassio, II. 374.
Alassona, II. 374.
Alatamaha, II. 374.
Alauda, bird, XVI. 579.
Alauta, river, II. 374.
Alava, in Spain, II. 374.
Alay, II. 375.
Alayor, II. 375.
Al Aziz, VIII. 478.
Alb, II. 375.
Alba, II. 375.
Alba Longa, II. 375; XIX. 363.
Albacete, Spanish town, II. 375.
Albahurim, II. 375.
Albaida, II. 375.
Alban, II. 375—St Alban, ib.
Albanenses, II. 375.
Albani, II. 375—VI. 2.
 (Francis), II. 376; XVI. 720.
Albania, II. 376—language of, XIII. 90.
 in Asia, II. 380.
Albanians in Greece, X. 738.
Albano, city, II. 380.
 , painter, XVI. 720.
Albans (St), II. 380 ; XI. 285—battle of.
VIII. 735—early printing at, XVIII.
554
Albanus Mons, II. 380.
Albany, II. 380; XVI. 196.
 (Dukes of), regents of Scotland,
XIX. 711, 721—Earl of, 714.
Albarazin, II. 380.
Albarii, II. 380.
Albarium opus, II. 380.
Albategni, astronomer, II. C80 III.
734.
Albaterra, II. 381.
Albati equi, II. 381.
Ablatross, XVI. 632.
Albazin, II. 381.
Albe, II. 381.
Albeck, II. 381.
Albemarle, II. 381—Duke of. See
Monk.
Albengua, II. 381.
Albernuo, II. 381.
Alberoni (Julius), II. 381.
Albert, emperor of Austria, XXL *3.
 , Margrave of Brandenburg, II.
381.
 of Mecklenburg, king of Sweden,
XXL 13.
  of Saxony, on aeronautics, II.
178.
Alberti (Leon Battista), II. 380 ; III.
425.
 on medical jurisprudence, XIV
491.
 , a town in Hungary, II. 381.
Albertini, botanists, V. 80.
Albertus Magnus, II. 381; XIII. 29?.;
XIV. 76—on sal-ammoniac, II. 600—
on alchemy, VI. 343.
Albf.rtus, gold coin, II. 381.
Albesia, II. 381.
Albi, French town, II. 381.
Albigenses, II. 382; XII. 283.
Albigeois, IL 381.
Albin on birds, XVI. 546.
Albini. II. 282.
Albinism among animals, XIV. 86.
Albinos, 11.382.
Albinovanus, Latin poet, H. 384.
6
INDEX,
ALB—ALC
Albinus, II. 384—his anatomical la¬
bours, 701, 703—on the muscles, 793.
Albion, II. 384 ; V. 293.
Albion printing-press, XVIII. 570.
Albione, worm, XI. 226.
Albireo, II. 384.
Albis, II. 384.
Albisola, II. 384.
Albite, XV. 152—its sp. gr. XII. 26.
Alblasser-Waard, II. 384.
Albogaeerus, II. 384.
Alboin, Lombard chief, XII. 465 5 XIII.
465.
Alborak, II. 384.
Alboro, II. 384.
Albouro, Danish town, II. 384.
Albricius, II. 385.
Albucasis, his surgical skill, XX. 826,
827.
Albuera, II. 384—battle of, V. 530.
Albufeira, II. 384.
Albugineous fibre, XVII. 603.
Album, II. 385.
Albumen (animal), VI. 493 ; XVII. 620,
622—its use in clarifying, VI. 727—
its qualities as an aliment, VIII. 19—
of eggs, VIII. 456—albuminous secre¬
tions, XVII. 649.
   (vegetable), VI. 478 ; V. 51—of
seeds, III. 75; XXL 567, 568.
Albuquerque, Spanish town, II. 385.
Alburn, II. 385.
Alburnum of trees, II. 385 ; III. 83 ; V.
33.
Alburnus, angling for, III. 147.
Alby, in France, II. 385.
Alca, bird, XVI. 630.
Alcabala, Spanish tax, XX. 522.
Alcaqar-do-Sal, II. 386, 553.
Alc^us, II. 385.
Alcaics, II. 385.
Alcaid, II. 385.
Alcala, Greek Bible, IV. 614.
 de Guadeira, II. 386—de Hena-
res, ib.
Alcala-Real, II. 386.
Alcali. See Alkali.
Alcamel, caliph of Egypt, VIII. 483.
Alcamo, a Sicilian city, II. 386.
Alcan, VII. 284.
Alcaniz, a Spanish town, II. 386.
Alcanna, II. 386.
Alcantara, in Spain, II. 386—in Bra¬
zil, XIV. 241—knights of, II. 386.
Alcaraz, a Spanish city, II. 386.
Alcassar do Sal, II. 386, 553.
 in Barbary, II. 386.
Alcaudete, a Spanish town, II. 386.
Alcavala, Spanish tax, II. 387.
Alcazar de St Juan, II. 387.
 Leguer, II. 387.
Alcedo, bird, XVI. 592.
Alcetas, king of Epirus, IX. 312.
 , Greek antiquary, XII. 291.
Alchemists, VI. 342-7—their fancies re¬
specting dew, VII. 749—in Persia,
XVII. 254.
Alchemy, II. 387; VI. 341, ct seq.;
XVII. 425, 430.
Alciat (Andrew), II. 387.
Alcibiades, II. 387 ; IV. 157, n. 2, 158,
et seq.—his death and character, 161,
n. 1—conduct of Socrates towards him,
XX. 441—his respect for that phi¬
losopher, 444.
Alcinous, II. 387.
Alciopa, worm, XI. 220.
Axcira, Spanish town, II. 387.
AlLCmaer, II. 387, 579.
A.lcman, Greek poet, II. 388.
Axcmanian verse, II. 388.
Alcmena, II. 388.
A.lcobaza, in Portugal, II. 388.
AlcOck (John), II. 388.
Alcoentre, II. 388.
Alcohol, II. 388; VI. 437—present in
all ardent spirits, VIII. 44—its ten¬
dency to stop distillation, 49—how to
inflame it by electricity, 626—its va¬
pour not likely to supersede steam as
a moving power, IX. 432—mode of
freezing it, ib.—its sp. gr. XII. 26, 34—
its use in lamps, XIII. 41—its poison-
ALC—ALE
ous quality, XIV. 507—Alcohol-ther¬
mometer, XXI. 237.
Alcoran, or the Koran, II. 388. See
Koran.
Alcoranists, II. 391.
Alcove, in architecture, II. 391.
Alcoy, a Spanish city, II. 391.
Alcuinus, II. 392—his learning, XIII.
292.
Alcynog, zoophyte, XXL 1019.
Alcyonium, one of the mollusca, XV.
370 ; II. 392—Stagnum, ib.
Alcyonius (Peter), II. 392.
Aldborough, II. 392.
Aldea del Rio, II. 392.
Aldebaran, II. 392.
Alder trees, XVII. 784, 790—specific
gravity of wood, XII. 26.
Alderholm, island, II. 393.
Alderman, II. 393.
Alderney, II. 393—cattle, 324.
Aldhelm (St)s II. 393.
Aldport, II. 393.
Aldred, II. 393.
Aldrich (Robert and Henry), II. 394.
Aldrisi, VIII. 431.
Aldrovandus (Ulysses), II. 395—on
animals, XIV. 77—on ornithology,
XVI. 545.
Aldston-Moor, II. 395—lead-mines of,
VII. 537
Aldunate (Colonel), VI 543.
Aldus, his Greek Bible, IV. 614—his edi¬
tions of the Greek classics, 626—his
correction of the press, XVIII. 558.
Ale, II. 396—brewing of, V. 230—its
difference from beer, 252—Irish trade
in, XII. 406—Scotch manufacture of,
XIX. 769. .
Ale-Conner, II. 396.
Alea, II. 396.
Aleander (Jerome), II. 396.
Alecto, II. 396.
Alector, bird, XVI. 605.
Alectoria, II. 396.
Alectoromantia, II. 396.
Alee', a sea term, II. 397.
Alegrette, Portuguese town, II. 397.
Aleius Campus, II. 397.
Aleman (Matteo), his romance,XIX. 352.
Alemania, II. 397.
Alemanni, XIX. 412.
Alembdar, II. 397.
Alembert (Jean le Rond d’), II. 397—
his classification of the sciences incor¬
rect, I. 1—vagueness of his views rela¬
tive to their origin, ib.—his unsuccess¬
ful delineation of an encyclopaedical
tree, 3—quotation from, on his divi¬
sion of human knowledge, 3-4—objec¬
tions to this, 5-6—his definition of
poetry 4—his identification of imagina¬
tion with abstraction, 6—his modesty
in propounding his theory, 7—his en¬
cyclopaedical tree only an amplifica¬
tion of Bacon’s sketch, 7-8—character
of his preliminary discourse on the
division of the sciences, 10—quotation
from, on the bias of the mind produced
by habits acquired in infancy, 64—his
mistaken view of the nature of space
and time, 142—mathematical re¬
searches of, 578—expanded the pro¬
cess of integration relative to partial
differences, 600—on dynamics, 604 ;
VIII. 387 ; XIV. 353—sketch of his
life and character, I. 604—converted
dynamics into an absolute analytical
science, 605—treated the subject of
hydrodynamics with his usual origi¬
nality and depth, 608—on achromatic
glasses, II. 104—his connection with
Diderot, VIII. 14—on double employ¬
ment in music, 122—on the resolution
of forces, 358—on the earth’s figure,
IX. 551—on imitative music, XV. 641.
Alembic, II. 399.
Alembroth, II. 399.
Alencon, in France, II. 399.
Alenio (Julius), II. 399.
Alentejo, in Portugal, II. 399.
Aleochara, insect, IX. 138
Alepocephalus, fish, XII. 200.
ALE—ALF
Aleppo, II. 399—Saladin’s siege of, VIII.
481—plagues in, XVII. 773.
Ales (Alexander), II. 401.
Alesham, in Norfolk, II. 401.
Alessandria, II. 401.
Alet, II. 401.
Aleuromancy, II. 401.
Aleuteres, fish, XII. 229.
Aleutian Islands, II. 401; XIX. 590.
Alexander, hieroglyphical characters of,
XI. 325.
Alexander the Great, II. 407 ; XIII.
624—was a poor judge of merit in
painting, III. 281—educated by Aris¬
totle, III. 491—his army, 588—era of,
VI. 660—Egypt under, VlII. 469—
anecdote of, IX. 577—his geographical
discoveries, X. 390—his expedition to
India, XI. 409; III. 696—his military
exploits and conquests, XIII. 630 et
seq.; XI. 474—his death and character,
XIII. 639—his will, 641—burial, 642
—monarchy founded by, XV. 381—his
invasion of Persia, XVII. 260—Tyre
taken by, XXI. 437.
 , king of Epirus, IX. 312.
  ab Alexandro, II. 407.
   (Noel), II. 407.
  of Pheraa, XXI. 196-8.
 VI. (Pope), II. 408 ; XXL 412.
  VII. (Pope), VI. 522.
 , bishop of Lincoln, II. 408.
 , emperor of Russia, reign of,
XIX. 557.
  Severus, II. 408 — reign of,
XIX. 410.
  (St.), bishop of Rome, II. 408.
  I., king of Scotland, XIX. 705.
  II., king of Scotland, II. 408 5
XIX. 707.
   III., king of Scotland, II. 408;
XIX. 707.
  of Trallis, XX. 825; XXL 343.
  (Sir William), II. 408 ; IV. 403.
Alexandra, queen of the Jews, XII. 571.
Alexandretta, II. 408.
Alexandria, II. 409, 230—academy of,
66—cultivation of science at, under
the Ptolemies, 688 ; X. 425—anato¬
mical school of, II. 688—astronomical
school, III. 729—era of, VI. 658—
destruction of the temple of Serapis in,
VII. 279—embellished by Ptolemy So-
ter, VIII. 470—library of, XIII. 286;
XIV. 315; VIII. 477—Pharos of, XX.
15—surgeons o'f, 822—battle of, in
1801, V. 505; VIII. 493—bombard¬
ment of, 493—commerce, ancient, VII.
156 ; XI. 387 ; and modern, VIII. 524
—other ancient cities of that name, II.
143.
  in Louisiana, XIII. 373.
  in Maryland, XIV. 274.
  in Russia, II. 413.
Alexandrian, II. 414—manuscript, ib.
Alexandrine, II. 414.
Alexandrow, in Russia, II. 414.
Alexandrowsk, in Russia, II. 414.
Alexei, emperor of Russia, XIX. 540.
Alexicacus, II. 414
Alexin, in Russia, II. 414.
AlexiPharmics, II. 414.
Alexis, II. 414.
Alexiterial, II. 414.
Alexius Comnenus, VII. 285.
  Strategopulus, VII. 287.
Aleyn (Charles>, II. 414.
Alfaques, II. 414.
Alfarabius, an eastern philosopher, II.
415.
Alfaro, a Spanish town, II. 415.
Alfdouch, II. 415.
Alfergan, astronomer, II. 415; III.
734.
Alfet, 11.415.
Alfieri, (Victor), II. 415—his tragedies,
VIII. 157.
Alfonso.—See Alphonso.
Alford, II. 418—battle of, V. 327—canal.
XVI. 8.
Alfragan, astronomer, II. 415 ; III. 734.
Alfred the Great, II. 418 ; VIII. 702—
academy founded by, II. 67—his trans-
ALF—ALT
lation of Boethius, IV. 7 30—his Domes¬
day Book, VIII. 100—his ships, XX.
214—not the founder of the University
of Oxford, XXL 492.
  (Prince), VIII. 707.
Alfric, VIII. 706.
Algse, in botany, V. 38,138—their classi¬
fication still uncertain. III. 181—re¬
productive organs of, V. 56.
Algaiola, in Corsica, II. 420.
Algamatolite, in mineralogy, XV. 148.
Algaroth, II. 420.
Algarotti (Count), II. 420.
Algarve, in Portugal, II. 420.
Algazel, in zoology, XIV. 162.
Algebra, II. 420—invention of, I. 440;
XIV. 315—first introduced into Eu¬
rope by Leonardo, I. 440; XIV. 316
—introduced by Gerbert, I. 441—first
book pi'inted on, ib.—system of Dio-
phantus, 591—resolution of equations
higher than the second degree, and
extension of the rule by Cardan, ib.—
merit of Cardan’s discoveries, 442—
he gave his algebraic rules a poetical
dress, ib.—properties of algebraic equa¬
tions discovered very slowly, ib.—con¬
tributions to the science by Recorde,
Bombelli, Vieta, Girard, Harriot, and
others, 442-3. See also these heads,
and 591-2—causes why the properties
of equations were discovered so slowly,
443—application of algebraical analy¬
sis by Descartes, to define the nature
and investigate the properties of curve
fines, 444—analysis of the work in
which that discovery is announced, ib.
—advantages resulting from the intro¬
duction of algebra into geometry, ib.
—denotes both quantity and the ope¬
rations on quantity by means of con¬
ventional symbols, 445—excellence of
this, ib.—difference in practice between
the algebraical and geometrical me¬
thod of treating quantity, 445—obser¬
vations on the use of the signs plus
and minus, —extraction of the cube
root first discovered by the Arabians,
583—observations on the algebraical
signs, 593—Descartes’s contributions
to, 594 ; VI. 181—proposal of the Con¬
choid, by Newton, I. 595—advance
made in, by the discoveries of Leib¬
nitz, ib.—discoveries of De Moivre and
Stirling, 595—theory of quadratic fac¬
tors, 596—account of improvements
made in algebra, 596-7—applications
of, and notice of elementary works on,
ib.—valuable results of the introduc¬
tion of, 444—of sines and cosines,
XIV. 323—annuities treated algebrai¬
cally, III. 220. See Equations, Nega¬
tive Sign, Series, &c.
Algenib, II. 502.
Algeziras, Spanish city, II. 502.
Algheri, Sardinian city, II. 502.
Algiabarii, II. 602.
Algidum, II. 502.
Algiers, II. 503, 235 ; IV. 360—Admi¬
ral Blake’s negotiation with, 673—
Christian slavery at, 366—Lord Ex¬
mouth’s attack on, V. 542—Mr
Bruce’s residence at, 606—weights and
measures of, XXI. 851.
Algo a bay, II. 511.
Algol, star, II. 511.
Algonquins, II. 511, 619.
Algor, II. 512.
Algorithm, II. 512.
Alguazil, II. 512.
Algyra, reptiles, XIX. 141.
A1 Hakem, VIII. 478.
Alhama, Spanish city, II. 512.
Alhambra, II. 512.
Alhazen, II. 513; III. 735; X. 428-
shews how objects appear larger near
the horizon, I. 505—his work on op¬
tics, 506-7 ; XIII. 329; XVI. 350-
solution of a very difficult problem by,
I. 506.
Alhi, a Sicilian city, II. 514.
Alhumecas, island, II. 514.
Ali, pupil of Mahomet, II. 514 ; XIV
INDEX
7
ALT—ALL
26—reign of, III. 342—tomb of, in
Meshed Ali, XIV. 596.
AH Bahauder, IV. 731.
 Bey, II. 515; VIII. 485—travel¬
ler under that name, VIII. 557.
 Pacha, history and character of,
II. 377.
Alias, in law, II. 515.
Alibi, in law, II. 515.
Alicante, II. 515—battle near, V. 534.
Alicantebilla, II. 515.
Alicata, II. 516 ; XV. 702.
Alicudi, island, XIII. 370.
Alien, II. 516—Lord Grenville’s aUen
bill, V. 467.
Alienation, II. 516—mental; see Men¬
tal Diseases.
Alima hyaUna, VII. 502.
Aliment, its effects on the mind, VIII.
443—and on health, XIV. 508—of
plants and animals, III. 166—aliments
distinguished from medicines and
poisons, ib. See Dietetics, Food, Nu¬
trition.
Alimentarii Pderi, II. 516.
Alimentary duct, II. 516.
Alipilarics, II. 516.
Alipterium, II. 516.
Aliquant part, II. 516.
Aliquot part, II. 516.
Alismacese, in botany, V. 136.
Alismoidese, in botany, V. 136.
Alison (Archibald), his theory of beauty,
IV. 487 ; XXI. 90—on the pleasure
arising from the study of antiquity,
IV. 492—on associations peculiar to
individuals, 494—on the beauty of
Greek architecture, 496.
•  (Dr. W. P.) on single vision,
XIII. 342—his classification of animal
functions, XVII. 591—on instinctive
motions, 678.
Alisontia, II. 516.
Alites, II. 516.
Alizarin, VIII. 306.
Aljaheia, II. 515.
Alkadarii, II. 516.
Alkahest, II. 516.
Alkalies, II. 516 ; VI. 436—vegetable,
460—Sir H. Davy’s decomposition of,
by means of galvanism, VII. 639—
manufacture of, at Newcastle, XVI.
152—alkaline bases, VI. 392—alkaline
poisons, XIV. 502 ; XVIII. 176.
Alkalimeter, II. 516.
Alkermes, II. 516,
A1 Ksar, in Morocco, XV. 505.
Alla, or Allah, II. 517.
Allagna, Italian town, II. 517.
Allahabad, in Hindostan, II. 517—in¬
scriptions at, XII. 291.
Allaire, II. 518.
Allamand (Monsieur), his criticism on
Locke’s argument against innate ideas,
1.107,250—Gibbon’s account of, 107.
Allan (Thomas), his improvement iu
stereotyping, XVIII. 565.
 (David), II. 518.
 , river, II. 518.
Allanches, II. 518.
Allanite, in mineralogy, XV. 160—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 26.
Allantoic acid, VI. 431.
Allantois, II. 518.
Allatius (Leo), II. 518.
Allectus, II. 519 ; V. 301.
Allecula, insect, IX. 166.
Allegany Indians, II. 619.
 mountains, II. 519, 614 ; XXI.
451, 658—their geology, II. 614.
- river, II. 519.
Allegata, II. 519.
Allegeas, II. 519.
Allegewis, II. 622.
Allegiance, II. 519.
Allegory, II. 520—fondness of the
orientals for, XVII. 377—French alle¬
gorical romance, XVIII. 164.
Allegri (Antonio), painter, II. 521. See
Corregio.
Allegro, in music, II. 522.
Allein (Joseph and Richard), II. 522.
Alleluiah, II. 523.
b
ALL—AIM
Allemand, II. 523.
Allemannic, II. 523.
Allemond, French town, II. 523.
Allen, bog of, XXI. 313.
 , Lough, XIII. 222.
   (John), II. 523.
 (Dr John), his proposal for mov¬
ing vessels by ejecting water from the
stern, XX. 687.
   (Thomas) II. 523.
Allendorf, II. 523.
Allenstein, II. 523.
Aller, river, II. 524.
Aller-good, II. 524.
Allerion, in heraldry, II. 524.
Allestry (Richard), II. 524.
Allevard, in Dauphiny, II. 524.
Alleveure, II. 524.
Alley (William), II. 524.
 , in gardening, &c„ II. 525.
Alleyn (Edward), II. 525.
All-hallow, II. 516.
Allia, river, II. 526.
Alliaceous plants, XI. 671.
Alliance, II. 526.
Allier, II. 526.
Alligati, II. 526.
Alligation, II. 526.
Alligator, XIX. 136.
Allioni on botany, V. 82.
Allioth, star, II. 527.
Alliteration, II. 527.
Allix (Peter), II. 528.
Alloa, in Clackmannanshire, II. 528—
ferry at, VI. 720—collieries, 721—
manufactures and trade, ib.
Allocation, II. 528.
Allochroite, in mineralogy, XV. 159.
Allocutio, II. 528.
Allodium, II. 528.
Allonville, great oak of, XXL 293.
Allophane, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Allos, in France, II. 529.
Alloy, II. 529.
All-Saints, II. 516—Bay, ib.; XIX. 628.
All-Souls, II. 517.
Allspice, XVII. 744.
Allstadt, in Saxe-Weimar, II. 529.
Alluminor, II. 529.
Allusion, II. 529.
Alluvium, VII. 702; II. 529.
Almacantars or Almucantars, II. 537.
Almada, Portuguese town, II. 529.
Almaden de Azogue, II. 529.
Almadie, II. 529.
Almagest, II. 529 ; III. 733, 734.
Almagra, II. 529.
Almagro, a Spanish fortress, II. 529.
  (Diego de), II. 529; XVII 296.
  the younger, II. 530.
Almajora, Spanish town, II. 531.
Almamon, II. 531 —his patronage of
science, II. 692; of astronomy, III. 734;
and of medicine, XX. 825.
Almanack, II. 531—old almanacks, III.
541, 542.
—^  (Nautical), II. 532 ; XIV. 279—
its use in finding longitude, XIII. 560.
Almansa, Spanish city, 11. 533.
Almansor (Caliph), II. 533.
Almanzor, a Moorish general in Spain,
XX. 496.
Almaraz, Spanish town, II. 533.
Almaric, II. 533.
Almazan, Spanish town, II. 533.
Almazarron, Spanish town, II. 533.
Alme, Egyptian dancing-girls, II. 533.
Almehrab, II. 534.
Almeida, II. 534 ; V. 529.
Almeisar, II. 534.
Almelo, II.'534.
Almene, II. 534.
Almeria, Spanish city, II. 534.
Almeyda (Don Francis), II. 534.
Almicantars, III. 755.
Almiggim or Almuggim, II. 537.
Almissa, II. 534.
Almohedes, dynasty, II. 534.
Almonbury, in Yorkshire,Tl. 535.
Almond, II. 535—ovulum in the, III. 99
—culture of the almond-tree, XI. 643.
  river in Edinburghshire, VIII.
429.
ALM— ALT
Almoner, II. 536.
A1 Monstaser, VIII. 478.
Almorah, in Hindustan, II. 536.
Almoravides, Arab tribe, II. 536.
Alms, II. 537—alms-box, ib.
Almsgiving, duty of, VI. 328—enjoined
by Mahomet, XIV. 38—objections to,
XVIII. 365.
Almucantars, II. 537.
Almucium, II. 537.
Almuggim, II. 537.
Almunecar, Spanish city, II. 537.
Alnage, II. 537.
Alnager, II. 537.
Alnwick, II. 537.
Aloa, II. 538.
Aloes poisonous to some animals, III.
166—sp. gr. of, XII. 26.
Alogians, heretics, II. 538.
Alogotrophia, IT. 538.
Alomya, insects, IX. 223.
Alonso, king of Portugal, XVIII. 463.
Alontium or Aluntium, II. 577.
Aloof, II. 538.
Alopecia, II. 538.
Alosa, fish, XII. 215.
Alost, city, II. 539.
Alouattes, in zoology, XIV. 94.
Alouchi, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Alpaca, animal, XIV. 157 ; IV. 747.
Alp Arslan, Sultan, II. 538.
Alpha, II. 539.
Alphabet, II. 539 — Hebrew, XVII.
364—Phoenician, 366—Arabic, 371—
Ethiopic, 375—Egyptian, 377—Sans¬
crit, 384—Bengalese, 385—Greek, 396
—Gothic, 418—for the blind, IV. 697
—finger, 699 ; VII. 650—origin of al¬
phabetic writing, XVII. 362—propos¬
ed universal alphabets, V. 321.
Alphasnix, II. 551.
Alphery (Mikipher), II. 551.
Alphonsin, surgical instrument, II. 551.
Alphonso I„ king of Portugal, II. 552.
—king of Arragon, XX. 496.
  III., IV., V., and VI., kings of
Portugal, II. 553, 554.
  III., king of Asturias, II. 555.
  X., king of Leon, II. 556—as¬
tronomy cultivated by. III. 736.
  V., king of Arragon and Naples,
II. 557.
Alpidium, one of the mollusca, XV. 37.
Alpini (Prospero), II. 557,
Alpiste, II. 558.
Alps, II. 558 ; IX. 406 ; XXI. 46, 530,
531, 538—botany of the, V. 76—Han¬
nibal’s passage of the, VI. 196; XI. 134
—Bonaparte’s passages, X. 105, 118—
road of the Simplon, XX. 356—Splu-
genroad, XX. 547—Noric, Carinthian,
and Julian Alps, XII. 252.
 (Lower, Higher, and Maritime),
departments of France, II. 563.
Alpcjarras, in Spain, II. 563.
Alquier, II. 563.
Alquifou, II. 563.
Alredus, historian, II. 563.
Alresford, II. 563.
Alsace, II. 563—canal of, XVI. 6.
Alsen, Danish island, II. 564.
Alsfeld, II. 564.
Alshash in Bukharia, II. 564.
Alsheda, in Sweden, II. 564.
Alsirat, II. 564.
Also-Kubin, in Hungary, II. 564.
Alsop (Anthony and Vincent), II. 564.
Alstahoug, in Norway, II. 565.
Alsted, in Denmark, II. 565.
Alstedius (John Henry), II. 565.
Alston (Charles), II. 565.
Alston-Moor. See Aldston-Moor.
Alt, in music, II. 565.
Altai Mountains, II. 565; XX. 326—
mines in the, XIX. 587.
Altaic or Mongolian race of man. See
Mongolian.
Altamont, Italian town, II. 566.
Altamura, Neapolitan city, II. 566.
Altar, II. 566 ; III. 407.
Altar-thane, II. 567.
Altdamm, in Pomerania, II. 567.
Altdorf, II. 567.
ALT—AMA
Altea, Spanish town, II. 567.
Alteland, II. 567.
Alten, in Fimnark, XIII. 112.
Altena, or Altona, II. 567.
Altenberg, II. 567.
Altenbruch, II. 567.
Altenburg, II. 567.
Altenheim, II. 568.
Altenkirch, II. 568.
Altenkirchen, II. 568.
Altenotting, in Bavaria, II. 568.
Alterants, in medicine, II. 568—in
dyeing, VIII. 302.
Alteration, II. 568.
Altercation, II. 568.
Altern ate, II. 568.
Alternation, II. 568.
Alternative, II. 568.
Altern-base, II. 568.
Altgeorgenwalde, II. 568.
Althorp, library at, XIII. 300.
Altica, insects, IX. 184.
Altimetry, II. 568.
Altin, II. 568.
Altincar, II. 568.
Alting (Henry), II. 568.
 (James), II. 569.
Altitude, II. 570.
Altkirch, II. 570.
Altmore, II. 570.
Alto-Basso, II. 570.
Alton, II. 570—in Illinois, XII. 248.
Alto-Relievo. See Relievo.
Alto-Ripieno, in music, II. 570.
Altona, II. 570.
Altorf, II. 570.
Altranstadt, in Saxony, II. 571.
Altrincham, in Cheshire, II. 571.
Altsol, in Hungary, II. 571.
Altstrelitz, in Germany, II. 571.
Altzeg, German town, II. 571.
Alucita, insects, IX. 252.
Alum, II. 571—in mineralogy, XV. 139
—sometimes used by bakers. IV. 297
—prevents dry rot, VIII. 232—its use
in dyeing, VIII. 296, 301, 303, 317
—its specific gravity, XII. 26.
Alumina, VI. 398—salts of, 447—a mor¬
dant in dyeing, VIII. 303.
Alumine, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Aluminite, II. 575.
Aluminum, VI. 398.
Alumstone, in mineralogy, XV. 140.
Alunite, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Aluntium, or Alontium, II. 577.
Alured, II. 563.
Alurnus, insect, IX. 182.
Alva de Tormes, II. 577.
  (F. A. of Toledo, Duke of), II.
577—his proceedings in the Nether¬
lands, XI. 513, etseq.
Alvah, wood, II. 579.
Alvarado, in Mexico, XIV. 816.
Alvares de Luna, II. 579.
Alvarez (Francis), II. 579—his travels
in Abyssinia, 52.
 de Toledo (Don Jose), XIV. 787.
Alvearium, II. 580.
Alvecade, Portuguese town, II. 580.
Alveoli, II. 580.
Alveolus, II. 580.
Alvinz, in Croatia, II. 580.
Ai.vus, in anatomy, II. 580.
Alwaidii, Mahometan sect, II. 580.
Alyattes, king of Lydia, XIII. 607.
Alypius, II. 580.
Alyson, insect, IX. 230.
Alytarcha, II. 581.
Alzenau, in Bavaria, II. 581.
Alzey, in Germany, II. 581.
Alzira, a Spanish town, II. 581.
Ama, II. 581.
Amabyr, II. 581.
Amack, or Amak, II. 582.
Amada, temple of, III. 415.
Amadan. See Hamadan.
Amadanager, in India, II. 581.
Amadeus V., VIII., and IX., counts of
Savoy, II. 581-2.
Amadia, in Curdistan, II. 582.
Amadow, II. 582.
Amadowry, II. 582.
Amain, a sea-term, II. 582.
8
INDEX
AMA—AMB
Amak, island, II. 582.
Amai,, Swedish town, II. 582.
Amalakic, II. 582.
Amalasontha, II. 583.
Amalden, quicksilver mine of, XV. 257.
Amamk and Amalekites, II. 583.
Amalfi, II. 584 ; XV. 699—story of the
discovery of a copy of the Pandects at,
VI. 718.
Amalgam, II. 585; VI. 418-for elec¬
trical machines, VIII. 576.
Amalgamation, II. 585—extraction of
silver by, V. 8.
Amalth^ea, II. 585.
Amalth-ecs, II. 585.
Amalthea, in botany, V. 49.
Amama (Sixtinus), II. 585.
Amance, II. 585
Amand (M. A. G., Sieur de St), II. 585.
  (Saint), French cities, II. 586.
Amantea, Neapolitan town, II. 586.
Amantons (M.),his telegraph, XXI. 138.
Amanus, mountain in Syria, II. 586.
Amarante, a Swedish order of knight¬
hood, II. 586.
Amaranthacese, in botany, V. 125.
Amargura, island, II. 586.
Amarygmus, insect, IX. 166.
Amaryllidete, in botany, V. 133.
Amasia, II. 586.
Amasis, II. 586 ; VIII. 467-8 ; XI. 324.
Amathusia, insect, IX. 242
Amativeness, faculty of, XVII. 461, 689.
Amatorii musculi, II. 587.
Amatrice, Neapolitan city, II. 587.
Amatta Foa, island, II. 587.
Amaurosis, II. 587—in the domestic
animals, XXI. 636.
Amaziah, king of Judah, II. 587.
Amazon, river, II. 587 ; V. 198; XIX.
253; III. 675—vegetation of, V. 201
—Acuna’s exploratory voyage on the,
II. 133—navigation of the, 614 ; XVI.
28—Condamine’s voyage on the, VII.
199—its connection with the Orinoco,
XVI. 537—tides in the, XXI. 282.
Amazonia, II. 587—climate of, 612,
Amazonian Habit, II. 590.
Amazons, female warriors, II. 587.
Ambacht, II. 590.
Ambarvalia, II. 590.
Ambassador, II. 590.
Ambassis, fish, XII. 168.
Ambato, XVIII. 798.
Ambe, surgical instrument, II. 590.
Amber, II. 590 ; XV. 172—electricity of,
VIII. 565—specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Amberg, II. 592.
Ambergris, II. 592 ; XIV. 185 ; XII.
512—specific gravity of, 26.
Ambert, in France, II. 594.
Ambettuway, II. 594.
Ambiani, now Amiens, II. 594.
Ambidexter, II. 594.
Ambient, II. 594.
Ambierle, French town, II. 594.
Ambigene oves, II. 594.
Ambigenal Hyperbola, II. 594.
Ambiguous, II. 594.
Ambit, II. 594.
Ambition, II. 595.
Ambitus, II. 595.
Amble, II. 595; XI. 591.
Ambleside, in Westmoreland, II. 595.
Ambleteuse, French town, II. 595.
Amblygon, II. 595.
Amblygonite, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Amblyope, II. 595.
Amblyteres, insects, IX. 157.
Ambo, or Ambon, II. 595.
Ambohitsmene, in Madagascar, II. 595.
Amboise, French town, II. 595.
 (Francis and George d’), II. 595.
Amboule, in Madagascar, II. 596,
Amboyna, island, II. 596—serpents of,
XX. 137.
Ambracia, in Epirus, II. 599.
Ambreada, II. 600.
Ambreie acid, VI. 430.
Ambresbury, II. 600.
Ambrones, II. 600.
Ambrose, of Alexandria, II. 600.
  (St) II, 600 ; VII. 280—said to
AMB—AME
have first introduced antip’ional sing¬
ing, III. 255.
 (Isaac), II. 602.
Ambrosia, II. 603.
Ambrosian library at Rome, XIII. 309.
 office or rite, II. 603.
Ambrosin, coin, II. 603.
Ambrosius Aurelianus, II. 603.
Ambry, II. 603.
Ambubaj.*, II. 603.
Ambulant, II. 603.
Ambulatory, II. 603.
Amburbium, II. 604.
Ambury, II. 604.
Ambuscade, or Ambush, II. 604.
Amby, in the Netherlands, II. 604.
Amedabat, in Hindostan, II. 604.
Amedians, monks, II. 604.
Ameilhon on the classification of books,
IV. 631, 632.
Ameiva, reptiles, XIX. 139.
Ameland, island, II. 604.
Amelia, II. 604.
Amelot de la Houssai (Nicholas), II. 604.
Amelotte (Denis), II. 605—his French
New Testament, IV. 616.
Amen, II. 605.
Amend or Amende, II 605.
Amende Honorable, 11.605.
Amendment, II. 605.
Amenoph, VIII. 463.
Amenophion, or Memnonium, at Thebes
in Egypt, VIII. 538.
Amenophis III., his encouragement of
the military spirit among the Egyp¬
tians, III. 581.
Amenophthes, XI. 324.
Amenses, XI. 323.
Amentaceai, in botany, V. 130.
Amentum, II. 60J; V. 40, 49.
Amerade, II. 605.
Amercement, or Amerciament, II. 605.
Amerhinus, insect, IX. 174.
America, II. 605—armies of, III. 616—
Indian bibles, IV. 618—botany of, V.
76—Cabot’s discoveries in, 766—ca¬
noes, VI. 89—discovery of, by Colum¬
bus, VII. 130,159; X. 399—effects on
commerce, of the influx of gold and
silver from, VII. 160—emigration to,
VIII. 686—unoccupied lands in, 687
—insects of, IX. 103—fur-trade of, X.
260—variation of the needle in, XHI.
735, 737—languages of, XVII. 423,
555—volcanoes, 512—cataracts, 525
—animals, 551—peopling of, 555—
course of rivers, XIX. 252—Robert¬
son’s History of, 301—Popery in, 316
—Russian possessions in, 590—ser¬
pents, XX. 133, 137—negro slavery,
384—steam-navigation to, 691—is the
sugar cane a native of? 791—timber
of, XXI. 295.
—   (North), aurora borealis in, IV.
196—Humboldt’s vertical section of,
402—war between the British and
French in, V. 383-4—Canadian In¬
dians, VI. 65 — remarkable wooden
bridge in, 292—temperature of, 764;
XVII. 543—British colonies in, VII.
124—exports from Britain to, 161—
anticipated drainage of the great lakes
of, VIII. 512, n. 2—mines, XV. 260-
inland navigation, XVI. 23—birds, 552
—plains, XVII. 502—heights of moun¬
tains of, 505, 556—volcanoes in, 514
—lakes, 522, 523—climate, 544—In¬
dians, XVIII. 55—map of, II. PI. 22.
 (South), French scientific expe¬
dition to, V. 144 ; IX. 548—recogni¬
tion by Britain of the independence of
the republics of, 560—trade with Eng¬
land, VIII. 779, 781—mines, XV. 264
—inland navigation, XVI. 28—birds,
552—plains, XVII. 502—heights of
mountains of, 505, 556—volcanoes in,
513—lakes, 522—equinoxial plants,
546—map of, II. PI. 23.
American Indians, II. 615; VI. 65;
XVIII. 55—their countenance, XIV.
198, 199, 200—traditions of the De¬
luge among them, VII. 699—two great
classes of North American Indians,
AME—AMO
XVII. 423, n.—American variety of
human species, XVII. 555, 697, 698.
See Cherokees, Esquimaux, &c.
 War, V. 390, 397, et seg.-Burke’s
opposition to the, 713—compensation
to the loyalists, 448.
Americus Vespucius. See /espucci.
Amersfort, a Dutch city, II. 654.
Amersham, in Bucks, II. 654.
Ames (Fisher), II. 654.
 (William), D.D., II. 655.
Ames’s “ Typographical Antiquities,”
IV. 623.
Amesbury, in Wilts, II. 655.
Amethyst, II. 655 ; XV. 157—its speci¬
fic gravity, XII. 26—circular polariza¬
tion in, XVI. 501.
Amethystine, II. 655.
Amhar, or Amhara, II. 655, 58.
Amharic alphabet, II. 549—language,
XVII. 376.
Amherst, in India, II. 655.
 (General), V. 384.
Amhurst (Nicholas), II. 655.
Amia, fish, XII. 216.
Amianthinite, sp. gr. of, XII. 26.
Amianthus, or Asbestus, II. 656—its
specific gravity, XII. 26.
Amicable, II. 656—benches, ib.—num¬
bers, ib.
Amici’s micrometer, XV. 16—his micro¬
scopes, 39, 42.
Amictus, II. 656.
Amiculum, II. 656.
Amicus Curiae, II. 656.
Amida, Japanese god, II. 656.
Amidin, VI. 477.
Amiens, II. 656—cotton-manufacture
of, VII. 417—peace of, V. 506-8 ; X.
121, 126 ; XV. 729.
 Lamp, XIII. 42.
Amilcar, II. 656. See Hamilcar.
Amilicti, II. 657.
Amirante, II. 657.
Amisus, a city in Pontus, II. 657.
AmITTERE LEGEM TERRiE, II. 657.
Amlwich, in Wales, II. 657.
Amma, II. 657.
Amman, in Palestine, XVI. 746.
 (John Conrad), II. 657.
 (Paul), II. 657.
 or Ammant, II. 657.
Ammianus Marcellinus, II. 657.
Ammirato (Scipio), II. 658.
Ammobates, insects, IX. 234.
Ammocsetes, fishes, XII. 237.
Ammochrysos, II. 658.
Ammodytes, fishes, XII. 227.
Ammomooka, island, XVIII. 322.
Ammon, II. 658 ; XI. 319.
Ammonia, VI. 367—salts of, 445—sac-
charate of, 472—specific gravity of,
XII. 26—its poisonous quality, XIV.
502, 503.
Ammoniac, II. 659 ; VI. 491—sal-am¬
moniac, II. 659.
Ammonites, people of Palestine,'II. 663
—in conchold&y, XV. 345; VII. 366.
Ammonius, of Alexandria, II. 663 ;
XVII. 406, n. 2.
 , ancient lithotomist, XX. 822.
Ammophilus, insect, IX. 229.
Ammothea, genus of arachnides, III. 367.
Ammu river, XVI. 687.
Ammunition, II. 664.
Amnesty, II. 664.
Amnios, II. 664 ; XVII. 694—in botany,
V. 47—of seeds of plants, III. 99.
Amoeb.eum, a kind of poem, II. 664.
Amol, a town in Asia, II. 464.
Amomese, in botany, V. 132.
Amoneburg, in Germany, II. 664.
Amontons (Guillaume), II. 664—his ba¬
rometer, IV. 391, 393—his firo-wheol,
X. 554.
Amor*ans, II. 665.
Amorbach, in Bavaria, II. 665.
Amorgo, island, II. 665.
Amorites, II. 665.
Amortization, in law, II. 665.
Amos, prophet, II. 665.
Amosis, VIII. 463.
Amour, river, II. 665.
AMO—AMY
Amoy, II. 665; VIII. 692.
Ampelidese, in botany, V. 103.
Ampelis, bird, XVI. 570.
Ampelites, or cannel-coal, II. 665.
Ampfcre (Mons.), elegant experiment of,
on the projection of water through a
vertical slit, I. 611—on electro-mag¬
netism, VIII. 574; XXI. 684—on op¬
tics, XVI. 373—his electro-dynamic
cylinders, XXI. 685—his revolving
battery, ib.—his electripeter, 689.
Ampheres, II. 666.
Amphiaraus, Greek prophet, II. 666—
oracle of, XVI. 516.
Amphibia, II. 666; XIV. 123; XIX.
125—their teeth, III. 32—structure
of, XVII. 705.
Amphibology, II. 667.
Amphibrachys, II. 667.
Amphicoma, insects, IX. 160.
Amphicome, II. 667.
Amphictyon, king of Attica, IV. 142.
Amphictyons, assembly, II. 667.
Amphidromia, II. 667.
Amphidryon, II. 667.
Amphilociiius, bishop of leoniuw in
the fourth century, II. 667.
Amphilochus, diviner, II. 667.
Amphimacer, II. 667.
Amphinome, worm, XI. 219.
Amphion, in mythology, II. 667.
Amphipoda, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Amphipoles, II. 668.
Ampiiippii, II. 668.
Amphiprion, fish, XII. 176.
Amphiprorje, ancient ships, II. 668.
Amphiprostyle, II. 668 ; III. 464.
Amphisbsena, serpent, XX. 123.
Amphisbaenidse, serpents, XX. 123.
Amphiscii, II. 668 ; X. 409.
Amphisile, fish, XII. 197.
Amphistoma, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Amphitheatre, II. 668 ; III. 443.
Amphitrite, in mythology, II. 670—
worm, XI. 218.
Amphitryon, II. 670.
Amphiuma, reptiles, XIX. 161
Amphora, II. 670.
Amphorarium Vinum, II. 670.
Amphotides, II. 670.
Amplexus, in conchology, XV. 345.
Ampliation, II. 670.
Amplitude, in astronomy, II. 670; III.
754—magnetical, II. 670.
Ampsancti Vallis, II. 670.
Ampthill, II. 670—Park, IV. 517.
Ampulex, insect, IX. 229.
Ampulla, II. 671.
Ampullaria, in conchology, XV. 348.
Ampurias, in Catalonia, II. 671.
Amputation, XX. 836—now less resort¬
ed to than formerly, 834.
Amraphel, king of Shinar, II. 671.
Amp.as, in Germany, II. 671.
Amritsir, in Hindostan, II. 671.
Amru-Ebn-al-As, a famous Saracen
leader, II. 671, 410; VIII. 477.
Amrum, Danish island, II. 671.
Amsdorfians, religious sect, II. 671.
Amsterdam, II. 671—corn-trade of, VII.
363—manufacture of diamonds at,
VIII. 6—population of, XV. 557—
canal-of, XVI. 5—bank of, XVII. 45
—measures used in, XXI. 84 6—weights
used in, 848.
  (Island of), II. 672 ; IV. 217;
XVIII. 322.
Amulet, II. 672.
Amun, Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Amur, river, II. 665.
Amurath I. emperor, II. 672 ; XXI.
411; VII. 289.
 II. emperor, II. 673 ; XXI. 411;
VII. 289.
 III. emperor, XXI. 412.
 IV. emperor, II. 673 ; XXI. 412.
Amusement, necessity and importanca
of, III. 267—natura. desire of, VIII.
179.
Amwell, in Hertfordshire, II, 673.
Amworth, vitrified fort at, IX. 758.
Amygdalese, in botany, V. 107.
Amygdaloid in Iceland, XII. 148.
INDEX
9
AMY—ANA
Amylaceous, II. 673.
Amylin, VI. 477.
Amynta, II. 673.
Amyntas, king of Macedon, XIII. 620.
Amyntok, II. 6? 3.
Amyot (James), bishop of Auxerre, and
grand almoner of France, II. 673.
Amyraldism, II. 673.
Amyraut (Moses), II. 673.
Amyridea;, in botany, V. 106.
Amyris, in botany, IV. 322.
Ana, II. 673.
Anabaptists, II. 678 ; XIV. 560—per¬
secution of, in Queen Elizabeth’s reign,
VIII. 757.
Anabas, fish, XII. 190.
Anabasii, II. 680.
Anabates, birds, XVI. 588.
Anabathra, II. 680.
Anableps, fish, XII. 199—its eyes. III.
22.
Anaboa, island, II. 680.
Anabol^um, or Anabole, II. 680,
Anaboleus, II. 680.
Anacalypteria, II. 680.
Anacampteria, II. 680.
Anacamptic, II. 680.
Anacanthus, fish, XII. 235.
Anacardieae, in botany, V. 106.
Anacardium, in botany, V. 68.
Anaeeium, in ancient Athens, IV. 118.
Anacharsis, Scythian, II. 680.
Anachoret, II. 680.
Anachronism, II. 680.
Anaplastic Glasses, II. 680.
Anaclastics, II. 680.
Anacleteria, ancient festival, II. 680.
Anacleticum, II. 680.
Anaclinopale, II. 680.
Anaclinteria, II. 680.
Anacollema, II. 681.
Anaconda, serpent, II. 681.
Anacreon, II. 681—his address to the
Cicada, IX. 202.
Anacreontic verse, II. 681.
Anacrisis, II. 681.
Anacrosis, II. 681.
Anadema, II. 681.
Anadiplosis, II. 681.
Anadromus, in ichthyology, II. 681.
Anaduomene Venus, II. 681.
An,edeia, II. 681.
Anaemia, XVII. 126.
Anagnosta, II. 681.
Anacogical, II. 681.
Anagogy, or Anagoge, II. 681.
Anagram, II. 681.
Anagrammatist, II. 682.
Anagros, II. 682.
Anahuac, in Texas, XIV. 819.
Anahuatlels, II. 622.
Anak, II. 682.
Analcime, a mineral, XV. 150—specific
gravity of, XII. 26—double refraction
of, XVI. 369, 489.
Analecta, II. 682.
Analemma, II. 682.
Analepsis, II. 682.
Analeptics, II. 682.
Analogy, II. 682—evidence of, XIV.
640—reasoning from, XVII. 442, 464
—Socrates fond of teaching by, XX.
465.
Analysis, II. 682—Condillac on, VII.
206, 207—algebraic, II. 420—ancient
geometrical, XX. 359. See Geome¬
try, new.
Analytic, or Analytical, II. 683.
Anamboa, in Guinea, II. 683.
Anamim, II. 683.
Anammelech, II. 683.
Anamorphosis, II. 683 ; XVII. 284.
Ananas, XI. 660
Anancitis, II. 683.
Ananias, a Sadducee, II. 683.
Ananisabta, II. 683.
Anapasst, II. 683.
Anap^stic Verses, II. 683.
Anapera, insects, IX. 293.
Anaphora, II. 683.
Anaplasis, II. 683.
Anaplognathides, insects, IX. 157.
Anaflorexics, II. 683.
ANA—AND
Anarchi, II. 683.
, Anarchy, II. 683.
Anarnacus, in zoology, XIV. 182.
Anarrhichas, fish, XII. 193.
Anarropia, II. 683.
Anas, bird, XVI. 638.
Anaspis, insect, IX. 168.
Anastasio (St), Italian city, II. 683.
Anastasis, II. 683.
Anastasius I. and II., Roman emperors,
II. 683.
 Bibliothecarius, II. 684.
Anastomatics, II. 684.
Anastomosis, II. 684 ; XVII. 639—of
arteries, II. 719—of veins, 723.
Anastomus, fish, XII. 212,
 , bird, XVI. 620.
Anastrophe, II. 684.
Anatase, in mineralogy, XV. 161.
Anathema, II. 684.
Anatifer, in conchology, XV. 340.
Anatocism, II. 684.
Anatolia, or Natolia, XV. 737—coast of,
IV. 661.
Anatomy (human), II. 684—Dr Barclay
on its nomenclature, IV. 378—study
of, necessary for correct drawing,
VIII. 183—London school of, XIII.
517—in relation to medicine, XIV.
514—its influence on the advancement
of physiology, 516—physiology found¬
ed on, XVII. 584—history of, II. 685 ;
XVII. 728. See Surgery.
 (comparative), III. 1—its uti¬
lity, XVII. 584. See Animal King¬
dom, Entomology, Ichthyology, Orni¬
thology, &c.
 (pathological), XIV. 517- -its im¬
portance, XVII. 496.
 (vegetable), III. 41. See Tim¬
ber, and Vegetable Physiology.
Anaxagoras, III. 101; X. 422; XX.
439, 448—his astronomy, III. 727 ; I.
452—on the quadrature of the circle,
XX. 552.
Anaxander, Greek actor, VIII. 150.
Anaxarchus, a Greek philosopher of
the Eleatic sect, III. 102.
Anaximander, III. 102 ; X. 422—his
astronomy, III. 727.
Anaximandrians, III. 102.
Anaximines, philosopher, III. 102; X.
422—his astronomy, 727.
 , Greek historian, III. 102.
Anbar, a town in Asia, III. 103.
Anbertkend, III. 103.
Ancarano, Italian town, III. 103.
Ancaster, in Lincolnshire, III. 103.
Ancenis, in France, III. 103.
Ancestors, III. 103.
Anchises, III. 103.
Aneholm Canal, XVI. 8.
Anchomenus, insect, IX. 128.
Anchonus, insect, IX. 174.
Anchor, III. 103; XX. 55—forging of,
XII. 443-4—Indian mode of weighing,
XIV. 429—in architecture. III. 109—
in heraldry, ib. *
Anchor-ground, III. 109.
Anchor-scapement, VI. 769.
Anchovy, XII. 216—fishery, XV. 704.
Ancient, III. 109—demesne, ib.
Ancienty, III. 109.
Ancilla, in conchology, XV. 346.
Ancillon (M.), on the doctrines of the
French and German schools of philo¬
sophy, I. 186.
Ancona, in Italy, II. 109 ; XVII. 3.
Ancones, in architecture, III. 109.
Anconitanug on inscriptions, XII. 292.
Ancourt (Florent Carton d’), III. 109.
Ancram Muir, battle of, XIX. 731.
Ancre, French town, III. 109.
Ancus Martius, III. 109 ; XIX. 364.
Ancyle, ancient shield, III. 109.
Ancyloblepharon, III. 109.
Ancylodon, fish, XII. 176.
Ancyloglossum, III. 109..
Ancyloscelis, insect, IX. 234.
Ancylosis, in surgery, III. 110.
Ancylus, in conchology, XV. 348.
Andabat.®, III. 110.
Andalusia, III. 110—New, ib.
AND—AND
Andalusite, XV. 155—its sp. gr. XII. 26.
Andaman Islands, III. 110.
Andante, in music. III. 111.
Andeer, XX. 547.
Andegavi, or Andegavus, III. 111.
Andelys, in France, III. 111.
Andena, III. 111.
Andeol (St), French town, III. 111.
Anderab, III. 111.
Anderavia, or Inderabia, III. 111.
Andernacht, German town. III. 111.
Andero (St), Spanish town, III. 111.
Anderson (Alex.), mathematician, III.
Ill ; X. 429, 766.
 (Sir Edmund), III. 112.
 (Dr James), III. 112—his culture
of the bread-fruit, V. 212, 213.
  (Professor John), on evapora¬
tion, IX. 430,431—university founded
by, X. 540—on hygrometry, XII. 125
—how far the originator of mechanics’
institutions, XIV. 460.
 (Robert), III. 114.
Andes, III. 115 ; II. 606-9 ; XVII. 302 ;
XIX. 253 ; XXL 592—their geology,
II. 609 ; VI. 528—their influence on
the climate of South America, II. 610
—were the seats of ancient American
civilization, 622—their elevation a con¬
jectured cause of the Deluge, VII.
700—of Bolivia, IV. 745—of Chili, VI.
522—of Colombia, VII. 89.
Andeuse, a French city, III. 119.
Andorre, or Andorra, III. 119.
Andover, a town in Hampshire, III.
119—canal, XVI. 8.
 in Massachusetts, XIV. 303, 306.
Andra, or Andros, pashalic of, III. 119.
Andrada (Antonio d’), his travels in Asia,
III. 697.
 (Diego de Payva d’), III. 119.
Andral, on latent disease of gall-bladder
and brain, XVII. 478, 480—on dis¬
eases of stomach and liver, 481; and
spleen, 482—on worm-diseases, 483—
on sympathetic affections of the brain,
484—on softening of the brain, 489—
on pneumonia, 493.
Andrapodismus, III. 120.
Andrapodocapeli, III. 120.
Andre (Pere), on beauty, IV. 485.
Andreani (Paul), aeronaut, II. 188.
Andreanofskie Islands, II. 404.
Andreas (John), III. 120.
 (St), Hungarian town, III. 120.
 of Carystus, surgeon, XX. 822.
Andreasberg, in Hanover, III. 120.
Andrelinus (Publius Faustus), III. 120.
Andrcna, insects, IX. 232.
Andrenetae, insects, IX. 232.
Andreossy, his description of hydraulic
obelisks at Constantinople, III. 319.
Andretta, Neapolitan town, III. 120.
Andrew (St), III. 120—order of, ib.;
XXI. 244.
Andrews (Stl, city, III. 120; XIX. 703
—university of, XIX. 765 ; XXL 508
—university-library, XIII. 303.
 (James Pettit), III. 122.
 (Lancelot), III. 123.
  (Professor), on thermo-electri¬
city, XXI. 699.
Andrez (Abbate), on the history of paper,
XVII. 11.
Andria, III. 123.
Andriscus, III. 123.
Androcsecum, in botany, V. 43.
Androgeus, son of Minos, III. 123.
Androgynes, III. 123.
Androides, III. 123.
Androlepsy, III. 124.
Andromache, wife of Hector, III. 124.
Andromeda, in astronomy, III. 124—in
botany, V. 60, 69.
Andron, III. 124.
Androna, HI. 125.
Andronicus I., Comnenus, III. 125.
 of Cyrrhus, III. 125.
 (Livius), XIII. 401; VIII. 151
—his poetry, XVIII. 153.
Androphagi, III. 126.
Andros, island, III. 119, 126.
Andbum, III. 126.
AND—ANI
Andry on animal magnetism, XIV. 3,
Andrychow, in Galicia, III. 126.
Andujan, Spanish city, III. 126.
Anduze, French town, III. 126.
Anecdotes, II. 126.
Anegada, XVI. 76 ; XXL 660.
Anemometer, III. 126; XIV. 741;
XVII. 538; XVIII. 113—for railway-
carriages, XIX. 45.
Anemone, culture of, XI. 683.
Anemoscope, IV. 388 ; XVII. 538.
Anemur, III. 126.
Aneurism, XVII. 482, 483—John Hun¬
ter’s operation for the cure of, XX.
830—surgical treatment of, XX. 839.
Aneyzy, HI. 326.
Anfrye’s assaying furnace, III. 710, 715.
Angar, island, III. 126.
Angara, river, III. 126.
Angari, or Angarii, III. 126.
Angaria, III. 127.
Angazya, island, III. 127.
Angeiotomy, in surgery. III. 127.
Angels, III. 127—Gnostic doctrine of a
hierarchy of, 297—views of the Ma¬
hometans respecting, XIV. 33.
Angel-fish, XII. 234.
Angelica, XI. 675.
Angelics, sect of heretics, III. 127.
 , order of knights, III. 127.
Angelites, sect of heretics, III. 127.
Angelo (Michael). See Michael Angelo.
 (St), Italian town, III. 127.
Angelot, an ancient English gold coin,
III. 127.
Angelus (Isaac), III, 125.
Anger, HI. 127—properly regulated, be¬
comes a sense of justice, I. 407.
Angerburc, in Prussia, III. 128.
Angermanlands-Lapmark, III. 128.
Angermunde, in Prussia, HI. 128.
Angerona, pagan deity, III. 128.
Angers, in France, III. 128.
Anghiera, Italian town, III. 128.
Angiospermoe, in botany, V. 128.
Angle, III. 128 ; X. 432—solid, 457.
See Goniometry, X. 610.
Angles, old German nation, III. 132.
Anglesey, island, III. 132—druids in,
VIII. 203.
 (Arthur, earl of), III. 197.
 (marquis of), on Catholic eman¬
cipation, V. 575—his government of
Ireland, XII. 389.
Angling, III. 132—for char, XII. 210.
Anglo-calvinists, III. 151.
Anglo-Norman Gothic architecture, III.
454.
Anglo-Norman language, IX. 39.
Anglo-Saxon, III. 151—written cha¬
racters, II. 549—language, IX. 38 ;
XIII. 86 ; V. 295—institutions, VIII.
710—grammar, XIX. 73—version of
Scripture, 790—thanes, XXL 190.
Angola, in Africa, III. 151.
Angon, III. 153.
Angora, a city in Asia, III. 153.
Angot, in Abyssinia, III. 153.
Angou, province of Congo, III. 153.
Angouleme, in France, III. 153.
Angoumois, in France, HI. 153.
Angra, a city in Tercera, one of tl>«
Azores, III. 154.
Angri, Neapolitan town, III. 154.
Anguidse, serpents, XX. 122.
Anguilla, fish, XII. 223—angling for, III,
148.
Anguilliformes, in ichthyology, III
154; XII. 223.
Anguine Syren, XIII. 340,
Anguinum ovum, a fabulous egg, HI.
154 ; VIII. 208.
Anguis, serpent, XX. 123.
Angus, in Scotland, III. 154.
Angusticlavia, III. 154.
Anhalt-Bernburg, III. 154.
Anhalt-Dessau, III. 154.
Anhalt-Kothen, III. 154.
Anholt, Danish island, III. 155.
Anhydrite, a mineral, XV. 140—its spe¬
cific gravity, XII. 26.
Anianus, his Brevarium, VI. 714.
Anicetus, XVIII. 362
10
INDEX
AN I—ANN
Aniello. See Massaniello.
Animai Kingdom, III. 155.
Animals—changes on European animals
naturalized in America, II. 653—diffi¬
culty of defining the term, III. 155—
wherein different from plants, II. 685;
III. 155-8—substances of which com¬
posed, 158—harmonious combination
of their organs, 159—variety of organi¬
zation among, ib.—classification of,
ib., 169, et seq. ; II. 705; XVII. 549,
585—classifications of Linnaeus, III.
171; Virey,ib.; Lamarck, 172; Dume-
ril, 177; Blainville, 177;Macleay, 178;
and Cuvier, 179—no change of species
produced by time, climate, or other
secondary causes, 160 — geographical
distribution of, XVII. 549 ; III. 161;
II. 652—what constitutes a species, III.
161—hybrids generally barren, ib.—
do«trine of equivocal generation of,
162 ; XXI. 992—brain and nervous
system in different classes of, III. 163 ;
see Brain, &c.—insensibility of many
to pain, 164—cruelty to, 165—senses
of, 165—aliment of, 166 ; see Food
—nature of the flesh of different, ib.
—power of resisting starvation, 167;
II. 46—hybernation of, III. 167—pair¬
ing of, 168—obscure case of animal
and vegetable life combined, 186, 191
—electricity of, VIII. 609—effects of
light on, XIII. 340—effects of electri¬
city on, VIII. 638—effects of galvan¬
ism on, XXI. 681—equilibrium and
motion of, XIV. 380—strength of, 430
—extinct, XV. 225—geological succes¬
sion of, 238—number of species, XVII.
549—application of physiology to zoo¬
logy, 585—imaginary gradation of ani¬
mals, 587—mutual destruction of, 560,
note—small animals remarkable for
strength and agility, XX. 770. See
Brute, Zoology, Natural History.
Animal bodies, characteristics of, II. 705
—chemical constituents of, VI. 492—
more easily dyed than vegetable, VIII.
298—effects of electricity on, 638.
 Flower, III. 155.
 Food, XVII. 624; VIII. 23 ; IX.
721—preservation of, 729.
 Magnetism, XIV. 1.
 Mechanics, XIV. 524.
 Poisons, XIV. 507, 526.
Animalcules, III. 180—Spallanzani on,
XX. 523—limestone and chalk pro¬
duced by, XXL 1021.
Animated, III. 193.
Animation, III. 193.
Anime, in heraldry, III. 193—resin, ib.
—its specific gravity, XII. 26.
Animetta, III. 193.
Aninga, III. 193.
Anisomera, insects, IX. 261.
Anisonyx, insect, IX. 160.
Anjah, in Hindostan, III. 155.
Anjengo, in Hiudostan, III. 155.
Anjou, III. 193—Duke of, XVI. 107.
Anker, liquid measure, III. 193.
Ankerite, a mineral, XV. 142.
Ankerstrom, assassin, V. 464.
Anklam, in Pomerania, III. 193.
Ankle-bone, II. 791—joint, 792.
Anlaff, VIII. 703.
Ann, or Annat, III. 194.
Anna, or Ana, in Arabia, III. 194.
 Comnena, III. 194.
Annaberg, German city, III. 194.
Annachnan, island, III. 194.
Annagh, island, III. 194.
Annals, III. 194.
Annan, in Dumfriesshire, III. 194.
Annand (William), III. 195.
Annapolis, a town in Maryland, XIV. 273
—river and town in Nova Scotia, XVI.
284, 286.
Anne, queen of Great Britain, III. 195
—reign of, V. 367—her death and cha¬
racter, 373—duelling in her reign,
VIII. 254—her navy, XVI. 42.
 Boleyn. See Boleyn.
— , empress of Russia, XIX. 546.
 of Cleves, VIJI. 749.
ANN—ANT
Anne’s (St) Day, III. 195.
Annealing, III. 196—of metals, XX.
756.
Annecy, Sardinian city, III. 197.
Annelida, structure of, XVII. 720.
Annelides, worms, XI. 216.
 , mollusca, XV. 349.
Annesley (Arthur), III. 197.
 (Maurice), V. 377.
Annett (Peter), his “ History of the
Man after God’s own Heart,” VI. 317.
Anniversary, III. 197.
Annobon, African island, III. 197.
Annona, III. 198.
ANNON.5E Pr.efectus, III. 198.
Annonay, French town. III. 198.
Annot, French city, III. 198.
Annotta, dye-stuff, III. 235 ; VIII. 320;
XL 23; XII. 27—tree, VH. 706.
Annover, Spanish town, III. 198.
Annualrent, in law, III. 198.
Annuitants, their lives not so select as
is generally supposed, III. 203.
Annuities, III. 198—tables of, 229—
application of algebra to calculations
of, II. 473—Government’s loss by, V.
572—borrowing upon, XII. 325—ex¬
pectation of life in different countries,
XVIII. 420; in England, 424. See
Probability.
Annulet, III. 235—in architecture,
464—in heraldry, XI. 251 ; PI. 277.
Annulosa, III. 235 ; IX. 94 ; II. 706.
Annunciada, III. 235.
Annunciation, III. 235.
Anobium, insect, IX. 140.
Anodonta, in conchology, XV. 344.
Anodyne, II. 235.
Anointers, religious sect, III. 235.
Anointing, XXI. 448.
Anolius, reptile, XIX. 145.
Anolympiades, ancient games, III. 235.
Anomalistical Year, HI. 235.
Anomalous, III. 235—verbs, ib.
Anomaly, III. 235.
Anomia, in conchology, XV. 343.
Anomieans, III. 235.
Anomorhomboidia, spars, III. 235.
Anonacese, in botany, V. 95.
Anonymous books, III. 235 ; IV. 627.
Anopheles, insects, IX. 259.
Anorexia, III. 235.
Anorthite, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Anossi, III. 235.
Anotia, insects, IX. 203.
Anotta, dye-stuff, HI. 235; VIII. 320 ;
XI. 23 ; XII. 27—tree, VII. 706.
Anous, bird, XVI. 633.
Anout, island, III. 236.
Anquetil (Lewis), III. 236.
 (Abraham), III. 236.
Ansa’, in astronomy, III. 237.
Ansarians, III. 237.
Ansbach, in Bavaria, III. 237.
Anse, French town, III. 237.
Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury, III.
237 ; I. 309 ; VIII. 714.
Anser, bird, XVI. 636.
Ansiko, African kingdom, III. 238.
Anslo, Norwegian port. III. 238.
Anson (George, Lord), III. 238—his
voyage round the world, V. 379 ;
XVI. 54—his visit to the Ladrone
Islands, XIII. 10 ; XVIII. 317—Nar¬
rative of his Voyage, XIX. 303.
Anstruther (Easter), III. 238.
 (Wester), III. 239.
Ant, III. 289; IX. 227—mode of de¬
stroying ants, XII. 293.
 (white), or termes, II. 229,
Ant a, or Ahanta, in Africa, III. 244.
Antacids, III. 245.
Anta;, in architecture, III. 244, 461,464.
Antseopolis, ruins of, VIII. 544.
Antjeus, giant. III. 245 ; XIV. 330.
 , Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Antagogue, III. 245.
Antaleidas, peace of, XX. 527.
Antalia, XIX. 652.
Antalo, in Abyssinia, III. 245.
Antanaclasis, a figure in rhetoric, III.
245.
Antandrus, VI. 187.
ANT—ANT
Antarctic, III. 245.
Antares, star, III. 245.
Antavare, in Madagascar, III. 245.
Anteambulones, III. 245.
Ant-eater, XIV, 143-4—its teeth. III. 32.
Antecedent, III. 245.
Antecessor, III. 245.
Antecursores, III. 245.
Antediluvians, III. 245.
Antefixse, in architecture, III. 464.
Antejuramentum, III. 246.
Antelope, XIV. 162—African, II. 228.
Antelucan, III. 247.
Antemonic acid, VI. 385.
Antemurale, III. 247.
Antenati, III. 247.
Antenclema, in oratory, III. 247.
Antenicene, III. 247.
Antennse of insects, IX. 70—their func¬
tions in ants. III. 240—and in bees,
IV. 522.,
Antenor, III. 247.
Antepagmenta, III. 247.
Antepenultima, III. 247.
Antepilani, III. 247.
Antepileptics, III. 247.
Anteposition, III. 247.
Antepredicaments, III. 247.
Antequera, in Spain, III. 247.
Anteros, III. 247 ; VII. 549.
Antesignani, Roman soldiers. III. 247.
Antestari, III. 247.
Antestature, in fortification. III. 247.
Anthelmintic powder, kind of, recom¬
mended by Dr Alston, II. 565.
Anthem, III. 247.
Anthemius, Roman emperor, XIX. 423.
 of Tralles, his plan of the
dome of the church of St Sophia at
Constantinople, III. 380, 389 — on
Archimedes’s burning-glasses, V. 728.
Anther, in botany, V. 43, 44 ; III. 95,97.
Anthesphoria, an ancient Sicilian fes¬
tival, III. 247.
Anthesteria, Athenian feast. III. 247.
Anthesterion, the sixth Athenian
month, III. 247.
Anthia, insects, IX. 115.
Anthiacum, insect, IX. 233.
Anthicides, insects, IX. 168.
Anthidium, insect, IX. 234.
Anthius, fish, XII. 168.
Anthobii, insects, IX. 160.
Anthocephalus, zoophyte, XXI. 995.
Anthologion, III. 248.
Anthology, III. 248.
Anthomyia, insects, IX. 284.
Anthony (Saint) III. 248—knights of,
ib.—order of, ib.—St Anthony’s fire, ib.
Anthophila, insects, IX. 232.
Anthophora, insects, IX. 134.
Anthophyl'.ite, XV. 149—its specific gra¬
vity, XII. 26.
Anthorismus, in rhetoric, III. 248.
Anthozoa, zoophytes, XXI. 1021.
Anthracite, XV. 172; IV. 702 ; VI.
368—now employed in smelting iron
by hot blast, XX. 408.
Anthrax, III. 248—insect, IX. 267.
Anthrenus, insect, IX. 149.
Anthribus, insect, IX. 172.
Anthropoglottus, III. 248.
Anthropoides, birds, XVI. 618.
Anthropolatra, III. 248.
Anthropolatria, III. 248.
Anthropolites, III. 248.
Anthropology, III. 248. See Man.
Anthropomancy, HI. 248.
Anthropomorpha, III. 248.
Anthropomorphism, III. 248.
Anthropomorphites, heretics. III. 248.
Anthropomorphous, III. 248.
Anthropopathy, III. 248.
Anthropophagi, III. 248. See Can¬
nibal.
Anthroposcopia, III. 249.
Anthroposophy, XIV. 599.
Anthropothysia, III. 249. See Sacri¬
fice.
Anthus, bird, XVI. 577.
Anthypophora, in rhetoric, III. 249.
Anti, III. 249.
Antibacchius, III. 249.
ant—ANT
Antibes, a French town, III. 249.
Antiburghers, XX. 64—schism among
them, XIII. 660.
Antichrist, III. 249.
Antichristianism, III. 249.
AnTichthones, III. 249.
Anticoste, island, III. 249.
Antidicomarianites, III. 249.
Antidoron, III. 249.
Antidosis, III. 249.
Antidotes, XIV. 500, etseq.; XVIII. 180,
181.
Antigonus I., III. 250.
 Gonatas, III. 250 ; IV. 127.
Antigraphus, III. 250.
Antigua, island, III. 251.
 (La), in Guatimala, XI. 18.
Antiguggler, III. 251.
Anti-Libanus, XVI. 744.
Antilles, or Caribbee Islands, III. 251
—serpents of, XX. 137.
Antilogarithm, III. 251.
Antilogy, III. 251.
Antilope, genus of mammalia, XIV. 161.
Antimensium, III. 251.
Antimeria, in grammar, III. 251.
Antimetabole, in rhetoric, III. 251.
Antimetathesis, in rhetoric, III. 251.
Antimoniet of potassium, VI. 394—of
iron, 406.
Antimonious acid, VI. 385.
Antimony, III. 251; VI. 384—native,
XV. 164—salts of protoxide of, VI.
453—Basil Valentine on, 344—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 26—sometimes
poisonous, XIV. 502.
Antimony-blende, a mineral, XV. 170.
Antimony-glance, a mineral, XV. 169.
Antimony-mica, a mineral, XV. 147.
Antinog, ruins of, VIII. 544.
Antinoeia, III. 251.
Antinomians, heretics, III. 251.
Antinous, III. 252.
Antioch, III. 252—aqueduct at, 318—
Mundane era of, VI. 659—Caesarean
era of, 660.
Antiochian Sect and Epoch, III. 253.
Antiochcs of Ascalon, III. 253.
  the Great, his war with the Ro¬
mans, XIX. 387 ; XI. 476.
  Epiphanes, XI. 477—his inva¬
sion of Egypt, VIII. 472—his treat¬
ment of the Jews, XII. 569; XIX.
387.
Antiope, III. 253.
Antip^dobaptists, III. 253; II. 678.
Antiparos, island, III. 253.
Antipas (Herod), III. 253 ; XII. 573.
Antipater, III. 254 ; XIII. 640, et seq.
Antipathy, III. 254.
Antipaxo, XII. 341.
Antipelargia, III. 255.
Antiphlogistic regimen, XXI. 613.
Antiphon, geometer, X. 423; XX. 552.
Antiphonary, III. 255.
Antiphony, III. 255.
Antipodes, III. 255 ; X. 409.
Antiquare, III. 255.
Antiquarianism, Pinkerton on its plea¬
sure and utility, XIV. 465.
Antiquarii, III. 255.
Antiquary, III. 255—Scottish Society
of Antiquaries, VIII. 420.
Antique, III. 255.
Antiquities, III. 255—academies of,
II. 75—pleasure from the study of,
IV. 492 ; XIV. 465 —Egyptian, VIII.
530. See Medals, Athens, Rome, &c.
Antisabbatarians, a religious sect, III.
268.
Antiscii, III. 268.
Antiscorbutics, III. 268.
Antiseptics, III. 268 ; IX. 732, et seq.;
XVIII. 743.
Antispasmodics, III. 268.
Antistasis, in oratory, III. 268.
Antisthenes, Greek philosopher, III.
268—on mysteries, XV. 673—his ad¬
miration of Socrates, XX. 445.
Antistocheon, in grammar, III. 268.
Antistrophe, III. 268.
Antitactje, sect. III. 269.
Antithesis, in rhetoric, III. 269,
INDEX,
11
ANT—APH
Antitrinitakians, III. 269.
Antitype, III. 269.
Antivari, III. 269.
Antlers, XIV. 155.
Antlia, III. 269.
Antceci, III. 269 ; X. 409.
Antoine, French town, III. 269.
Antonia (Saint), French town. III. 269.
Antonian 'Waters, III. 269.
Antoniano (Silvio), III. 269.
Antonides Vander Goes (John),Dutch
poet, III. 269.
Antoninus Pius, Roman emperor, III.
870—reign of, XIX. 408—his account
of the Christians, VI. 630—wall of,
III. 272 ; V. 300; XIX. 408.
 Philosophus (Marcus Aurelius),
Roman emperor, III. 270—reign of,
XIX. 408—English translations of his
Meditations, XV. 444.
Antonio (Nicholas), III. 272.
 (Port), in Jamaica, XII. 501.
 (St), island, III. 273.
Antonios (Marcus), orator, III. 273.
 (Marcus), the triumvir, III. 273;
XIX. 396, 398—his death, 399—his
war against the Parthians, XVII. 104.
 Primus, XIX. 404.
Antonomasia, III. 274.
Antosiandrians, sect, III. 274.
Antrim, in Ireland, III. 274.
Antwerp, III. 276—commerce of, VII.
159—attacked by the Duke of Anjou,
XVI. 107 — taken by the Duke of
Parma, 109 ; XI. 519—proceedings
there in 1830, XVI. 137—siege of its
citadel in 1832, 141; IX. 779; XI.
73; XVI. 141.
Antyllus on Surgery, XX. 824.
Anubis, Egyptian deity, III. 276 ; VIII.
553; XI. 322.
Anus, muscles of the, II. 794.
Anvil, III. 277.
Anville (J. B. B.d’), III. 278; II. 236
—on geography, X. 400.
Anweiler, in Landau, III. 279.
Anycius Olybrius, a Roman emperor,
XIX. 423.
Anytus, one of the accusers of Socrates,
XX. 446, 458, 461.
Aodon, an animal, XIV. 183.
Aonides, the muses, III. 280.
Aorasia, III. 280.
Aorist, III. 280; X. 659.
Aoristia, III. 280.
Aorta, anatomy of the, II. 820—distri¬
bution of its branches, ib.—its anato¬
mical connections, 718—aortic system,
XVII. 638.
Aosta, in Piedmont, III. 280.
Ap^dusia, III. 280.
Apagoge, III. 280.
Apagogical demonstration, III. 280.
Apanthropy, in medicine, III. 280.
Aparithmesis, in rhetoric, III. 280.
Apartismenus, III. 280.
Apathy, III. 280.
Apatite, a mineral, XV. 140—crystal¬
lization of, VII. 521.
Apatura, insects, IX. 242.
Apaturia, Athenian feast, III. 280.
Apaulia, III. 280.
Ape, XIV. 89.
Apelles, III, 280 —his style of painting,
XVI. 702.
  Ponticus, antiquary, XII. 291.
Apellicon of Teos, III. 494.
Apellites, heretics, III. 281.
Apene, ancient chariot, III. 281.
Apennines, III. 281; XII. 483; IX.
406 ; XV. 705 ; XVII. 5 ; XXI. 431.
Apenrade, in Sleswick, III. 281.
Aperture, III. 281, 282.
Apetalose, or Apetalous, III. 282.
Apex, III. 282.
Aph.eresis, in grammar, III. 282.
Aphanisticus, insect, IX. 139.
Aphek, III, 282.
Aphelium, or Aphelion, III. 282.
Aphidii, insects, IX. 204.
Aphidiphagi, insects, IX. 185.
Aphiom, Kakahissabt, III. 282.
Aphis, insect, IX. 205—sucked, hatched,
APH—APO
and tended by ants, III. 241, 243
—Bonnet on the, IV. 770.
Aphlastum, III. 282.
Aphodius, insect, IX. 154.
Aphonia, III. 282.
Aphorism, III. 282.
Aphracti, III. 282.
Aphrodisia, festivals, III. 282.
Aphrodisiacs, III. 282.
Aphrodita, worm, XI. 221.
Aphrodite, a name of Venus, III. 282.
Aphroditopolis, VIII. 545.
Aphthardodocet^, sect, III. 282.
Aphthous thrush, XXI. 622.
Apiariae, insects, IX. 232.
Apiary, III. 282 ; IV. 534.
Apicius, III. 284.
Apingadam, III. 284.
Apion, insect, IX. 172.
Apis, Egyptian deity, III. 284 ; VIII.
554; XI. 321.
 , insect, IX. 237. See Bee.
Apistus, fish, XII. 174.
Aplexa, mollusca, XV. 358.
Aplome, specific gravity of, XII. 26.
Aplysia, mollusca, XV. 361.
Apobaterion, III. 285.
Apocalypse, III. 285.
Apocope, III. 285.
Apocrisarius, III. 285.
Apocrustics, III. 285.
Apocrypha, III. 285 ; IV. 613; XIX.
785—the Apocryphal New Testament
Books, XII. 561.
Apocynese, in botany, V. 120.
Apodect-e, III. 286.
Apoderus, insect, IX. 172.
Apodes, III. 286.
Apodictical, III. 286.
Apodyterium, III. 286.
Apogee, in astronomy, III. 286.
Apogon, fish, XII. 168.
Apolemia, zoophyte, XXI. 1018.
Apolides, III. 286.
Apollinarian games, III. 286.
Apollinartans, heretics, III. 286.
Apollinaris (Caius Sulpicius), II. 286.
  Sidonius (Caius Lollius), III.
286.
Apollo, III. 286—oracle of, at Delphi,
VII. 689.
  Belvidere, statue, III. 287;
VIII. 182; VIII. Plate 197.
Apollodorus, architect, III. 287.
 , painter. III. 287 ; XVI. 700.
 , grammarian, III. 287.
Apollonicon, XVI. 533.
Apollonius of Perga, III. 287 ; X. 426
-—his profound researches in mathe¬
matics, 1.435; XIV. 315—extended no¬
tation proposed by, III. 536—on astro¬
nomy, 730 ; IV. 15—on conic sections,
VII. 218, 219—his determinate sec¬
tion, 741—Simson’s restorations of his
works, XX. 358, 359.
   Ilhodius, III. 290 ; XVIII. 152.
 Tyanensis, III. 290 ; XVII. 446.
Apollonopolis Parva, ruins of, VIII. 542.
Apollos, III. 290.
Apollyon, III. 290.
Apologue, III. 290.
Apomyos Deus, III. 291.
Aponeuroses, XVII. 603.
Apono (Peter d’), III. 291.
Apopemptic, III. 291.
Apophthegm, III. 291.
Apophyge, in architecture, III. 464.
Apophyllite, a mineral, XV. 151—opti¬
cal properties of, XVI. 369, 491.
Apophysis, in botany, V. 55.
Apopis, Egyptian deity, VIII. 552.
Apoplexy, III. 291; XVII. 481, 486-
in horses, XXI. 633.
Aporon, or Aporine, III. 291.
Aporus, insect, IX. 229.
Aposiopesis, in rhetoric, III. 291.
Aposphragisma, III. 291.
Apostasy, III. 291.
Apostle, III. 291—Acts of the Apostles,
II. 130.
Apostles’ Creed, III. 292.
Apostolic, III. 292.
Apostolical Fathers, III. 292.
APO—AQU
Apostolians, sect. III. 292.
Apostolici, or Apostolics, III. 293.
Apostolicum, III. 293.
Apostrophe, III. 293.
Aposura, insects, IX. 248.
Apotactit/k, or Apotactici, III. 293.
Apoteichismus, III. 293.
Apothecary, III. 293—police of apo¬
thecaries’ shops, XIV. 508.
Apothecaries’ Weight, III. 554—table of,
XXI. 850—grain in different coun¬
tries, 849.
Apotheosis, III. 293.
Apotome, III. 293.
Apotropje, III. 293.
Appalachian or Allegany Mountains.
See Allegany.
Apparatus, III. 293.
Apparent, III. 293—heir, ib.
Apparitions, III. 294.
Apparitor, III. 308.
Appaumee, in heraldry, III. 808.
Appeal, in law, III. 308 ; IX. 33.
Appellation, III. 308.
Appellative names, III. 308.
Appenzell, a Swiss canton, III. 308—
education in, XXI. 50.
Appert (Mons.), on the preservation of
food, IX. 731.
Appetite, III. 308 ; XVII. 626—effect
of custom on, VII. 559.
Appian, Roman historian, III. 309.
Appius Claudius, III. 309—his aque¬
duct, 317.
Applause, III. 309. See Approbation.
Apples, propagation of, XI. 634—cul¬
ture of, 648—ripening of, XXI. 584.
Apple-tree, structure of its trunk, III.
84—sp. gr. of its wood, XII. 27.
Appleby, in Westmoreland, III. 309.
Application, III. 309.
Appollonia, African kingdom, III. 309.
Appolonia, Italian town, III. 309.
Apposition, III. 309.
Appraiser, III. 309.
Apprehension, III. 310; XIV. 619.
Apprentice, III. 310.
Apprenticeship, III. 310.
Approaching, in fowling, III. 311.
Approbation, III. 311—love of, VIII.
449-50 ; XVII. 463—influence of love
of, in society, XIII. 134.
Appropriation, III. 311.
Approver, in law, III. 311.
Approximation, III. 311.
Appulse, in astronomy, III. 311.
Apricot, ovulum in the. III. 99—culture
of the, XI. 644.
Apries, king of Egypt, III. 311 ; VIII.
467.
April, III. 311—gardening operations
in, XI. 689.
Apron, in ship-building, III. 311 ; XX.
284—in gunnery, III. 312.
Apsis, III. 312.
Apt, in France, III. 312.
Aptenodytes, birds, XVI. 631.
Apteral, in architecture, III. 464.
Apteryx, bird, XVI. 616.
Apthane, III. 312.
Aptinus, insect, IX. 115.
Aptote, III. 312.
Apuleius (Lucius), III. 312 ; XVII. 413.
Apure, river, XVI. 537 ; XXL 592.
Apycni Suoni, in music, III. 312.
Apycnos, in music, III. 312.
Apyrexy, III. 312.
Apyrous, III. 312.
Aqua, III. 312 — Extincta—Fortis—
Marina—Regia—Seeunda—Tofana, ib.
Aquamboe, African kingdom, III. 315.
Aquapendente. See Fabricius.
Aquapim, African kingdom. III. 315.
Aquarians, III. 315.
Aquarius, zodiacal sign, III. 315.
Aquatint a engraving, III. 315; IX. 4 6.
Aqueducts, III. 317—Roman, XIX.
430. See Waterworks.
Aqueous humour of the eye, II. 799—in
different animals, III. 22.
Aquila, constellation, III. 323—Neapo¬
litan city, ib.—bird, XVI. 562.
Aquilariueoe, in botany, V. 127.
AQU—ARA
Aquilicium or Aquiliciana, III. 323.
Aquilus, colour, III. 323.
Aquiminarium, III. 323.
Aquinas (St Thomas), III. 323—doc¬
trines of, I. 309—comprehensiveness
of his mind, 310—extensive influence
of his ethical system, 312—Ins Au-
gustinianism, 418—on charity, 420—
on the power of the Pope, ib.—on co¬
medy, VIII. 158.
Aquino, Italian town, III. 323.
Ara, or Ara Thuribuli, III. 323.
Arabesque, III. 323 ; XVI. 706.
Arabia, III. 323 — climate of, 680—
months, VI. 662—expeditions of Me-
hemmed Ali and Ibrahim Pasha
against the Wahabis of, VIII. 499-
501—locusts in, IX. 193—horses of,
XI. 567; III. 327,683—inoculation for
the smallpox in, XII. 283—ancient in¬
scriptions in, 291—languages of, XIII.
83—mythology, XV. 680—ancient phi¬
losophy, XVII. 428—polygamy, XVIII.
312—scheichs, XIX. 680—weights and
measures, XXI. 851, 846.
Arabians, or Saracens, of the middle ages
—the first discoverers in Africa, II. 220
—the invention of algebra claimed by
them, 421—their conquest of Algiers,
503—fond of astrology, 531-2—anato¬
my little improved by them, 691—
science cultivated by them, 692—their
architecture, III. 378—astronomy, 734
—numeral digits, II. 7, 12—introduc¬
tion of these into Europe, III. 539, 540
—their chemical knowledge, VI. 342—
their dials, VII. 759—were the most
enlightened people during the middle
ages, VIII. 477—their attention to
geography, X. 396—were ignorant of
the compass, 527—their knowledge of
gunpowder, XI. 76—their conquests,
III. 686; XI. 480—their study of
mathematics, X. 427 ; XIV. 315, 316
—their art, XVI. 707—their know¬
ledge of anatomy and physiology,
XVII. 726 ; and of surgery, XX. 825.
See Saracens, Mahommed.
Arabic alphabet, II. 550—translations of
Aristotle, III. 495—bibles, IV. 616—
Mr Carlyle’s translations of Arabic
works, VI. 146—Casiri’s catalogue of
Arabic MSS. 214 — Edrisi’s Arabic
work on geography, VIII. 432—nota¬
tion, XIV. 315—language, XVII. 367 ;
its extent, 371; genius and character,
372 ; difficulty, ib. ; and utility, 383
—written characters, 37 0—oratory and
poetry, 372.
Arabs (Modern), III. 329—in Africa, II.
224, 225—in Barbary, IV. 364—in
Egypt, VIII. 520—in Nubia, XVI.
295—in Palestine, 748 — in Syria,
XXI. 63—their ballad literature, IV.
319 — thievish propensities of th*
Arabs, VII. 505, n.—slave-trade car¬
ried on by them, XX. 383.
Arabici, sect, III. 346.
Arabism, III. 346.
Aracaris, bird, XVI. 599.
Arachne, III. 346.
Arachnida, XVII. 587—structure of, 720.
Arachnidae poisonous, XIV. 507.
Arachnides, animals, III. 347.
Arachnoid membranes, III. 370 ; II.
812.
Arachnothera, birds, XVI. 589.
Arack. See Arrack.
Aradus, insect, IX. 197.
Araeometer, III. 370 — barometrical,
XII. 24.
Arseopagus, in Athens, IV. 128—court
of, 167; III. 479.
Arajostyle,in architecture, III. 372, 464.
Arajotics, in medicine, III. 372.
Arafah, III. 372.
Arafat (Mount), III. 372—pilgrimage
to, 338.
Arago (M.), recent discoveries of, in
magnetism, I. 029-30 ; XIII. 694, 699,
712, 738, 740—on chromatics, VI.
632, et seq.—on electro-magnetism,
VIII, 574? XXL 684, 686—his mi-
12
INDEX
ARA—ARC
crometer, XV. 19—on optics, XVI.
365, 421, 433, 437, 465, 473, 476, 497,
501—on polarization of light, XVIII.
225, 242-3—his experiments on the
force of steam, XX. 586.
Abagon, III. 373—Moorish kingdom of,
XX. 495—Christian kingdom of, 500.
Aragonite, in mineralogy, XV. 141.
Abahum, or Harahum, III. 374.
Abal, lake, III. 374, 697 ; XVII. 521.
Araliace®, in botany, V. 114.
Aramaean branch of the Caucasian race
of man, II. 709.
Abamont, French town, III. 374.
Aramus, bird, XVI. 618.
Aeanda de Doebo, III. 374.
Aranea, genus of arachnides, III. 359.
Abanjuez, Spanish town, III. 374.
Aranzi (J. C.), his anatomical discove¬
ries, II. 696.
Araponga, bird, XVI. 570.
Ababat, mountain. III. 374.
Abassi, III. 374.
Abateia, ancient festival, III. 374.
Aratinga, birds, XVI. 600.
Abates, general, III. 374—poet, ib.
Aeaucania, in Chili, III. 375.
Araucanians, II. 629—their character,
XX. 622; VI. 537—education, 536-
dress, 538—forts of defence against
them, 539—their wars with the Spa¬
niards, ib. 540.
Abausio, III. 375.
Abaw, Swiss town, III. 375.
Abbaces king of Media, III. 375, 717;
IV. 542; XVII. 259.
Arbalest or Cross-bow. See Cross-bow.
Abbe, in Illyria, III. 375.
Abbela, III. 375—battle of, XIII. 632.
Aebeeg, Swiss town, III. 375.
Abbiteb, in law, III. 375.
Abbitbaby, III. 37 5—punishment, ib.
Arbitration of Exchange, IX. 453.
Arblay (Madame d’), character of her
novels, XIX. 346.
Arboga, canal of, IV. 331.
Arbogastes, VII. 280; XIX. 419.
Abbois, French town, III. 375.
Abbon, III. 375.
Arbor vita;, XVII. 786.
Arboriculture. See Planting.
Akboub, in gardening, III. 375.
Arbroath, II. 25 ; IX. 746.
Aebceg, a Swiss town, III. 376.
Abbustum, III. 376.
Aebutiinot (Alexander), III. 376.
  (John), M.D., his share in the
work entitled Martinus Scriblerus, I.
242—estimate of his talents, 285—his
errors respecting ancient coins, XV.
398.
Arbutus, XVII. 786—its leaves used for
dyeing black, VIII. 329.
Abc (Joan of), III. 377. See Joan.
Arc, trisection of an, III. 131—measure¬
ment of terrestrial, IX. 552—meri¬
dional, XXI. 357, 361, n. 2—celestial,
358.
Area, in conchology, XV. 343.
Abcade, in architecture, III. 378, 462,
464.
Arcadia, X. 723.
Arcadian alphabet, II. pi, XIX.
Arcadius, Roman emperor, VII. 280 ;
XIX. 420.
Arcado, in conchology, XV. 343.
Arcanson, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Abcesieads, an ancient Greek philoso¬
pher, III. 378.
Abcu, III. 378—the Romans skilful
builders of the, 260—principle «f,
known to the Greeks, 414 ; but its
properties unknown, 417—invention
of the, ib.—first extensively used by
the Romans, ib., 418 — Gothic, by
whom invented ? 420—Saxon, 454—
Anglo-Norman, ib.—Pointed, 454, et
teq.—Lancet, 455—Roman triumphal
arches, 443, 451; XIX. 430—arch of
Titus, III. 461—definition of, 464—Mr
Atwood on the, IV. 188—equilibrium
of arches, V. 266; XIV. 395—arches
in brickwork, V. 668; XX. 376—old
ARC
Egyptian, XIV. 286, note 1—mode of
describing, 298—oblique, 299 ; XX.
375—perspective of, XVII. 283—Mr
Brunei’s brick arches, XX. 376—Mr
Green’s laminated arches, 377—via¬
duct arches, XXI. 638—how to con¬
struct the arch of equilibrium, 640—
arch of a circle, X. 438. See Aqueduct,
Bridge, Centre, Skew-Bridge.
Archaeology, III. 256—Spohn’s division
of, XII. 290.
Abch^us, III. 403 ; XVII. 594.
Archagathus, his African expedition, VI.
188.
 , Roman surgeon, XX. 823.
Aechangel, III. 396.
Abchbishop, III. 397—English archbi¬
shops, VIII. 788.
Aechbishopeic, III. 397.
Abchbotlee, III. 397.
Aechchambeblain, III. 397.
Aechciianceleob, III. 397.
Abchchanteb, III. 398.
Abchcount, III. 398.
Aechdeacon, III. 398—English arch¬
deacons, VIII. 788.
Abchdeuid, III. 398.
Aechduke, III. 398.
Archelaus, Athenian general, IV. 127.
 , king of Cappadocia, VI. 126.
 , Greek philosopher. III. 398.
 , king of Judea, III. 398 ; XII.
573.
 , Greek sculptor. III. 398.
  I., king of Macedon, XIII. 620
—his invitation to Socrates, XX. 441.
Abchena, Spanish town. III. 398.
Abcheks, III. 398.
Abciieey, III. 398; XI. 96—in England,
XVII. 113 ; XX. 300. See Bow.
Arches, court of, VII. 433.
Abchetype, III. 403.
Abcueus, III. 403; XVII. 594.
Aechiacolythtis, III. 403.
Abchiatee, or Archiatrus, III. 403.
Archidamus, IV. 156.
Abchidapifeb, III. 403.
Aechidona, Spanish city, HI. 403.
Abchiebosynes, HI. 403.
Abchigallus, III. 403.
Archigenes, Roman surgeon, XX. 824.
Aechigebontes, III. 403.
Abcuigebeenus, III. 403.
Abchil, dye-stuff, HI. 403; VIII. 309—
discovery of, 296.
Abchilochian, III. 403.
Akchilochus, Greek poet, III. 403.
Aechxmagus, HI. 404.
AECinilANDEITE, HI. 404.
Aechimedes, HI. 404; X. 425—his
contributions to mathematics, I. 435 ;
XIV. 314—discoveries in physics, I.
450—the first who applied mathema¬
tics to natural philosophy, 451—dis¬
covered some of the first principles of
hydrostatics, 480—extended notation
proposed by. III. 536—his planeta¬
rium, 730—his burning glasses, V.
727, 731 ; I. 506—on conic sections,
VII. 218, 219—on hydrodynamics,
XII. 1—his screw-engine, 101—on
mechanics, XIV. 349, 360—Moor’s
edition of his “ Areuarius,” XV. 448
—on the squaring of the circle, XX.
552, 554—on statics, 564—his defence
of Syracuse, XXI. 57—death of, 58.
Archimedes-screw steam-boat propeller,
XX. 691.
Abcuipelago, III. 405.
Abchipbesbyteb, or Archpriest, III.
405.
Aechisynagogos, III. 405.
Aechitect, III. 405—skilful architects
of the middle ages, 388.
Abchitectobe, III. 406—French aca¬
demy of, II. 75—Mexican, 623—Pe¬
ruvian, 624, 627—Chinese, 627 ; VI.
573—remains of Greek and Roman,
III. 260—its present state in Britain,
ib.—Egyptian, 262, 431 ; VIII. 530—
Nubian, XVI. 296—Hindoo, HI. 433;
XI. 408—Grecian, III. 434—Roman,
443—Italian,451—Pointed, 453—prin-
ARC—ARE
ciples of architectural composition,
459—glossary of terms, 464—Alison
on the beauty of Grecian, IV. 496—
Coulomb’s statical problems relating
to, VII. 425—improved by the Cru¬
sades, 494. See Arch, Building, Car¬
pentry, Chimney, Dome, Roof, &c.
 (Naval). See Shipbuilding.
Architrave, HI. 464—’Doric, 438, 450—
Ionic, 439, 449—Corinthian, 441, 448
—Caryatic, 441—in joinery, V. 689.
Abchitbiclincs, HI. 475.
Aechive, or Archives, III. 475.
Abchivist, HI. 475.
Archivolt, in architecture, III. 464.
Abchldte, or Arcileuto, III. 475.
Aechmarshae, III. 475.
Abchons, III. 475; IV. 143, 165.
Archontici, III. 475.
Archpriest, or Archpresbyter, III. 475.
Archytas, III. 510 ; X. 423; XVIII. 14
—his artificial flying dove, II. 177.
Arcis, battle of, X. 168.
 she Aube, III. 476.
Arco, HI. 476.
Arcole, battle of, X. 103 ; XV. 720.
Arcon (J. C. E. Le Michaud d’), a
French engineer, III. 476.
Arcona, town in Rugen, III. 476.
Areopagus, insect, IX. 187.
Arcos de la Fbonteba, a Spanish town,
III. 476.
Arcot, HI. 477—payment of the debts
of the nabob of, V. 435—Burke’s
speech on that subject, 715.
Arctic, III. 477—circle, ib.
  Regions. See Polar Seas.
Arctizite, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Arctomys, in zoology, XIV. 131.
Arctubus, a fixed star, III. 477.
Arcuata, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Arcueil, aqueduct of, III. 320.
Abcy (Patrick d’), III. 477—on overshot
wheels, XII. 84.
Ard (Loch), trout of, III. 144,
Ardamon, or Ardama, III. 47.
Abdatow, in Russia, HI. 477.
Ardea, bird, XVI. 618.
Abdebil, Persian town, III. 477.
Abdel an, Persian province, III. 478.
Aeden, HI. 478.
Ardenburg, III. 478.
Ardenne, forest, HI. 478.
Ardennes, HI. 478—canal of, XVI. 6.
Ardent spirits, in chemistry, VI. 487,
See Alcohol, Distillation, Brandy, &c.
Abdentes, HI. 478.
Aedes, French town, III. 478.
Ardfert, Irish town, HI. 478.
Abdoye, in the Netherlands, III. 478.
Ardeah, African town, HI. 478.
Ardbes, French town. III. 478.
Ardbossan, in Ayrshire, III. 478—har¬
bour of, IV. 259—canal to Glasgow,
X. 551; XVI. 13.
Ardsisch, in Wallachia, III. 478.
Abba, III. 478—areas of the conic sec¬
tions, VII. 258. See Mensui’ation,
XIV. 561.
Abebo, African town, III. 479.
Areca, sp. gr. of its juice, XII. 27.
Aremberg, German town, III. 479.
Arena, III. 479.
Arenaria, birds, XVI. 624.
Arenarii, ancient gladiators, III. 479.
Aeenabium, III. 479.
Arenicola, worm, XI. 219.
Arenicoli, insects, IX. 154.
Arensberg, in Westphalia, HI. 479.
Arensburg, in Livonia, III. 479.
Abenswald, in Pomerania, III. 479.
Arenz de Mar, Spanish town, HI.
479.
Areoda, insects, IX. 159.
Abeola, HI. 479.
Areometer, III. 370 — barometrical,
XII. 24.
Areopagus, III. 479; IV. 123, 167.
Ares, Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Aretjeus, a Greek physician, III. 479;
II. 688 ; XX. 823-4.
Arethusa, III. 479.
Areiin (Guido), musician. III. 479.
ARE—ARI
Aretin (Leonard and Francis), III. 480.
  (Peter), HI. 481.
Aretologi, HI. 481.
Arevalo, Spanish town, III. 481.
Arezzo, Italian city, III. 481.
Argali, in zoology, XIV. 165.
Argand gas-burners, X. 357.
Argand-lamp, XIII. 41—used in light¬
houses, XX. 19.
Argas, genus of arachnides. III. 368.
Argea, or Argoei, HI. 481.
Argelez, in France, III. 481.
Argences, French town, HI. 481.
Argent, III. 481—in heraldry, XI. 244.
Argentac, French town. III. 481.
Argentan, in France, III. 481.
Argentarius, HI. 481.
Argenteuil, French town. III. 481.
Argentiera, island, HI. 481.
Argentiere (L’), in France, III. 481.
Argentina, fish, XII. 212.
Argentines, III. 481.
Argenton, French town, HI. 481.
Argentum Album, III. 481—Dei, ib.
Argenville (Monsieur d’), on conchology,
XV. 331.
Argillaceous substances, phosphorescent
effects of electricity on, VIII. 634.
Argillite, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Argimna, town in Armenia, III. 482.
Argisch, HI. 482, 478.
Argo, HI. 482.
Argolis, in Greece, X. 723.
Argonauta, in conchology, XV. 344,
354.
Argonauts, III. 482.
Argos, III. 482.
Argostoli, in Cephalonia, XII. 341.
Arguin, African island, III. 482.
Arguments, in rhetoric, XIX. 205, «<
seq.
Argun, river, III. 482.
Argunskoi, in Siberia, III. 482.
Argus, HI. 482—bird, XVI. 610.
Argus-siiell, HI. 482.
Arguti.e, III. 482.
Argyle (earls, marquises, and dukes of),
IV. 44—earl of, in Charles I.’s reign,
V- 316, et seq ; defeated by Montrose
at Innerlochy, 327—condemnation of
the earl of, in Charles II.’s reign, 353 ;
his rebellion against James II., 356.
Argyleshire, HI. 482—fisheries of, IX.
602—vitrified fort in, 755—whirlpool
of Coryvreckan, VII. 382.
Argynnis, insect, IX. 241.
Argyraspides, III. 485.
Argyreyosus, fish, XII. 186.
Argyroneta, genus of arachnides, III.
359.
Arhizae, in botany, V. 53.
Ariadnjea, Greek festivals, III. 485.
Ariadne, daughter of Minos, III. 485.
Ariancoopan, in Hindostan, III. 485,
Ariano, Neapolitan city, III. 485.
Arians, HI. 485, 235—opposed by St
Ambrose, II. 601 — their opinions,
XII. 564.
Ariarthes, VI. 125.
Arias Montanus, a Spanish divine of
the 16th century. III. 486.
Aricia, worm, XI. 220.
Arioina, HI. ISO.
Aridmus, XIII. 640.
Arienzo, Neapolitan city, III. 486.
Aries, constellation, III. 486.
Arillus, in botany, III. 73 ; V. 50.
Arimanius, HI. 486.
Arinesc, in botany, V. 136.
Ariobarzanes, VI. 126; XVIII. 350.
Arioli, III. 486.
Arion, musician, III. 486—horse, ib.—
one of the mollusca, XV. 357.
Ariosto (Ludovico), III. 486 ; X. 295—
his poetry, XVIH. 144, 159—Hoole’s
translation of his Orlando Furioso,
XI. 557.
Aripo, Ceylonese town, III. 488.
Aristieus, son of Apollo, III. 488.
 , geometer, X. 424.
Aristander, soothsayer, III. 488.
Aristarchus, Greek philosopher, HI.
488—on astronomy, 730.
INDEX,
13
ARI—ARI
Aeistakchus, grammarian, III. 188.
Akistides the Just, III. 488 ; IV. 501.
 (iElius), Greek orator. III. 489.
 , Greek painter. III. 489 ; XVI.
701, 704.
Aristillus on astronomy. III. 730.
Aeistippcs of Cyrene, philosopher, III.
489 ; VII. 577.
Aeisto, stoic philosopher. III. 489.
Aristobulus, XII. 571.
Aristocracy, III. 489 ; X. 623.
Aristodemus, Greek antiquary, XII. 291.
Aristodicus of Cyme, XX. 457.
Abistogiton, III. 489 ; IV. 148.
Aristoloehieae, in botany, V. 128.
Aristonicus, XVII. 230.
Aristophanes, III. 489—his comedies,
VIII. 149—his ridicule and misrepre¬
sentation of Socrates, XX. 449.
Aristotelia, ancient feasts. III. 490.
Aristotle, III. 490—causes which ope¬
rated in undermining the authority
of, I. 16—by whom most powerfully
assailed, 25—on rhetoric, 54 ; III.
514; XIX. 200, et seq.—remarks on
his comparison of the mind in its first
state to a sheet of white paper, I. 364
—resemblance of Hume’s principles of
association to the views of, 427—his
definition of motion, 450; and of
light, 505—his views regarding the na¬
ture of light, 640—his anatomical
knowledge, II. 687—his astronomy,
III. 503, 729—his physical tenets,
499 ; IV. 384—possibly derived his
system of logic from India, V. 180-
high estimation of his works in the
middle ages, VII. 495—on dew, 748
—on the dramatic unities, VIII. 162,
174—his Natural History, III. 506,
508 ; XII. 151; XIV. 74 ; XVII. 725
—on comedy, XIII. 121—the prince
of logicians, 459—on mathematics,
III. 499—on mechanics, XIV. 349—
on metaphysics, HI. 499 ; XIV. 599
—on perception, III. 507 ; XIV. 604
—on matter, 643—on form, 644—on
motion, 657—on the soul, III, 506 ;
XIV. 686—on tragedy, XV. 446—on
optics, XVI. 348—on ornithology, 545
—compared with Newton, XVII. 435
—on physiognomy, 575 —on plastic
nature, 797—on the air, XVIII. 71—
on quality, 773—on quantity, 775—
his Analytics, III. 511 ; XIX. 106—
his Topics, XIX. .106—his Dialectic,
III. 508 ; VII. 756—his Poetics, III.
517—his Ethics, 518—his Politics, 525
—design of his philosophy, 529—style
of his writings, 530—his obscurity, ib.
—his method of discussion, 530—his
originality, 531—Socrates a precursor
of, XX. 468—his influence on medi¬
cine, 822—his opinions in Natural
Theology, XXI. 202—says little about
the tides, 260.
Aristotle’s philosophy, III. 494—Me-
lancthon’s sanction of, I. 16.
Aristoxencs, III. 531.
Arithmetic, III. 532—early systems of
notation, I. 586—origin of the denary
system generally referred to India,
587—advantages and gradual exten¬
sion of this system, ib.—decimal frac¬
tions introduced by Stevinus, ib.—
notation of decimals brought to its
utmost simplicity by Baron Napier,
ib.—Advantages and disadvantages of
the duodenary scale, ib.— perfect,
prime, and composite numbers, 588-
antiquity of magic squares, ib.—dif¬
ferent individuals by whom they were
constructed, ib.—continued fractions
much cultivated during the 18th cen¬
tury, 589—brought to perfection by
Euler, ib.—applications of the theory
by him, ib.—applied to the solution of
numerical equations by Lagrange, 500
—tables of the powers and products
of numbers made by Hervert, ib.—of
the Greeks, Romans, and Arabians,
II. 5, 6, 7, 21—proportion in, 438—of
sines, 485—alligation, or solution of
ARI—ARM
questions relating to the mixture of
ingredients, 526—binary, IV. 643—
Chinese knowledge of, VI. 575—dru-
idical knowledge of, VIII. 207—Na¬
pier’s rods, XV. 693—arithmetical
board for the blind, IV. 698. See
Number, Series, Addition, &c.
Arids, III. 567.
Ark (Noah’s), III. 567 ; VII. 693.
 of the Covenant, III. 568.
Arkansas, state-bonds of, XXI. 479.
Arklow, an Irish town, III. 568.
Arkwright (Sir Richard), III. 568 ;
X. 555—machines in the cotton-ma¬
nufacture invented by, VII. 400-402 ;
XX. 537—importance of his inven¬
tions, V. 429.
Arles, III. 571—canal of, XVI. 5.
Arm,human, XVII. 700—muscles of the,
IL 793—motions of the, 795.
Arm-bone, II. 786.
Armada (Spanish), III. 571; VIII. 757;
XVI. 113; XVII. 346; XX. 221,502
—partly wrecked in Ireland, XII. 365 ;
and on the Shetland Islands, XXI.
987—articles brought up by a diver
from sunk ships of the, VIII. 64.
Armadillo, animal, XIV. 143 ; V. 641.
Armageddon, III. 571.
Armagh, III. 571—battle of, XII. 365.
Armamaxi, III. 574.
Armatura, III. 574.
Armed neutrality of 1780, V. 415 ; VII.
723.
Armenia, III. 574—conquered by Alp
Arslan, II. 538.
Armenian alphabet, II. 549—language,
XIII. 90—works in that language, II.
549—bibles, IV. 616.
Armenians in Calcutta, V. 791.
 , era of the, VI. 661.
Armentieres, French town, III. 577.
Armiers, French town, III. 577.
Armiger, title, III. 577.
Armillary sphere, III. 577 ; X. 410.
Armilustrium, Roman feast, III. 577.
Arminians, III. 577 ; XI. 2—Dutch, 520
—deny predestination, XVIII. 515;
original sin, XXI. 221, et seq. ; and
the imputation of the sins of men to
Christ, 227 — their doctrine of uni¬
versal redemption, 228—their opinions
concerning justification, 231.
Arminius (James), III. 577.
 , an ancient German, X. 476.
Armistice, III. 577.
Armoisin, III. 577.
Armoric, III. 577.
Armory, III. 578.
Armour, III. 578—Roman, 592—of the
British life-guards, 620—of knights,
VI. 606, 614—for divers, VIII. 61.
Arms, III. 578—coats of, ib.; XI. 243
—of knights, VI. 606, 614.
Armstrong (John), M.D., III. 578—his
allusion to Burman, V. 720—poetry
of, XVIII. 173.
Armdyden, in Walcheren, III. 578.
Army, III. 579—Achaean, 588—Ameri¬
can, 616; XXI. 480—Athenian, III.
585—of Baden, 610—Austrian, 603 ;
IV. 233—Bavarian, III. 610; IV. 461
—Brazilian, V. 205—British, III. 616
—Burmese, IV. 245—Carthaginian,
III. 589—Chinese, VI. 575—Danish,
III. 609 ; VII. 729—of St Domingo,
VIII. 107—ancient and modern Egyp¬
tian, III. 580; VIII. 502—French,
III. 598 ; X. 204—of the Germanic
confederation. III. 611—ancient and
modern Greek, 584, 615—Hanove¬
rian, 610—Indian, XI. 463—Mace¬
donian, III. 586—of the middle ages,
595—modern, 596—Neapolitan, 612
—of the Netherlands, 611—ancient
Persian, 582—Portuguese, 602—Prus¬
sian, 605—Roman, 589; XIX. 379—
Russian, III. 606; XIX. 574—Sar¬
dinian, III. 612—Saxon, 609—of Sinde,
XX. 365—Spanish, III. 601 ; XX. 523
—Spartan, III. 585—Swedish, 609 —
Swiss, XXI. 47—Theban, III. 588-
Tuikish, 612; XXI. 424—of the Unit-
ARN—ARS
ed States, III. 616; XXI. 480—of
Whrtemberg, III. 610; XXI. 947—
continental armies in the eleventh
century, VIII. 712, n.—standing army,
IX. 23; discussions about, V. 456; ad¬
vantages of, XXI. 7 36—Mr Windham’s
act for the improvement of the, V. 520
—Lord Howick’s bill for religious
emancipation in the, 521—militia act,
526—royal prerogative in relation to
the, XVIII. 522—war-horse, XI. 592.
See War.
Arnall (William), III. 623.
Arnaud, III. 623.
Arnauld (Anthony), III. 623 — the
first who assailed the ideal theory,
I. 80—summary of his doctrine con¬
cerning ideas, ib.—merits of his trea¬
tise entitled “ The Art of Thinking,
or the Port-Royal Logic,” ib.—anec¬
dotes of his infancy and old age, 81.
Arnay-le-Duc, French town, HI. 623.
Arndt (John), German divine, III. 623.
Arne (Thomas Augustine), III. 623.
Arnee, in zoology, XIV. 168.
Arnheim (General), XXI. 17.
Arnhem, in the Netherlands, III. 623.
Arnisjecs (Henningus), III. 623.
Arno, XII. 485—vale of, XXL 432.
Arnobius, rhetorician, III. 624.
Arnold of Brescia, III. 624.
Arnold’s scapement, VI. 793.
Arnoldists, religious sect, III. 624.
Arnoldcs (Gothofredus), III. 624.
 de Villanova, his chemical know¬
ledge, VI. 344.
Arnolpho, III. 424.
Arnott’s stove, XX. 741.
Arnotta. See Anotta.
Arnstadt, in Germany, III. 624.
Arnstein, in Bavaria, III. 624.
Arnulph, bishop of Rochester, III. 624.
Arnway (John), III. 624.
Aroa, river, XXI. 591.
Aroideae, in botany, V. 136.
Aroma Philosophorum, III. 624.
Aromatic gum-resins, VI. 491.
Arona, an Italian town, III. 624.
Aronches, Portuguese town, III. 625.
Aroo, island, III. 625.
Arool, Russian town, III. 625.
Aroph, III. 625—Paracelsi, ib.
Arosbay, III. 625.
Aroun, XIX. 613.
Arocra, a Greek measure. III. 625.
Arpagius, or Harpagius, III. 625.
Arphaxad, son of Shem, III. 625.
Arpinas (Joseph Caesar), III. 625.
Arpino, Neapolitan city, III. 625.
Arqua, Italian town, III. 625.
Arques, town in Normandy, III. 625.
Arracan, III. 625—war in 1824, V. 567.
Arrack, III. 627 ; VI. 300 ; VIII. 44.
Arragon. See Aragon.
Arragorite, specific gravity of, XII. 27
—refraction of, XVI. 487.
Arraignment, in law, III. 627.
Arran, island, III. 627; V. 751.
Arras, in France, III. 627.
Array, in law, III. 628.
Arrayers, III. 628.
Arreca-nut of Ceylon, VI. 300.
Arrentation, III. 628.
Arreoys, III. 628; XVIII. 325.
Arrest, III. 629—of judgment, 630.
Arrestment, in law, III. 630.
Arrhabonarii, sect. III. 630.
Arrhephoria, Athenian feast, III. 61
Arrian, Roman historian, III. 630.
 , bird, XVI. 558.
Arriege, in France, III. 630.
Arrindy silk-worms, XX. 352.
Arris, in architecture, 111. 465.
Arroe, island, III. 630.
Arrogance not a usual accompaniment
of genius, XXI. 871.
Arrow, III. 630. See Archery.
 (Lough), XX. 392, 394.
Arrow-makers, HI. 630.
Arrowaucs, IV. 580.
Arrowroot, VI. 477.
Arroyo del Puerto, III. 630.
Arsaces, III. 630 ; XVII. 99, 260.
ARS—ARU
Arsacidae, Persian dynasty, XVII. 260.
Arsamas, in Russia, III. 630.
Arsaphes, Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Arsberger (Prof.), his experiments on
the force of steam, XX. 585.
Arschot (Duke of), XVI. 106.
Arsenal, III. 630.
Arsenic, VI. 382—native, XV. 164—its
alloy with antimony, VI. 386—salts of
white oxide of, 453—specific gravity
of, XII. 27 — poisoning with, XIV.
500 ; XVIII. 177—antidotes to, 181 
administration of, to horses, XXI.
625—sulpho-arseniates, VI. 457 .sui_
pho-arsenites, 458.
 acid, VI. 383; XV. 137.
   pyrites, a mineral, XV. 166.
Arseniet of potassium, VI. 394 • alu¬
minum, 399 ; glucinum, 399 / iron,
406 ; nickel, 409 ; cobalt, 410; lead,
413; copper, 416; gold, 421.
Arsenius, III. 630.
Arshot, III. 630.
Arsinoe, remains of, VIII. 545
Arson, III. 630 ; XII. 257; XIV. 495.
Arsura, III. 630.
Arta, or Larta, III. 630.
Artaba, ancient measure, III. 630.
Artabanus, XVII. 106.
Artabazes, XVIII. 348.
Artabazus, III. 631.
Artaxerxes, founder of the Sassanian dy¬
nasty, his revolt against the Par-
thians, XVII. 106, 261.
  Longimanus, XVII. 259.
  Memnon, XVII. 259.
Artaxias, III. 574.
Artedi (Peter), naturalist, III, 631—on
fishes, XII. 152.
Artemia salina, VII. 503.
Ahtemidorus of Ephesus, III. 631.
Artemisia, III. 631.
Artemisicm, promontory, III. 631.
Arteries, their structure, II. 716, 820 ;
XVII. 582, 638 — anatomical con¬
nections of the arterial system, H. 718
— generally accompanied in their
course by veins, 722; but not always,
623—early opinions respecting them,
787, et seq.—comparative anatomy of
the, III. 39—their action, XVII. 643
—aneurism of the, XX. 839.
Arthur, hero of the Britops, III. 681 ;
VIII. 721—Arthur’s Seat, III. 632—
Arthur’s Oven, VI. 177.
Articerus, insect, IX. 187.
Artichoke, culture of the, XI. 673-Je¬
rusalem artichoke, 670.
Articles, in grammar. III. 632; X. 643,
685—the thirty-nine, VII. 448.
Articulata, II. 706; XVII. 587, 679—
their organs of smell, III. 21—their
nervous system, 32—their structure,
172—characteristics and classes of
the, 179—comparative physiology of
the, XVII. 720.
Articulation of bones, II. 746, 756 ;
XVII. 603, 615, et seq.—of the spine,
II. 763; shoulder, elbow, wrist, and
fingers, 789 ; hip, 791 ; knee, 792 ; and
ankle, ib.
Artificer, III. 632.
Artificial, III. 632.
Artillery, III. 632—field, 633—siege,
637—garrison, 639—exercise of, 641—
Park, 643—Train, ib.—Company,ib.—
French, 600, 635-6—Spanish, 602—
!0. Austrian, 604, 635—Russian, 608—
Turkish, 614—British, 621, 632-
casting of cannon, VI. 84—foot-level,
XIII. 257. See Gunnery and Projec¬
tiles.
Artist, III. 643.
Artlenburg, in Hanover, III. G43.
Artocarpese, in botany, V. 129.
Artocarpus, V. 69.
Artotyrites, Christian sect, III. 643.
Arts (useful). III. 643—application of
voltaic electricity to the, XXI. 682.
Arts (fine), III. 645.
Artza, VII. 283.
Arueris, Egyptian deity, VIII. 552 ; XI.
320.
14
INDEX
ARU—ASI
Arum, effect of cookery on, IX. 735.
Arun river navigation, XYI. 8.
Arundel, town in Sussex, III. 658—
Portsmouth canal, XVI. 17.
 (Thomas), archbishop, III. 658.
Arundelian marbles, III. 659.
Aruspices, or Haruspices, III. 661.
Arvales Fratres, III. 658.
Arvicola, in zoology, XIV. 135.
Arvieux (Monsieur d’)> on Arabian
horses, III. 328.
Arvil Supper, III. 658.
Arviragus, III. 658.
Arx, III. 662.
Arya-Bhatta, algebraist, II. 425.
Arymbas, I. and II., kings of Epirus,
IX. 312.
Arytenoid cartilage, II. 805.
Arzachel, III. 735.
Arzew, a town in Algiers, III. 662.
Arzilla, an African town, III. 662.
As, an ancient weight, III. 662—Roman
coin, ib.; XIV. 471 ; XV. 397.
Asa, king of Judah, III. 662.
Asadaddin, VIII. 479.
Asaph (St), III. 662 ; IX. 622.
Asar-Addon, III. 662.
Asarota, III. 662.
Asbestinite, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Asbestos, II. 656 ; XII. 258 ; XV. 154—
specific gravity of, XII. 27—paper
made from, XVII. 10.
Ascalaphus, insect, IX. 212.
Ascalon, III. 662—battle of, XVI. 757.
Ascanius, son of iEneas, III. 662.
Ascaris, zoophyte, XXI. 997—in horses,
XXI. 627.
Ascendant, in astrology, III. 662.
Ascension of Christ, XXI. 229.
 day, III. 662.
 Island, III. 662.
Asceterium, III. 663.
Ascetics, III. 663; XI. 489-495.
Ascraffenburg, III. 663.
Asciiam (Roger), III. 663—on “ Morte d’
Arthur,” XIX. 328.
Aschendorf, in Hanover, III. 664.
Aschersleben, in Prussia, III. 664.
Ascia, insects, IX. 273.
Ascidia, molluscs, XV. 368—structure
of, XVII. 720.
Ascii, III. 664.
Ascit.*, sect, III. 664.
Ascites in cattle, XXI. 625.
Asclepia, festival, III. 664.
Asclepiad, III. 664.
Asclepiadese, in botany, V. 120.
Asclepiades, III. 664 ; XX. 821, 823.
Asclepiodorus, Greek painter, XVI. 704.
Ascodut,e, heretics, III. 664.
Ascoli, in Italy, III. 665.
Ascolia, Greek festival, III. 665.
Ascolino, X. 397.
Ascriptitii, III. 665.
Asdrubal, VI. 192, 195—defeated by the
Romans, 200, 201—Ids cruelties, 204,
206—suicide of his wife, 206.
Asellius (Gaspar),the lacteals discovered
by, II. 698, 728 ; XVII. 728.
Asfee, XIX. 609.
Ash timber, XVII. 780,783; XXI. 294—
used in coachmaking, VII. 6—specific
gravity of, XII. 27—trees, XVII. 783,
789-mountain-ash, 784.
Ash-Wednesday, III. 669.
Ashantee, in Africa, III. 665.
Ashbourn, in Derbyshire, III. 669.
Ashburton, III. 670.
 (Lord). See Dunning.
Ashby-de-la-Zouch, in Leicestershire,
III. 670—canal, XVI. 8.
Ashes, III. 670.
Ashford, in Kent, III. 670.
Ashkoko, an animal, XIV. 151.
Ashlar, III. 670—walls, V. 674.
Ashlering, III. 670.
Ashmed, IV. 280.
Ashmole (Elias), antiquary, III. 670.
Ashruff, Persian city, III. 671.
AsnTON-UNDER-LiNE,in Lancashire, III.
671—canal, XVI. 8.
Asia, III. 671—prevalence of castes in,
VI. 220—unoccupied land in, VIII.
ASI—ASS
687—trade with England, VIII. 779,
781—insects of, IX. 102—languages,
XIII. 72, etseq. 90 ; XVII. 379, et seq.
422—variation of the needle, XIII.
734-736—elevated plains, XVII. 501—
table-land, 502—heights of mountains,
505, 556—volcanoes, 512—course of
rivers, XIX. 252—serpents, XX. 136
—map of, III. PI. 77.
Asia Minor, III. 702; XXI. 418.
Asiarchas, III. 702.
Asilici, insects, IX. 268.
Asilus, insect, IX. 269.
Asinara, island, III. 702.
Asinius Pollio, III. 702.
Asirica, insects, IX. 203.
Asisio, or Asito, III. 702.
Ask (Robert), VIII. 747.
Askeaton, Irish town, III. 702.
Askeren, III. 702.
Askrig, in Yorkshire, III. 702.
Aslani, silver coin, III. 702.
Asmoneus, III. 702.
Asna, or Esna, in Egypt, III. 702.
Asola, Italian town, III. 702.
Asolo, Italian town, III. 702.
Asoph, III. 702.
Asp, serpent. III. 703.
Asparagin, VI. 470.
Asparagus, culture of, XI. 672.
Aspartic acid, VI. 431.
Aspasia, III. 703; XX. 437, 439, 448.
Aspasticum, III. 703.
Aspects, characters of abbreviations of,
VI. 323.
Aspen tree, XVII. 784.
Asper, III. 703.
Asperifoliate, in botany, III. 703.
Asperosa, Turkish town, III. 703.
Asphaltites, lake, III. 703; XVI. 745,
746; XVII. 522.
Asphaltum, III. 704; VI. 444 ; XV.
172; IV. 654 ; XVII. 751—specific
gravity of, XII. 27, 33—preservation
of timber with, XX. 274—lake of, in
Trinidad, XXI. 386.
Asphodelinese, in botany, V. 134.
Asphodelodians, VI. 189.
Asphurelata, III. 705.
Asphyxia from drowning, VIII. 201.
Aspic, serpent, XX. 154.
Aspicueta (Martin de), III. 705.
Aspidophorus, fish, XII. 174.
Aspirate, II. 547.
Aspistes, insect, IX. 264.
Aspredo, fish, XII. 203.
Aspro, fish, XII. 168.
Ass, XIV. 153—little used in agricul¬
ture, II. 340—Arabian wild, III. 329
—Asiatic, 683—of Hindustan, XI. 383
—milk of, VI. 499 ; XV. 76—organs
of voice, III. 28.
Assafoetida, VI. 490—sp. gr. of, XII. 27.
Assai, in music, III. 705.
Assam, an Asiatic kingdom, III. 705—
tea-plant in, XXI. 130.
Assarium, an ancient copper coin, III.
708 ; XIV. 470, et seq.
Assaro, Sicilian city, III. 709.
Assaron, III. 709.
Assassin, III. 709.
Assassination common in Zante, XII.
342 ; and in Java, 532.
Assault, in law, III. 709.
Assay, III. 709.
Assaying, III. 709—touch-needle, XXI.
340.
Assellota, Crustacea, VII. 503.
Asselyn (John), painter. III. 715.
Assembly, III. 715.
Assen, HI. 715.
Assende, III. 715.
Assenheim, in Germany, III. 715.
Assens, Danish town, III, 716.
Asser (John), III. 716.
Assessor, III. 716.
Assets, in law, III. 716.
Assheton (William), III. 716.
Assideans, HI. 716.
Assiento, HI. 716.
Assignation, in law, III. 716.
Assimilation, III. 716—in physiology,
XVII. 581, 618.
ASS—AST
Assin, African country, III. 716.
Assissi, Italian city, III. 716.
Assithment, HI. 716.
Assize, III. 716—of bread, IV. 188, 300.
Association, III. 716.
  of ideas, XIV. 617, 626; VII.
561 ; VIII. 435 ; XVII. 674—its power
in regard to avarice, &c., I. 366-68—in
connection with the sense of the beau¬
tiful, IV. 488, et seq.; XXI. 90—Con¬
dillac on, VII. 204—its influence on
dreams, VII:. 190—in connection with
instinct, XII. 297, et seq.—laws of,
XV. 481—Plato on, XVIII. 32.
Assodnagur, in Hindostan, III. 716.
Assoilzie, in law, III. 716.
Assonance, III. 716.
Assonant rhymes, III. 716.
Assouan, antiquities at, VIII. 532.
Assu, XIX. 245.
Assumpsit, in law, III. 716.
Assumption, festival, HI. 716—in logic,
ib.—islands, ib., 717—capital of Para¬
guay, ib.; XVII. 62.
Assumptive arms, in heraldry. III.
717.
Assurance, XII. 307. See Annuities,
Insurance.
Assye, in Hindostan, III. 717.
Assyn-Kalesi, in Caria, III. 717.
Assyria, III. 717—architecture of, 412
—Assyrian empire, III. 684—monar¬
chy, XV. 381.
Astabat, III. 718.
Astacus fluviatilis, VII. 502.
Astafort, French town, HI. 718.
Astanda, III. 718.
Astara, Persian town, III. 718.
Astarakat, Persian town, III. 718.
' Astaroth, or Ashtaroth, III. 718.
Astata, insects, IX. 230.
Astatic needle, XIII. 771.
Asteia, insects, IX. 290.
Astell (Mary), III. 718.
Astell’s Island, III. 718.
Asterabad, in Persia, III. 719.
Asteria, or star-stone, III. 718.
Asteriadse, zoophytes, XXI. 1012.
Asterias, structure of, XVII. 722.
Asterina, zoophytes, XXI. 1008.
Asterisk, III. 718.
Astern, sea-term, III. 718.
Asteroida, zoophytes, XXL 1022.
Asthma, XVII. 480, 490.
Asti, in Piedmont, HI. 718.
Astle on the Origin and Progress of
Writing, II. 546 ; IV. 622.
Astley (Mr), his mode of manufacturing
sal ammoniac, II. 663.
Astoma, genus of arachnides. III. 369.
Astomi, a fabulous people, III. 719.
Astor (J. J.), X. 264.
Astorga, Spanish city, III. 719.
Astoria, XVI. 525—Fort, X. 264.
Astrabad, in Persia, III. 719.
Astracan, III. 719 ; XIX. 535, 565.
Astrjea, III. 720.
Astragal, in architecture, III. 465.
Astrag lomancy, III. 720.
Astragalus, or heel-bone, II. 791, 792.
Astrapajus, insect, IX. 137.
Astrapia, birds, XVI. 588.
Astrodermus, fish, XII. 187.
Astrognosia, III. 720.
Astrolabe, HI. 720.
Astrolade, HI. 720.
Astrology, III. 720; IV. 370 ; VIII.
58—its extensive dominion over the
human mind, I. 484—taught in uni¬
versities, ib.—introduced into alma¬
nacs, II. 532—Babylonians addicted
to IV. 271—in Persia, XVII. 254.
Astronomy, III. 371—history of, ib.—
Theoretical, 754; IV. 1—Physical, 48
—Practical, 61—considerable progress
made in, by the ancients, I. 451, 481
—views rf those who first studied the
heavens, 481, 655—universally be¬
lieved by the ancients that the earth
formed the centre of the universe, 482
—introduction of the epicycle by Ap-
pollonius Pergseus, ib.—application
of the epicycles to explain phenomena,
ASTRONOMY.
by Hipparchus, ib.—other epicycles
introduced to explain the irregular
motions of the moon and planets, ib.
—the system of the heavens became
thus extremely complicated, ib.—ad¬
vantages which were derived from it,
483—the hypothesis of epicycles, and
centres of uniform motion, accommo¬
dated to the state of science, ib.—
dawn of a new era, Copernicus and
Tycho, 4 84—correction of Ptolemy’s
tables by Alphonso, king of Castile,
ib.—Purbach and Regiomontanus con¬
tributed much to the advancement of
the science, ib.—publication of Coper¬
nicus’s great work, Astronomia In-
staurata, containing the discovery of
the earth’s annual and diurnal mo¬
tion, 485—observations of theheavens
by Tycho Brahe, 486 ; see Brahe—
discoveries of Kepler; see Kepler—
discoveries of Galileo ; see Galileo—
evidence of the Copernican system de¬
veloped by the discoveries of Kepler
and Galileo, 492—beneficial results of
its being established, 493—Descartes’
theory of the universe ; see Descartes
—first complete system of astronomy
in which the elliptic orbits were in¬
troduced was the Astronomia Philo-
laiea of BullialJus, 495—hypothetical
views contained in that work, ib.—
contributions to the science by Hor-
rox, Ward, Riccioli, Hevelius, Hooke,
Cassini, and Roemer; see these heads
—first establishment of academies,
499—figure and magnitude of the
earth; see Figure of the Earth—disco¬
very of universal gravitation by New¬
ton, 554 ; see also Newton—refer¬
ences of the ancients to weight or
gravity, 557—clearer views of Coper¬
nicus and Kepler, 558—Galileo sup¬
posed that gravity was a principle be¬
longing to each of the planets indivi¬
dually, but did not extend from the
one to the other, ib.—near approxima¬
tion to the truth by Hooke, 559—
causes of irregularities in the motion
of the moon, 560—Newton’s deter¬
mination of the shape ofthe earth, 561
—discovery of the aberration of light
by Bradley, 569—Newton’s theory of
the moon, a work of genius almost
superhuman, 663—lunar theory first
expanded and improved by Calandrini,
ib.—completed by Dr Stewart and
Walmesley, 664—examination of the
subject by Clairaut, ib.—astronomical
discoveries of Mayer, 665 ; see also
Mayer—calculations and discoveries of
Euler regarding the motions of the
planets, 665-6—appearance of Halley’s
comet, and calculations of Clairaut
regarding its retardation, 667—size
and consistence of comets, and me¬
thods of discovering their orbits, 668
—notice of Lagrange’s discourse on
the librations of the moon, 669—re¬
searches of Lagrange and Laplace re¬
garding the planetary motions, ib.—
Laplace’s discovery of the moon’s se¬
cular equation, 670—Laplace’s com¬
plete theory of the motions of Jupi¬
ter’s satellites, ib.—description of ce¬
lestial refraction, and the solar and
lunar parallaxes, 671—discovery of a
new planet by Herschel, 672—disco¬
very of four small planets, 673—num¬
ber of stars which passed over Her-
schel’s field of view in a quarter of an
hour, ib.—speculations regarding the
celestial bodies and the constitution
of the universe, 674—various esti¬
mates of the number of comets within
the known extent of our system, 675
—observations on the earth’s internal
structure, ib.; on the limits of the at¬
mosphere, 676 ; on double and mul¬
tiple stars, 677—Aristotle on, III.
502—catalogues of the stars, VI. 238
—Chinese knowledge of, 57 5—Indian,
VII. 681—knowledge ofthe Druids in,
INDEX,
15
AST—ATH
VITI. 205; of the Chaldseans, XVII.
426 ; of the Brahmins, 427 ; of the
Egyptians, 429, 430—method of the
least squares, XVIII. C36—astrono¬
mical determination of the periodical
forces which act on the sea or on a
lake, XXI. 271. See Aberration, Ac¬
celeration, Comets, Dialling, Jupiter,
Venus, Sun, Moon, &c.
Astronomical instruments, IV. 61, 101
—Borda’s repeating circle, 798—Ca¬
vendish’s method of dividing, VI. 264.
See Quadrant, Telescope, &c.
 tables, IV. 62.
 Society of London, III. 753.
Astkttc (John), physician, IV. 111.
Astur, bird, XVI. 563.
Asturias, IV. 111—Moorish kingdom of,
XX. 494—Christian kingdom of, 500.
Astyages, king of the Medes, IV. 112 ;
VII. 577.
Astyanax, IV. 112.
Astynomi, IV. 112.
Asylum, IV. 112—Asylums for lunatics,
XIV. 586.
Asymetry, IV. 112.
Asymptote, IV. 112 ; VII. 244.
Asyndeton, in grammar, IV. 112.
Atacama, desert of, VI. 527.
Atalantis, IV. 130.
Ataulphus, XX. 492.
Ate, goddess of mischief, IV. 112.
Ateles, in zoology, XIV. 93.
Atellan fables, VIII. 152.
Atempo Giosto, in music, IV. 112.
Atergatis, IV. 112.
Ateste, Italian town, IV. 113.
Ateuchus, insect, IX. 153.
Ath, or Aeth, IV. 113.
Athalia, insects, IX. 217.
Athanaric, VII. 279.
AthanAsian Creed, IV. 113.
Athanasius (St), IV. 113—his opinion
of apparitions, III. 297.
Athanati, IV. 113.
Athapescow, river, VI. 63.
Atheism, XIV. 693 ; XVII. 797—pre¬
valent at Paris in the middle of the
18th century, I. 181—influence of, in
aggravating the atrocities of the
French Revolution, 182—immorality
of, XV. 479.
Atheists, IV. 113—sect of, called Hy-
lozoists, XII. 135.
Atheling, IV. 113.
Athelstan, king of England, IV. 113
—reign of, VIII. 703.
AthenjEum, IV. 113.
AthenjEos, grammarian, IV. 114.
Athenagoras, philosopher, IV. 114.
Athenians, their good taste and love of
the beautiful, III. 265—their charac¬
ter, IV. 162—their attachment to
the theatre, VIII. 146—circumstances
unfavourable to the production of
whimsical characters among them,
151—their invasion of Syracuse, XXI.
55.
Athenodorus, Stoic, IV. 114.
Athenry, Irish town, IV. 114.
Athens, IV. 114—Academy of, II. 65
—choragic monument of Lysicrates,
III. 416, 436, 442 5 of Thrasyllus,
436—Stuart and Revett’s Antiquities
of, 430—the Parthenon, 435—Propy-
Iseum, 436—army of, 585—captured
by Xerxes, IV. 151—rebuilt and for¬
tified, ib.—plague at, 155—captured
by the Spartans, 160 — cruelties of
the Thirty Tyrants at, VI. 735—dials
on the Tower of the Winds, VII. 758
—dials of Phajdrus, ib.—tragic writers
of, VIII. 148—comic writers, 149 —
Elgin marbles, 668 — punishment of
idleness at, XII. 243—coins of, XIV.
469—its condition in the time of So¬
crates, XX. 436.
 , in Georgia, X. 470.
Atherina, fish, XII. 192.
Atherix, insect, IX. 266.
Atheroma, IV. 129.
Atherospermete, in botany, V, 130,
Atherstone, in Warwickshire, IV, 129.
€
ATH—ATM
Atherton, in Lancashire, IV. 129—
battle of Atherton Moor, V. 325.
Atherura, in zoology, XIV. 139.
Athias, his Hebrew Bible, IV. 614.
Athlete, IV. 130.
Athlone, an Irish town, IV. 130 ; XXL
863; XIX. 480—taken by the English
in 1690, V. 364.
Athol, in Perthshire, IV. 130.
Athor, Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Athos, IV. 130 ; X. 722—ancient ma¬
nuscripts at, XIII. 288.
Athy, in Kildare, IV. 130; XII. 714.
Atienza, a Spanish town, IV. 130.
Atitan, lake, XL 17.
Atkins (Sir Robert), IV. 130.
Atkinson’s gig-mill, XXI. 934.
Atkyns (Richard), IV. 130.
Atlantic Ocean, IV. 130—currents
of the, XVII. 516—steam-navigation
across the, XX. 691.
Atlantis, IV. 130.
Atlas, king of Mauritania, IV. 131.
 , one of the vertebra;, II. 760—
its motions, 763.
 , mountains, IV. 131, 361; XIV.
330, 331 ; XV. 503.
 , book of maps, IV. 131.
Atmometeh, IV. 131; XIV. 738.
Atmosphere, IV. 132—discovery of its
elasticity, I. 481—experiments to as¬
certain its density at different heights,
613—sound transmitted by the, II.
110, 115—velocity of sound, XX.
482—theory of its navigation, II.
178—(iiminution of its temperature
at increasing heights, 193, 194—its
composition the same at great heights
as at the earth’s surface, 195—its re-
fringent power. III. 762—of the sun,
783—moon, IV. 5—Venus, 28 ; XVIII.
105 —Mars, IV. 29; XVIII. 105 —
Jupiter, XVIII. 105—and comets, ib.
—discovery of its pressure, IV. 386—
gradation of its density, 398—G.
Beccaria on its electricity, 507—
why warmest at its lowest parts, VI.
750—its capacity for heat at different
degrees of rarity, 750—circulation of
air between the poles and the equator,
7 58—air lost by water in the act of
freezing, VII. 61—quantity of, neces¬
sary for respiration, VIII. 59—re¬
markably dry and saline in Egypt, 514
—electricity of the, 614—no muriatic
acid in sea-air, IX. 433—resistance
of the, XI. 42, XVIII. 644—specific
gravity of, XII. 26—relations of air to
heat, XII. 114—mutual repulsion of
its particles, 120—air emitted by ve¬
getables, 275—magnetic condition of
the, XIII. 742, 753—^influence of its
purity and hygrometric state on health,
XIV. 511—its colour, 740 ; XVI. 510 ;
XVII. 530—its height, XIV. 719;
XVIII. 74, 102—its constitution,
XIV. 719—the variations of its local
weight unexplained, 721—new theory
proposed, 722—how affected by heat
and moisture, 7 21—law of atmospheric
solution, 733—quantity of moisture
held in the, 736—its extent, XV. 178
—moon’s influence on the, 442—un¬
usual refraction of the, XVI. 509—ef¬
fects of respiration on, XVII. 646—
mechanical properties of, XVIII. 69—
its necessity to animal life, 121—its
density and weight, XVII. 529 ; com¬
position, 530—aqueous vapour in the,
532—Otto Guericke’s experiments on
its pressure, XX. 622—effect of its
pressure on the level of the sea, XXI.
285—necessary to germination, 567—
changes on it thereby produced, 568
—food derived by plants from it, 571
— necessary to vegetation, 575 —
changes on it thereby produced, ib.—
577, 579-, 583, 584—whether on the
whole purified or deteriorated by
plants, 578—atmospheric air, in mi¬
neralogy, XV. 137. See Meteorology,
Pneumatics, Projectiles, Acoustics,
Climate, Cloud, Ventilation.
ATM—AUC
Atmospheric steam-engine, XX. 622.
Atom, IV. 138—the simplest extended
particle consists of four atoms, XX.
754.
Atomic theory, in chemistry, VI. 352.
Atomical Philosophy, IV. 139 ; XIV.
347—superior to any other conjecture
of the ancient philosophers, I. 71.
Atonement, the, VI. 623.
Atooi, island, IV. 139.
Atractocerus, insect, IX. 146.
Atrato, river, II. 651, 652; VII. 90;
XVI. 787; XXL 592.
Atrebatii, IV. 139.
Atreus, IV. 139.
Atri, Neapolitan town, IV. 139,
Atrienses, IV. 139.
Atrium, IV. 139.
Atrophy, IV. 139; XVII. 128.
Atropos, IV. 139.
Atta, insect, IX. 228.
Attachment, in law, IV. 139.
Attacotti, IV. 139 ; V. 296 ; VI. 2.
Attagenus, insect, IX. 149.
Attainder, IV. 139—corruption of
blood by, VII. 377.
Attak, an Aleutian island, II. 404.
Attains, XVII. 228, 230; XIX. 389.
Attelabides, insects, IX. 172.
Attelabus, insect, IX. 172.
Attention, IV. 139.
Attenuation, IV. 140.
Atterbury (Dr Francis), IV. 140—his
trial, 448—his share in .answering
Bentley’s work on the Epistles of Pha-
laris, IV. 576—his opinion of Bishop
Berkeley, IV. 585.
Attic dialect, XVII. 404.
 , in architecture, III. 453, 465.
Attica, IV. 142 ; X. 723—institution of
castes in, VI. 221—names of months,
654—mines of, XV. 242.
Atticus (Titus Pomponius), IV. 172.
Attigny, French town, IV. 173.
Attila, IV. 173 ; XL 733—his wars
with the Romans, XIX. 422.
Attiret (Frfere), VI. 585.
Attitudes of man, II. 795-6 ; XIV. 194
—of brutes, 195.
Attleborough, in Norfolk, IV. 173.
Attock, in Hindostan, IV. 173.
Attorney-at-Law, IV. 173.
Attorney-General, IV.173.
Attraction, IV. 173—attractire force
of adhesion, II. 151—chemical, VI.
356—capillary, 110; XII. 38—electric,
VIII. 575, 577, 586, 592—mutual, of
floating bodies, XII. 46—magnetic,
XIII. 702—of mountains, XIV. 278 ;
XV. 583. See Dynamics, Gravitation,
Tides.
Attribute, IV. 187.
Attributives, IV. 187.
Attruck, Persian river, IV. 187.
Attu, an Aleutian island, IV. 187.
Atwood (Geo.), IV. 187—on evaporation,
IX. 425—his machine for illustrating
the doctrines of accelerated and re¬
tarded motion, XIV. 450—his rule for
areas of curvilinear spaces, XX. 234.
Atychia, insects, IX. 244.
Atypus, genus of arachnides, III. 358.
Atys, VII. 474.
Aubagne, French town, IV. 188.
Aubaine, IV. 188.
Aube, in France, IV. 189.
Aubenton, French town, IV. 189.
Aubeterre, French town, IV. 189.
Aubigny, French town, IV. 189.
Aubin de Cormier (St), IV. 189.
Aubonne, in Switzerland, IV. 189.
Aubrey (John), IV. 189—his anecdotes
relative to Lord Bacon, I. 239-40.
Auburg, in Hanover, IV. 189.
Auburn, in Wiltshire, IV. 189—Ameri¬
can penitentiary, XVIII. 583, 587.
Aubusson, in France, IV. 189.
Audi, in France, IV. 189.
Auchenia, in zoology, XIV. 157.
Auchincass, ruins of, III. 195.
Auchterarder, IV.189.
Auchtermuchty, IV. 189.
Auckland (Lord), his opinion as to
AUC—AUR
whether all treaties are annulled by
war, V. 509.
Auckland (Bishop’s), in Durham, See
Bishop’s Auckland.
Auction, IV. 189.
Aude, in France, IV. 189.
Audeus, IV. 189.
Auditors, IV. 189, 190.
Auditorium, IV. 190.
Auditory nerve, II. 802.
Audley (Lord), at the battle of Poitiers,
VI. 604.
Audran, several engravers of that name,
IV. 190, 191—Gerard, 190; IX. 51.
Audubon (J. J.), his crayon paintings,
VII. 451—on American birds, XVI.
553, 595, 632, 634—on the turtle,
XIX. 129—on the alligator, 136, 137.
Auerbach, IV. 191.
Auerstadt, IV. 191—battle of, X. 143.
Aufidius (Cornelius), a blind author,
IV. 700.
Augeas, IV. 191.
Augite, XV. 153—its sp. gr., XII. 27.
Augre, IV. 191.
Augsburg, IV. 191; IV. 460—early
printing at, XVIII. 548.
 Confession, IV. 191 ; XIX. 90.
 -, treaty of, XIX. 93.
Augur, IV. 191, 257.
AucuRy, IV. 191. See Divination.
August, IV. 191—gardening operations
in, XI. 690.
Augusta, island, IV. 191—town in
Georgia, X. 470—in Maine, XIV. 44
—in Sicily, IV. 191 ; XV. 701.
Augustales, Roman priests, IV. 191.
Augustalia, festival, IV. 192.
AUGUSTALIS PRiEFECTUS, IV. 192.
Augustan age of Roman literature,
XVII. 412.
Augustan Confession. See Augsburg
Confession.
Augustenberg(Prince), XXL 28.
Augustenburg, IV. 192.
Augustin (St), archb. of Canterbury,
IV. 192—Christianity introduced into
England by, VIII. 701.
 of Venice, engraver, IX. 45.
Augustine (St), bishop of Hippo, IV.
192—on the freedom of the will, I.
267—genius and character of, 309—on
apparitions, III. 297—on beauty, IV.
484—on predestination, XVIIL 515
—original sin taught by, XXI. 219.
  (St), a town in Florida, IV. 192 .
IX. 627.
 , cape, IV. 192.
Augustins, order of, IV. 192.
Augustow, in Poland, IV. 192-3.
Augustus C.esar, IV. 193; XVI. 320 ;
reign of, XIX. 400—mausoleum of,
III. 447—register of the revenues and
expenses of the Roman empire be¬
queathed to the Senate by, XX. 567.
 , king of Poland, XIX. 543;
XXL 22, 23.
Auk, bird, XVI. 630.
Aula, IV. 193—regia, ib.
Aulacus, insect, IX. 218.
Aulastoma, worm, XL 226.
Aulcester, IV. 193.
Auldearn, battle of, V. 327.
Auldjo rMr), his ascent of Mont Blanc,
II. 563.
Auletes, IV. 193; VIII. 474.
Aulic, IV. 193.
Aulnage, II. 537.
Aulopus, fish, XII. 213.
Aulostoma, fish, XII. 197.
Aulps, French city, IV. 193.
Aulus Gellius. See Gellius.
Aumbry, IV. 193.
Aume, Dutch measure, IV. 193.
Auncel Weight, IV. 193.
Aune, French measure, IV. 193.
Aungervyle (Richard) IV. 193.
Aunis, in France, IV. 193.
Aurach, German town, IV. 194.
AuRjE, in mythology, IV. 194.
Auran, XVI. 517.
Aurantiaceoe, in botany, V. 101.
Auray, French town, IV. 194.
16
INDEX
AUH—AUX
Aurelia, IV. 194. See Chrysalis.
Aurelianus (Lucius Domitius), Roman
emperor, IV. 194—reign of, XIX.
412—his gold coinage, XIV. 477—his
expedition against Palmyra, XVI. 775.
Aurelius. See Antoninus Philosophus.
 Victor. See Victor.
Aureola, IV. 194.
Aureus, Roman coin, IV. 194; XV. 397.
Aurich, IV. 194.
Aurichalcum, XVI. 534.
Auricle of the ear, IV. 194 ; IT. 800.
Auricles of the heart, IV. 194 ; II. 818 ;
XVII. 637.
Auricola, in conchology, XV. 346.
Auricula, culture of, XI. 684.
Aurielamma, IV. 194.
Auriga, constellation, IV. 194.
Aurillac, in France, IV. 194.
Auriol’s Island, IV. 194.
Auriscalpium, IV. 194.
Aurochs, in zoology, XIV. 166.
Aurora, IV. 194.
 Australis, IV. 197.
 Island, IV. 194.
Aurora Borealis, IV. 194 ; XVII. 542
—electrical origin of, I. 623 ; VIII.
623 — its magnetic influence, XIII.
698, 740, 754.
Aurungabad, IV. 202.
Aurungzebe, III. 690—reign of, XI. 410.
Auschwitz, IV. 203.
Ausi, IV. 203.
Ausonian, IV. 203.
Ausonium mare, IV. 203.
Ausonius (Decimus Magnus), IV. 203.
Auspex, IV. 203.
Ausserhoden, IV. 203.
Auster, IV. 203.
Austerlitz, a town in Moravia, IV.
203—battle of, V. 520; X. 139.
Austin (Miss), her novels, XIX. 347.
 (St). See Augustin.
Austle (St), Cornish town, IV. 203.
Australasia, IV. 203—emigration to,
VIII. 688—map of, IV. PI. 103.
Australia, animals of, XVII. 551.
Austria, IV. 219—army of. III. 603—
Joseph II.’s plan of exchanging the
Austrian Netherlands for Bavaria, V.
437—designs of, against France in
1791, 461—mercantile policy of, VII.
165—cotton-manufacture, 419 — sta¬
tistics, IX. 415—trade with France,
X. 189—rate of interest, XII. 327—
legislation, XIII. 192 — coins, XV.
407, 409—heights of mountains of,
XVII. 506—wars with Prussia, XVIII.
673—penal law, 736—registration of
births &c., XIX. 103—religion, 315-
war with Sweden, XXI. 18—Austrian
rule in Switzerland, 43—war with
Turkey, 413—weights and measures,
851, 848, 849—map of, IV. PL 104.
Autharis, Lombard king, XIII. 465.
Authors, their copyright, VII. 313—
proposed remedies for the inadequacy
of their rewards, 316.
Autochthones, IV. 238.
Autocrator, IV. 238.
Auto-da-Fe, II. 129; XII. 289.
Autodidactus, IV. 239.
Autograph, IV. 239.
Autolithotomus, IV. 239.
Autolycus on astronomy, IV. 729.
Automatic actions of animals, XII. 297
—muscular motions, XVII. 677.
Automaton, IV. 238, 123.
Automolite, XV. 155—its specific gra¬
vity, XII. 27.
Autonomia, IV. 239.
Autoptros, IV. 239.
Autos Sacramentales, VIII. 155.
Autumn, IV. 239.
Autumnal Equinox—Point—Signs, IV.
239.
Autun, in France, IV. 239.
Auvernas, wine, IV. 239.
Auxerre, in France, IV. 239.
Auxesis, IV. 239.
Auxiliary, IV. 239.
 Verbs, IV. 239 ; X. 659, 692.
Auxinurus, fish, XII. 190.
AUX—AXI
Auxiron (Comte d’), his experiments
with steam-boats, XX. 687.
Auxis, fish, XII. 183.
Auxo, IV. 239.
Auxonne, French city, IV. 239.
Auzout’s micrometer, XV. 11—his pneu¬
matic experiment, XVIII. 72.
Ava, IV. 240; XVII. 172—language of,
XIII. 80.
Avadoutas, IV. 249.
Aval. See Bahrein.
Avalanches, IV. 249—in the Alps, II.
560—in Caucasus, VI. 250—not found
among the Andes, III. 118.
Avallon, IV. 249.
Avarice not a principle of human na¬
ture, I. 366—a vice of the Duke of
Marlborough, VI. 688—whether in¬
nate, XII. 303.
Aveiro, IV. 249.
Aveiron, or Aveyron, IV. 249.
Avelghem, IV.249.
Avella, Neapolitan town, IV. 249.
Avellino, Neapolitan town, IV. 249.
Ave-Maria, IV. 250.
Avenches, in Switzerland, IV. 250.
Avenor, IV.250.
Aventine (John), IV. 250.
Aventinus Mons, in Rome, IV. 250;
XIX. 424, 426.
Aventurine, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Avenue, IV. 250.
Avenwedde, IV. 250.
Avenzoar, Arabian physician, IV. 250
—his surgical skill, XX. 826.
Average, IV. 251.
Avernes, or Avesnes, IV. 254.
Avernus, now Averno, lake, IV. 254 ;
XV. 698 ; XVII. 523.
Averroes, IV. 254; III. 735; XX. 827.
Averroists, IV. 255.
Averrunci Dei, IV. 255.
Aversa, Italian town, IV. 255.
Aversion, XV. 466.
Ayes, a Carribbee island, IV. 255—
birds, XVII. 586.
Avesbury (Robert), IV. 255.
Aveyron, or Aveiron, IV. 249.
Avezzano, Neapolitan town, IV. 255.
Aviary, IV. 255.
Avicenna, Arabian physician, IV. 255;
XIII. 292—on anatomy, XVII. 726—
his surgical skill, XX. 826.
Avicula, in conchology, XV. 344, 373.
Avicularis, in conchology, XV. 343.
Avigliano, Italian town, IV. 255.
Avignon, in France, IV. 255.
Avigny, French town, IV. 189.
Avila, in Spain, IV. 256.
Avio, Tyrolese town, IV. 256.
Avis, Portuguese town, IV. 256.
Avison (Charles), IV. 256.
Avisse, a blind author, IV. 701.
Avitus, Roman emperor, XIX. 423.
Avlona, in Turkey, IV. 256.
Avocet, bird, XVI. 626.
Avoirdupois weight, IV. 256, 544—
origin of the name, XXI. 849—table
of, 850.
Avola, in Sicily, IV. 256 ; XV. 702.
Avon, river in Warwickshire, its naviga¬
tion, XVI. 8.
 , river in Somersetshire, XX. 475.
 , river in Hampshire, its naviga¬
tion, XVI. 8.
Avranches, in France, IV. 256.
Avravanel (Isaac), II. 41.
Avsta, Swedish village, IV. 256.
Awa, in Japan, IV. 256.
Award, in law, IV. 256.
Awasi, Japanese island, IV. 256.
Awe (Loch), trout of, III. 142.
Awl, IV. 256.
Awme, Dutch measure, IV. 256.
Ax, IV. 256.
Axamenta, IV. 256.
Axan, VII. 285.
Axbridge, in Somerset, IV. 257.
Axe, river in Somersetshire, XX. 475
—its navigation, XVI. 8.
Axel, IV. 257.
Axholm, island, IV. 257.
Axilla, IV. 257.
AXI—BAB
Axillary, IV. 257.
Axim, African territory, IV. 257.
Axinite, in mineralogy, XV. 158—its
pyro-electricity, VIII. 598—its speci¬
fic gravity, XII. 27.
Axinomancy, IV. 257.
Axiom, IV. 257; XIII. 444, 453—geo¬
metrical axioms, X. 433, 434.
Axis, in geometry, &e., IV. 257—in
zoology, XIV. 161—one of the verte¬
brae, IV. 760. See Rotation, XIX. 490.
Axles, friction of, XIV. 412—strength
of, XX. 778—wheel and axle, XIV.
636.
Axminster, in Devonshire, IV. 257.
Axolotus, reptile, XIX. 161.
Axum, II. 51, 231—ruins of, 55, 57.
Axungia, IV. 257.
Ay, or Ai, French town, IV. 257.
Ayacucho, battle of, XVII. 299.
Ayamonte, Spanish town, IV. 257.
Aye-aye, an animal, XIV. 131.
Aylesbury, in Buckinghamshire. IV.
258 ; II. 365—vale of, V. 634.
Aylsham, in Norfolk, IV. 258.
Aymargues, French city, IV. 258.
Ayora, Spanish town, IV. 258.
Ayr, town, IV. 258—river, 259.
 (Newton-upon), IV. 258.
Ayraines, French town, IV. 260.
Ayres (Sir John), VI. 616.
Ayrshire, IV. 259—cheese, VII. 591.
Ayry of hawks, IV. 260.
Ayscue (Sir George), IV. 260 ; V. 343.
Ayton, in Berwickshire, IV. 261.
Azafi, XIX. 609.
Az amor, a sea-port in Morocco, IV. 2 61;
XV. 506.
Azariah, king of Judah, IV. 261.
Azazel, IV. 261; XIX. 674.
Azeitao, Portuguese town, IV. 261.
Azerbijan, in Persia, IV. 261.
Azimuth, IV. 261; III. 754—calcula¬
tion of azimuths in the trigonometrical
survey, XXI. 368.
—  compass, IV. 261 ; XIII. 765.
 dial, VII. 776.
 and altitude circle, IV. 109, 261.
Azoga ships, IV. 261.
Azoni, IV. 262.
Azoph, IV. 262—sea of, 659.
Azores, islands, IV. 262.
Azote, or nitrogen. See Nitrogen.
Azotus, in Palestine, XVI. 741.
Azpilcueta (Martin de), III. 705.
Azrek (Bahr el), II. 239.
Aztecks, II. 622, 623, 635.
Azuero (Dr), VII. 107.
Azulmic acid, VI. 436.
Azure, in heraldry, XI. 244.
Azure-spar, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Azure-stone, specific gravity of, XII.
27.
Azzara, (J. F. N. de), IV. 264, on the
vampire, XIV. 101—on natural his¬
tory, XVI. 552.
B
B, letter of the alphabet, IV. 264.
Baal, IV. 265.
Baal-berith, IV. 265.
Baal-peor, IV. 265.
Baal-zebub, IV. 265.
Baasa, IX. 378.
Babatag, Turkish city, IV. 265.
Babbage (Charles), misled by a table in
Morgan’s work on Life Assurance,
III. 201—his work on institutions for
life assurance, ib.—on magnetism,
XIII. 694, 713—his calculating ma¬
chine, XIV. 354—his mechanical no¬
tation, 444—on hot-blast iron-smelt¬
ing, XX. 411.
Babel, IV. 265—confusion of tongues,
at, VII. 213; XVII. 355.
Babelmandel, strait of, IV. 265.
BABENHAUSEN,in Bavaria, IV. 266.
Baber, island, IV. 266.
 , sultan, III. 690 ; XI. 409.
Babiacora, Mexican town, XIV. 818.
BAB—BAG
Babington (Gervase), IV. 266.
Babington’s conspiracy, XIX. 742.
Baboons, XIV. 93.
Babraham, VI. 34,
Babrius, XXL 443.
Babuyanes, islands, IV. 266.
Babylon, IV. 266—ruins of, III. 412-
history of, 684—gardens of, X. 319—
Jewish captivity at, XII. 568—Jewish
archate of, 576—taken by Alexander,
XIII. 632—paintings at, XVI. 693—
bricks of, XVIII. 537.
Babylonia, or Chahtea, IV. 270 ; XI.
472.
Babylonians. See Chaldseans.
Babylonica Texta, IV. 271.
Babyrussa, in zoology, XIV. 149.
Baccha, insect, IX. 273.
Bacch.se, priestesses, IV. 271.
Bacchanalia ancient feasts, IV. 271.
Bacchanalians, XV. 665.
Bacchic, IV. 271—song, ib.
Bacchius, ancient author, IV. 271.
Bacchus (Egyptian), IV. 272; XVI.
654—mysteries of, XV. 663.
  (Grecian), IV. 272 ; XV. 665,
668—mysteries of, 665—statue of,
VIII. PI. 194.
Bacchylides, Greek poet, IV. 272.
Baccio, or Baccius (Andrew), IV. 272.
 (Fra. Bartolomeo', IV. 272.
Bach A, in Germany, IV. 272.
Bache (Professor), his steam-engine
alarm, XX. 682.
Bachelier (Monsieur), on encaustic paint¬
ing, VIII. 694.
Bachelors, IV. 272—taxed in Rome,
II. 196—degree of bachelor, IV. 272;
XXL 487, 498, 504.
Bachelor-knights, IV. 272 ; VI. 610.
Bachhoffner’s voltaic battery, XXI.
672.
Bachian, island, IV. 272.
Bachmut, in Russia, IV. 272.
Back (Captain), on the magnetic influ¬
ence of the aurora, XIII. 669, 741,
742 — his arctic expedition of disco¬
very, XVIII. 222.
Backer, or Bakker (Jacob), IV. 275.
Backergunge, in Bengal, IV. 275.
Backgammon, IV. 272
Backhinc, V. 768.
Backing the sails, IV. 275.
Backschisarai, in Russia, IV. 275.
Backwater navigation, XVI. 4.
Bacon, curing of, II. 339 : VIII. 262.
  (Francis), Baron of Verulam,
XXI. 605—his philosophy, XVII. 433,
572—his outline of the various depart¬
ments of human knowledge imperfect,
I. 1-3—objections to his classification
of the sciences and arts according to
a logical division of our faculties, 5, 6
—his attempt to accomplish this, how¬
ever, productive of great advantages
to science, 7—his comprehensiveness
of mind, ib.—his opinion of Paracel¬
sus, 18—his genius peculiarly adapted
to the study of the phenomena of
mind, 32—his definition of poetry, 33
—general comprehensiveness of his
hints and reflections relative to the
philosophy of the mind, and its rela¬
tion to matter, ib.—on the reciprocal
influence of thought and language, 34
—profound reflections of, on grammar,
ib.—his ethical disquisitions generally
of a practical nature, 33—his opinion
that the faculties of man have de¬
clined as the world has grown older,
erroneous, ib.—character of his Es¬
says, 36—on philosophical jurispru¬
dence, ib.—on “ deep and vulgar laws,”
ib.—paramount importance attached
by, to the education of the people, 38
—character of, by Ben Johnson and
others, 239-40—Condorcet’s estimate
of his powers, 56—his works little
read in France till after the publica¬
tion of D’Alembert’s preliminary dis¬
course, ib.—on human reason, 58—
his admiration of the Epicurean phy¬
sics, 71 —analysis of his Novum Orga-
INDEX
17
BAC—BAD
non, 454, 470, et seq,—low state of
physics in the time of, ib.—on the
causes of vagueness and sterility in
all the physical sciences, ib.—causes
of error enumerated under four heads
called “ Idols,” 455-6—does not charge
the ancients with being absolutely re¬
gardless of experiment, 456—reduces
the periods during which science had
been cultivated, to that of the Greeks,
that of the Romans, and that of the
western nations after the revival of
letters, ib.—considers the end and ob¬
ject of knowledge to have been very
much mistaken, 457—exemplification
of the nature of induction, 458 —
classes all learning relatively to me¬
mory, reason, and imagination, ib.—
distribution of knowledge under these
heads, 459—explanation of the latent
process, and the latent schematism,
ib.—method of exemplifying the pro¬
cess of induction relative to the form
or cause of anything, 460—intended
that his method should be applied to
all investigations where experience is
the guide, ib.—all facts not of equal
value in the discovery of truth, 461—
enumeration of twenty-seven different
species of facts, or instantice, with ex¬
amples of these, 461-6 — quotation
from, on those experiments which
most immediately tend to improve art
by extending science, 467—remarks
on the philosophical instruments then
known, ib.—sagacious anticipation of
facts regarding light afterwards dis¬
covered, quoted, ib.—general estimate
of his genius, 468—Hume’s compari¬
son between him and Galileo, 469
—qualities in which he excelled Ga¬
lileo, as well as all mankind, 470-
views of, regarding the nature of neat,
640—his confused ideas on aeronau¬
tics, II. 180—on the nourishment of
plants and animals, III. 166—his phi¬
losophy compared with Aristotle’s,
496-7, 509—treats Aristotle unjustly,
514—on the balance of power, IV.
309, 311—on bodily deformity, VII.
674, 676—on the compressibility of
water, XII. 9—on law-reform, XIII.
189—on insanity, XIV. 579—on elo¬
quence, XIX. 212—not free from su¬
perstition, XX. 812.
  (John), IV. 276—character of
his sculpture, XX. 9.
 (Sir Nicholas),IV. 275.
(Roger), IV. 275—his claim to
the respect of posterity, I. 454—pur¬
sued the true philosophy amidst ig¬
norance and error, 507—advancement
made by, in optics, ib.; XIII. 329 ;
XVI. 351—probable that he made ex¬
periments with lenses, and knew their
properties, I. 507—his inclination to
the marvellous, 508—on the art of
flying, II. 177—ignorant of theAlenary
numerals, III. 541—not the inventor
of gunpowder, ib., n. 1; XI. 76—on
astronomy, III. 736—his chemical
and other knowledge, VI. 343.
Baconthorp (John), IV. 277.
Bactria, or Bactriana, IV. 277.
Bactroperata, IV. 277.
Bacularius, IV. 275.
JSacule, in fortification, IV. 277.
Baculites, in conchology, XV. 345.
Badajoz, IV. 277—siege of, V. 530,
532; IX. 778, n.
Badakshan, or Buducshan, IV. 277.
Badalona, in Spain, IV. 277.
Baden, X. 489—army of, III. 610-
coins of, X\. 409—weights and mea¬
sures of, XXI. 852.
  , or Baden-Baden, IV. 277.
 -, Swiss town, IV. 277.
 , Austrian town, IV. 278.
Badenoch, IV. 278 ; XII. 334.
Badens (Francis), painter, IV. 278.
Baden-Weiller, IV. 278.
Badger, XIV. 107—its power of resist¬
ing starvation, III. 167.
BAD—BAJ
Badia (Senor), his travels in Egypt,
VIII. 557.
Badiboo, XX. 94.
Badile (Antonio), painter, IV. 278.
Badister, insect, IX. 128.
Badius (Josse), printer, IV. 278.
Badku, IV. 302.
B^tica, in Spain, IV. 278; XX. 491.
B^ettha, IV. 278.
B.eza, Spanish town, IV. 278.
 (Becerra de), painter, XVI. 722.
Baffin (Wm.), his voyages of discovery,
X. 757 ; XVIII. 218.
Baffin’s Bat, IV. 278 ; XVII. 521.
Baffo, town in Cyprus, IV. 278.
Bagdad, IV. 278 ; VIII. 479—culti¬
vation of science at, under Alma-
mon, II.^ 531; III. 731—caliphs of,
III. 686.
Bage (Robert), his novels, XIX. 345.
Baglana, in Hindostan, IV. 281.
Baglivi (George), physician, IV. 281.
Bagmutty, river, IV. 281.
Bagnara, Neapolitan city, IV. 281.
Bagnarea, Italian town, IV. 281.
Bagneres, in France, IV. 281.
Bagnialack, Turkish town, IV. 281.
Bagnolas, French town, IV. 281.
Bagnoli, Neapolitan city, IV. 281.
Bagnolians, heretics, IV. 281.
Bagnolo, Sardinian city, IV. 281.
Bagous, insect, IX. 174.
Bagpipe, IV. 281.
Bagrus, fish, XII. 202.
Bahamas, islands, IV. 282.
Bahar, in Hindostan, IV. 283.
Bahia, province, XIX. 627 ; V. 195-
climate of, V. 200—population, 202
—productions, 206.
 , town, foundation of, V. 190—
taken by the Dutch, 191—commerce
of, 210.
Bahir, IV. 284.
Bahlingen, in Wirtemberg, IV. 284.
Bahr-bilama, VIII. 518..
Bahr-el-Abiad, II. 36, 239 ; VIII. 512;
XVI. 225.
Bahr-el-Azrek, XVI. 227.
Bahrein, islands, IV. 284.
Bahry, town in Hindostan, IV. 284.
Bauds, Swedish town, IV. 284.
Baia?, IV. 284; XV. 698, 709.
Baihingen, in Wirtemberg, IV. 285.
Baikal, lake, IV. 285; XVII. 521;
XIX. 586—mineral tallow found at,
VI. 444.
 , mountains of, XX. 326.
Bail, in law,'IV. 285.
Bailey (Mr), of Chillingham, his drill-
machine, II. 267.
Bailiff, or Bailie, IV. 285.
Bailii (David), painter, IV. 285.
Bailiwick, IV. 286.
Baillet (Adrian), IV. 286—on pseu¬
donymous books, 627.
Bailledl, French town, IV. 286.
Baillie (Colonel), XI. 423.
  — (General), defeated by the Mar¬
quis of Montrose, V. 327.
 (Joanna), her plays, VIII. 178.
 (Robert), IV. 286.
Bailly (Jean Sylvain), IV. 289—his
estimate of Leibnitz’s character, I.
262—on Hindoo astronomy, II. 426 ;
III. 726—on the motions of the fixed
stars, IV. 45—on animal magnetism,
XIV. 15.
Bailment, IV. 291.
Baily (Mr), on life annuities and as¬
surances, III. 200—on the pendulum,
IX. 572; XVII. 206.
Bainbridge (Dr John), IV. 291.
 (Mr), on angling, III. 137, et seq.
Bairactar, XXI. 416.
Bairedth, in Bavaria, IV. 291.
Bairodt, Syrian town, IV. 291; VI. 717.
Bait-fishing, III. 134—for trout, 141.
Baiting, IV. 292.
Bajaluka, Turkish city, IV. 292.
Bajarotos, Spanish town, IV. 292.
Bajazet I., sultan of the Turks, IV.
284 ; VII. 289—his reign, XXI. 411.
 II., sultan, his reign, XXI. 412.
BAJ—BAL
Bajazid, IV. 465.
Bajulus, IV. 292.
Bakel, XX. 94.
Baker (Sir Richard), IV. 292.
 (Henry), IV. 293.
 (Thomas), IV. 292.
 (David Erskine), IV. 294.
   (Mr), on animalcules, III. 186,
189.
- 1 (Capt. H. C.), his experiments
on the elasticity and strength of tim¬
ber, XXI. 300.
Bakers, IV. 294—diseases of, XIV. 510
—Roman, XV. 77.
Bakewell, in Derbyshire, IV. 294 
chalybeate spring at, VII. 736.
(Robert), IV. 294—his improve¬
ment of live-stock, II. 263—recom¬
mends breeding in and in, 331.
Baking, IV. 294—of pottery, XVIII.
437, 501.
Baktchi-serai, VII. 472.
Baku, or Badku, IV. 302.
Balaam, IV. 303.
Balachna, in Russia, IV. 303.
Balacklava, IV. 661 ; VII. 473.
Baladan, king of Babylon, IV. 303.
Balsena, in zoology, XIV. 185.
Balaghadt Ceded Districts, IV. 303.
Balagny, VI. 616.
Balagder, Spanish city, IV. 303.
Balaklava, IV. 661; VII. 473.
Balambangan, island, IV. 303.
Balambdan, town in Java, IV. 303.
Balance, IV. 303 ; XIV. 370—statical,
IV. 388—electrical, VIII. 660—tor¬
sion, 586 ; XIII. 688 ; XIV. 401—
Coulomb’s magnetic, XIII. 724—
Bate’s, XIV. 456—Dr Black’s, ib.—
history of the, XXI. 835—various
kinds described, 837, et seq.—self-ad¬
justing, 838. See Equilibrium, Weigh¬
ing-machines.
 , in watch-work, VI. 767—theory
of the, 798—expansion-balance, ib.—
Hardy’s compensation-balance, 799—
banking the balance, ib.—polarity of
steel-balances, 800.
 of a constitution, VIII. 407.
  of Power, IV. 308 ; V. 459,
507 ; XXI. 65—Mr Fox on, V, 447.
 of trade, errors respecting, IX.
447.
Balance-pump, XII. 99.
Balance-thermometer, XXL 240.
Balaninus, insect, IX. 174.
Balanbphoreae, in botany, V. 132.
Balanus, in conchology, XV. 340.
Balard, (Mons.), of Montpellier, disco¬
very of bromine by, VI. 361.
Balason handkerchiefs, British manu¬
facture of, VII. 408.
Balasore, in Hindostan, IV. 313.
Balausta, in botany, V. 49.
Balayan, in Manilla, IV. 313.
Balbec, IV. 313—ruins of, III. 444.
Balboa (Nunez de), XVII. 294.
Balbriggen, IV. 315; VIII. 234.
Balcarce (General), IV. 756.
Balcarry, Scotch sea-port, IV. 315.
Balconies, III. 462.
Baldinger (Ernest Godfrey), IV. 315.
Baldindcci (Philip), IV. 315.
Baldock, in Hertfordshire, IV. 315.
   (Ralph de), IV. 315.
Baldwin, count of Flanders, Constanti¬
nople taken by, VII. 486.
 , emperor of the East, VII. 287.
  I., II., III., and IV., kings of
Palestine, XVI. 756.
 , archbishop of Canterbury, IV.
315.
Bale (John), bishop of Ossory, IV. 316.
Balearic Islands, IV. 316—slingers of
the, XX. 395.
Balen (Hendrick Van), IV. 316.
Bales (Peter), IV. 317.
Baley (Walter), IV. 317.
Balfour (Sir James), his “ Practicks,”
XX. 373.
Balfron, in Stirlingshire, IV. 317.
Balfroosh, Persian town, IV. 317.
Balgut (John and Thomas), IV. 317.
BAL—BAN
Balharry, in Hindostan, IV. 317.
Bali, island, IV. 318.
Balinderry, in Ireland, IV. 318.
Salinger, XX. 217.
Baliol (Sir John de), IV. 318.
 (John), XIX. 708.
Balistes, fish, XII. 229.
Balize, XI. 551.
Balk, or Bulk, IV. 318.
Balkan, XXL 418.
Ball, printers’, XVIII. 562, 563.
Ballad, IV. 319—Spanish, XVIII. 161.
Ballano, river, XVI. 783.
Ballast, IV. 320 ; XX. 267—iron, 56.
Ballenden. See Bellenden.
Ballenstedt, IV. 321.
Ballet, IV. 321; VII. 615.
Ballina, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballinahincii, Irish town, IV. 321—
mineral waters of, VIII. 132.
Ballinakil, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballinasloe, IV. 321; XIX. 480.
Ballingarry, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballinrobe, IV. 321 ; XIV. 339.
Balliol. See Baliol.
Ballista, IV. 321.
Ballisteum, or Ballistrsea, IV. 321.
Ballistic Penddldm, IV. 321.
Balloon, theory of the, II. 181—buoyant
force of, ib. — celerity of ascent of,
182—stability of its suspension at
given height, 183—invention of, by
the Montgolfiers, 184—first ascent in
a, 186—employed in war, X. 93, n. 2.
Balloon-fish, XII. 228.
Balloting, IV. 321.
Ballston springs, XVI. 183.
Ballusters of stairs, III. 463, 465.
Ballybay, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballycastle, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballymatron, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballymena, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballymoney, Irish village, IV. 321.
Ballymote, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballyragget, Irish town, IV. 321.
Ballyshannon, Irish town, IV. 321 ;
VIII. 114—harbour of, 194.
Ballytore, Irish town, IV. 321.
Balm of Gilead, IV. 321.
 of Mecca, IV. 322.
Balm-tree of Arabia, III. 327.
Raima (Jacques), ascent of Mont Blanc
by, II. 562.
Balmerino, in Fife, IV. 324.
Balnaves (Henry), IV. 324.
Balnearii Servi, IV. 324.
Balnearius Fdr, IV. 324.
Balognes, in France, IV. 324.
Balotade, IV. 324.
Balsams, VI. 490 ; IV. 322.
Balsamineae, in botany, V. 103.
Balsham (Hugh), XXI. 501.
Balsover, or Bolsover, IV. 324.
Balta, Russian town, IV. 324.
Baltic Sea, IV. 324; IX. 408.
Baltimore, Irish town, IV. 332.
 , in Maryland, IV. 332 ; XIV.
273—attempt of the British on, in
1814, V. 538—Ohio railroad, XIV.
272—college of, ib.
Ealtinglass, Irish town, IV. 332.
Baldbalagan Islands, IV. 332.
Baluster, IV. 332.
Balustrade, in architecture, IV. 332 ;
III. 453.
Baluze (Etienne), IV. 332—his collec¬
tion of the capitularies, VI. 124.
Balzac (J. L. G. de), IV. 335.
Bamba, IV. 335; VII. 528.
Bambarra, African country, IV. 335.
Bamberg, early printing at, XVIII. 548.
Bamboccio, painter, IV. 336.
Bamboo, IV. 336—used in the criminal
administration of China, VI. 555—pa¬
per made from, XVII. 9.
Bamborough, IV. 338.
Bambouk, African country, IV. 338.
Bamburg, in Bavaria, IV. 339.
Bamiyan, IV. 339.
Bampton, IV. 339.
Banaguer, Irish town, IV. 339.
Banalbufar, Spanish town, IV. 339.
I Banana,its culture in Mexico, XIV. 800,
18
INDEX
BAN
Banat, in Hungary, IV. 339.
Banbury, in Oxfordshire, IV. 339.
Banca, island, IV. 339-tin-mines of,
XV. 251 n.
Bancapoor, IV.339.
Banchus, insect, IX. 225.
Bancook, Siamese port, IV. 339.
Bancroft on the art of dyeing, VIII. 297,
301, et seq.
Band, in architecture. III. 465.
Banda Islands, IV. 340.
 Oriental, II. 640, 642 ; V. 660.
Bandaleer, IV. 342.
Bandana handkerchiefs, manufacture of,
VII. 408.
Bandelkhand, V. 703.
Bandello, Italian novelist, IV. 342—
his romances, XIX. 349.
Bander Congo, IV. 343.
Bandini (Angelo Maria), IV. 343—on
political economy, XVIII. 268.
Banditti, IV. 343.
Bandon, Irish town, IV. 344.
 river navigation, XVI. 22.
Bandora, IV. 344.
Bandore, IV. 344.
Bandrol, IV. 344.
Bane, IV. 344.
Banff and Banffshire, IV. 344.
Bangalore, IV. 345; V. 462.
Banghir, Irish town, IV. 346.
Bangor, in Wales, IV. 346—in Ireland,
ib.—in Maine, XIV. 44.
Banguey, island, IV. 346.
Baniak, island, IV. 346.
Banialuch, in Turkey, IV. 346.
Banian-tree, IX. 536.
Banians, Hindoo sect, IV. 346.
Banier (Anthony), IV. 346.
Banister (John), IV. 346.
Banjarmassin, IV. 347 ; V. 10.
Bank, IV. 347. See Banking, Banks.
 of England, XIII. 497; XVII. 27
—its establishment and history, 28-
principles of, 31—Bramah’s machine
for numbering and dating its notes,
V. 183—its difficulties in 1796-7, 480,
483—acts of Parliament respecting, in
1826, 565—importation of gold by,
VII. 44—reserve of treasure in, 175—
bad effects of secrecy as to amount
of its treasure in 1825 and 1818,
ib.—importance of publicity, ib.—de¬
gradation in the value of its paper,
XV. 402—publication of its quarterly
accounts, XX. 568.
■ of France, X. 193.
Bank-notes, XV. 392, 402; XVII. 20,
31, 41, 43 ; VII. 459—numbering and
dating of, V. 183—suppression of small
notes in England, V. 565; VII. 174
—their influence on commerce, VII.
160, 173—effects of degradation of
value of, XV. 403—steel-engraving of,
IX. 54—printing of, XVIII. 570.
Bankers, IV. 347—none in Spain, XX.
519.
Bankcs (J. W.), his Egyptian disco¬
veries, VIII. 558—on hieroglyphics,
XI. 354.
Banking, IV. 347—Irish, XII. 411—in
London, XIII. 505—in the United
States, XXI. 474. See Bank, Banks,
Credit, Exchange.
 . See Embankment.
Bankiva-cock, XVI. 609.
Bankok, XX. 322.
Bankrupt, IV. 347 — old Roman law
against bankrupts, VI. 711.
Banks, XVII. 19, 27—English, 28-
Scotch, 42 ; XIX. 770—Irish, XVII.
44—foreign, 45—in the middle ages,
II. 7—numerous failures of, in 1825,
V. 564—in Buenos Ayres, 652—Edin¬
burgh, VIII. 426—New York, XVI.
191—Savings-Banks, XIX. 662, 766;
XII. 411 ; XVIII. 385; XXI. 51.
 (John), IV. 348.
  Sir Joseph), IV. 348—his ob¬
servations on a spider, III. 355—ca¬
talogue of his library, IV. 630 ;
VIII. 221—his botanical labours, V.
78,84.
BAN—BAR
Banks (Thos.),his sculpture, XX. 9.
Banks’s Island, IV. 351.
Bann, or Ban, IV. 351.
 river navigation, XVI. 22.
Banner, IV. 351.
Bannerets, knights, IV. 351; VI. 611.
Bannister (Humphry), his betrayal of
the Duke of Buckingham, XII. 275.
Bannockburn, in Stirlingshire, IV. 351
—battle of, XIX. 710.
Banqueting Room, IV. 351.
Banska, in Hungary, IV. 352.
Bantam, town in Java, IV. 352.
Bantry Bay, in the county of Cork,
IV. 352 ; VII. 330; X. 104.
Banwell, cave of, XV. 223.
Baptism, IV. 352 ; XI. 490—of the dead,
IV. 356—hypothetical, solemn, and
lay, ib.—catachumens, or candidates
for, VI. 241—proportion of baptisms
to the population in England, VIII.
800—registration of, XIX. 98. See
Baptists, Anabaptists.
Baptismal vow, IV. 356—Presents, ib.
Baptist (John Monnoyer), IV. 356.
Baptists, IV. 356 ; II. 680.
Baptistery, IV. 357.
Bar, in courts of justice, IV. 357.
 , in heraldry, IV. 357 ; XI. 249.
 , in music, IV. 357.
 ,in rivers, IV. 357 ; XIX. 285.
 , a Turkish town, III. 269.
 , or Barrah, XX. 93.
Bar-le-Duc, in France, IV. 357.
Bar-sur-Aube, in France, IV. 358.
Bar-sur-Seine, in France, IV. 358.
Bara, a festival, IV. 358.
Barabinzians, IV. 358.
Baracoa, in Cuba, IV. 358.
Bara-franca, IV. 358.
Barahat, IV. 358.
Baraiche, IV. 358.
Baralipton, in logic, IV. 358.
Barallots, heretics, IV. 358.
Baran, in Hungary, IV. 358.
Barangi, IV. 358.
Baranwahr, IV. 358.
Baras, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Barathrum,IV.358.
Baratiere (Philip), IV. 358.
Barracan, IV. 359.
Barbaceniese, in botany, V. 134,
Barbacou, bird, XVI. 598.
Barbadoes, island, IV. 359.
Barbara, in logic, IV. 360.
Barbarano, Austrian town, IV. ."iGO.
Barbarian, IV. 360.
Barbarism, IV. 360.
Barbaro on architecture, III. 425.
Barbarossa, IV. 360; II. 504 ; XII.
470 ; XVIII. 190.
Barbary States, IV. 360—dynasty of
the Almohedes, II. 534—wars with
Portugal, 552, et seq.—French trade
with, X. 191—slavery in, XX. 384,
Barbastro, Spanish city, IV. 367.
Barbatelli (Bernardino), IV. 367.
Barbatio, VII. 274.
Barbauld (Mrs), on Richardson’s novels,
XIX. 337.
Barbe, IV. 367.
Barbel, XII. 198—angling for, III. 147.
Barber, IV. 367—origin of barber’s
pole, HI. 308.
Barberino (Francis), IV. 367.
 , Italian town, IV. 367.
Barbeyrac (John), IV. 367.
Barbezieux, in France, IV. 367.
Barbican, IV. 359—bird, XVI. 599.
Barbicornis, insect, IX. 242.
Barbier (M.), on anonymous books, IV.
628.
Barbieri, IV. 367.
Barbon (Nicholas), on political econo¬
my, XVIII. 266.
Barboteau on ants, HI. 239.
Barbour (John), IV. 367 ; XI. 234—
his poetry, IX. 41.
Barb-Sin, XX. 93.
Barbuda, island, IV. 371.
Barbus, XII. 198—angling for. III. 147.
Barca, in Africa, IV. 372.
. Barcellos, in Portugal, IV. 372.
BAR
Barcelona, IV. 372—taken by the Earl
of Peterborough, V. 370.
Barcelonette, in France, IV. 372,
Barcelor, IV. 372.
Barclay (Alex.), poet, IV. 372.
 (John), IV. 374.
 (John), M.D., IV. 377—on an¬
cient opinions concerning the soul,
HI. 296.
 (Robert), IV. 377.
 (William), M.D., IV. 373.
 (William), LL.D., IV. 374.
Barcochebas, or Barcochab, IV. 378;
XII. 576 ; XVI. 753.
Bards, IV. 378—ancient German, X.
475—Celtic, XVII. 415.
Bard as, IV. 379.
Bardesanists, heretics, IV. 379.
Bardewick, German town, IV. 379.
Bardoe, in Norway, IV- 379.
Bardt, German town, IV. 379.
Bardylis the Illyrian, XII. 251.
Barebones’s Parliament, V. 337.
Bareilly, in Hindostan, IV. 379.
Bareith, German town, IV. 380.
Barentz (William), his voyage of disco¬
very, XVIII. 217.
Barettier (Philip), IV. 358.
Babfleur, French town, IV. 380.
Barga, Sardinian city, IV. 380.
Bargain, IV. 380.
Barge, IV. 380, 722 ; XX. 217.
Barghmote, or Barmote, IV. 380.
Barham (Dr)i XVI. 208.
Bari, IV. 380 ; XV. 700.
Baridius, insect, IX. 174.
Barilla, IV. 380.
Barium, VI. 395.
Bark of trees, IV. 380 ; V. 33 ; XXI. 576
—course of sap in, III. 50,51—vessels
of, 52—texture of, 63—structure and
growth of, 83—structure of oak-bark,
85 ; of bark of roots, 87—paper made
from, XVII. 8. See Oak-bark.
 (Peruvian). See Cinchona.
 , in navigation, IV. 380.
Bark-stove, XI. 686, 687.
Barker (Tho.), on salmon-roe as a bait,
III. 142—his work on angling, 149.
Barker’s Mill, XII. 93; XXI. 805—its
use strongly recommended, 806.
Barking, in Essex, IV. 380.
Barkway, in Hertfordshire, IV. 380.
Barlaam on sexagesimals, III. 538.
Bakl^us (Gaspar), IV. 380.
Barletta, IV. 380 ; XV. 700.
Barley, culture and varieties of, II. 282
—germination and productiveness of,
III. 78—brew ing from, V. 231—species
of, ib.—constituents of, 232—table of
properties of different kinds of British,
233—malting of, 234—starch of, VI.
476—its use in distillation, VIII. 44,
51—pearl and French, IV. 380. See
Corn-laws.
Barley-corn, a measure, IV. 3*80.
Barley-water, IV. 380.
Barlocci (Saverio), on the electricity of
the sun’s rays, VIII. 607—on mag¬
netism, XIII. 697—on solar magnet¬
ism, XVI. 422.
Barlow (Francis), painter, IV. 381.
 (Joel), IV. 381.
 (Thomas), bishop, IV. 381.
 (William), bishop, IV. 380.
  (William), mathematician and
divine, IV. 381.
  (Professor), contrivance of, to
counteract the local attraction of the
needle on board of ship, I. 629—his
telescope, IV. 103 — his repeating
watch, VI. 795—on magnetism, XIII.
693, 694, 714, 716, 720, 731, 738, 752,
760, 765, 772—on the deflection of
rails, XIX. 25—his experiments on
the elasticity and strength of timber,
XXI. 303.
Barm, IV. 382.
Barmoor, in Derbyshire, intermitting
spring at, VII. 736.
Barmouth, Welsh town, IV. 382.
Barn, construction of, II. 271.
Barna, port of, IV. 660.
BAR
Barnabas’s (St), Day, IV. 382—Epistle,
ib.—Gospel, ib.
Barnabites, religions order, IV. 382.
Barnacles, IV. 382—Boyce’s story con¬
cerning, V. 160, n. 1.
Barnard Castle, IV. 383 ; VIII. 291.
Barnes (Joshua), IV. 383.
  (Dr), on the pleasure of con¬
templating distress, VIII. 53.
Barnet, IV. 383—battle of, VIII. 737.
Barneveldt (John d’Olden), IV. 383;
XI. 521.
Barnsley, in Yorkshire, IV. 383.
Barnstaple, in Devonshire, IV. 383.
Barq, or Baron (Peter), IV. 383.
Barocci (Frederick), painter, IV. 383.
Baroche. See Broach.
Barodah, V. 586.
Barometer, IV. 384—its construction,
XII. 19—first applied to the measure¬
ment of mountains by Mariotte, I.
542—rule of modern practice stated,
614—height of, in connection with at¬
mospherical refraction, IV. 100—
mountain, 399—portable, 400—me¬
thod of computing the depression of
the mercury in, VI. 119—effect of
aqueous vapour on barometric mea¬
surements, XII. 131—prognostication
of rain by its fall, 132 ; XIV. 721;
XVIII. 73—use of the, in measuring
heights, 74 register-barometers,
XVII. 530—marine, XX. 58—effect
of barometric changes on ebullition,
574,
Barometrical Measurements, IV.
396.
 areometer, XII. 24.
Baron, IV. 402.
 (Robert), IV. 403.
Baronet, IV. 403; VI. 612.
Baroni (Leonora), IV. 404.
Baronius (Csesar), IV. 404.
Barony, IV. 404.
Barra, IV. 404.
Barraba, desert of, IV. 404.
Barracan, IV. 404.
Barrack-master-gencral, HI. 618.
Barrackpore, IV.404.
Barracks, IV. 405.
Barradas, XIV. 793.
Barramahal, IV. 406.
Barrator, or Barretor, IV. 406.
Barratry, IV. 406.
Barraux, French fortress, IV. 406.
Barray, island, IV. 406.
Barre (L. F. J. do la), IV. 406.
Barrel, IV. 406—of guns, XI. 36; XX.
304.
Barren Island Cape, IV. 406.
Barren Island, IV. 407.
Barret (Dr), palimpsest discovered by,
IV. 621—his palimpsest edition of St
Matthew, XVI. 764.
Barreto (Pedro), VI. 43.
Barretry, in law, IV-407.
Barrett (George), his calculations of an¬
nuities, III. 200.
Barricade, IV. 407.
Barrier, in fortification, IV. 407.
Barrington (John Shute), IV. 407.
 (Daines), IV. 407.
Barringtonese, in botany, V. 110.
Barristers, IV. 408 ; VII. 430.
Barritus, IV. 408.
Barron’s patent lock, XIII. 405.
Barros (John de), IV. 408 ; V. 189.
Barrosa, battle of, V. 529.
Barrow, river, IV. 409—its navigation,
XVI. 22.
  (Dr Isaac), IV. 408—his unjust
depreciation of Ramus, I. 30—charac¬
ter of, as a philosopher and writer, 45
—anecdote relative to his sermons, ib.
—quotations from, on ethics, 46—no¬
tice of his lectures on optics, 514—
his Scale of Velocities, VIII. 375—
Newton’s obligations to, 377—his dif¬
ferential triangle, XIV. 318.
 (Sir John), his plan for prevent¬
ing dry rot, XX. 274.
 (John) jun., his account of Ice¬
land, XII. 144, 146v
INDEX
19
BAR—BAS
Barrows, tumuli, IY. 409.
Barry (Alexander), on the electricity of
the air, VIII. 624—on electro-chemi¬
cal decomposition, 632.
 (Gtirald), IV. 410.
 (James), IV. 410—his character
as a painter, XVI. 726, 727.
  (Dr Martin), on the ovaries,
XVII. 687, 692.
 , in heraldry, IV. 414.
Barsanti (Francisco), IV. 414.
Barsumas, XVI. 104.
Bartas (W. de Salluste du), IV. 415.
Barter, or truck, IV. 415.
Bartfeld, in Hungary, IV. 415.
Barth, or Bart (John), IV. 415.
Barthelemi (Mons.), V. 479.
Barthei.emy (John James), a French
writer, IV. 415; XI. 314.
Barthez (Paul Joseph), IV. 418.
Barthids (Gaspard), IV. 422.
Bartholinus (Gaspard), IV. 422 ; on
anatomy, II. 698.
 (Thomas), IV. 422 ; XVII. 728
—on the period of human utero-ges-
tation, XIV. 491.
* ' (Erasmus), on double refrac¬
tion, XVI. 359, 453.
Bartholomew (St), massacre of, X. 32.
Bartholomew’s (St) Day, IV. 422.
 Hospital, XIII. 513.
Bartholomites, IV. 422.
Bartolocci (Julius), IV. 422.
Bartolomeo (Francisco), IV. 422—his
style of painting, XVI. 713.
 in Saldo, IV. 422.
Barton (Elizabeth), II. 38.
 (Mr), on the population of the
United States, XV. 518.
Barton’s coining-machine, VII. 49.
 lamp, XIII. 43.
Barton-Bridge, aqueduct at. III. 322.
Barton-on-Humber, IV. 422.
Baruch, prophecy of, IV. 422.
Baruth, Syrian town, IV. 423.
Baryta, bird, XVI. 568.
 , a poison, XIV. 502.
Baryte, in mineralogy, XV. 142, 143.
Barytes, VI. 395—salts of, 446—medical
properties of, VII. 451—phosphores¬
cent effects of electricity on barytic
substances, VIII. 633—specific gra¬
vity of, XII. 27.
Baryto-calcite, sp. gr. of, XII. 27.
Barytoncm, IV. 423.
Bas (James Philip le), IV. 423.
Basalt, XV. 217, 227—specific gravity
of, XII. 27—in Ireland, 393—in Van
Diemen’s Land, XXI. 554.
Basan, or Bashan, IV. 423.
Basarhely, in Hungary, IV. 423.
Basartschik, Turkish town, IV. 423.
Baschkirs, XXI. 86.
Base, in architecture, III. 465.
Basedow (John Bernard), IV. 423.
Baseggio (G.), on birds, XVI. 551.
Basel, in Switzerland, IV. 425* XXL
49—education in, 50.
Basement, in architecture. III. 453.
Basette, IV. 433.
Bashan, IV. 423.
Basharians, a Mahommedan sect, IV.
425.
Bashaw, or Pacha, IV. 425.
Bashee Isles, IV. 425.
Basicnana, Sardinian city, IV. 425.
Basil, in joinery, IV. 426.
  , a plant, XL 676.
 the Great, IV. 425.
Basilan, island, IV. 426.
Basildon House, IV. 586.
Basileus, IV. 426.
Basilan Monks, IV. 426.
Basilics, or Basilic®, in architecture,
IV. 426—ancient Christian, III. 419
—Roman, XIX. 431.
■ , Greek digest of laws, IV. 426 ;
VI.'717; IX. 474; XIX. 780.
Basilicata, a province of the kingdom
of Naples, IV. 427.
Basilici, IV. 427.
Basilicus, VII. 280.
Basilidians, heretics, IV. 427.
BAS-BAT
Basilippum, in Spain, IV. 427.
Basilisc, reptile, XIX. 145.
 , piece of ordnance, IV. 427.
Basilius, IV. 427—his code, 426 ; VI.
717; IX. 474 ; XIX. 780.
 II., emperor, VII. 282.
Basilovitz (John), XIX. 534.
Basiluzzo, island, XIII. 370.
Basingstoke, in Hampshire, IV. 427 
canal, XVI. 8 ; XX. 847.
Baskerville (John), IV. 427 —his
types, XVIII. 554.
Basket, IV. 428.
Basket-making, IV. 428.
Baskets of Earth, IV. 431.
Basket-salt, IV. 431.
Basman, Persian village, IV. 431.
Basnace (James and Henry), IV. 431.
Bason, IV. 432.
Basra, V. 748—commerce of, XI. 387.
Bas-relief, IV. 434.
Bass, in music, IV. 432 ; XV. 624—
double, 613.
Bass Rock, IV. 432 ; XI. 104.
Bass’s Straits, New Holland, IV. 432
—discovery of, 205.
Bass-bassoon, XV. 615.
Bass-drum, XV. 617.
Bass-viol, IV. 432.
Bassan (Giacomo de Pont), IV. 432.
Bassani (Giovanni Battista), IV. 432.
Bassano, Lombard city, IV. 433.
Bassantin (James), IV. 433.
Bassassire, VIII. 478.
Basse Terre, IV. 433 ; VI. 631; XI. 12.
Bassein, in the Burman empire, IV. 433
—treaty of, XI. 435, 437.
Basset, or Basette, IV. 433.
 (Peter), IV. 434.
Basset-horn, XV. 614.
Basseting, IV. 434.
Bassoon, IV. 434 ; XV. 615.
Bassora V. 748—commerce of, XL 387.
Basso-relievo, IV. 434.
Bassorin, VI. 478.
Bassus, insect, IX. 225.
Bastard, IV. 434.
Bastardy, IV. 436—law of, XVIII.
365, 382, 387.
Bastarn,e, IV. 436.
Bastarnic^i Alpes, IV. 436.
Bastia, in Corsica, IV. 436.
Bastile, IV. 436—its destruction, X. 52.
Bastimentos, islands, IV. 437.
Bastinado, IV. 437.
Bastion, IV. 437 ; IX. 769.
Bastogne, IV. 437.
Baston, or Baton, IV. 437.
 (Robert), IV. 437.
Bastwick (Dr John), IV. 437.
Bat, XIV. 98—hybernation of, III. 167
—structure of, XVII. 703—surprising
precision of its acts when deprived of
sight, XX. 524.
 , Bate, or Batz, coin, IV. 437.
Eatable,or debateable ground, IV. 437.
Batacolo, in Ceylon, IV. 437.
Batalha, church of convent of. III. 423.
Batalin, island, IV. 437.
Batang, IV. 438.
Batanists, or Batenitcs, IV. 440.
Batava, IV. 438.
Batavia, town in Java, IV. 438—arrack
of, III. 627 — trade of, 701—Capt.
Cook’s visit to, VII. 298.
Batavorum Insula, IV. 439 ; XI. 509.
 Oppidum, IV. 439.
Bate, (George), IV. 439—Isle, 440.
Bate’s balance, XIV. 456.
Bateman (Dr), on the diseases of Lon¬
don, XV. 521.
Batenites, IV. 440.
Bates (William), D.D., IV. 440.
Bath, in Somerset, IV. 440—in Maine,
XIV. 44. See Baths.
 (Knights of the), IV. 440.
Batheri, IV. 441.
Bathgate, Scotch town, IV. 441.
Bathiergus, in zoology, XIV. 137.
Bathing, IV. 442—promotes health,
XIV. 508. See Baths.
Bath-Kol, JV. 442.
Baths, IV. 441—Roman, III. 444 ; XIX.
BAT—BAX
429 ; XXI. 236—Egyptian, VIII. 528
—warming of, by steam, XX. 607—of
Teflis, XXI. 135. See Bathing, Bux¬
ton, Carlsbad, &c.
Bathurst, (Allen, earl of), IV. 448.
 (Ralph), M.D., IV. 448.
 in New Brunswick, XVI. 148.
Bathylus, dancer, IV. 449 ; VII. 614.
Batillus, IV. 449.
Batinda, in Hindostan, IV. 449.
Batiste, IV. 449.
Batmanson (John), IV. 449.
Batnears, or Battles, LV. 449.
Baton, IV. 437.
Batraehia, reptiles, XIX. 150—structure
of, XVII. 714.
Batrachoid reptiles, bones of, III. 13,
et seq.—heart, 39—lungs, 40.
Batrachomyomachia, IV. 451.
Batrachus, fish, XII. 195.
Bats, or Batsch, IV. 451.
Batt/e, IV. 451.
Battalah, in Hindostan, IV. 451.
Battalia and Battalion, IV. 451.
Battanea, XVI. 745.
Battanta, island, IV. 451.
Battas, island, IV. 451—inhabitants
of, III. 693 ; XX. 806—their cannibal¬
ism, III. 249 ; XX. 806—their lan¬
guage, XIII. 82.
Battecolah, Hindoo town, IV. 451.
Battel, IV. 451; VIII. 252.
Batten, IV. 452 ; V. 687.
Batter,in architecture. III. 465.
Battering, IV. 452—ram, ib.
Battery, IV. 453 — electrical, VIII.
649—galvanic, I. 623; XXI. 665—Am¬
pere’s revolving, 685.
Battles, IV. 449.
Battista (Franco), painter, IV. 453.
Battle, IV. 453—trial by, IV. 451 ;
VIII. 252.
  (Naval), XXI. 755—described,
761. See Signals, XX. 331.
 , town in Sussex, IV. 453.
Battles, rules concerning, XXL 742—
Roman, III. 593.
Battle-axe, IV. 455.
Battlements, IV. 455; III. 465.
Batton, IV. 455.
Battone (Pompio), painter, XVI. 716.
Battory, IV. 455.
Battu, island, IV. 455.
Batua, IV. 455.
Baucis, IV. 455.
Baudelot (Charles C*sar), IV. 455.
Baudier (Michael), IV. 455.
Baudin (Capt.), his voyage of discovery
to New Holland, IV. 206.
Baudius (Dominic), IV. 455.
Baudrand (Michael Anthony), IV. 455.
Baudrin, IV. 773.
Bauer on the spleen, II. 727—on the
brain, 737 —on the muscles, 738 ;
XVII. 609—on cerebral globules, 660.
 (J. J.), on rare books, IV. 625.
Bauereae, in botany, V. 113.
Badge, in France, IV. 455.
Bauhin (John and Gaspard), IV. 456.
Bauman Islands, IV. 456.
Baume (Anthony), IV. 456—his mode
of manufacturing sal-ammoniac, II.
662—his araeometer. III. 371—on
clays, V. 260.
 , in France, IV. 457.
Baumen, or Bauman, cave, IV. 457.
Baumgartner (M.), on magnetism, XIII.
697—on solar magnetism, XVI. 422.
Bauschius (J. L.), Academy of Naturcc
Curiosi founded by, II. 68.
Bautzen, battle of, X. 161.
Bavaria, IV. 457—army of, III. 610—
Joseph II.’s plan of exchanging the
Austrian Netherlands for, V. 437—
quicksilver mines in, XV. 258—coins
of, 407, 409—commercial league with
Prussia, XVIII. 686—penal code, 735
—weights and measures, XXL 852.
Bawtry, in Yorkshire, IV. 463.
Baxter (Andrew), IV. 464—his theory
of dreams, VIII. 188—on the soul, I.
205; XIV. 679—on the immortality
of the soul, 687.
BAX—BEA
Baxter (Richard), IV. 463—Calamy’s
Abridgment and Continuation of his
History of his Life and Times, V. 784.
Baxter (William), IV. 464.
Bay, IV. 464 ; X. 407.
 , in architecture, III. 465.
 tree, XVII. 786—specific gravity
of its wood, XII. 27.
Baya, bird, XVI. 580.
Bayard (Peter du Terrail de), French
knight, IV. 464 ; VI. 605.
Bayazid, or Bajazid, IV. 465.
Baybridge Canal, XVI. 8.
Bayen (Peter), chemist, IV. 465.
Bayes (Rev. Mr), his papers on proba¬
bility, XVIII. 592.
Bayeux, IV. 466—tapestry, XXL 823.
Bayla, or Bela, IV. 466.
Bayle (Peter), IV. 466 ; VII. 205—the
first writer who led to the misapplica¬
tion of the term Spinozism, I. 147—
character of his writings, 151 — opi¬
nions of the learned at the time of his
appearance divided between Aristotle
and Descartes, 152—took advantage
of this by keeping aloof from all, and
indulging his scepticism, ib.—probable
reason for the omission of Montaigne
in his Dictionary, ib.—copied the
spirit and tone of the old academic
school, 153—his character by War-
burton, Leibnitz, and Gibbon, ib.—
his critical acumen unrivalled, but his
portraits of persons defective, 154—
causes which contributed to unsettle
his opinions, ib.—early fluctuations
of his religious creed, ib.—his pro¬
pensity to treat of indelicate subjects,
ib.—mischievous tendency ofhis work,
155—benefits which have resulted to
literature from his labours, ib.—his
leaning to the system of the Mani-
cheans apparent, but not real, ib.—
estimate of his genius and acquire¬
ments, 156—lessons of historical scep¬
ticism to be learned from, ib.—on
anonymous books, IV. 627—his Dic¬
tionary, XV. 500.
Bayly (Lewis), IV. 467.
Bayonet, IV. 467 ; XI. 36.
Bayonne, in France, IV. 467.
Bazaar, IV. 468—bazaars in London,
XIII. 534.
Bazas, in France, IV. 468.
Bazat, or Baza, IV. 468.
Bazeegurs, IV. 468.
Bazgendges, IV. 470.
Bazzano, Italian city, IV. 470.
Bdella, worm, XI. 226.
Bdellium, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Beachy-Head, IV. 470 ; XXI. 355-6.
Beacon, IV. 470.
Beaconage, IV. 470.
Beaconsfield, IV. 470.
Bead, IV. 470—in architecture, III.
442, 465—bead-proof, IV. 470.
Bead-roll, IV. 470.
Beadle, IV. 470.
Beagles, IV. 470 ; XL 706.
Beak of a ship, IV. 471.
Beaked, in heraldry, IV. 471.
Beale (Mary), IV. 471.
• (Mr), on the sperm-whale, XIV.
134-his aviary, XVI. 587.
Beam, IV. 471.
Beams, strength of, VI. 152; XX. 760,
etseq.—building up of, VI. 164—beams
of a ship, IV. 471; XX. 284, 289.
Beam-compass, IV. 471.
Beaminster, in Dorsetshire, IV. 471.
Beamish (Major), on the military charac¬
ter of the French, III. 601.
Bean, IV. 471—its internal structure,
III. 80—culture of the garden-bean.
. XL 669.
Bean-cod, boat, IV. 471.
Bean-flour, IV. 471.
Bean-fly, IV. 471.
Bear, XIV. 105—its structure, XVII.
704—hunting of, in Sweden, XX. 302
—shooting, ib.—order of the, IV. 471.
Bear Island, IV. 471.
Bear’s Island, XIX. 590-
20
INDEX
BEA—BEC
Beak’s-skin, IV. 471.
Beard, IV. 471—women with, 474.
Bearing,in navigation, IV. 474; X. 407.
Bearings, in heraldry, IV. 474.
Beast, IV. 474. See Brute.
Beat, IV. 474—of drum, ib.
 (St), French town, IV. 474.
Beaters of metals, IV. 474.
Beatification, IV. 474.
Beating, IV. 474—beating time, 475.
Beatitude, IV. 475.
Beaton (David), IV. 475 ; XIX. 727,
730, 731—assassination of, III. 121.
  (James), St Mary’s College at St
Andrews founded by, XXI. 500.
Beatorcm Insula, IV. 475.
Beatson (Dr), on the cause of the un¬
fortunate result of KeppePs engage¬
ment, XXI. 141.
Beatson’s windmill-sails, XIV. 435.
Beattie (James), LL.D., IV. 475—on
Locke’s views concerning innate ideas,
I. 117 ; XIV. 601—his merits as a
writer, I. 222—on dreams, VIII. 186
—on laughter, XIII. 122—on truth,
XIV. 637, 638—poetry of, XVIII. 173
—on second sight, XX. 70.
Beaucaire, IV. 478—canal of, XVI. 5.
Beauchamp (Mons.), his survey of the
Black Sea, IV. 658.
Beaufort, French town, IV. 478.
  — (Thomas), VIII. 733-4.
Beaufoy (Colonel), XX. 229—his varia¬
tion transit, XIII. 7 66—on the resist¬
ance of fluids, XIX. 186.
 (Mr), his attempt to procure
the repeal of the corporation and test
acts, V. 443.
Beaulieu (Sebastian de Pontault do),
IV. 478—his expedition against Al¬
giers, II. 506.
Beauly, in Inverness-shire, IV. 478.
Beaumarchais (P. A. C. de), IV. 473.
Beaumaris, in Anglesey, IV. 480.
Beaumont (Barber), V. 647.
 (Sir John), IV. 480.
 (M. de), on the Deluge, VII.
700—on geology, XV. 233.
Beaumont and Fletcher, IV. 480—
their merits as dramatists, VIII. 169.
Baune, in France, IV. 481.
Beaupreau, in France, IV. 481.
Beausobre (Isaac de), IV. 481.
Beautiful, signification of the word, in
Plato’s works, I. 301.
Beauty, IV. 481—elements of, in archi¬
tecture, III. 457—influence of custom
on pleasure from, VII. 560—efiects
of personal, on its possessor’s mind,
VIII. 442—of the human face, XIII.
577. See Deformity, Taste.
Beauvais, in France, IV. 502.
Beaver, XIV. 137—bones of its tail, III.
3—pairing of, 168—instincts of, XII.
297—structure of, XVII. 705.
Beaver-skins, IV. 478; X. 266.
Bebe, a dwarf, VIII. 294.
Bebon, Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Bebrycia, IV. 502.
Becah, Jewish coin, IV. 502.
Becalm, IV. 502.
Becanor, town in India, IV. 502.
Beccabunga, IV. 502.
Beccamoschino, bird, XVI. 576.
Beccaria (C. B., marquis of), IV. 502
—discovered gluten in wheat flour,
IV. 297—on clouds, VII. 2—on elec¬
tricity, VIII. 570, 625 ; and its mag¬
netic effects, 637—measurement of a
degree by, IX. 549, 551—his objection
to the right of property, XVIII. 276—
on punishment, 731.
Becher (John Joachim), IV. 508—on
chemistry, VI. 348.
 , fish, XII. 177.
Bechin, Bohemian town, IV. 508.
Bechtermunze (Henry and Nicholas),
early printers, XVIII. 548.
Beck, IV. 508.
  (David), painter, IV. 508.
  (Dr), his work on medical juris¬
prudence, XIV. 492,
JJecket (Thomas), IV. 509 ; VIII. 716.
BEC—BEE
Beckford, Lord Mayor of London, his
address to George III., V. 392.
  (Mr), on hounds and hunting,
XI. 700, et seq., 742.
Beckingham (Charles), IV. 510.
Beckmann (John), professor at Gottin¬
gen, IV, 510—his opinion of jugglers,
XII. 627—on ordeal, XVI. 521.
Beckum, IV. 511.
Bbclard (Mons.), on arterial tissue, II.
717—on erectile tissue, 725—on the
spleen, 726—on ligaments, 7 39—on
the fibro-cartilages, 748—on the skin,
750—on the villi of the ileum, 816—
his classification of animal functions,
XVIL 590.
Becquerel (Mons.), on pyro-electricity,
VIII. 597—on the influence of heat
on the electric fluid in metals, 599—
on electricity produced by pressure,
600 ; and by combustion, 607—on
magnetism, XIII. 705, 710—his de¬
composing galvanic cell, XXI. 673—
on electro-chemical decomposition,
XXI. 679—his galvanic experiments
on dead bodies, 681—on thermo-elec¬
tricity, XXI. 696.
Bectasse, Turkish sect, IV. 511.
Bed, IV. 511.
Beda. See Bede.
Bedahs of Ceylon, VI. 303.
Bedchamber, Lords of the, IV. 512.
Beddizolle, in Lombardy, IV. 512.
Beddoes (Thomas), M.D., IV. 512—
Sir Humphry Davy’s connection with,
VII. 637.
Bede (the Venerable), IV. 512—his
learning, XIII. 292.
Bedell (Dr William), bishop of Kil-
more, IV. 516, 619 ; VI. 255.
Bedford, IV. 516.
 Level, VI. 33.
 (Duke of), on peace with France'
in 1800, V. 491.
Bedfordshire, IV. 516.
Bedlam Hospital, London, XIII. 515.
Bedloe (William), IV. 517.
Bedminster, V. 292.
Bed-mould, in architecture, III. 465.
Bednore, in Hindostan, IV. 517.
Bedouins, IV. 517—III. 330, et seq.—of
Palestine, XVI. 748—of Syria, XXI.
63. See Arabs.
Bedriacum, ancient Italian village, IV.
517—battle of, XIX. 404.
Bedwin (Great), in Wiltshire, IV. 518.
Bee, IV. 518—Butler’s work on bees, II.
257—apiary, III. 282—bees’-wax, IV.
520 ; XXI. 821—instincts of, XII.
297—construction of combs, 298—its
sting poisonous, XIV. 507—stomachs
of, XVII. 721.
Beech-mast, IV. 536.
Beech-oil, IV. 536.
Beech-tree, XVII. 783.
Beech-timber, XXI. 294—specific gravity
of, XII. 27.
Beechey (Captain), his arctic discove¬
ries, XVIII. 222.
Beeder, in Hindostan, IV. 536.
Bee-eater, common, XVI. 592—cowled,
knob-fronted, and poe, 574.
Beef, IV. 537.
Beef-eater, bird, XVI. 582.
Beele, IV. 537.
Beelzebub, IV. 265 ; XVII. 352.
Beema, in Sumbawa, XX. 808.
Beemah, river, IV. 537.
Beer, invented by the Egyptians, V.
230—ancient, ib.—brewing of, ib.—
wherein different from ale, 252—con¬
sumption of in England, VIII. 778—
specific gravity of, XII. 27—Irish trade
in, 406.
 , or Bir, Turkish town, IV. 537.
Beer-machine, Bramah’s, V. 182.
Beer-measure, XXI. 850.
Beeralston, in Devonshire, IV. 537.
Beering. See Behring.
Beeroo, African kingdom, IV. 537.
Beeroth, in Judea, IV. 537.
Beer-Regis, in Dorsetshire, IV, 537.
Bej;rsheba, IV. 537, 596,
BEE—BEL
Beestings, IV. 537 ; VII. 127.
Beet, culture of, XI. 670, 672.
Beet-root sugar, X. 184 — Prussian,
XVIII. 692.
Beethoven (Ludwig Von), IV. 537
education of, XV. 607.
Beetle, IV. 538.
Beetles, IX. 59, 107—their tenacity of
life, III. 163.
Beeves, IV. 538.
Befort, in France, IV. 538.
Bega navigation, XVI. 4.
 (Cornelius), painter, IV. 538.
Begging. See Mendicity, Alms.
Beghards, IV. 539.
Begherme, African country, IV. 539.
Beglerbeg, or Beglierbey, IV. 539.
Begonia, in botany, V. 65.
Begoniacese, in botany, V. 126.
Beguards, IV. 539.
Beguines, IV. 539.
Behaban, Persian town, IV. 539.
Beheading, IV. 539 ; XIV. 513.
Behemoth,IV.539.
Behmen. See Boehmen.
Behn (Aphara), IV. 539—her novels,
XIX. 335.
Behrendt, in Prussia, IV. 540.
Behring, voyages of, II. 402.
Behring’s Island, IV. 537 ; II. 404.
 Straits, IV. 537—current in,
XVIII. 223.
Beighton (Henry), his valve-gear of
steam-engines, XX. 627.
Beinaschi (Giovanni Battista), IV. 540.
Being, Aristotle’s notion of, III. 505.
Beira, IV. 609.
Beirout, IV. 291 ; VI. 717.
Beit el Fakih, IV. 540.
Beith, in Renfrewshire, IV. 540.
Beiza, or Beizath, IV. 540.
Beja, Portuguese city, IV. 540.
Bejapour, in Hindostan, IV. 540.
Bekah, Jewish coin, IV. 502.
Bekes, in Hungary, IV. 541.
Bekker (Balthasar), IV. 541—bis work
against the doctrine of witchcraft, III.
299 ; XXI. 908—persecuted for it by
the clergy, III. 300, n. ; 301, n. 1.
Bel (Matthias), IV. 542.
 , or Belus, IV. 542—temple of,
at Babylon, 266.
Bel and the Dragon, IV. 542.
Bela, or Bayla, IV. 466.
Belay, IV. 542.
Belbeis, Egyptian town, IV. 542.
Belemnite, in conchology, IV. 542;
XV. 345.
Belenyes, town in Hungary, IV. 542.
Belerium, IV. 542.
Belesis, IV. 542.
Belezero, Russian town, IV. 543.
Belfast, an Irish town, IV. 543—cotton
manufacture of, VII. 415—Lagan na¬
vigation, XVI. 22.
Belford, town in Durham, IV. 543.
Belfort, or Befort, IV. 538.
Belfour’s rope-machine, XIX. 463, 465.
Belfry, IV. 543.
Belgard, in Pomerania, IV. 543.
Belgica, IV. 543—Gallia, ib.
Belginum, IV. 544.
Belgium, ancient, IV. 544.
  , modern kingdom of, XVI. 106 ;
XI. 528—libraries in, XIII. 314—po¬
pulation of, XV. 533—establishment
of its independence, XVI. 137—news¬
papers of, 173—police, XVIII. 256—
prisons, 584—religion, XIX. 315—
weights and measures of, XXI. 852—
map of, XVI. PI. 380—Belgian Bibles,
IV. 617. See Netherlands.
Belgic skull, II. 784.
Belgorod, in Russia, IV. 544.
Belgrade, IV. 544—Prince Eugene’s
victory at, IX. 396—siege of, in 1458,
by the Turks, XXI. 412—taken by
Solyman the Magnificent, ib.—taken
by the Austrians, 414.
Belgrano (General), IV. 756.
Belhaven (Lord), on agriculture, II. 261.
Belial, IV. 544.
Belidor (B. F. de), IV. 544—on hy-
BEL
draulics, XVIII. 716, 721—his expe¬
riments on the strength of wooden
columns, XX. 772—on water-wheels,
XXI. 802, 808.
Belief, IV. 544—sources of, XIV. 636,
et seq. ; XIX. 200, et seq.—of remem¬
bered ideas, XIV. 630.
Believers, IV. 544.
Belin, Bohemian town, IV. 544.
Belio, river, IV. 544.
Belisarius, general, IV. 544 ; VII. 281;
XII. 465.
Bell, IV. 545—Curfew, VII. 550.
Bells, electrical, IV. 547 ; VIII. 577,
592—musical, VI. 141.
Bell-founding, IX. 792—at Glasgow, X.
558.
Bell-metal, VI. 416—cannon of, 87.
Bell (Sir Chas.), his anatomical labours,
II. 704—on the nerves of sensation
and motion, XVII. 676—on voice,
683.
 (Dr), of Manchester, VII. 554-5.
 (Henry), his share in introduc¬
ing steam-navigation, X. 549; XX.
689.
 (Capt. Henry), on Luther’s Col-
loquia Mensalia, II. 677.
  (Patrick), his reaping-machine,
II. 270.
 (Thomas), on the teeth, II. 781.
  (William), on manure, II. 303.
Bell-bird, XVI. 570.
Bell-Rock Lighthouse, XX. 16—carrier-
pigeons employed at, VI. 177.
Bella (Stephano de la), IV. 547.
Bellac, in France, I V. 547.
Belladonna, poisonous quality of, XIV.
506 ; XVIII. 177.
Bellagio, in Lombardy, IV. 547.
BellAi (William du), IV. 547.
Bellano, in Lombardy, IV. 548.
Bellardi on botany, V. 82.
Bellarmin (Robert), IV. 548.
Bellaspoor, in India, IV. 548.
Belleau (Remi), poet, IV. 548.
Belleforest (Francis de), IV. 540.
Bellegarde, French fortress, IV. 540.
Belle-isle, French island, IV. 548—
capture of, by the British, V. 386.
— , American island, IV. 548.
Bellenden (John), IV. 548 ; XVII. 95.
Bellerophon, IV. 553.
Belles Lettres, IV. 554—academies
of, II. 76.
Belleville, in Illinois, XII. 248.
Bellevois, painter, IV. 554.
Belley, in France, IV. 554.
Bellingeri (C. F.), on the spinal chord
of animals, III. 30.
Bellini (Gentile), IV. 554 ; XVI. 717.
 (Laurence), IV. 554 ; II. 699.
Bellon, a disease, IV. 554.
Bellona, IV. 554.
Bellonarii, IV. 554.
Bellori (John Peter), IV. 554.
Bellovaci, IV. 554.
Bellows, IV. 555, 717 ; XVIII. 130—
anchor-smiths’, III. 106—contrivance
to prevent the noise of, 123—glass-
blowers’, IV. 714.
Belluno, in Lombardy, IV. 555.
Belly. See Abdomen.
Beloi, in Russia, IV. 555.
Belomancy, IV. 555.
Belon (Pierre), French traveller, IV.
555—on ichthyology, XII. 151—on
ornithology, XVI. 545.
Belone, fish, XII. 200.
Beloochistan, IV. 555.
Belosersk, in Russia, IV. 559.
Belostoma, insects, IX. 199.
Belper, in Derbyshire, IV. 559.
Belshazzar, IV. 559.
Belt (Great and Little), IV. 559, 324.
 , or girdle, IV. 559—use of belts
in machinery, XIV. 446.
Bel-tein, IV. 559.
Belturbet, Irish town, IV. 559.
Beluga, in zoology, XIV. 180.
Belunum, IV. 560.
Belus, IV. 542—temple of, at Babylon,
266—river, 560.
INDEX,
21
BEL—BEN
Belvedere, IV. 559.
Belvisiaceae, in botany, V. 111.
Belzoni (Mr), XVI. 296—obelisk trans¬
ported from Philae by, VIII. 531-2—
pyramid of Cephrenes explored by,
548, 558—his other Egyptian and Nu¬
bian discoveries, 558-9.
Bembea, or Bamba IV. 335.
Bembecides, insects, IX. 229.
Bembo (Peter), IV. 560.
Bembook, XX. 94.
Beminster, in Dorsetshire, IV. 471.
Benares, in Hindostan, IV. 560—com¬
merce of, XI. 386.
Benavides, VI. 543.
Benavidids (Marcus Mantua), IV. 561.
Benbecula, island, IV. 561.
Benbovv (Admiral), his gallant exploit
and death, V. 368.
Bencaped, IV. 562.
Bench, IV. 561—Free, ib.—King’s, ib.
Benchers, IV. 561.
Bencoolen, IV. 561; XX. 807-8.
Bend, in heraldry, IV. 562; XI. 248.
Bender, Russian town, IV. 562.
Bendida, IV. 562.
Bending, IV. 562.
Bends, in a ship, IV. 562.
Bendy, in heraldry, IV. 562.
Bene, Sardinian city, IV. 562.
Benedetti (T. B.), mechanical topics dis¬
cussed by, XIV. 350.
Benedetto, his work on geometrical ana¬
lysis, I. 436.
Benedicite, IV. 562.
Benedict XIV. (Pope), IV. 562.
 (Saint), IV. 562.
 , abbot of Peterborough in the
twelfth century, IV. 562.
Benedictines, IV. 562.
Benediction, IV. 563.
Benefice, IV. 563.
Beneficiarii, IV. 563.
Beneficiary, IV. 564.
Beneficium, IV. 564.
Benefield (Sebastian), IV. 564.
Benefit of clergy, VI. 739.
Benevente. in Portugal, IV. 564.
Benevento, in Italy, IV. 564.
Beneventum,IV.564.
Benevolence, sources of, I. 367 ; XX. 82
—inward delight arising from the
practice of, overlooked by Bentham’s
followers, I. 380—deficient in the
Asiatics, III. 693—instinctive, XV.
458; XVII. 463.
Benevolent affections, difference be¬
tween them and self-love, I. 344.
Benezet (Anthony), his opposition to the
slave-trade, XX. 384.
Bengal, IV. 564; XI. 415, 446—Pre¬
sidency of, 463.
Bengal-lights, XVIII. 757.
Bengalee era, VI. 664.
Bengalees, XI. 395—their language,
XVII. 385.
Benguela, in Africa, IV. 570.
Benham House, IV. 586. «
Benhinnom, IV. 571.
Beni, river, XVII. 92.
Beni Arax, Arabian tribe, IV. 571.
Benicarlo, Spanish city, IV. 571.
Beniganim, Spanish town, IV. 571.
Beni Harb, Arabian tribe, III. 330.
Beni-Hassan, antiquities of, VIII. 544.
Benin, IV. 571. See Niger, XVI. 218.
Benish-days, IV. 572.
Benjamin of Tudela, X. 397.
Bennati (Dr F.), on musical instru¬
ments, XV. 612—on the human voice,
XVII. 684.
Bennet (Henry), earl of Arlington in
the 17th century, IV. 572.
 (Dr Thomas), IV. 572.
 (Mr), on the flying fish, XII. 201
—on electricity, VIII. 602, 604—his
electrical doubler, 652—his gold-leaf
electrometer, 654 — on the serpent-
eater, XVI. 565—on several other
birds, 587, 603, 619.
Bennett (James), on ship-building,
XX. 242—his Tables of timbers, XXI.
304, 306-8,
BEN—BER
Benowm, African town, IV. 572.
Benserade (Isaac de), IV. 572.
Bensheim, IV. 573.
Benson (Dr), on structure of bones,
XVII. 601.
 (George), IV. 573.
Bentham (General), on Brunei’s block-
machinery, IV. 704 — his improve¬
ments in dock-yards, VIII. 76, 77, 84,
88.
 (Jeremy), on the law of nature,
I. 92-3—on blind veneration for anti¬
quity, 95—character of him and his
followers, 377—his Fragment on Go¬
vernment, ib. — his tract upon the
Hard Labour Bill, ib.—his Letters on
Usury, ib.—his writings on Jurispru¬
dence, 378 ; XII. 637, et seq.—has
not reached the most desirable dis¬
tinction in Ethical Theory, I. 379—
preaches the doctrine of utility with
the zeal of a discoverer, ib.—confuses
moral approbation with the moral
qualities, ib.—his followers have over¬
looked the inward delight which arises
from virtuous conduct, 380 — his
merit as a reformer of Jurisprudence,
384-—treats Ethics too juridically, ib.
—coincides with the Epicureans in
some points, ib.—revolution which his
style underwent, 385—Dumont’s lite¬
rary connection with, 386 ; VIII. 265,
266—on the penal code, XII. 639—on
legislation, XIII. 167, 177, 192—on
prisons, XVIII. 574, 586, et seq.—on
punishment, 731.
 (Thomas), bishop, IV. 573.
Bentheim, in Hanover, IV. 573.
Benticles, XII. 175.
Bentinck (William Henry Cavendish),
Duke of Portland, IV. 573.
Bentivoglio (Guido), IV. 574.
 , Italian town, IV. 574.
Bentley (Richard), IV. 574 ; XX. 726
—his controversy about the Epistles
of Phalaris, IV. 140—his criticism on
Le Clerc’s edition of Menander, V.
718—his quarrel with Burman, 719—
Cumberland’s work on the Law of
Nature revised by, VII. 539—his cha¬
racter as a scholar and a critic, 546—
his emendations of Horace, ib.—on
Homer’s poems, XL 542.
Benzoic acid, VI. 429.
 ether, VI. 441.
Benzoin, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Beranger, poetry of, XVIII. 166.
Berar, in Hindostan, IV. 578.
Berard, his method of manufacturing
alum, II. 577—on heat, XL 193—on
the spectrum, XVI. 419, 421.
Beraun, in Bohemia, IV. 578.
Berber, in Nubia, XVI. 294.
Berberideae, in botany, V. 53, 96.
Berbers, an African race, II. 223, 230,
503 ; IV. 364; IX. 376, 377—their
language, XTII. 94.
Berbice, IV. 578.
Berchem (Nicholas), IV. 580.
Berchett (Peter), IV. 581.
Berchtesgaden, in Bavaria, IV. 581.
Berdash, IV. 581.
Berecynthia, IV. 581.
Berend Island, XVI. 263.
Berengarianism, IV. 581.
Berenger (James), his anatomical dis¬
coveries, II. 693, 697.
Berenice, IV. 581; XIX. 405.
 , Egyptian city, VIII. 560.
Berenice’s Hair, constellation, VII. 135.
Beresford (Marshal), V. 530.
Berewicha, IV. 581.
Berezina, river, Napoleon’s passage of
the, X. 159.
Berezov, Siberian town, IV. 581.
Berezovskoi, IV. 581.
Berg, in Westphalia, IV. 582.
 (St Winox), IV. 582,
Bergamo, in Lombardy, IV. 582.
 (James Philip de), IV. 582.
Bergamot, IV. 582.
Bergara, Spanish city, IV. 582.
Bergen, IV. 582.
BER
Bergen (De), notice of his anatomical
labours, II. 702.
Bergen-op-Zoom, IV. 582—fortifica¬
tions and sieges of, VII. 30.
Bergerac, in France, IV. 582.
  (Cyrano de), his philosophical
romance, II. 179.
Bergheim, IV. 583.
Berghem (Nicholas), IV. 580.
Berghmont, IV. 583.
Bergman (Sir Torbern), IV. 583—on
alum, II. 571—on the blowpipe, IV.
712, 713—on the nature of brutes, V.
615—his chemical labours, VI. 350,
352—on chemical affinity, 356—on
crystallization, VII. 506, 511—on
dyeing blue, VIII. 328.
Bergomum, IV. 583.
Bergoo, African country, IV. 583.
Bergovacs, IV. 586.
Bergylt, fish, XII. 174.
Berczabern, in Bavaria, IV. 584.
Beria, Berie, or Berry, IV. 584.
Bering (Sinus), Danish poet, IV. 584.
Beris, insect, IX. 264.
Berkeley, (George), bishop of Cloyne,
IV. 584—refutation of a fallacy in his
work on Vision, I. 244—his interview
with Malebranche, SO—character of
his genius, 163—Pope’s veneration
for, ib.—his popularity made meta¬
physics fashionable, 164—chief aim of
his work on Vision, ib.—his doctrine
unknown to the ancients, ib.—merit
of the new theory of vision not exclu¬
sively his own, 165—’did not lay claim
to complete originality, 166—sense in
which he employed the term sugges¬
tion, 167—his object in denying the
existence of matter, 168—value which
he attached to his system of idealism,
and the impression it made, 168, 169
—his theory of Vision contains a
great discovery in mental philosophy,
349—his speculations not sceptical,
ib.—his talents and virtues praised by
all, 350—his attempt to reclaim the
natives of North America, ib.—made
bishop of Cloyne, ib.—his patriotism
with regard to Ireland, ib.—his ge¬
neral principles of Ethics, 351—his
graceful and beautiful diction, ib.;
XXL 89—his reasonings undoubtedly
produced the scepticism of Hume, I.
352—notice of his Analyst, 534—his
attack on the calculus, IX. 637—his
philosophy, XII. 296—on the analysis
of infinites, XIV, 323—on abstract
ideas, XIV. 622—on the non-existence
of matter, 649—on the source of mo¬
tion, XV. 576—on Plato, XVII. 797
—on wealth, XVIII. 273, note 2.
 , in Gloucestershire, IV. 585—
vale of, X. 587—ship-canal, XVI. 13
—murder of Edward II. in the castle
of, VIII. 727.
Berkhamstead (Great), IV. 585.
Berkofdscha, Turkish city, IV. 586.
Berkshire, IV. 586—breed of pigs, II.
338—AVilts Canal, XVI. 21.
Berlin, IV. 587—Royal Academy of
Sciences at, II. 70—botanical school
of, V. 81—Napoleon’s decree at, X.
144—Royal Library of, XIII. 313—
university of, XVIII. 699.
 vehicle, IV. 587.
Berme, in fortification, IAr. 587.
Bermijo, river, XVII. 63.
Bermudas, IV. 587—spiders’ webs in,
III. 355—Berkeley’s project of a col¬
lege in, IV. 584.
Bermudez (John), Portuguese physician,
his travels in Abyssinia, II. 52.
 (General), VII. 102.
Bernadotte, V. 536 ; X. 101, et seq.—
his accession to the crown of Sweden,
XXL 29.
Bernard (Saint), IV. 588 — crusade
preached by, VII. 485.
  (Dr Edward), IV. 589 — his
translation of part of a treatise of
Apollonius, III. 288.
 —— (James), IV. 589,
BER
Bernard (the Great St), mountain in
Switzerland, IV. 589.
Bernard’s Inn, London, XII. 282.
Bernardin (Genga), on anatomy, II. 703.
Bernardine (St), IV. 589.
Bernardines, monks, IV. 589.
Bernay, in France, IV. 589.
Bernburg, IV. 589.
Berncastel, IV. 590.
Berne, in Switzerland, IV. 590—coins
of, XV. 407, 409.
Berne-machine, IV. 590.
Bernera, Berneray, or Barnera, an
island in Lewis, IV. 590.
Bernesque poetry, XVIII. 160.
Bernicle, bird, XVI. 636.
Bernier (Francis), French traveller,
IV. 590—his writings, I. 108.
 (Nicholas), musician, I\r. 590.
Bernier’s Island, IV. 590.
Bernieres (Monsieur), his large burning-
lens, V. 738.
Bernini (John L.), IV. 590—his stylo
of architecture, III. 427—his sculp¬
ture, XX. 8.
Bernouilli (Daniel), IV. 594—on hy¬
drodynamics, I. 607 ; XII. 3, 4, 76—
sketch of his life and character, I.
607—singularly happy in his sober
application of analysis, 608—clearly
established the true theory of the vi¬
brations of a musical chord, 612—on
the gradation of atmospheric density,
IV. 398—on the resolution of forces,
VIII. 358—his dipping needle, XIII.
768—on mechanics, XIV. 353—on
probability, XVIII. 592—on the re¬
sistance of fluids, XIX. 176—his pro¬
posed steam-navigation, XX. 687.
 —(James), IV. 591—an able co¬
adjutor of Leibnitz in illustrating the
new analysis, I. 520—explained some
of the most difficult problems of the
infinitesimal analysis, 529—works of,
530—his original mode of treating
the problem of the centre of oscilla¬
tion, 603—sketch of his life and cha¬
racter, ib. — his formula; for the
chords of multiple arcs, II. 493—
his contributions to mathematics,
XIV. 319—his dispute with his bro¬
ther, 320—on probability, XVIII.
592—his problem of the elastic curve,
XX. 762—on the calculus of varia¬
tions, XXL 557.
 — (James), the younger, 1Y. 595.
 (John), IV. 592—an able coad¬
jutor of Leibnitz in illustrating the
new analysis, I. 520—judgment pro¬
nounced by him on the controversy
between Newton and Leibnitz, 522—
solution of problems by, 524—by the
introduction of exponential equations
materially improved a branch of the
calculus, 529—works of, 530—w'as the
first who fully enunciated the proposi¬
tion of the equality of the opposite
momenta, 535—his prize-essay on the
laws of the communication of mo¬
tion, 537—simplified the science of
equilibrium or statics by his prin¬
ciple of virtual velocities, 603—his
principle styled the conservation of
living forces, ib.—sketch of his life
and character, ib.—quotation from his
defence of Leibnitz’s law of conti¬
nuity, 133—had a conviction of this
law previously to communicating with
Leibnitz upon the subject, 258—his
formula for the chords of multiple
arcs, II. 493 — his barometer, IV.
391—on the inverse problem of cen¬
tripetal bodies, VIII. 386 — Kiell’s
challenge to, IX. 636—his contribu¬
tions to mathematics, XIV. 320, et
seq.—on projectiles, XVIII. 115, 649
—on measures of force, 780—on the
calculus of variations, XXI. 557.
 (John), secundus, IV. 595.
 (John), tertius, IV. 595,
 (Nicholas), IV. 593.
 (Nicholas), secundus, IV. 593.
Bernstorff, ministry of, VII, 723.
22
INDEX,
BER—BET
BeroS, zoophyte, XXI. 1018.
Bekcea, IV. 59G.
Berola (Nuova), in Lombardy, IV. 596.
Beroot. See Bairout.
Berooze, in Hungary, IV. 596.
Berosus, IV. 596—dial of, VII. 756.
Berre, French town, IV. 596.
Berretini da Crotona (Pietro), an
Italian painter, IV. 596.
Berretoni (Nicolo), IV. 596.
Berriman (Dr William), IV. 596.
Berrollas’s keyless watch, VI. 800.
Berry, canal of, XVI. 6.
 , in botany, V. 4 9.
Bersabe, IV. 596.
Bersarii, IV. 596.
Berthierite, VI. 459.
Berthollet (Claude Lewis), introducer
of oxymuriatic acid in bleaching, I.
473 ; IV. 679, 680—on the composi¬
tion of the atmosphere, 134—on che¬
mical affinity, VI. 356—on dyeing,
VIII. 297—his connection with La¬
place, XIII. 101—on animal magnet¬
ism, XIV. 13—his machine for chang¬
ing motion, 448.
Bertholon (Abbe), 0n medical electricity,
VIII. 640.
Berthood (Ferdinand), IV. 596.
Bertinoro, Italian city, IV. 597.
Bertrand on spherical trigonometry,
XXL 378.
Berwick (Duke of), IV. 597.
  upon Tweed, IV. 599—native
quicksilver found at, XV. 257, n.
 (North), IV. 599.
Berwickshire, IV. 597—fisheries of,
IX. 602.
Beryl, IV. 599 ; XV. 156; specific
gravity of, XII. 27.
Berytus. See Bairout.
Beryx, fish, XII. 170.
Berzelius, Swedish chemist, VI. 353,
354—his analysis of sugar, V. 247.
Besa, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Besaile, in law, IV. 600.
Besanqon, in France, IV. 600.
BesanTjOi- Bezant, a coin, IV. 600.
Besant’s water-wheels, XII. 93.
Besiiesk, in Russia, IV. 600.
Besingheim, in Wirtemberg, IV. 600.
Besistan, IV. 600.
Be-Sitoon, sculptures on, XVII. 257.
Besoul, or Vesoul, IV. 600.
Besozzi (Ambrogio), painter, IV. GOO.
Bessarabia, XIX. 570.
Bessarion, archbishop of Nice, IV. 601.
Bessel on the motions of the fixed stars,
IV. 44—on the pendulum, XVII. 203
—on the celestial arc, XXI. 358.
Bessica, in ancient Thrace, IV. 601.
Bessus, XVII. 260—Darius killed by,
XIII. 632—his death, 634.
Best ail, or Bestial, IV. 601.
Bestiarii, IV. 601.
Beszprim, in Hungary, IV. 601.
Betancourt (M.), his machine for chang¬
ing motion, XIV. 449—his experi¬
ments on the force of steam, XX. 578.
Betanzos, Spanish city, IV. 601.
Betel, IV. 601.
Betelfagdi, Arabian town, IV. 602.
Betel-Nut Island, XVIII. 534,
Bethabara, IV. 602.
Bethagla, or Beth-hagla, IV. 602.
Bethany, IV. 602.
Betharamphtha, IV. 602.
Betharan, IV. 602.
Bethaven, IV. 602.
Bethel, IV. 603.
Bethelsdorp, X. 613.
Bethesda, IV. 603.
Bethlehem, IV. 603; XVI. 741.
■   Hospital, London, XIII. 515.
Bethlehemites, or Bethlemites, a kind
of monks, IV. 603.
Bethoron (Upper and Nether), IV. 603.
Beth-peor, IV. 603.
Bethphage, IV. 603.
Bethsaida, IV. 603 ; XVI. 744.
Bethsan, or Bethsean, IV. 603.
Bethune, Duke of Sully. See Sully.
— , in France, IV. 603.
BET—BIB
Bethylus, insect, IX. 227.
 , bird, XVI. 568.
Betis, governor of Gaza, IV. 603.
Betjuanas, V. 21.
Betlis, Armenian town, IV. 603.
Betrothment, IV. 603.
Betterton (Thomas), IV. 603.
Bettiah, in Hindostan, IV. 604.
Bettinelli (Xavier), IV. 604.
Bettooriah, in Bengal, IV. 606.
Betcleios (Sixtus), IV. 606.
Betulinere, in botany, V. 131.
Betwah, river, IV. 606.
Beutelspach, in Wirtemberg, IV. 606.
Bedthen, in Silesia, IV. 606.
Beuzert, IV. 655.
Bevan (B.), on the adhesion of nails to
wood, XIV. 458.
   (R.), on the modulus of torsion
in woods and metals, XIV. 403.
Bevel, IV. 606—bevel-angle, ib.
Beveland (North and South), IV. 606.
Bevelling, in ship-building, IV. 606 ;
XX. 275, 280, et seq.
Beverage, IV.607.
Beveridge (William), IV. 607.
Beverland (Hadrian), IV. 607.
Beverley, in Yorkshire, IV. 607 —
minster of, III. 455, 456, 457, 474.
 , in Massachusetts, XIV. 305.
 (John of), IV. 607.
Beverungen, German town, IV. 607.
Bevile, in heraldry, IV. 607.
Bevin (Elway), musician, IV. 607.
Bewan, XX. 478.
Bewdley, in Worcestershire, IV. 607.
Bewick (John), his wood-engravings,
XXL 917.
 (Thomas), on British birds, XVI.
553, 638—his wood-engravings, XXI.
917.
Bewits, in falconry, IV. 607.
Bey, IV. 607.
Beyah, river, IV. 607.
Beyer on x’are books, IV. 625.
Beyhar, town in Bengal, IV. 607.
Beykaneer, IV. 607, 450.
Beyra, or Beira, IV. 609.
Beyramich, IV. 607.
Beys (Giles), printer, IV. 609.
Beza (Theodore), IV. 609.
Bezant, or Besant, a coin, IV. 600.
Bezoar, IV. 610—sp. gr. of, XII. 27.
Bezoardic, IV. 610.
Bezout (Stephen), notice of his life and
writings, I. 596.
Bezhtics, or Besozzi (Ambrogio), an
Italian painter, IV. 600.
Bhadrinath, IV. 610.
Bhagmutty, river, IV. 610.
Bhascara, Hindoo algebraist, II. 425.
Bhatgang, or Bhatgong, IV. 610.
Bhattia, IV. 610.
Bhatts, XI. 31, 397.
Bheels, IV. 610 ; XI. 32, 397, 439.
Bhilwara, XVI. 676.
Bhooj, VII. 563.
Bhurtpore, town in Hindostan, IV.
610—sieges of, XI. 436, 440.
Bia, IV. 611.
Bi.*um, IV. 611.
Biafora, IV.611.
Biafra, African country, IV. 611.
Biala, a Polish town, IV. 611.
Bialystock, Russian city, IV. 611.
Bianchi (Francesco), IV. 611.
Bianchini (Francis), IV. 611—on the
planet Venus, 27.
Bianconi (Mr), XXI. 315.
Biar, Spanish town, IV. 611.
Biarchcs, IV. 612.
Bias, Greek sage, IV. 612.
Bibars, sultan, XVI. 758.
Bibbiena, Italian comic writer, VIII.
158.
Biberach, in Wirtemberg, IV. 612.
Bibiena (Ferdinand Galli), IV. 612.
Bibio, insect, IX. 264.
Bible, IV. 612 ; XIX. 780—Alexan¬
drian MS., II. 414—variations in the
copies of Moses’ writings as to ante¬
diluvian chronology, III. 245—Apo¬
crypha, 285; IV. 613 ; XII. 561 ;
BIB—BIC
XIX. 785—first printed edition of the.
IV. 624 ; XVIII. 547—Bowyer’s Greek
Testament, V. 157—R. Boyle’s exer¬
tions for translation and diffusion of,
167—its sufficiency as a guide to sal¬
vation maintained by the dissenters
in 1772, 395—concordances of the,
785 ; VII. 196—the canon, VI. 90 ;
VIII. 394—is the standard of faith,
VI. 621—its inspiration and authen¬
ticity, ib.; XII. 295—chronological
discrepance of the Hebrew, Samari¬
tan, and Greek texts, VI. 656; VII.
455—Clermont MS. of Paul’s epistles,
VI. 743 — deutero-canonical books,
VII. 742—Sir Wm. Drummond on
the historical books of Old Testament,
VIII. 215—its perusal first permit¬
ted and afterwards prohibited by
Henry VIII., 751—opinions of the
Ebionites concerning the canon, 394—
Erasmus’s edition of the New Testa¬
ment, IX. 357—Galileo on science and
Scripture, X. 291, n. 2—Geddes’s trans¬
lation of the, 375—Grotius’s notes on
the, XI. 6—Hebrew language of the,
200—Origen’s Hexapla, 289—inter¬
pretation of the, XII. 331—Lejay’s
Polyglott, 533—the Septuagint, 569 ;
IV. 613 ; XX. 103 — Kennicott’s
Hebrew Bible, XII. 692—various read¬
ings in the Hebrew Bible, 692, 701
—Luther’s translation of New Tes¬
tament, XIII. 599 ; and of Bible, 601
—how regarded by the Mahomme-
dans, XIV. 33—manner in which
the Hebrew books were originally
written, 301—scarce in Norway, XVI,
273—Pagninus’s translation of, 692—
palimpsest MSS. of, 763—style of New
Testament, XVII. 407, 408—Gothic
translation of New Testament, 418—
poetical books of, XVIII. 146—Popish
opinions respecting, 4 07—early English
editions, 553—incorrect English edi¬
tions, 558—Italian translation, pub¬
lished by order of Sixtus V., XX. 372
—study of the, XXI. 203—Walton’s
Polyglott, 731—Wetsteinon the vari¬
ous readings of New Testament, 865
—New Testament divided into verses
by R. Stephens, XX. 720—Tynedale’s
translation of New Testament, XXI.
434—ancient Valdensian version of
New Testament, 544—Valdo’s exer¬
tions to translate and circulate the,
545—Wycliffe’s translation of the,
951—extract from that version, IX.
40. See Septuagint, Targum, Theo¬
logy.
Bible Societies, IV. 619—in Dublin,
VIII. 245—in Russia, XIX. 581.
Bibliander (Theodore), IV. 620.
Bibliography, IV. 620 —booksellers’
marks, 791—form of ancient books,
VIII. 37—Dryander’s-Catalogue of Sir
Joseph Banks’s Library of Natural
History, 221; IV. 630 —Gesner’s Bib-
liotheque Universelle, X. 491—illumi¬
nation of books, XII. 249—new bib¬
liographical system of classification,
XIII. 316. See Books, Libraries.
Bibliomancy, IV. 633.
Bibliomania, IV. 630.
Bibliotheca, IV. 633.
llibliotheque Universelle, X. 491.
Biblis, insect, IX. 242.
Biblists, IV. 633.
Bicanere, IV. 607.
Bicarburet of hydrogen, VI. 371.
Biccarino, Neapolitan city, IV. 633.
Bice, or Bise, IV. 633.
Bicester, or Bisseter, IV. 633.
Bichat (M. F. X.), IV. 633—his ana¬
tomical works, II. 704, 828—on fat,
716—on the arteries, 718 — on the
veins, 720, et seq.—on the capillary
system, 723—on the exhalants, 727,
728—on the lymphatics, 730—on liga¬
ments, 739—on cartilage, 748—on
fibro-cartilage, ib.—on mucous mem¬
brane, 752—his classification of the
animal functions, XVII. 590—on the
BIC—BIN
membranes, 598—on the fibrous sys¬
tem, 603—on physiology, 729.
Bichuanas, V. 21.
Biclinicm, IV. 635.
Bicuspid teeth, in man, II. 780.
Bidal, IV. 635.
Biddenden, town in Kent, IV. 635.
Bidding, IV. 635.
Bidding Prayer, IV. 635.
Biddle (John), IV. 635.
Biddoomahs, IV. 636.
Bideford, or Biddeford, IV. 636.
Bidens, bird, XVI. 565.
Bidental, IV. 636.
Bidentales, IV. 636.
Bidentes, IV. 636.
Bidet, IV. 636.
Bidloo (Godfrey), IV. 636—his works
on anatomy, II. 701.
Bidone on hydrodynamics, XII. 7.
Bidschow, in Bohemia, IV. 636.
Biedencopf, IV. 636.
Biela’s comet, IV. 38.
Bielfeld, in Westphalia, IV. 636.
Bielitz, IV. 636.
Biella, IV. 636,
Bier, IV. 637.
Bifrons, IV. 637.
Biga, ancient chariot, IV. 637.
Bigamy, IV. 637.
Bigan, in France, IV. 638.
Biggar, in Lanarkshire, IV. 638.
Biggleswade, in Bedfordshire, IV. 638
Bighorn river, IV. 638. (
Bight, IV. 638.
Bignon (Jerome), IV. 638.
Bigoniaceoe, in botany, V. 121.
Bigot, IV. 638.
Bihar, intermittent spring at, XVII. 529.
Bija Ganita, Hindoo algebraist, treatise
of, II. 425, 426.
Bijanagtjr, Hindoo city, IV. 638.
Bilbilis, V. 785.
Bilboa, in Spain, IV. 638—sieges of, in
1835 and 1836, XX. 512, 513.
Bilboes, IV. 639.
Bildulgerid, or Bled-el-Jereede, African
territory, IV. 361, 692.
Bile, XVII. 655—composition and pro¬
perties of, VI. 496 ; XVII. 631—of in¬
sects, IX. 86.
Bilfinger (George Bernard), IV. 639.
Bilge of a ship, IV. 640.
Bilinguis, IV. 640.
Bilious, IV. 640.
Bill, IV. 640—of Entry—of Lading—
of Mortality—in Parliament, ib.
 (Mr),his plan for preventing dry
rot, XX. 274.
Bills of Exchange, IV. 640, 780 ; VII.
458; IX. 436 ; XV. 392—fictitious,
IX. 438—negotiation of, 453—history
and advantages of, 454—laws and cus¬
toms respecting, 456—wherein diffe¬
rent from bank-notes, XVII. 20.
Bill-book, in book-keeping, IV. 780.
Billach, IV. 642.
Billerecay, town in Essex, IV. 642.
Billet, in heraldry, IV. 642; XI. 251.
Billeting, IV. 642.
Billeton, island, IV. 642.
Billiards, IV. 642.
Billingen, IV. 643.
Billings (Capt.), his voyage of discovery,
II. 403.
Billon, IV. 643.
Billy (slubbing), XXI. 932.
Bilma, African town, IV. 643.
Bilsah, town in Hindostan, IV. 643.
Bilshofen, in Bavaria, IV. 643.
Bilson (Thomas), bishop, IV. 643.
Bilston, in Staffordshire, IV. 643.
Bimlipatam, IV. 643.
Binacle, IV. 643.
Binary, arithmetic, IV. 643—measure,
644—number, ib.
Binchester, Roman station at, VIII. 291.
Binder’s cutting-press, XVIII. 528.
Bing, IV. 644.
Bingazi. See Cyrenaica.
Bingen, IV. 644.
Bingham (Joseph), IV. 644.
 , in Nottinghamshire, IV. 644.
INDEX
23
BIN—BIS
Binglet, in Yorkshire, IV. 644.
 (Mr), on the ox, XIV, 166.
Binn, IV. 644.
Binomial, IV. 644.
Bintang, island, IV. 644.
Biobio, river, VI. 523.
Biography, IV. 644 ; V. 28.
Biology, II. 685.
Bion, IV. 644.
Biot (Mons.), on the transmission of
sound, II. Ill, 113—his aerial ascent
with Gay-Lussac, 192—charge by him
against Galileo, IV. 385, n. 2—on ba¬
rometrical measurements, 399—on
chromatics, VI. 641, et seq.—on elec¬
tricity, VIII. 573, 589, 617—on elec¬
trical light, 584-5 — on magnetism,
XIII. 691, 708, 709, 758—on optics,
XVI. 366, 479, 501, 504—on polari¬
zation of light, XVIII. 243—his for¬
mula representing the law of the
relation between the temperature
and elasticity of steam, XX. 594—on
electro-chemical decomposition, XXI.
678.
Biothanati, IV. 644.
Biothanatos, IV. 644.
Biouac, IV. 644.
Bipapilaria, mollusca, XV. 370.
Bipartiti, insects, IX. 119.
Bipes, reptile, XIX. 150.
Biquadkate, or Biquadratic, IV. 644.
Biqoadbatic Equation—Parabola—
Power—Root, IV. 644-5.
Bir, IV. 537.
Birbeck (Mr), on cross breeds of sheep,
II. 336 —on the state of the agricul¬
turists in France, VII. 392.
 (Ur), how far the originator of
Mechanics’ Institutions, XIV. 460.
Bibbhoom, in Hindostan, IV. 645.
Bibch (Dr Thomas), IV. 645—his col¬
lection of works on human mortality,
XV. 515.
Birch-barkused as a dye-stuff, VIII. 332.
Birch-trees, XVII. 784, 790.
Bibd (William), IV. 646.
 (Dr Golding), his decomposing
galvanic battery, XXI. 673—on mag¬
neto-electricity, 693.
Bird’s optical instruments. III. 748.
Birds, considered as food, IX. 723—
some poisonous, XIV. 507—in herald¬
ry, IV. 646. See Ornithology.
Bird’s-eye view, XVII. 286.
Bird-lime, IV. 646.
Birds’ nests, edible, IV. 646.
Bire, or Vire, IV. 646.
Birkenhead (Sir John), IV. 646.
Birket-el-Keroun, VIII. 550.
Birmans. See Barmans.
Birmingham, IV. 647—Soho, near, V.
148—riots at, in 1791, 460—roof of
the theatre of, VI. 169—Deaf and
Dumb Asylum, VII. 657—hardware
manufactures, VIII. 775—canals pro¬
ceeding from, XVI. 821—railway to
London, XIX. 23, et seq. *
Birnbaum, IV. 650.
Biron (A. de G., Lord of), IV. 650.
Birota, or Birotum, IV. 651.
Birr, Irish town, IV. 651.
Birrus, IV. 651.
Birth, pride of, XVIII. 530—primogeni¬
ture, 533.
Births, their number dependent on the
number of deaths, XVIII. 417—regis¬
tration of, XIX. 98.
Birtley, salt springs at, VIII. 290.
Bisaccia, Neapolitan city, IV. 651.
Bisaccta, IV. 651.
Biscara, town of Algiers, IV. 651.
Biscatchos of Buenos Ayres, V. 641.
Biscay, IV. 651. See Cantabria. Lan¬
guage of, XIII. 88.
Bisceglia, Neapolitan city, IV. 651.
Bischarries, IX. 377.
Bischofsheim, IV. 651.
Bischop (John de), IV. 651.
Biscuit, IV. 651.
Bishops, IV. 651; XL 489, et se<?.—whe¬
ther identical with presbyters, XVIII.
523—English, VIII. 788 ; XIII. 213;
d
BIS—BLA
their right to sit in parliament, IX.
12. See Episcopacy.
Bishops-Auckland, a town in Durham,
IV. 189 ; VIII. 291.
Bishops’ Bible, IV. 618.
Bishop’s Court, IV. 652.
 Castle, a market-town in Shrop¬
shire, IV. 652.
  Stortford, a market-town in
Hertfordshire, IV. 652.
 (Waltham), a market-town in
Hampshire, IV. 653,
 (Wearmouth), in the county of
Durham, IV. 653.
Bishoping, IV. 653.
Bisignano, Neapolitan city, IV. 653.
Bisley, in Gloucestershire, IV. 653.
Bismark (Count), on the military cha¬
racter of the French, III. 601.
Bismillah, IV. 653.
Bismuth, IV. 653 ; VI. 416—native,
XV. 164—salts of oxide of, VI. 451—
specific gravity of, XII. 27—its mag¬
netism, XIII. 709—poisonous quality
of its subnitrate, XIV. 502—cohesion
of, XX. 757.
Bismuth-glance and ochre, XV. 169.
Bisnagar. See Bijanagur.
Bisomum, IV. 653.
Bison, XIV. 166—of the United States,
XXL 456.
Bissagos, African islands, IV. 653.
Bissat (Peter), IV. 654.
Bissextile year, IV. 654 ; VI. 5.
Bissolee, in Hindostan, IV. 654.
Bistoury, surgical instrument, IV. 654.
Bistre, IV. 654.
Bisulphocarbonate, VI. 457.
Bisulphocyanodides, VI. 456.
Bisulphuret of hydrogen, VI. 376—of
carbon, 377.
Bisztritz, in Hungary, IV. 654.
Bithynia, IV. 654.
Bithynus, insect, IX. 187.
Bitoma, insect, IX. 176.
Biton, VI. 737.
Bitonto, Neapolitan city, IV. 654.
Bits, in ship-building, XX. 284.
Bittacus, insect, IX. 212.
Bitter, IV. 654.
Bitterfeld, in Saxony, IV. 654.
Bittern, XVI. 619.
Bitumen, IV. 654 ; VI. 443—specific
gravity of, XII. 27—Persian, XVII.
243—wells of, in Syria, XXL 60, 61.
Bituminous shale, II. 574.
Biumbres, IV. 654.
Bivalves, IV. 654.
Bivalvia, mollusca, XV. 366,
Bivouac, IV. 644.
Bixinese, in botany, V. 97.
Bizarre, IV. 654.
Bizerta, or Beuzert, IV. 655.
B’hamo, fair of, IV. 244.
Blaardingen,IV. 655.
Black, colour, IV. 658—in crayon-paint¬
ing, VII. 453—dyeing of, VIII. 342—
varieties of, XV. 126, 128.
 (Dr Joseph), IV. 655—his dis¬
covery of latent heat, I. 644 ; XL 189,
191, et seq.—almost the inventor of
the balloon, II. 181—his chemical la¬
bours, VI. 349—his portable furnace,
X. 273—his balance, XIV. 456.
Black-books, IV. 658.
Black-death in the fourteenth century,
XXL 949.
Blackbird, XVI. 571.
Black-cap, bird, XVI. 576.
Black-cock, XVI. 611—shooting, XX.
316.
Black Forest, in Suabia, IV. 658.
Blackfriars, IV. 658.
  Bridge, London, III. 387 ; V.
271 ; XIII. 511—centre employed for,
VI. 287, 290.
Black-lead, IV. 658. See Plumbago.
Black-Mail, IV. 658.
Black-Monks, IV. 658.
Black Sea, IV. 658; IX. 408, 424.
Black-Tin, IV. 663.
Black-Wad, IV. 663.
Black-Whytlof, IV. 663.
BLA
Black-Work, IV. 668.
Blackall (Offspring), IV. 668.
Blackburn, in Lancashire, IV. 663.
Blacking, IV. 663.
Blacklock (Thomas), IV. 663, 695.
Blackmore (Sir Richard), IV. 665.
Blackness, IV. 665.
Blackstone (Sir William), IV. 665—
on duelling, VIII. 254—on law, XIII.
128—on punishment, 132, 170—on
nobility, XVI. 235—on toleration, 241
—on royal prerogative, XVIII. 518.
Blackwall (Anthony), IV. 666.
  (Mr), his observations on the
habits of spiders. III. 356.
Blackwater, river in Cork, VII. 329 ;
XXI. 810—its navigation, XVI. 22.
 , river in Galway, X. 303.
  and Chelmer navigation, XVI.
11.
Blackwell (Thomas), IV. 667 — his
eulogium of Bishop Berkeley, 585.
  (Alexander), IV. 667.
Bladder (urinary), anatomy of the, II.
823—latent calculi in the, XVII. 479
its diseases in the domestic animals,
XXI. 628—stone in the ; see Calculus,
Lithotomy.
 (swimming) of fishes, XII. 153,
161.
Bladder-nut tree, XVII. 787.
Blade, IV. 667.
Bladen (Martin), IV. 667.
Bladum, IV. 668.
Blaes, the valves of the lacteals disco¬
vered by, II. 699.
Blaeu (William), printer, IV. 668.
Blagden (Dr), on aurora borealis, IV.
198—on fire-balls in the air, IX. 587
—on the restoration of decayed inks,
XII. 278.
Blagrave (John), IV. 668.
Blain, IV. 668 ; XXI. 622.
Blainville (Monsieur), his classification
of animals, III. 170, 177—on the class
Infusoria, 182.
Blair (Dr Hugh), IV. 668—on Addi¬
son’s statement regarding the second¬
ary qualities of bodies, I. 272—on
beauty, IV. 487—on the works of
Ossian, XVI. 660.
  (James), IV. 671.
 (John), IV. 671.
 (Robert), IV. 671—poetry of,
XVIII. 172.
 (Dr Robert), his achromatic te¬
lescope, II. 105 ; XVI. 363—his mode
of correcting spherical aberration, 398
—on the spectrum, 411—his aplanatic
telescopes, XVI. 413—his improve¬
ments on the glasses of telescopes, I.
635; XXL 161.
Blair-Athole, in Perthshire, IV. 672.
Blair-Drummond Moss, near Stirling,
clearing of, II. 314.
Blaise, IV. 672.
Blake (Robert), English admiral, IV.
672 ; XL 523.
  (Mr), on exchange, IX. 443.
Blanc (Mont), IV. 674—ascents of, II.
562—Saussure’s observations on the
height of, IV. 401.
Blancards, IV. 674.
Blanchard, aeronaut, II. 188, 189—the
first constructer of parachutes, 190.
 (James), painter, IV. 674.
Blanche-Ferme, IV. 674.
Blanch-holding, in law, IV. 674.
Blanching, IV. 674 —of vegetables,
XIII. 340.
Blanco, African cape, IV. 674.
Blandford, in Dorsetshire, IV. 674.
Blane (Sir Gilbert), on citric acid as a
remedy for the scurvy, XVI. 53.
Blanes, Spanish city, IV. 674.
Blank, IV. 674—Verse, ib.
Blankenburg, in Brunswick, IV. 674.
Blanket, IV. 674—tossing in a, ib.
Blankof (John Teunisz), IV. 674.
Blaps, insect, IX. 164.
Blapsides, insects, IX. 164.
Blase, bishop of Sebasta, IV. 674.
Blasphemy, IV. 674.
BLA—BLO
Blast, IV. 675.
Blast-furnaces, VI. 88; X. 271; XII.
432—hot blast, 439 ; XX. 406.
Blasting, IV. 675 ; XV. 278—mode of
boring in Germany, V. 6.
Blatta, insect, IX. 190.
Blaubeuern, in Wirtemberg, IV. 678.
Blauquillo, VI. 523.
Blavet, canal of, XVI. 6.
Blaye, in France, IV. 678.
Blazoning, or Blazonry, IV. 678.
Bleachers, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Bleaching, IV. 678—Berthollet’s pro¬
cess of bleaching with oxymuriatic
acid, I. 473—introduction of that pro¬
cess into Britain by Mr Watt, XXI.
818—bleaching of paper, XVII. 13,
14—bleaching-powder, IV. 682, 684.
Bleak, fish, XII. 199.
 , angling for, III. 147.
Bled-el-Jereede, or Bildulgerid, an
African territory, IV. 692, 361.
Bleeding. See Blood-letting.
 of a corpse, IV. 693.
Blekede, in Hanover, IV. 693.
Blemmyes, IV. 693; IX. 377.
Blench, or Blanch. See Blanch.
Blende, a mineral, IV. 693; XV. 170
—specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Blenheim, village in Bavaria, IV. 693
—battle of, V. 369; IV. 457.
 House, IV. 693 ; X. 327.
Blenny, or Blennius, fish, XII. 192.
Blepharis, fish, XII. 186.
Bletchingley, in Surrey, IV. 693.
Bletonism, IV. 693.
Bleuland on the villi of the ileum, II.
816.
Bligh (Capt.), long abstinence ofhis crew
from food, III. 167—his voyages for
transplanting the bread-fruit plant,
V. 212—his administration in New
South Wales, XXL 713.
Blind, IV. 693—basket-making by the,
429—asylums for the, in Dublin, VIII.
243; and Edinburgh, 426. See Black-
lock, Blindness.
Blind-coal, IV. 702. See Anthracite.
Blind-worms, XX. 123.
Blinding, a punishment, IV. 702.
Blindness, IV. 702, 703—common in
Egypt. VIII. 516. See Blind.
Blinds, in war, IV. 703.
Blinks, IV. 703.
Blissingen, IV. 703.
Blistering-plasters for the domestic ani¬
mals, XXI. 614, n. 6.
Bloating, IV. 703.
Bloch (Mark Eleazer), IV. 703.
Block, IV. 703.
Block-machinery, IV. 704.
Blockade, in war, IV. 707.
Blocking-course, in architecture, HI.
465; V. 675.
Blockziel, IV. 709.
Blois, in France, IV. 709.
Blon’s (Le) coloured engravings, XV. 3.
Blond (Christopher lo), IV. 709.
Blondeau’s marine barometer, IV. 394.
Blondel (David), IV. 709.
 (Francis), IV. 709 ; XL 42.
Blondus (Flavius), historian, IV. 709.
Blood, II. 712—its phenomena out of the
body, 713—its character in different
animals, III. 158—religious uses of,
IV. 709—chemical composition and
properties of, VI. 492—colouring mat¬
ter of, 494—its use in clarifying, 727
—effect of unoxygenated, on the brain,
VIII. 201—specific gravity of, XII. 27
—Leuwenhoeck’s observations on its
globules, XIII. 256—size of particles
of human, XV. 26—supposed showers
of, XVII. 536 ; XIX. 59—conversion
of chyle into, XVII. 582, 633—arteri-
alization of, 583, 645—nature and pro¬
perties of, 633—quantity of, 641—
Does it contain proximate elements
of all tissues ? 657—of reptiles, XIX.
124—transfusion of, XXL 344—Aven¬
ger of, IV. 710—Field of, ib.—whole
and half, ib. See the next article, and
Respiration.
24
INDEX
BLO—BOA
BOA—BOG
Blood (circulation of the), XVII.
582, 637 ; II. 706—hinted at by Mon-
dino in the 1+th century, 693—par¬
tially announced by Servetus, 697 ;
and by Columbus, 698—and fully
discovered by Harvey, 698; XVII.
727 hepatic, II. 650—organs of, in
man, 818; and in brutes, III. 39—
circulation in the Crustacea, VII. 499
—insects, IX. 82—worms, XI. 216—
fishes, XII. 160; XVII. 716-the mol-
lusca, XV. 327, 351, et se?.—reptiles,
XIX. 124—frogs, 151 — zoophytes
XXI. 990—Leuwenhoeck’s observa
tions on, XIII. 255—course of the
blood through the heart, II. 820.
of Christ, a military order of
BOG—BOM
Mantua, IV. 710.
 — (Precious), nuns, IV.
(Thomas), IV. 710.
710.
Blood-horse, XI. 567.
Blood-hound, XI. 698.
Blood-letting, a source of diagnosis
XVII. 496—in surgery, XX. 840—more
rarely resorted to than formerly, ib.
—bleeding of the domestic animals,
XXI. 613, n. 6.
Blood-spavin, XXI. 617.
Bloodstone, a mineral, IV. 711.
Bloodvessels, Aristotle and others on
the, II. 687, et seq.—structure of ar¬
teries, 716 ; and veins, 719—vessels of
the brain, 811—stomach, 815—colon
and liver, 817—lungs, 821—kidneys
822—womb, 826—and placenta, 827
comparative anatomy of the, III. 39
of the Crustacea, VII. 499—their dis¬
eases in the domestic animals, XXI.
632. See Aneurism, Entomology,
Ichthyology, Ornithology, &c.
Bloreheath, battle of, VIII. 735.
Blosias, XVII. 231.
Blossom, IV. 711.
Blossoming of plants, IV. 711
Blount (Charles), IV. 712.
 (Sir Charles), VIII. 758.
 (Edward), printer, XVIII. 554.
 (Sir Henry), IV. 711.
• (Thomas), IV. 711
 (Sir Thomas Pope), IV. 711
Blow (Dr John), IV. 712.
Blowers of the whale, XIV. 183.
Blowing, IV. 716.
Blowing-machines, IV. 717 ; XVIII.
132—those used in iron-smelting, VI
88—water-machine, XII. 106.
Blown, a disease of cattle, XXI. 624
Blowpipe, IV. 712—how to keep up a
continued blast with the, XVIII. 125
—anatomical, IV. 716.
Blubber, IV. 720—its use as a manure,
II. 305.
Bludenz, in the Tyrol, IV. 720
Blue, IV. 720—colouring matters, VI.
485—in crayon-painting, VII. 453—
dyeing of, VIII. 325, 342—varieties
of, XV. 126—cyanometer, VII. 572.
Bluing, IV. 720—of iron and other
metals, ib.
Blue-bird, XVI. 576.
Blue-John, IV. 720.
Blue Mountains, XXI. 452, 714.
Blue-spar, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Blue-throat, bird, XVI. 575.
Blue-Vitriol, IV. 720 ; XV. 138
Bluff-Head, IV. 720.
Bluhme (Dr), his views respecting Jus
tinian’s code, VI. 716.
Blumberg on Coptic, XI. 313.
Blumenbach on albinos, II. 383—his
classification of animals, III. 170
on the varieties of the human species,
XIV. 199, 201.
Blundell (Lieutenant), killed in a duel,
VIII. 254.
Blunderbuss, IV. 720.
Blushing, IV. 720.
Blyth, river, its navigation, XVI. 8
Blythe on agriculture, II. 257
Bo, islands, IV. 720.
Boas, serpents, XX. 142, 125, 134.
Boad, town in Hindostan, IV. 720
Boadicea, IV. 721; V. 299 ; XIX. 403.
Boag (Mr), on the poison of serpents,
XX. 128.
Boar, IV. 721—its ivory. III. 32—wild,
IV. 721; XIV. 149.
Board, IV. 721.
Boat, IV. 721—of wicker-work, IV.
428—for sailing on ice, XII. 141—for
canals, XVI. 36.
Boat-bill, bird, XVI. 618.
Boating, punishment of, IV. 722.
Boatswain, IV. 722 ; XVI. 53 boat¬
swain’s mate, IV. 722.
Bobac, in zoology, XIV. 131.
Bobbin, IV. 722.
Bobbing for eels, IV. 722.
Bobbinnet, manufacture of, VII. 410 ;
XVI. 281.
Bobilee, Hindoo town, IV. 722.
Boblingen, in Wirtemberg, IV. 722.
Boca-Chica, IV. 722.
Boca-del-Drago, IV. 722.
Bocayrent, Spanish town, IV. 722.
Boccaccio (John), IV. 722.
Boccale, liquid measure, IV. 725.
Boccalini (Trajan), IV. 725.
Boccarella, IV. 725.
Bocchus, XVI. 307.
Boccone (Paolo Sylvio), IV. 725.
Bochart (Samuel), IV. 725.
Bocher (Joan), VII. 446.
Bochius, or Bocqui (John), IV. 726.
Bochnia, in Galicia, IV. 726.
Bochtheim, German town, IV. 726.
Bochum, in Westphalia, IV. 726.
Bockhara. See Bukharia.
Bockholdt (John), anabapatist, II. 679.
Booking, a town in Essex, IV. 726.
Bock-land, IV. 726.
Bocqui (John), IV. 726.
Bocydium, insect, IX. 204.
Bodaert, his classification of animals,
III. 170.
Boddington (T.E.), struck by lightning
VIII. 639.
Boderia, or Bodotria, IV. 726.
Bodin, or Bodinus (John), IV. 726-
high character of, as a philosophical
politician, I. 27—fiis opinion of Ma-
chiavel, 233—absurdity of some of his
speculations, 28—De la Republique,
his most important work,ib.—Sorcery
imputed to, ib. — his work against
Wierus, XXI. 907.
Bodkin, IV. 726.
Bodleian Library, in Oxford, XIII. 298 ;
XVI. 685 ; IV. 726.
Bodley (Sir Thomas), IV. 726.
Bodmer, XIX. 682.
Bodmin, a Cornish town, IV. 727.
Bodoni (Giambatista), IV. 727.
Boduni, VIII. 74.
Body defined, X. 431 ; XIV. 634—com¬
position of bodies, 643—essences of
bodies, 648—distinguished from mind,
670—Plato’s notion of, XVIII. 33.
Boece (Hector). See Boyce.
Boeckh on the prices of commodities in
ancient Athens, IV.‘171—on Greek
inscriptions, XII. 292.
Boedromia, Athenian feasts, IV. 727.
Boedromion, Athenian month, IV. 727.
Boehmen (Jacob), IV. 727.
Bceotia, IV. 727 ; X. 723.
Boerhaave (Herman), a Dutch physi¬
cian, IV. 728—on the distribution of
heat, I. 642—on chemistry, VI. 348
—on physiology, XVII. 729.
Boethius, IV. 729 ; I. 307 ; X\ II. 413
Bog, IV. 730 ; XV. 572—Irish bogs,
XII. 391—bogs of Kerry, 703—of
Allen, 721; XXI. 313—of Kilkenny
XII. 714,
of Gight, IV. 730.
BOM—BON
Bog-spavin, XXI. 617.
Bogalcund, in Hindostan, IV. 730.
Bogals or Boghels, IV. 730.
Bogarmit/e, heretics, IV. 731.
Boghera, in Italy, IV. 731.
Boglifoor, Hindoo town, IV. 731.
Bogoduchow, in Russia, IV. 731.
Bogomili, heretics, IV. 731.
Bogoradsk, in Russia, IV. 731.
Bogorodizk, in Russia, IV. 731.
Bogota (Santa Fe de), IV. 731.
Boguslaw, in Russia, IV. 736.
Bogutschat, in Russia, IV. 736.
Bogwangola, town in Bengal, IV. 736.
Bohaddin, or Boh-a-Eddyn, IV. 736.
Bohea, tea, IV. 737 ; XXI. 133.
Bohemia, IV. 225—silver mines in, XV.
256—heights of mountains of, XVII.
505—conquered by the Poles, XVIII.
185—invaded by the Prussians, 673.
Bohemian Bibles, IV. 617—Brethren,
737—language, XIII. 89,
Bohemond, VII. 285.
Bfihmer on canon law, VI. 93.
Bohn, his works on medical jurispru¬
dence, XIV. 491.
Bohnenberg’s electroscope, XXI. 673.
Bohol, or Bool, IV. 737.
Boiardo (Count Matteo Maria), IV.
737—poetry of, XVIII. 159.
Boigtsberg, in Saxony, IV. 738.
Boileau (Despreaux Nicolas), IV. 738
—poetry of, XVIII. 165.
Boiler-plates, XII. 443.
Boilers of steam-engines, XX. 671.
Boiling, IV. 738—phenomena of, XX.
572, et seq.—by steam, 607.
Boiling-point, its variation at different
heights, IV. 401—its permanence,
however much heat applied, XX. 572.
Boinitz, Hungarian town, IV. 738.
Bois-le-Duc, IV. 738.
Bois de Soignies, IV. 739.
Boissard (John James), IV. 739.
Bojador, African cape, IV. 739.
Bokhara. See Bukharia.
Bolabola, or Borabora, IV. 739.
Bolandus (John), IV. 739.
Bolder-Born spring, XVII. 529.
Bole, a mineral, IV. 739 ; XV. 148
specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Boletic acid, VI. 430.
Boleyn (Anne), IV. 739; HI. 195;
VII. 446 ; VIII. 744-6.
Boli, town in Natolia, IV. 740.
Bolingbroke (Henry St John, Lord
Viscount), IV. 740; V. 375—his cha¬
racter of Marlborough, VI. 688—his
attack upon Pope, XXI. 772—War-
burton’s “ View” of his Philosophy, ib.
Bolis, a meteor, XVII. 542.
Bolitophila, insect, IX. 262.
Bolivar (Simon), IV. 741; VII. 96, et
seq.—his ambitious motives, 7 59—his
anti-republican principles, 104—his
assumption of the dictatorship, 107 —
his death, 110—his proceedings in
Peru, XVII. 299.
Bolivia, IV. 745 ; II. 644—heights of
mountains of, XVII. 505—maps of,
Vol. VI. Plate CLVII-2 ; and Vol.
VII. Plate CL XXVI-2.
Bolkenhain, in Silesia, IV. 761.
Bollards, IV. 761.
Bologna, IV. 761—Institute of, II. 72
—medical school of, 692—library of,
XIII. 309—school of painting, XVI.
719—university, XXI. 488.
Bolognian Stone, IV. 761.
Bolschaia Reka, river, IV. 761
Bolscheretsk, IV. 761.
Bolsec (Jerome), XIII. 271.
Bolsena, lake, XVII. 5.
Bolsover, IV. 324.
Bolster, IV. 761.
Bolswert, engraver, IV. 762 ; IX. 54.
Bolt, IV. 762—bolt-rope, ib.
Boltenia, mollusea, XV. 368,
Bolter, IV. 762.
Bolting, IV. 762.
Bolting-cloth, IV. 762—Mill, ib
Bolton (Edmund), IV. 762.
Bolton-le-Moor, in Lancashire, IV.
762—Manchester, Bolton, and Bury
canal, XVI. 16.
Bomangoi, III. 153.
Bomb, IV. 762 — bomb-vessels, ib.—
bomb-ketch, 766.
Bombacese, in botany, V. 99.
Bombadier, IV. 762.
Bombardo, a musical instrument, IV.
762.
Bombasine, IV. 762.
Bombast, IV. 762 ; X. 710.
Bombay, in Hindostan, IV. 762—Ele¬
phant Isle at, VIII. 663.
Bombelli (Raphael), an Italian mathe¬
matician, discoveries of, I. 442—on
algebra, ib; II. 423; XIV. 316.
Bomberg (Daniel), his Hebrew Bibles,
IV. 614.
Bombinator, reptile, XIX. 158.
Bombus, in music, IV. 766.
-, insect, IX. 235.
Bombycilla, birds, XVI. 570.
Bombycites, insects, IX. 246.
Bombyliarii, insects, IX. 267.
Bombylius, insect, IX. 267.
Bombyx, insect, IX. 247.
Bomilcar, VI. 187.
Bomonici, IV. 766.
Bomst, in Prussia, IV. 766.
Bona, IV. 766—massacre at, II. 510.
Bona Dea—Fides—Mobilia—Notabilia
—Vacantia, IV. 766-7.
Bonaa, island, IV. 767.
Bonald (M. de), his estimate of the
merits of Condillac, I. 177.
Bonaparte (Carlo), on ornithology, XVI.
551.
 — (Louis), XL 527.
(Napoleon). See Napoleon
Bonardi (Abbe), on anonymous books,
IV. 628.
Bonarelli della Rovere (Count
Guid’ Ubaldi), IV. 767.
Bonassus. See Bison.
Bon ATI, Neapolitan city, IV. 767.
Bonaventure (Cardinal), IV. 767.
Bonayista, African island, IV. 767.
Bonawasi, Hindoo town, IV. 767.
Bond (John), IV. 767.
(Mr), on magnetism, XIII. 687
—on navigation, XV. 749, 750.
Bond-timbers, V. 684.
Bondage, IV. 767. See Slavery.
Bondelas, V. 704.
Bondman, IV. 767.
Bondou, African kingdom, IV. 767.
Bones, extraction of ammonia from, II.
662—in funeral solemnities, IV. 768
—their chemical properties and com¬
position, II. 743; VI. 504—Du Ha¬
mel’s experiments on their growth,
VIII. 256—specific gravity of, XII. 27
—fossil, XV. 221, 225-extraction of
gelatine from, XX. 609—their hollow
form an instance of divine wisdom,
766—method of cleaning, whitening,
and tinging, XXI. 430—their diseases
in the domestic animals, 615. See
Ossification.
  (human), II. 759 ; XVII. 580,
581—knowledge of Celsus and Galen
as to their anatomy, II. 689, 690—
their forms, structure, and properties,
740 ; XVII. 599, 615—chemical ana¬
lysis of, II. 743; XVII. 600—their
vessels, II. 743—their development,
744—their functions, 746; XVH. 613
—of the ear, II. 801—ossification,
XVII. 656.
OF THE LOWER ANIMALS, III. 1 ;
XVII. 701, et seq.—of the ear, III.
25—of fishes, XII. 154.
Bone-manure, II. 302.
Bone-mill, description of, II. 355.
Bone-spavin, XXI. 616,
Bonelli (Prof.), on birds, XVI. 551.
Bo’ness, in Linlithgowshire, V. 18-
singular colliery at, VII. 71.
Bonet (Theophilus), IV. 768.
Bonfadio (James), IV. 768.
Bonfini (Anthony), IV. 768.
Bonfrere (James), IV. 768.
Bongars (James), IV. 768.
Bonginese, VI. 270.
Boni (Abbe), on editions of the classics,
IV' 627’
Boniface (Popes of that name), IV.
769—collection of decretals by Boni¬
face the Eighth, VI. 92.
(Saint), IV. 769,
Bonifaci, town in Lombardy, IV. 769.
Bonifacio, Corsican town, IV. 769.
Bonifacius, Roman general, XIX. 422.
INDEX,
25
BON—BOR
Bonito, fish, XII. 198.
Bonjol (M.), on the electricity of the
air, VIII. 624—on electro-chemical
decomposition, 632.
Bonjour (M.), his bleaching-establisli-
ment, IV. 680.
■ , linguist, on Coptic, XI. 313.
Bonn, in Germany, IV. 769—university
of, XVIII. 700.
 (Andrew), his dissertation on the
membranes, II. 702.
Bonnee, river, IV. 7 69.
Bonnefons (John), IV. 769.
Bonner (Edmund), bishop of London,
IV. 769 ; VIII. 755, 756.
Bonnet, IV. 772.
  (Charles), IV. 770—his com¬
mentary upon Leibnitz’s theory of a
Sufficient Reason, I. 131—was the
first to assert that there is a scale of
beings from the Deity downwards,
134, 149—his scheme of necessity, 149
—his speculations on human nature,
170—on the union between soul and
body, 171—on the functions of leaves,
III. 55—on ants, 239, 240, 242—on
generation, XVII. 691.
 (Theophilus), IV. 768.
Bonne'val (C. A., count de), IV. 772.
Bonny, river, XVI. 223.
Bonnycastle (Charles), on magnetism,
XIII. 693, 722.
Bononcini (Giovanni Maria), IV. 772.
Bononia, IV. 772-3.
Bonpland on the gymnotus electricus,
VIII. 613.
Bontius on birds, XVI. 546.
Bonvincino (Alessandrio), IV. 773.
Bont, IV. 773; VI. 270.
Bonzes, IV. 773.
Booby, bird, XVI. 634.
Boodh. See Buddha.
Boodroom, in Caramania, IV. 773.
Boogebooge, in Hindostan, IV. 773.
Book, IV. 773—of Discipline, XIX. 735.
Books, constituent parts of, IV. 621—
manuscript, before the invention of
printing, 622—ancient, 623—different
forms of modern, ib.—differences be¬
tween editions of, ib. 621—early
printed, 624—rare, 625—the classics,
ib.—anonymous and pseudonymous,
627—condemned and prohibited, 628
—dictionaries and catalogues of, 629
—classification of, 631—mode of whit¬
ening and cleaning, 692—only one in
eight reaches a second edition, VII.
315—Philadelphia and Boston book-
trade, XVII. 223—Mexican, II. 623—
Chinese, XVII. 391. See Bibliogra¬
phy, Copyright, Libraries, Printing.
Book-binding, IV. 775.
Book-keeping, IV. 775.
Booksellers, IV. 791—prevalent er¬
roneous notion about their supposed
high profits, VII. 315—subdivisions
of their trade, 319.
Bool, or Bohol, island, IV. 737.*
Boolam, XX. 94.
Boom, IV. 792.
Booming, IV. 792.
Boondee, in Hindostan, IV. 792.
Boops, fish, XII. 178.
Boorhanpoor, in Hindostan, VI. 792.
Booro, island, IV. 792.
Booroojird, Persian city, IV. 792.
Boorsali, XX. 93.
Booshatter, IV. 792.
Boot, IV. 792.
Bootan, IV. 792.
Bootes, constellation, IV. 795.
Booth (Barton), actor, IV. 795.
(Benj.),onbook-keeping, IV. 776.
Booton, island, IV. 796.
Booty, IV. 796.
Bopal, in Hindostan, IV. 796.
Boqeinians, heretics, IV. 796.
Borabora, IV. 739.
Boracic acid, IV. 796 ; VI. 373 ; XV.
137. ’
Boracite, IV. 797 ; XV. 158—pyro¬
electricity of, VIII. 597—specific gra¬
vity of, XII. 27,
BOR—BOS
Borack, IV. 797.
Borage, XI. 675.
Boragese, in botany, V. 122.
Boraginese, in botany, V. 122.
Boras, XI. 32.
Borax, IV. 797 ; VI. 373 ; XV. 139—
its use iu the blowpipe, IV. 713—
specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Borborites, heretics, IV. 797.
Borborus, insect, IX. 292.
Borda (John Charles), IV. 797—on
overshot wheels, XII. 84—his method
of measuring the intensity of gravity
by the pendulum, XVII. 189—his
pneumatic experiments, XVIII. 115
—on projectiles, 646, 654—his mea¬
suring rules, 749.
Borde (Andrew), IV. 799.
Bordeaux. See Bourdeaux.
Bordeu on the membranes, II. 702—on
cellular tissue, 713.
Bordures, in heraldry, XI. 246.
Bore, or tide-wave, XXI. 282.
Boreas, IV. 799.
Borel (Peter), IV. 799.
Borelli (John Alphonso), IV. 799—the
first who demonstrated the impossi¬
bility of flying, II. 178—Apollonius’s
Conics translated by, III. 288—his
diving-bladder, VIII. 62—on the div¬
ing-bell, 64 — on mechanics, XIV.
352—on the structure and power of
the muscles, XVII. 609, 611.
Boreus, insect, IX. 212.
Borga, in Finland, IV. 800.
Borgen, town in Norway, IV. 800.
Borghoo, kingdom in Africa, II. 238.
Borgia (Caesar), IV. 800—his meetings
with Machiavelli, XIII. 644.
Borgites, VIII. 484.
Borgo (Pietrodel) his work on perspec¬
tive, XVII. 273.
Borgoo, African kingdom, IV. 800.
Boring, V. 1—for coal, VII. 75. See
Blasting.
Boris, XIX. 537.
Borissoglebsk, in Russia, V. 6.
Boristhenes, river, V. 6.
Borken, in Munster, V. 6.
Borkum, island, V. 6.
Borlase (Edmund and William), V. 7.
Bormio, in Lombardy, V. 7.
Born (Ignatius Baron Von), V. 7.
Borneo, diamonds of, VIII. 4—trade
with Singapore, XX. 367—map of,
Vol. XII. PI. CCCVII 2.
Bornholm, island, IV. 328.
Bornou, an African kingdom, V. 11;
II. 237. See Niger, XVI. 218.
Borochloric acid, VI. 373.
Borodino, V. 15—battle of, X. 156.
Borom^eus (Cardinal), V. 16.
Boron, VI. 373 ; VII. 640—sulphuret
of, VI. 377.
Borough, V. 15.
Boroughbridge, a town in Yorkshire,
V. 15—battle of, VIII. 726.
Borowitschi, in Russia, V. la.
Borowsk, in Russia, V. 15.
Borrelists, sect, V. 15.
Borrichius (Olaus), V. 15.
Borromean Islands, V. 16.
Borromeus (Cardinal), V. 16.
Borromini, character of his style of ar¬
chitecture, III. 427.
Borrowdale, black-lead mines in, VII.
537.
Borrowstocnness, in Linlithgowshire,
V. 18—singular colliery at, VII. 71.
Borseholder, V. 18.
Borset, or Borsette, V. 18.
Borsod, in Hungary, V. 18,
Borulawski, a Polish dwarf, VIII. 294.
Boruret of iron, VI. 405.
Bory de St Vincent on animalcules, III.
180, et seq.—his table of classification
of them, 183—his account of Bourbon,
V. 149 ; and the Canaries, VI. 73.
Borysthenes, river, V. 6.
Bos, coin, V. 19—in zoology, XIV. 165
-—grunniens, XXI. 255.
 (John Baptist du), V. 18.
Bosa, Sardinian city, V, 19,
BOS—BOT
Bose, his bee-hive. III. 283—his work on
conchology, XV. 330.
Boscage, V. 19.
Boscan (Don Juan), V. 19; X. 316-
poetry of, XVIII. 162.
Boscawen (Edward), admiral, V. 19,
Boscoi, or Bosci, V. 19.
Boscovich (Roger Joseph), V. 19—ex¬
traordinary talents of, I. 202—his
theory of the constitution of the uni¬
verse, 605—reasoning on which he
supported it, ib.—account of his life
and writings, ib.—obscured his theory
by an infusion of scholastic metaphy¬
sics, 606—it may be regarded as a
happy extension of the law of attrac¬
tion, ib.—on the degree, IX. 549—on
the spectrum, XVI. 411—manner in
which he has represented the action
of corpuscular forces, XX. 751—his
treatise on that subject, 755.
Boshuanas, African race, V. 21.
Bosjesmans, or Bushmen, V. 23.
Bosnia, in Turkey, V. 23.
Bosphorus, V. 23—supposed bursting
of the Thracian, IV. 659.
Bosquets, in gardening, V. 23.
Boss, in architecture, III. 465.
Bossiney, Cornish town, V. 23.
Bosso, or Bossus (Matthew), V. 23.
Bossu (Rene le), V. 23.
Bossuet (J. B.), V. 24—contrast be¬
tween him and Fenelon, I. 335—his
reply to Fenelon concerning man be¬
ing influenced by a disinterested love
of God, 336—in this controversy, re¬
lied mainly on the principle, that, as
man must desire his own happiness,
he desires every thing as a means to¬
wards it, ib.
Bossupt, V. 26.
Bossut (Abbe), his experiments on the
resistance of water, I. 609—on hy¬
drodynamics, XII. 4, 61, 66, 68, 71,
85, 89 ; XVIII. 112 ; XIX. 258 ;
XXL 785, 798, 807.
Bost, Persian town, V. 26.
Bostangis, V. 26.
Bostock (Dr), his classification of ani¬
mal functions, XVII. 591—on gela¬
tin, &c., 620, et seq.—on the blood,
658.
Boston, in Lincolnshire, V. 26.
 , in Massachusetts, V. 26—de¬
struction of tea at, 398—book-trade
of, XVII. 223.
 (Elizabeth), VIII. 745.
Bostrichus, insect, IX. 176.
Boswell (James), V. 26.
Bosworth, V. 29—battle of, VIII. 739.
Bot, IX. 281; XXL 627.
Botal (Leonard), V. 29.
Botanomancy, V. 141.
Botany, V. 30—classification of plants,
II. 142; by Csesalpinus, V. 774—dis¬
tinction between plants and animals,
II. 685 ; III. 155-8—Cavanilles on,
VI. 257 — Druidical knowledge of,
VIII. 208—preservation of flowers,
XIX. 629—botanical structures, XI.
686—useful to physicians, XIV. 526
—geographical distribution of plants,
XVII. 545—effect of latitude and ele¬
vation on plants, ib. 546. See Ana¬
tomy (Vegetable), and Vegetable Phy¬
siology.
Botany Bay, V. 141; XXL 712.
Botaurus, bird, XVI. 619.
Both (John and Andrew), V. 141.
Bothin, district of, XVI. 745.
Bothnia (Gulf of), IV. 330.
Bothriocephalus, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Bothwell (earl of), XIX. 739.
 Bridge, battle of, V. 351.
Botryllus, molluscum, XV. 371,
Botryolite, in mineralogy, XV. 150.
Bots, IX. 281—in cattle, XXI. 627.
Botticelli (Alesandro), V. 141.
Bottle, V. 142—bottle-glass, X. 579.
Bottling of wines, XXL 901.
Botto (Professor), on thermo-electricity,
XXL 698.
Bottom, V. 142.
BOT—BOU
Bottomry, V. 142.
Bottony, in heraldry, V. 142.
Bottoschany, Turkish city, V. 142
Bottrigari (Hercole), V. 142.
Botys, insect, IX. 252.
Botzen, in the Tyrol, V. 142.
Bouche of Court, V. 142.
Boucher de la Richarderie, his catalogue
of Voyages and Travels, IV. 630.
Bouflers (Louis Francis, Duke of), V.
142, 368, 369 ; IX. 395.
Bougainville (Louis Antoine de), V.
143—on the Periplus of Hanno, II.
219—his discoveries in Australasia,
IV. 211, 212,213,214—his settlement
of the Falkland Islands, V. 391—his
visit to Otaheite, XVIII. 325.
Bougainville’s Island, V. 144.
Bougeant (William Hyacinth), V. 144
•—his notion that brutes are animated
by devils, 613, 614.
Bough, V. 144.
Bouguer (Peter), V. 144—reduced the
theory of hydrostatics, as applied to
naval architecture, into a simple aud
elegant form, I. 608—sketch*of his
life and character, ib.—his rule rela¬
tive to the barometrical measurement
of mountains, 614—measurement of a
degree by, in South America, 657 ;
IX. 548—on the figure of the earth,
III. 746—on the moon’s light, IV. 3
—on the gradation of atmospheric
density, 398-—his quarrel with Con-
damine, VII. 198—his heliometer, XI.
213 — his lucimeter, XIII. 589—on
optics, XVI. 362—his observations on
the pendulum, XVII. 201—on seaman¬
ship, XX. 33—on ship-building, 240,
et seq.
Bouhours (Dominic), V. 146 — his
French New Testament, IV. 616.
Bouillaud (Mons.), on disease of the kid¬
neys and brain, XVII. 479, 488
Bouka, island, V. 146.
Boulac, VIII. 519.
Boulainvilliers (Henry de), V. 146.
Boulanger (Nicholas Anthony), V. 14 6.
 (John), V. 147.
Boulay (Csesar Egasse du), V. 147.
Boulaye (Marquis de la), VII. 202.
Boulders, or Bowlders, V. 156; VII.
703 ; XV. 220.
Boulder-wall, V. 147.
Boulette, V. 147.
Boulogne, V. 147 — Bonaparte’s en¬
campment at, 518.
Boulter, IV. 762.
 (Dr Hugh), V. 147.
Boultine, V. 148.
Boulton (Edward), IV. 762,
 (Matthew), V. 148—his coin¬
ing-machine, VII. 50.
Bounties, V. 148 ; VII. 160—on ex¬
portation of corn, 336—effects of, on
the exportation of raw produce, 346
—advantages to landlords, 347—tend
to force capital abroad, ib.—have no
tendency to reduce the real price of
corn by causing a glut of the market,
348—tend to increase fluctuations in
the price of raw produce, 348—on
fisheries, IX. 593.
Bouquetin, in zoology, XIV. 164,
Bourbon, island, V. 149.
 (Nicholas), sen. and jun., V. 151.
Bourbon-Vendee, in France, V. 151.
Bourchenu de Valbonais, IV. 700.
Bourchier (J.), Lord Bernars, V. 151.
Bourdaloue (Louis), V. 151.
Bourdeaux, V. 152—Roman edifices
formerly at, III. 418, n.—wines of,
XXL 899, 902.
Bourdelot (John), V. 153.
Bourdon (Sebastian), V. 153—his pic¬
tures, XVI. 723.
Bourdon’s classification of the animal
functions, XVII. 590.
Bourdonnais (M. de. la), his improve¬
ment of naval signals, XX. 333, 337.
Bourg, V. 153.
Bourganeuf, in France, V. 153.
Bourgeois type, XXI. 436.
26
INDEX
BOU—BOZ
Bopbges, in France, V. 153.
Boukget (Dom John), V. 153.
Bourgoing, (John Francis de), V. 153.
Bourguignons, Y. 154.
Bodrignon (Antoinette), V. 154.
Bourke (General), XXI. 713.
Bourn Eau river, its navigation, XYI. 8.
Bourne, in Lincolnshire, Y. 154.
 (Wm.), on gunnery, XI. 42—on
navigation, XV. 747.
Bournonite, VI. 459; XV. 1G8—specific
gravity of, XII. 27.
Bouro, island, V. 154.
Bourrit (Monsieur), his attempts to as¬
cend Mont Blanc, II. 562.
Bousmard (Mons. de), on fortification,
IX. 771.
Boussac, in France, V. 154.
Boustrophedon, IV. 774.
Bouton, island, IV. 796.
Bouts-rimes, V. 154.
Bouziers, in France, V. 155.
Boves, VII. 98.
Bovey-Tracy, in Devonshire, V. 155.
Bow, V. 155. See Archery.
 Island, V. 155.
Bow-net—Bow-line—Bow-pieces—Bow-
bearer, V. 155.
Bowden (A.), on dry-rot, VIII. 227-8.
Bowdich’s mission to Ashantee, III. 666.
Bowdoin College, XIV. 43.
Bowels. See Intestines.
Bower, in gardening, V. 156.
 (Walter), IX. 741.
Bowerbank (Mr), on the circulation of
blood in insects, IX. 83.
Bowl, V. 156.
Bowlders. See Boulders.
Bowles (Rev. W. L.), on church spires,
III. 423—his controversy with Mr
Roscoe, XIX. 477.
Bowling, V. 156.
Bowling-green, V. 156.
Bowring (Mr), on French commerce, X.
185, 186.
Bows of ships, XX. 294.
Bowsprit, V. 156.
Bowyer (William), printer, V. 156.
Bowyers, V. 158.
Box, V. 158—dice-box, ib.
Box-elder tree, XVII. 787.
Boxers, V. 158.
Boxhornius (Marc Zuerius), V. 158.
Boxing, V. 158 ; XI. 96.
Boxwood, sp. gr. of, XII. 27—used in
wood-engraving, XXI, 918.
Boyar, V. 158.
Boyau, in fortification, V. 158.
Boyce (Hector), IV. 158—Bellenden’s
translation of his History of Scotland,
IV. 549.
Boyce’s reaping-machine, II. 269.
Boyd (Mark Alexander), V. 161,
 (ship), massacre of its crew by
the New Zealanders, IV. 216.
Boyer (Abel), V. 161.
 (Jean Pierre), VIII. 106.
 (General), his services to Me-
hemmed Ali, VIII. 502.
  , in navigation, V. 162.
Boyle, a town in Roscommon, XIX. 480.
Boyle (Charles), V. 167—his contro¬
versy with Bentley, IV. 575.
 (John), earl of Cork and Orrery,
V. 168.
 (Richard), earl of Cork, V. 162.
  (Richard), earl of Burlington
and Cork, V. 162.
 (the Hon. Robert), V. 163—his
contributions to metaphysical science,
I. 139—his air-pump, 481 ; XVIII.
72, 80—on pneumatics, 100; IV. 388
—on electricity, VIII. 565—on the
constancy of nature, XVII. 574—Boy-
lean law in pneumatics, XVIII. 100
—Boyle’s Lectures, V. 168.
 (Roger), earl of Orrery, V. 162.
Boyne, river, V. 168 ; XIV. 345—its
navigation, XVI. 22—battle of the, V.
363; VIII. 200; XII. 377.
Boyse (John and Samuel), V. 168.
Boze (Prof.), his electrical discoveries
and improvements, VIII. 568, 569.
BQU—BRA
B Quadro, in music, V. 170.
Bra, Sardinian city, V. 170.
Brabanciones, V. 170.
Brabant, XVI. 141.
Brabeutes, V. 170.
Bracciolini (Francis), poet, V. 170.
Brace and Braces, V. 170.
Bracelet, V. 170.
Brachelytra, insects, IX. 136.
Brachinus, insect, IX. 113.
Brachiopoda, mollusca, XV. 365.
Brachmins. See Bramins.
Brachon, insect, IX. 222.
Brachycerus, insect, IX. 172.
Brachygraphy, V. 170; XX. 716.
Brachylogy, V. 170.
Brachyopa, insects, IX. 274.
Brachypterse, birds, XVI. 629.
Brachypus, insect, IX. 174.
Brachystoma, insects, IX. 269.
Brachyura, tribe of Crustacea, VII. 500.
Bracke, or Brache, V. 170.
Brackenheim, V. 170.
Bracket and Brackets, V. 171.
Brackley, V. 171.
Braconnot (Monsieur), on the food of
plants, XXI. 571.
Bracteso, III. 95, 96 ; V. 39, 40.
Bracteoke, in botany, V. 40.
Bracton (Henry), V. 171.
Bradbury Rings, VIII. 120.
Bradford, V. 171—canal, XVI. 8.
 (John), V. 171.
Brading, in Hampshire, V. 171.
Bradley (Dr James), V. 171—discovery
of the abberration of light by, I. 569 ;
II. 33; III. 744—his other astrono¬
mical discoveries, 744—his microme¬
ter, XV. 23.,
Bradninch, in Devonshire, V. 173.
Brads, nails, V. 173.
Bradshaw (Henry and John), V. 173.
Bradwardine (Xhos.), archbishop of
Canterbury, V. 173—ethical doctrines
of, I. 309.
Brady (Robert), V. 173.
 (Nicholas), V. 174.
Brady’s domestic balance, XXI. 837.
Bradypus, in zoology, XIV. 141.
Braemar, V. 174.
Brag, game at cards, V. 174.
Braga, in Portugal, V. 174.
Braganza, in Portugal, V. 174—in Pa¬
ra, XVII. 53.
Brahe (Tycho), V. 174—his merits and
discoveries as an astronomer, I. 485
et seq.—believed in astrology, 488.
Brahem, II. 534.
Brahested, IV. 330.
Brahilow, in Wallachia, V. 175.
Brahm, XI. 398.
Brahma, XI. 399 ; XV. 677.
Brahmaputra, river in India, V. 175 ;
IV. 564—its source, III. 705.
Brahmegupta, algebraist, II. 425.
Brahmins, V. 175; VI. 223; XI. 399,
et seq.; XIX. 629-their creed, XVII.
427 ; XVIII. 341—their doctrine of
the soul, XIV. 687—suicide favoured
by the, XX. 797.
Brahooes, IV. 558.
Brahooick Mountains, V. 181; IV. 556.
Brain (human), description of, by Ga¬
len, II. 690, and Varolius, 697—Willis
on anatomy of, 699—anatomical re¬
searches on, 704—structure of, 736 ;
XVII. 681—its anatomy, II. 806-
weight, ib.—convolutions, 807—ven¬
tricles, 808—blood vessels, 811—mem¬
branes, ib.—connection with the nu¬
tritive organs, 813—its functions, III.
159 ; XIV. 579, 582; XVII. 454—its
chemical properties and composition,
VI. 504; XVII. 650—effect of unoxyge¬
nated blood on, VIII. 201—connection
ofthemindwith, VIII. 441 ;XIV. 671;
XVII. 454, 659, 674, 681—Gall’s opi¬
nions concerning, X. 297 ; XVII. 454
—proportionably large in infants, XII.
271—Leuwenhoeck’s observations on,
XIII. 256 — is necessary to sensa¬
tion, XIV. 603—dependence of memory
on its state, 617—human compared
BRA
with those of brutes, 195 ; XVII.
699, 700, 702—theory of its galvanic
functions, 131—effects of injuries and
diseases of the, 457, 459, 465—theory
of plurality of organs in, 458, 466,
469, 681—how far correspondent in
shape with the skull, 460, 466—is the
seat of insanity, XIV. 584—its ap¬
pearance in cases of insanity, XVII.
124—often diseased, without symp¬
toms of functional derangement, 478,
480—When one hemisphere is diseased
may the other perform its functions ?
479—organic and dynamical disease
of, 481—sympathetic diseases of, 484
softening of, 489—complication of dis¬
eases of, 492—What part of it is the
sensorium? 673—What part connected
with voluntary motion ? 675-6. See
Phrenology.
Brain of the lower animals, ana¬
tomy of the. III. 30—its size and
proportion to the body in different
animals, 31,163—supposed relation of
intellectuality to the extent of its
surface, ib.—is dispersed over the
body in the lower tribes, ib.—the
greater its relative size, the greater,
in general, the degree of sensibility,
165—of the horse, small, 165—com¬
pared with human, XIV. 195 ; XVII.
699, 700, 702—of birds, 711—of qua¬
drupeds, II. 707—of the Crustacea,
VII. 498—of insects, IX. 77, 89—of
fishes, XII. 157; XVII. 711—of the
dolphin, XIV. 175—of the whale,
191—of the mollusca, XV. 326, 350,
et $eq.—ot reptiles, XIX. 125—of ser¬
pents, XX. 131—its diseases in the
domestic animals, XXI. 632.
Braintree, town in Essex, V. 181.
Braize, fish, XII. 177.
Brake-harrow, II. 267.
Brakel, in Westphalia, V. 181.
Brama, XII. 180—angling for, III. 146.
Bramah (Joseph), V. 181—his filter,
IX. 581—his patent lock, XIII. 406.
Bramah’s hydrostatic press, XII. 107 ;
II. 114—used in calendering, VI. 19.
Bramante, his architectural designs, III.
426.
Brambanan, in Java, V. 183.
Bramber, in Sussex, V. 183.
Brambling, bird, XVI. 581.
Bramhall (Dr John), V. 184.
Bramins. See Brahmins.
Brampton, V. 184.
Bran, river, falls of, VIII. 282.
Branas, VII. 286.
Branau, in Austria, V. 184.
Branca’s steam-mill, XX. 615.
Brancepeth Castle, VIII. 291.
Branchellion, worm, XI. 226.
Branches of trees, structure of, III. 85
—elongation of, 92—functions of, XXI.
580.
Branchiae of mollusca, XV. 359.
BRANCHiDiE, priests, V. 184.
Branchifera, mollusca, XV. 359.
Branchiobdella, worm, XI. 226.
Branchiopoda, Crustacea, VII. 503.
Branchipus stagnalis, VII. 503.
Brand Sunday, V. 184.
Brande (Mr), on the electricity developed
in flame, VIII. 605.
Brandenburg, in Prussia, V. 184—his¬
tory of, XVIII. 670—war with Sweden,
XXL 20, 21.
Brandes (Monsieur), his galvanic expe¬
riments, XXI. 677.
Brandeum, V. 184.
Branding,V. 184; XVIII.252; XX.725.
Brandon, town in Suffolk, V. 184.
Brandrith, V. 184.
Brandt (Gerard), V. 184.
 (Sebastian), IV. 373, n. 1.
 (Count), VII. 723.
Brandy, V. 185—manufacture of, in
Chili, VI. 532—French, X. 183-Rus-
sian, XIX. 575—mixture of with wines,
XXI. 900.
Brandywine mills, VII. 682.
Brank, V 185.
BRA—BRE
Brantome on chivalry, VI. 011—on duels,
616.
Brasida, V. 185.
Brasidas, V. 185—IV. 157.
Brass, V. 185 ; VI. 416 ; XVI. 534—.
annealing of, III. 197—loss of tenacity
of brass-wire by exposure to acid
fumes or damp air, 197—Corinthian,
V. 186—soldering with, 211—guns of,
VI. 87 ; XI. 67—specific gravity of,
XII. 27—magnetism of, XIII. 708-
coins of, XIV. 473—silvering of, XX.
354.
Brass-colour, V. 187.
Brass-leaf, V. 187.
Brass Town, XVI. 223.
Brassicavit, V. 187.
Brassolis, insect, IX. 242
Braula, insect, IX. 293.
Brauls, or turbans, V. 187.
Braunfels, German town, V. 187.
Braunite, in mineralogy, XV. 163.
Braunsberg, in Prussia, V. 187.
Brauronia, ancient festival, V. 187.
Brawn, V. 187—making of, II. 340.
Braxy, XXI. 624.
Bray (Sir Reginald), V. 187.
 (Dr Thomas), V. 187.
 , Irish town, V. 188.
Brazen Sea, V.188.
Brazier, V. 188.
Brazil, V. 188 ; II. 640—history of, V
188—physical geography, 197—statis¬
tics, 201—mountains, II. 609—cli¬
mate, 612—aboriginal population, 630
—revolution, 639—botany, V. 82—
tradition of the Deluge, VII. 699—
diamonds, VIII. 3, 4, 5—trade with
France, X. 190—serpents, XX. 137-
weights and measures, XXI. 852—
map of, Vol. V. PI. CXXVII-2.
Brazil-wood, a dye-stuff, VIII. 311—
colouring matter of, VI. 484—specifl
gravity of, XII. 27.
Brazing, V. 211.
Brazlaw, Russian town, V. 211.
Breach, V. 211.
Bread, V. 211—sacramental, 214—as¬
size of, IV. 188, 300—baking of, 294
—different kinds of, 295—leavened
and unleavened, 297—nutritive quali¬
ties of, 299—potato-bread, ib.—rye-
bread, 300—rice-bread, ib.—ginger¬
bread, ib.—London bread, 296, 298,
300—mixture of potatoes with flour
in, 302—adulteration of, XIV. 508.
Bread-fruit, V. 211, 69.
Bread-nut, V. 69—tree, XII. 499.
Breadalbane, V. 214.
Break, V. 214.
Breakers, V. 214.
Breaking-down of horses, XXL 618.
Breakwater, V. 214—of Plymouth,
219 ; XVIII. 64.
Bream, a fish, XII. 177, 198—angling
for, III. 146.
Breast, V. 223.
Breast-bone, human, II. 764—in the
mammalia, III. 3—in birds, 12.
Breast-hooks, in ship-building, V. 223.
Breastplate, V. 224.
Breath, its supposed identity with soul,
XVII. 559.
Breathing. See Respiration.
Brebers. See Berbers.
Brechin, Scottish town, V. 224.
Brecon, or Brecknock, Welsh town, V.
225—canal to Abergavenny, XVI. 9.
Breconshire, or Brecknockshire, in
Wales, V. 225.
Breda, V. 226—treaty of, XI. 525.
  (John Van), V. 226.
Bredstedt, a Danish town, V. 226.
Breeches, V. 226.
Breeding of live stock, II. 316, et teq.—
breeding in-and-in, 331.
Breenherg (Bartholomew), V. 226.
Breeze, V. 226.
Breeze-fly, IX. 279.
Bregentz, in the Tyrol, V. 226.
Brehar, a Scilly Island, V. 226.
Brehons, Irish judges, V. 226.
Brehon-laws, V. 226.
INDEX
27
BRE—BRI
Breisach, in Baden, V. 226.
Bremen, V. 226—coins of, XV. 409 
weights and measures of, XXI. 852.
Bbennage, V. 227.
Bbennds, V. 227.
Brentford, in Middlesex, V. 227.
Brentides, insects, IX. 172.
Brentus, insect, IX. 172.
Brerewood (Edward), V. 227.
Brescia, in Lombardy, V. 227.
Breseao, V. 227—swarm of ants at,
III. 243—battle of, XVIII. 674—uni¬
versity of, 700.
Bressuire, in France, V. 227.
Brest, V. 227—naval storehouses at,
VIII. 80—seasoning of timber at, 231.
Bret, V. 228.
Brethren and Sisters of the Free Spi¬
rit, V. 228—and Clerks of the Com¬
mon Life, ib.—White, ib.
Breton (Cape), V. 228 ; XVI. 287.
Breughel (John), V. 229.
Breunnerite, in mineralogy, XV. 142.
Brevedent (Father de), his travels in
Abyssinia, II. 54.
Breven (Mount), electrical phenomena
. on, VIII. 620.
Brevet, V. 229.
Breviary, V. 229.
Breviator, V. 230.
Breviceps, reptile, XIX. 158.
Brevier type, XXI. 436.
Brevipennes, birds, XVI. 615—structure
of, XVII. 712.
Brewer (Anthony), poet, V. 230.
(Mr), on nankeen yellow dyeing:,
VIII. 325.
Brewing, V. 230—in England, VIII.
778—Irish breweries, XII. 406—Lon¬
don porter-breweries, XIII. 509.
Brewster (Sir David), on apparitions,
III. 303—his burning-sphere, V. 739
—on the spectrum, VI. 633—on pyro¬
electricity, VIII. 572, 596—on elec¬
trical light, 584—on the flash from
Rupert’s drops, 601—aurora-borealis
described by, 623—his staktometer,
XII. 25—on capillary attraction, 41—
on the form of drops, 50—his kaleido¬
scope, 662 — on the polarisation of
light, XIII, 333—on two poles of maxi
mum cold, 695—on analogy between
magnets and unannealed glass, 706
—on electro-magnetism, 752—on hu¬
man strength, XIV. 427—his micro¬
meter, XV. 12, 17, 20, 25—on lenses,
31, 32—his periscopic sphere, 34 
his microscopes, 40,4 3, 4 5—on illumi¬
nation of microscopic objects, 48—on
test-objects, 55—-his optical discover¬
ies, X\ I. 367,413,440, 452, et passim
ad 504; XVIII. 242,243—on the spec¬
trum, XVI. 412, 420, 423—on colours
of thin plates, 428; and of double
plates, 447—on the temperature at the
North Pole, XVIII. 223-on the cha-
racter of Professor Robison, XIX. 306.
Brewsterite, in mineralogy, XV. *152—
specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Brexiacese, in botany, V. 104.
Breynius on the mollusca, XV. 329.
Briancjon, in France, V. 258.
Briansk, in Russia, V. 258.
Briare, canal of, X. 172 ; XVI. 6.
Briareus, giant, V. 258.
Bribe, V. 258.
Bribery, V. 258—of public officers in
Russia, XIX. 573.
Briciani, V. 258.
BRtttK’o V' 258—its perishable nature,
ill. 260—ancient Rome built of, 418
—specific gravity of, XII. 27—Babylo¬
nian bricks, XVIII. 537-brickmak¬
ing, V. 258.
Brick-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 338.
•bricklayer, V. 262.
Bricklaying, V. 262, 664
Bride, V. 262.
Bridegroom, V. 262
v- 2M-|“ "’b
Bridge, V, 263 — natural bridges in
America, III. 118-Sunderland iron
BRI
bridge, 392 ; V. 279 ; XX. 810-wood-
en bridges, VI. 170, 290 —swinging
bridges in Chili, 535—bridges in Eng¬
land, VIII. 764 ; France, X. 173;
Glasgow, X. 544 ; London, XIII. 510
—mode of destroying bridges in war,
IX. 786—bridges in gardening, X.
332—arch of, XIV. 299—skew, ib.;
XX. 375 * canal draw and swing
bridges, XVI. 35—Rennie’s bridges,
NIX. l^l, 122—Ouseburn bridge at
Newcastle, XX. 377—viaduct, XXL
638. See Aqueduct, Arch, Centre.
Bridge (suspension), XXL 7—notices
of those in Peru, II. 625, 627 ; III. 118
—China, II. 627—Bootan, IV. 793-
Chili, VI. 535—Montrose, XV. 439.
 , in gunnery and music, V. 285.
Bridgend, in Glamorganshire, V. 286.
Bridgenorth, in Shropshire, V. 286.'
Bridgetown, in Barbadoes, IV. 359.
Bridgewater, V. 286—iron bridge at,
V. 279—canal to Taunton, XVI. 9.
  (Duke of), his canal, XVI. 9;
V. 288 ; VI. 509 ; XIII. 53.
Bridgman’s improvements in gardening
in England, X. 322.
Bridle, V. 286 ; XI. 620.
Bridlington, in Yorkshire, V. 716.
Bridport, in Dorsetshire, V. 286.
Brief, V. 286—Apostolical, ib.
Brieg, in Silesia, V. 286.
Briel, V. 286.
Brienne, battle of, X. 166.
 , (John de), XVI. 757.
Brientz, lake of, XXL 46.
Briey, in France, V. 286.
Brig, or brigantine, ship, V. 286.
Brigade, V. 286—brigade-major, 287
Brigadier, V. 287.
Brigandine, V. 287.
Brigantes, XXI. 809.
Brigg, or Glandford Brigg, V. 287.
Briggs, (H.), V. 287—on logarithms,
XIII. 418,419,431; XIV. 316 ; XXL
374—his intercourse with Napier of
Merchiston, XV. 692.
(William), V. 287.
BRI—BRO
Brighthelmstone, or Brighton, V. 288.
Brigittins, or Bridgetons, V. 288.
Brignoles, in France, V. 288.
Brill, fish, XII. 220.
Brilliants, V. 288.
Brilon, in Westphalia, V. 288.
Brim, V. 288.
Brindisi, V. 288; XV. 700.
Brindley (James), V. 288—his aque¬
duct at Barton Bridge, III.322—blast¬
ing of tunnels introduced by, IV. 676.
Brine, V. 289—Pans, ib.—Pit, ib 
Springs, ib. See Salt-springs.
Brine-worm, VII. 503.
Bringing-to, in navigation, V. 289.
Brinjarrees, XI. 397.
Brinviliiers, (Marchioness of), her poi¬
sonings, III. 314.
Brioude, in France, V. 290.
Brisson (Mathurin James), V. 290—
on ornithology, XVI. 548—experi¬
ments of him and Cadet with a burn¬
ing-glass, V. 738.
Brissot (John Peter), V. 291.
   (Peter), V. 290.
Brissotines, X. 71.
Bristol, V. 292—iron bridges at, 279—
taken by Prince Rupert, 324—fire at,
in 1777, 425—election of Burke as
member for, 714—port of, VIII. 763
 , in Rhode Island, V. 292.
-, in Pennsylvania, V. 292.
—date of the revolution of 1688, 655
—coal-trade, VII. 7—collieries, 70-
coal, 71—trade with Columbia, 91 —
penal colonies, 116—passion for en¬
larging the navy to excess, 122—co¬
lonies, 124—commerce, 160 — navi¬
gation-laws, 122, 160 — commercial
treaty with France in 1786, 161—ex¬
ports to North America, India, and
the West Indies, ib.—books published
in, 320 — corn-laws and corn-trade,
333 quantity of corn produced and
consumed, 354—American war, 369
— cotton-manufacture, 398, 407
cutlery, 567 — Druids, VIII. 203
expeditions to Egypt in 1798 and
1807, 489, 497—statistics, IX. 412 
fairs, 476—fisheries, 590—Bonaparte’s
plan of invasion of, X. 136—French
trade with, 189, 192—commencement
of war of the French revolution, 773
—Indian possessions, XI. 412,etseg. •
dogs, 697—hunting, 740, 746—coun¬
try gentlemen, 740—variation of the
needle, XIII. 734—cattle, XIV. 166—
stratified rocks, XV. 180—mines, 243
enumerations of population, 523—an¬
cient forests, 572—inland navigation,
XVI. 7—school of painting, 724—
earthquakes, XVII. 512-increase of
population, XVIII. 411—popery, XIX.
316—wars of the Romans in, 402, 403,
405, 410, 414—war with Russia, 559
—wall of Severus, XX. 161—naval
pre-eminence, 208—shooting, 300—pe¬
culiarly the land of sportsmen, 302-^-
timber, 289—trigonometrical survey,
351—weaving, XXI. 8, 23—sheep and
wool, 921 — woollen manufactures,
926. Seethe Chronological Table, VI.
669, etseq.; also England, Scotland.
Britain (New). See New Britain.
Britannicus, V. 585; XIX. 402, 403.
British Museum, XIII. 538—Dr Birch’s
bequests to the, IV. 645—library of
the, XIII. 294.
and Foreign School Society,
XXL 529.
Brittleness, V. 585.
Britton Canal, XVI. 9.
—— (Mr), his proposal to term Go¬
thic architecture “ Christian, ” III.
421—on pointed architecture, 431,
455, 456.
Brive, in France, V. 585.
Brixen, in the Tyrol, V. 585.
Brixham, V. 585; XXL 338.
Broach, V. 585.
Broad, various meanings of the word,
VIII. 12—broad piece, V. 585.
Broadside, V. 585.
Brocade, V. 585.
Brocatel, V. 585.
Broccoli, V. 585—culture of, XL 668.
Brochet, fish, XII. 168.
Brock, V. 585.
(General), VI. 69.
BRO
Bromine, VI. 361—sp. gr. of, XII. 27
—its poisonous quality, XIV. 503.
 — acids, VI. 432.
 acid salts, VI. 455.
Bromley (Mr), his theory of the inven¬
tion of sculpture, XX. 1.
 , towns, V. 587, 588.
Bromohydrargyrates, VI. 455.
Bromsgrove, V. 588.
Bromyard, in Herefordshire, V. 588.
Bronchial tubes, II. 821.
Bronchitis, in the domestic animals,
XXL 630.
Brongniartjon elevated marine deposits,
XV. 218—on enamelling of porcelain,
XVIII. 438.
Bronnizy, in Russia, V. 588.
Bronte, in Sicily, V. 588.
Brontium, V. 588.
Brontology, V. 588.
Bronze, V. 588; VI. 416; VII. 311—
antiques of, III. 259 ; V. 590.
Bronzing, V. 588.
Bronzite, XV. 149—sp. gr. of, XII. 27.
Brooch, V. 585.
Brooke (Sir Arthur de Capel), on Lap-
land, XIII. 105, et seq.
  (Captain), on aurora borealis in
Norway, IV. 201.
 (Mr), on the expanding efiect of
electricity, VIII. 624.
 (Mrs), actress, V. 590.
Brooke’s steelyard - electrometer, de¬
scription of, VIII. 657.
Brookite, in mineralogy, XV. 161.
Brooklyn, XIII. 554.
Brookville, in Indiana, XII. 266.
Broom, V. 590—dyers’, VIII. 321.
(Loch), fishery, XIX. 487.
Bristol Channel, V. 292—canal to
the English Channel, XVI. 13.
Bristow (Captain), his discoveries in
Australasia, IV. 217.
Britain, V. 293—history of, ib.—walls
of Hadrian and Antoninus; see those
heads—observations on the agricul¬
ture of, II. 342—army of. III. 616-
progress of art in, 651—comparative
culture of France, Austria, and, IV.
230—barracks, 405—cultivation of bo¬
tany, V. 82, 91—trade with Buenos
Ayres, 650; and with Chili, VI. 533
Brocklesby (Richard), V. 585.
Bkod, Hungarian town, V. 586.
Brodeau (John), V. 586.
Brodera, Hindoo town, V. 586.
Brodie (Sir Benjamin), on disease of the
nerves, XVII. 484.
 (Geo.), on the Scottish covenant¬
ing clergy, IV. 287, n. 1 ; 288—on
Oliver Cromwell, VII. 478—his expo¬
sure of Hume, XL 498.
Brody, in Galicia, V. 587.
Broekhuizen (John), V. 592.
Broke (Sir Robert), V. 587.
Broken-wind in animals, XXL 629.
Broker, V. 587.
Bromberg, V. 587—canal of, IV. 331
Brome (Alex, and Richard), V. 587.
Bromeliaeese, in botany, V. 134.
Bromic acid, VI. 361.*
Bromides, VI. 455—of iodine, 362—of
azote, 367—of carbon, 370—of sulphur,
376—of selenium, 378—of phospho¬
rus, 381—of arsenic, 383—of anti¬
mony, 385—of potassium, 393—of glu-
cinum, 399—of iron, 4Q4—pf cyano¬
gen, 434.
Broom-flower, order of Knights of the,
V. 590.
Broome (William), English poet, V. 590
his share in Pope’s version of the
Odyssey, XVIII. 400.
Brooming of a ship, V. 591.
Broos, Hungarian town, V. 591.
Broscus, insect, IX. 125.
Broseley, town in Salop, V. 591.
Brosmius, fish, XII. 219.
Brossard (Sebastian de), V. 591.
Brosses (Charles de), V. 591—on Aus¬
tralasia, IV. 203.
Brotero (Dr F. A.), V. 82.
Brothels, in London, XVIII. 251—in
Paris, 256.
Brother, V. 591.
Brotherhood (Holy), XX. 498.
Brotterode, German town, V. 592.
Brotula, fish, XII. 219.
Brough, in Westmoreland, V. 592.
Brougham (Lord), on the balance of
power, IV. 309, n. 310—his education-
bill in 1821, V. 551—his motion for
law-reform, 573 — on the Earl of
Chatham, XVII. 763—on Mr Pitt,
770—on Sheridan’s political life, XX.
203—his act against the slave-trade,
386—his motion for the abolition of
slavery, 388.
Broughton (Thomas), V. 592.
Broukhusius (James), V. 592.
Brouncker (William, Lord), V. 593 ;
XIV. 318—on the quadrature of the
circle, XX. 555.
Broussais (Monsieur), new medical doc¬
trine of, XVII. 485.
Brocssonet (Pierre Marie Auguste),
V. 593—his botanical labburs, 87.
Brown, in crayon painting, VII. 453.
 -, dyeing of, VIII. 331, 343.
 •, varieties of, XV. 127.
 (Chas. B.), his novels, XIX. 346.
  (Isaac Hawkins), an English
poet, V. 596.
 (John), founder of the Bruno-
nian theory of physic, V. 597.
~ (Hr John), a clergyman of the
Church of England, V. 595.
 (Mr), on the plants of New Hol¬
land, IV. 209.
 (Mr), engraver, IX. 53.
  (Robert), a schismatic divine,
V, 593, 604,
28
INDEX
BRO—BRU
Brown (Robert), on active molecules,
III. 192—his botanical labours, Y. 91
—his classification of plants, 94.
 (Dr Robert), on the distribution
of plants, XVII. 545.
- (Robert), founder of the sect of
Independents, XII. 260.
 (Samuel), his atmospherical en¬
gine, XIV. 437.
— (Simon), V. 596.
 (Thomas), V. 595.
 (Dr Thomas), V. 601—his obser¬
vations on Darwin’s Zoonomia, I. 394
—his work on Causation, ib.—early
life and studies of, 395—his character,
ib.—style, 396—poetical talents, 397—
philosophy, ib. et seq—on apparitions,
III. 304—on Adam Smith’s Theory of
Moral Sentiments, XX. 415.
. ■ -— (Ulysses Maximilian), V. 594.
 (William), poet, V. 595.
 (Sir William), V. 597.
 (William Laurence), V. 598.
Brown’s keyless watch, VI. 800.
Browne (Edward), V. 603.
 (Mr), of Dublin, on the Greek
accents, II. 84.
 (Sir Thomas), V. 603—quoted,
XXL 1008, n. 6.
 (William George), V. 603.
Brownie, V. 605.
Brownists, religious sect, V. 604.
Brownrigg (Dr William), V. 605.
Bruccioli (A.), his Italian Bible, IV. 617.
Bruce (Alex.), his attack upon Wodrow,
XXL 911.
 (C. A.), his Report on the Tea-
plantations of Assam, XXI. 130.
——— (Edward), his invasion of Ire¬
land, XII. 356.
 (James), V. 605—his travels in
Abyssinia, II. 54 -7 —published account
of them, XV. 598—on the balsam of
Mecca, IV. 323—on the simoom, VIII.
516 ; XX. 356—on the shepherd-in¬
vaders of Egypt, VIII. 462—on the
formation of the Egyptian Delta, 508
—on the source of the Nile, XVI. 227
—his argument for polygamy, XVIII.
312—on tortoise-shell, XIX. 131—on
lizards, 138—his account of Syene,
XXI. 52; and of the ruins of Thebes,
XXI. 199.
 (Robert), Lord of Annandale,
XIX. 708.
 (King Robert), V. 605 ; XIX.
709 ; VIII. 263, 282—Barbour’s poem
on, IV. 369.
Bruchaelae, insects, IX. 171.
Bruchsal, in Baden, V. 609.
Brucin, VI. 463.
Brucite, in mineralogy. XV. 158.
Brdck, in Austria, V. 609.
Bruckenad, Bavarian city, V. 609.
Brucker (James), V. 609—estimate of
the talents of, I. 283.
Bruckmann on birds, XVI. 548.
Brudzewski, a Polish writer, XVIII. 23.
Brue, river, XX. 475.
Brueys (Admiral), V. 485 ; VIII. 489.
Bruges, V. 611—commerce of, VII. 158.
Bruguifere (Monsieur), his system of ani¬
malcules, III. 186.
Bruin (John del, V. 611.
Bruise, surgical treatment of, XX. 840.
Brumalia, festivals, V. 611.
Brumoy (Peter), V. 611.
Brun (Charles Le), V. 611.
  (Pigault Le), character of his
novels, XIX. 355,
Brunanburgh, battle of, VIII, 703.
Brundusium, V. 288 ; XV. 700.
Brunehaut, X. 4.
Brunei (Mark Isambard), his block-ma¬
chinery, IV. 704—a diving adventure
of, VIII. 60—his mode of cutting ve¬
neers, XIV. 367—his carbonic acid gas
engine, XIV. 437—his moulds for ste¬
reotyping, XVIII. 568—his manner of
constructing brick arches, XX. 376—
his tunnel under the Thames, XXI. 4 07.
  (J. K.), his construction of the
Great Western Railway, XIX. 51.
BRU—BUG
Brunelleschi (Filippo), III. 424—his ar¬
chitectural designs, 426.
Brunet,Bonaparte satirized by, VIII. 166.
 (J. C.), his Bibliographical Ma¬
nual, IV. 630.
Bruniaceae, in botany, V. 114.
Brunn, in Moravia, V. 612.
Brunne (Robert de), XIX. 332.
Brunner (J. C.), his anatomical labours,
II. 700.
Bruno (Jordano), V. 612.
Brunoniace®, in botany, V. 116.
Bruns (Paul James), a decipherer of
palimpsests, XVI. 764.
Brunswick, V. 612; X. 485—coins of,
XV. 407, 409—weights and measures
of, XXL 852.
 , in Maine, V. 612 ; XIV. 44.
Bruntisland. See Burntisland.
Brush, V. 612.
Brussels, V. 612—libraries in, XIII.
314—revolutionary troubles in 1830,
XVI. 135.
Brussels-carpets, VI. 172.
Brussels-sprouts, culture of, XI. 667.
Brutes, V. 613—Buffon on the faculties
of, I. 177—dreams of, VIII. 187—
instincts of, XII. 296—their faculties
compared with those of man, 304 —
study of, useful to physicians, XIV.
525—language of, XIII. 60—memory
of, XIV. 618—worship of, in Egypt,
XV. 681—minds and brains of, XVII.
469—physiology and structure of, 699.
See Anatomy (Comparative), Animals,
Brains of the Lower Animals, Ento¬
mology, Ichthyology, Ornithology,&c.
Becth, V. 617.
Bruton, in Somerset, V. 617.
| Brutus, or Brute, a fabulous king of
Britain, V. 617.
  (Lucius Junius), V. 618; XIX.
367.
 (Marcus), V. 618 ; XIX. 398—
visited by an apparition at Philippi,
III. 296.
Brux, Bohemian city, V. 618.
Bruyere (John de la), V. 618.
Bryant (Sir Francis), V. 618.
 (Rev. H.), on botany, V. 83.
  (Jacob), V. 618—on the Con¬
fusion of Tongues, VII. 213—on the
Deluge, 691—on mythology, ib.—his
theory of the dispersion of mankind,
VIII. 42—on Homer, XI. 542.
Bryaxis, insect, IX. 187.
Brydone’s account of Mount JEtna, II.
200, et seq.
Bryennius (Manuel), V. 619.
Bryson, geometer, X. 423 ; XX. 552.
Brzezani, in Galicia, V. 619.
Bua, island, V. 619.
Buat (Chevalier d'e), on hydrodynamics,
XII. 5, 75; XX.I. 785—on the resist¬
ance of fluids, XIX. 180—on the mo¬
tion of rivers, 258, et seq.
Buat-Nancay (L. G. Count du), V. 619.
Bubalus, African animal, II. 228.
Bubastis, an Egyptian deity, V. 620;
VIII. 554.
Bubo, bird, XVI. 566.
Buc (George), antiquary, V. 620.
Bucalemu, lake, VI. 524.
Bucaneer, V. 620; VIII. 104.
Bucarest, in Wallachia, V. 626.
Buccce loricatse, in ichthyology,XII. 172.
Buccari, in Austria, V. 626.
Buccellarii, V. 626.
Buccellatum, V. 626.
Buccina, musical instrument, V. 626.
Buccinidae, mollusca, XV. 364.
Buccino, Neapolitan city, V. 626.
Buccinum, in conohology, XV. 316.
Buccleugh (Duke of), his lands in Dum¬
friesshire, VIII. 261.
Bucco, bird, XVI. 598.
Bucentaur, V. 626.
Bucephala, V. 626.
Bucer (Martin), V. 626.
Buceros, bird, XVI. 593.
Buchan, district of, V. 627 ; II. 29.
— (Captain D.), his arctic voyage,
XVIII. 220,
BUC—BUF
Buchan’s “ Domestic Medicine,” XX-
401.
Buchanan (Archibald), his cotton ma¬
chines, X. 555, 556, 558.
 (David), on the high price of
gold before the recoinage, VII. 38.
 (Dr F.), on the inhabitants of
Eastern Asia, III. 691—his botanical
labours, V. 78.
 (George), V. 627—character of
his work De Jure Regni aqrad Scotos,
I. 31—Ruddiman’s and Burman’s edi¬
tions of his History of Scotland, V.
718—his Latin version of the Psalms,
XII. 601.
  — (G.), his pump, XII. 99—his
windmill-sails, XIV. 436—his paddle-
wheels, XX. 705.
Bucharest, in Wallachia, V. 626.
Buchen, German city, V. 634.
Buck, in Prussia, V. 634.
Buckden, in Huntingdon, V. 634.
Buckeburg, German city, V. 634.
Buckenham (New), in Norfolk, V. 634.
Buckharia. See Bukharia.
Buckingham, V. 634.
 Palace, London, XIII. 542.
 (Dukes of). See Villiers and
Sheffield.
 (J. S.), his account of the ruins
of Babylon, IV. 269—Jerusalem, XII.
545, 549, 550—Palestine, XVI. 739, et
seq.—Syria, XXI. 59, et seq.
Buckland (Dr), on the Deluge, VII. 702
—on fossil bones, XV. 223—on the du¬
ration of our supply of coal, 224.
Buckle’s (Mr), pneumatic equalizer of j
the force of steam-engines, XX. 653.
Buckler, V. 634.
Buckowine, account of the, IV. 227,
Buckram, V. 634.
Bucks, or Buckinghamshire, V. 634.
Buck-thorn, XVII. 787.
Buck-wheat, culture of, II. 296.
Bucolic, V. 635.
Bucovar, in Hungary, V. 635.
Bud and Budding. See Buds.
Buda, in Hungary, V. 636.
Bun^us (William), V. 636—character
and works of, I. 29.
Buddies (John Francis), V. 636.
Buddha, Hindoo deity, V. 636 ; XV.
678; VII. 695, 697—his worshippers
in Ceylon, VI. 304 ; India, XI. 399 ;
Siam, XX. 323 ; and Tibet, XXI. 257.
Buddie (Mr), his improved method of
working coal, VII. 83.
Bude canal to Launceston, XVI. 9.
Budgell (Eustace), V. 638.
Budnjeans, heretics, V. 638.
Buds, structure of, III. 89—formation
of, 90—functions of, XXI. 580—leaf-
buds, III. 93 ; V. 32—flower-buds, III.
96 ; V. 40—propagation of fruit by
budding, XI. 636.
Budsdos, Japanesg sect, XII. 514.
Buducshan, IV. 277.
Budun, Ceylonese god, V. 638.
Budweis, in Bohemia, V. 638.
Budytes, birds, XVI. 577.
Budziac Tartary, V. 638.
Buenaire, island, V. 638.
Buenaventura, V. 638.
Buenos Ayres, V. 639 ; II. 642—climate
of, 612—taken by the British in 1807,
V. 523—foundation and history of,
XVIII. 1, et seq.—weights and mea¬
sures of, XXI. 852.
Buff colour, dyeing of, VIII. 342.
Buffalmaco, painter, XVI. 709.
Buffalo, XIV. 167—African, II. 228.
Buffalo-fish, XII. 179.
Buffet, V. 661.
Buffier (Claude), V. 661—mistake of,
relative to a theory of Descartes, I.
63—coincidence between his train of
thinking and that of some Scottish
metaphysicians, 215 — his style and
ethical doctrine, 342—his theory of
beauty, IV. 486.
Buffon (G. X. le Clerc, Count de), V.
662—on the faculties of man and
brutes, I. 177-8—his character as a
BUF—BUM
natural historian, II. 142 ; XIV. 79-«
on the soul, III. 159—on original diver¬
sity of species, 161—his definition of
species, ib.—on animalcules, 191—his
theory of the formation of bees’ combs,
IV. 526—his burning mirrors and
lenses, V. 729, 736, 737; XX. 21—his
connection with Daubenton, VII. 633
—on the horse, XI. 566 — his work
on the natural history of animals,
XIV. 79—on the varieties of the hu¬
man species, 199—on birds, XVI. 549,
595, 600, 626—Smellie’s translation of
his Natural History, XX. 402 — his
experiments on the strength of wooden
colums, 773—on the origin of intesti¬
nal worms, XXL 992.
Buffoon, V. 662.
Bufo, reptile, XIX. 156.
Bug, XI. 195—mode of destroying bugs,
XII. 293 ; XXI. 603-harvest-bug,
III. 369.
Buggers, V. 662.
Buggesses, VI. 270.
Bugia, in Africa, V. 662.
Bugie, town in Egypt, V. 662.
Bugis, or Buggis, of Celebes, III. 693 {
IV. 773—their commerce, III. 701.
Buhle (M.), on Kant’s Critique of Pure
Reason, I. 190—on Kant’s argument
for free agency, 197—his History of
Modern Philosophy, 283.
Builder, V. 663.
Building, V. 663 — transmission of
sound by stone, II. 113—deadening of
sounds in rooms, 118—calc-tuff as a
building-stone, V. 787—Purbeck and
Portland stones, VIII. 120—expansion
of stone by heat, XI. 188—strength
of different kinds of wood, XX. 757,
759, 760, et seq. ; and of stone, 759—
building of viaducts, XXI. 639. See
Architecture, Carpentry, Joinery,
Masonry, Brick, Stone, Timber.
Buildwas, iron bridge at, V. 279.
Builth, in Brecon, V. 696.
Bukharia, V. 696 ; XXL 83—commerce
of, III. 699—language of, XIII. 91.
 (little), V. 700.
Bul, Hebrew month, V. 700.
Bulah, Egyptian village, V. 700.
Bulam, or Bulama, IV. 653.
Bularchus, painter, V. 700.
Bulb, V. 700.
Bulboceras, insect, IX. 155.
Bulbus, a kind of bud, III. 90.
Buleutje, V. 700.
Bulfinch, XVI. 581.
Bulfinger on the strength of beams,
XX. 765.
Bulgaria, V. 700—coast and ports of,
IV. 660.
Bulgarians, their wars with the Roman
emperors, VII. 282—in Greece, X. 738.
Bulimus, in conchology, XV. 348
Bulk, or Balk, IV. 318.
 of a ship, V. 701.
Bulk-heads of a ship, V. 701.
Bulkau, in Austria, V. 701.
Bull, XIV. 160; II. 322—management
of bulls, 325—origin of the sign of the
Bull and Mouth, III. 308.
 , (Dr John), V. 701.
 , (George), bishop, V. 702.
 , ecclesiastical letter, V. 702—in
Ccena Domini, ib.—Golden, ib.—Sil¬
ver, ib.—Leaden, ib.—Waxen, ib.
Bull-fighting, V. 702—in Bootan, IV.
794.
Bulla, mollusca, XV. 346, 362.
Bullae, V. 702.
Bullet, XL 42.
Bulleyn, (William), V. 703.
Bull-head, fish, XII. 173.
Bullialdus, (Ismael), V. 703—on astro¬
nomy, I. 495.
Bullinger (Henry), V. 703.
Bullion, V. 703—Ricardo on, XIX. 230.
Bulmer, a printer, XVIII. 555.
Bulwer, (Sir E. L.), his act to amend
the laws relating to dramatic literary
property, XXL 194.
Bomm, a Persian city, V. 703.
INDE X
29
BUN—BUR
Bunce’s pile-engine, XIV. 468.
Bunde, in Prussia, V. 703.
Bundelcund, V. 703.
Bundek, in Persia, V. 706.
Bundoolah, V. 567.
Bunel (Peter), V. 706.
Bungarus, serpent, XX. 147.
Bungay, a town in Suffolk, V. 706.
Bunker’s Hill, battle of, V. 402.
Bunnass, river, V. 706.
Bunt’s tide-gauge, XXI. 286.
Bunting, bird, XVI. 580.
Buntingford, in Hertford, V. 706.
Buntwalea, Hindoo town, V. 706.
Bunwoot, island, V. 707.
Bunyan (John), V. 707.
Bunzlau, V, 706.
Buonaparte. See Bonaparte.
Buoy, V. 707.
Bupalus, Greek sculptor, V. 70 7.
Buphaga, birds, XVII. 582.
Buphonia, Athenian feast, V. 707.
Buprestides, insects, IX. 138.
Buprestis, insect, IX. 139.
Burats of Siberia, XX. 327.
Burchell on the zebra, XIV. 154.
Bukckhabdt (John Ludwig), V. 707 ;
VIII. 529. n. 2—his account of Ara¬
bia, III. 324, et seq.—his discoveries
in Egypt and Nubia, VIII. 558, 559
—his account of Syria, XXL 59, et seq.
Burden, in music, V. 708.
■ of a ship, V. 708.
Burdett, executed at Tyburn, VIII. 737.
  (Sir F.), his committal to the
Tower, V. 529—his bill in 1825 for
the relief of the Catholics, 563—his
motion on that subject in 1828, 573.
Burdon (Rowland), his iron bridge at
Sunderland, III. 392 ; V. 279.
Burdwan, in Hindostan, V. 708.
Bure (He), on bibliography, IV. 629.
 , river in Norfolk, XVI. 246—its
navigation, 9.
Buren, in Westphalia, V. 708.
Burford, in Oxfordshire, V. 708.
Burgage, V. 708—tenure, 709.
Burgau, Bavarian city, V. 709.
Burgebrach, Bavarian town, V. 709-
Burger (G. A.), V. 709 ; XIX. 682.
Burgess, V. 710.
Burggrave, V. 711.
Burgh, or Dun, VIII. 267.
 , in Lincolnshire, V. 711.
—  , in Norfolk, Roman castle at,
XX. 790.
Burghs, Scotch, XIX. 758.
Burghpote, V. 711.
BURGHBRECnE, V. 711.
Burghers, XIX. 764 ; XX. 64.
Burghley (Lord), VI. 268—his deformi¬
ty, VII. 674—his conduct towards
Lord Bacon, XXI. 606.
Burghmote, V. 711.
Burglary, V. 711.
Burolengenfeld, V. 711.
Burgomaster, V. 711.
Burgos, in Spain, V. 711—Wellington’s
attack on, 533.
(Lucas de), on algebra, II. 422.
Burgoyne (General), V. 387, 397, 404 —
favourable result of inquiry into his
conduct in America, 408—his advice
to end the American war, 418.
Burgundians, V. 154.
Burgundiones, V. 711.
Burgundy, V. 711—canal of, XVI. 6—
wines of, XXI. 902.
Burhampoor, V. 711.
Buni (Cassandra), VIII. 609.
Burial, V. 712—proportion of burials
in England to the population, VIII.
800—registration of, XIX. 98—burial-
places, V. 278, 746 ; XIV. 512-bury-
mg alive, V. 746—coffins, VII. 19.
Burias, island, V. 712.
Buriats, Tartars, V. 712.
Buridan (John), V. 712.
Burke (Edmund), V. 712—his patron¬
age of Barry, IV. 411; and of Crabbe,
VII. 439—his theory of beauty, IV.
485 his plan for introducing public
economy, V. 410—speech on the Ame-1
BUR
rican war, 418—attack on Sir Elijah
Impey, 435 ; and Warren Hastings,
440, 444, 450—on the French revolu¬
tion, 456, 458 ; XIII. 655—on the
corporation and test acts, V. 457 on
the Canada bill, 458—his quarrel with
Mr Fox, ib.—Dr Brocklesby’s kind¬
ness to, 586—his corn-act, VII. 339—
on our extended knowledge of human
nature, XIII. 167—on municipal law,
173, 175—eloquence of, XIX. 220.
Burkitt (William), V. 716.
Burleigh (Lord). See Burghley.
 Moor, meridian of, XXI. 359.
Burlesque, V. 716 ; XIX. 239.
Burlington, V. 716.
  (Earl of), his merits as an ar¬
chitect, III. 429.
Burman (Peter), V. 716—his edition of
Buchanan’s works, 633.
Burman Empire, IV. 240—war with the
East India Company in 1824, V. 567;
XL 440—wars with the Peguans,
XVII. 172—weights and measures of,
XXI. 852—map of, Vol. XII. Plate
CCCVII-2.
Burmann’s “ Flora Indica,” V. 78.
Burmanniese, in botany, V. 133.
Burn river navigation, XVI. 15.
Burnes (Dr), his visit to Hydrabad, XX.
363-5.
   (Mr), on the Indus, XII. 270.
I.urnet (Gilbert), bishop of Salisbury,
V. 722—on Buchanan’s History, 633
— on the characters of Lord Stair,
VII. 600 ; William and John Forbes,
IX. 738, 739 ; and Bishop Leighton,
XIII. 212, et seq.
  (James), Lord Monboddo, V. 724
—on the origin of language, II. 539 ;
XIII. 61—Gilbert Stuart’s abuse of,
XX. 781.
(Thomas), V. 721—his theory of
the earth, VII. 455—on the Deluge,
VII. 699.
Burnett (Prof.), on the changes produc¬
ed by growing plants on air, XXL 579.
 (Sir Wm.), his plan for the pre¬
vention of dry-rot, XX. 274.
Burney (Miss), her novels, XIX. 346.
Burnham, in Norfolk, V. 724.
Burning, V. 724—of the dead, ib 
crime of, XII. 257.
Burning-glasses, V. 725 ; XL 195.
Burnisher, V. 740—engravers’, IX. 47.
Burnishing, V. 740.
Burnley, in Lancashire, V. 740.
Burns (Robert), V. 740—Currie’s Life
of, VII. 556—poetry of, XVIII. 173.
 (R.), his bucket-wheel, XXL 801
—his contrivance for fixing the arms
of water-wheels, 809.
Burntisland, V. 744—ferry, IX. 767.
Burramootee, V. 745.
Burrampooter, river, V. 175.
Burren-Sunker, XL 402.
Burrough (Stephen), his voyage of dis¬
covery, XVIII. 216.
Burrow (Sir James), V. 745.
 (R.), on Indian algebra, II, 425.
Burrowing Serpents, XX. 138.
Burrows (Dr), on insanity, XIV. 578.
 (Robert), on the culture of car¬
rots, II. 289.
Bursa, Turkish city, V. 745.
— , in veterinary science, XXL 616
—diseased, ib.
Bursar, V. 745.
Bursaria, V. 745.
 , animalcules, III. 188.
Burse, V. 745.
Burseraceae, in botany, V. 106.
Bursill’s weighing-machine, XXI. 839.
Burslem, town in Staffordshire, V. 745
—potteries at, XVIII. 500.
Bur-stones, rock of the Abbey Craig
near Stirling a substitute for, VI. 721.
Burton (Robert), V. 745.
 (John), V. 746.
Burton-upon-Trent, V. 746.
Bury, V. 746—Manchester, Bolton, and
Bury canal, XVI. 16.
 ( niver, navigation of, XVI. 9.
BUR—BUX
Bury St Edmunds, V. 746.
Burying and Burying-places. See Burla..
Busaco, battle of, V. 529.
Busbec (Auger Gislen, Lord of), V. 746.
Busby (Dr Richard), V. 747.
Buschetto, Greek architect, XVI. 707.
Busching (Anthony Frederick), V.747.
Buscovich, on achromatic glasses, II.
104—on the geometric properties of
bees’ combs, IV. 526—on the orbits
of comets, VII. 138.
Buseo, in Wallachia, V. 748.
Bush (Paul), V. 748.
Busheab, island, V. 748,
Bushel, standard, XXI. 846.
Bushire, V. 748—trade of, XVII. 246.
Bushmen, V. 23.
Bushnell’s machine for blowing up ves¬
sels, VIII. 63.
Busiris, Egyptian city, V. 748.
 . Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Busk, Austrian city, V. 748.
Buskin, V. 748 ; VIII. 145, 147.
Buss, a small ship, V. 748.
Bussolengo, V. 748.
Bussora, V. 748—commerce of, XI. 387.
Bussy (Monsieur), XI. 414.
Bust, or Busto, V. 749.
Bustamente, XIV. 793.
Bustamite, specific gravity of, XII. 27.
Bustar, Hindoo town, V. 749.
Bustard, in ornithology, XVI. 617 
shooting of, XX. 314.
Bustard-Bay, V. 749.
Bustuarii, gladiators, V. 749,
Bustum, V. 749.
Busvagon, island, V. 750.
Butcher, V. 750—mode of killing ani¬
mals, IX. 722.
Butcher-bird, XVI. 568.
Bute (Earl of), his resignation as first
Lord of the Treasury, V. 388.
 ship-canal at Cardiff, XVI. 9.
Buteo, bird, XVI. 564.
Buteshire, V. 750.
Buthus, genus of arachnides, HI. 365.
Butirinus, fish, XII. 216.
Butler, V. 753.
 — family in Ireland, XII. 360.
 (Charles), V. 753.
(Joseph), bishop of Durham, V.
753; XX. 69—on personal identity,
I. 217—notice of his life, 343—his
“Analogy,” ib.; II. 682—his ethical
principles and Discourses, I. 343-7—
his style very defective, 347—on anger,
III. 127 — compared with Jonathan
Edwards, VIII. 455—on personal iden¬
tity, XIV. 680.
  (Samuel), V. 753—poetry of,
XVIII. 171.
 (Mr), on the Pope’s supremacy,
XL 496.
Buto, Egyptian god, VIII. 553 ; XI. 321.
Butomese, in botany, V. 136.
Butt, and Butts, V. 753-4.
Butter, V. 754 ; VI. 498—curing of,
IX. 733—of Cambridgeshire, VI. 34
—specific gravity of, XII. 27—butter-
dairies, VII. 590—whey-butter, 592.
Butterby, near Durham, salt springs at,
VIII. 290.
Butterflies, IX. 240.
Butteris, V. 754.
Butterly iron - works, in Derbyshire,
hot-blast at, XX. 409.
Buttock of a ship, V. 754.
Button, V. 754.
 (Sir Thomas), exploratory voy¬
ages of, XVIII. 218.
Button’s Bay, V. 754.
Buttool, in Hindostan, V. 754.
Buttress, V. 754—in pointed architec¬
ture, III. 463, 465.
Buttstadt, German city, V. 754.
Butyric acid, VI. 430.
Butyrine, VI. 443.
Butzow, German city, V. 754.
Buxar, Hindoo town, V. 754.
Buxtehude, in Hanover, V. 754.
Buxton, V. 755—springs, VII. 736.
  (Jedediah), a celebrated men¬
tal calculator, V. 754.
BUX—CAC
Buxton (Sir Thomas F.), on prison-diet,
VIII. 22—on the slave-trade, XX. 386.
Buxtorf (John), senior, V. 755 his
Hebrew Bible, IV. 614.
  (John), junior, V. 755.
Buying, V. 755.
Buzot, Spanish town, V. 755.
Buzzard, XVI. 564.
Buzzi (Mons.), on albinos, II. 383.
Byblus, mysteries of Osiris at, XV. 664.
Bygonbary, XV. 651.
Bylot (Robert), exploratory voyages of
XVIII. 218.
Byng (George), Lord Viscount Torring-
ton, V. 755—his capture of the Spa¬
nish fleet, V. 376.
 — (the Hon. Geo.), V. 756—his
alleged misconduct at Minorca, and
execution, 384.
BJrge (Juste), on logarithms, XIII. 418.
Byrom (John), V. 756.
Byron (Commodore), V. 391, 405—his
visit to the Ladrone and Georgian
Islands, VIII. 317.
 (Geo. Gordon, Lord), V. 756—
his “ Manfred,” VIII. 178—his aid to
the Greeks, X. 749 — his poetry,
XVIII. 144, 173. *
Byron’s Island, V. 761.
Byrrhii, insects, IX. 149.
Byrrhus, insect, IX. 149.
Byrsa, VI. 183—its submission to the
Romans, VI. 206.
Byssus, V. 761; XV. 366.
• flos aquae, III. 187.
Byttneriaceae, in botany, V. 100.
Byturus, insect, IX. 148.
Byzantium, V. 761—its name altered,
XIX. 416.
Bzovius (Abraham), V. 761.
c
C, letter of the alphabet, V. 762.
Caaba, or Caabah, V. 762.
Caana, a town in Egypt, V. 762.
Cab, Hebrew measure, V. 762.
Cabal (the), V. 762, 346)
Caballaria, V. 762.
Caballeros, V. 762.
Caballine, V. 762.
Cabanis (P. J. G.), V. 762—on physical
influences affecting the mind, VIII.
440, 441, 443.
Cabbage, culture of, II. 290 ; XI. 667.
Cabbala, V. 764.
Cabbalists, V. 765.
Cabeca, or Cabess, V. 765.
Cabello, in Venezuela, V. 765
Cabenda, V. 765; HI. 153.
Cabetes, V. 189.
Cabeza de Buey, V. 765.
Cabezzo. See Angola.
Cabidos, or Cavidos, V. 765,
Cabin, V. 765.
Cabinet, V. 765.
Cabinet-making, XII. 606.
Gabion, V. 68.
Cabiri and Cabiria, V. 765.
Cables, V. 765—chain, XII. 438, 443;
XX. 55.
Cabling, in architecture, III. 465.
Cabot (John), XVI. 162.
  (Sebastian), V. 765; VII. 133;
XVII. 57—his expedition to La Plata.
XVIII. 1—discovery of Newfoundland
by, 216.
Cabra, African town, V. 767.
Cabral, (Alvarez), X. 308, 399—his dis¬
covery of Brazil, V. 188.
Cabrera, Spanish island, V. 767.
 (General), XX. 513-14.
Cabul, or Caubul, V. 767 ; XI. PI. 286.
Cabyna, island, V. 767.
Cacao, its culture in Mexico, XIV. 801
—sp. gr. of cacao butter, XII. 27.
Cacavone, Italian town, V. 767.
Caccamo, Sicilian city, V. 767.
Caccini, XXI. 252.
Caceres, Spanish town, V. 768.
Cachalong, a mineral, V. 768; XV. 157,
30
INDEX
CAC—CAH
Cachao, V. 768—(St), XX. 94.
Cachah, V. 768.
Cachias, in Brazil, XIV. 241.
Cachibou, specific gravity of, Xlt. 27.
Cacholong, a mineral, V. 768; XV. 157.
Cachunde, V. 768.
Cacophonia, V. 768.
Cactese, in botany, V. 113.
Cactus, IV. 748.
Cacus, V. 768.
Cadalen, French town, V. 768.
Cadaki, V. 768.
Cadastre, X. 209.
Cade (Jack), VIII. 734 ; XIII. 487.
Cadence, V. 768.
Cadenet, French city, V. 768.
Caderoesse, French city, V. 768.
Cadet, V. 768, 769.
Cadet and Brisson, their experiments
with a burning-glass, V. 738.
Cadi, V. 769—in Egypt, VIII. 521.
Cadieescher^ V. 769.
Cadilac, French city, V. 769.
Cadiz, V. 769—Drake’s expedition to,
VIII. 757—taken by the English in
1596, 758—their attempt upon it in
1702, V. 368.
Cadizadelites, V. 769.
Cadmean Letters, V. 770 ; XVII. 395.
Cadmium, V. 770; VI. 410—salts of ox¬
ide of, 450—sp. gr. of, XII. 27.
Cadmus, V. 770 ; XV. 665—letters in¬
troduced into Greece by, XVII. 395,
429—Thebes founded by, XXI. 194.
 of Miletus, V. 770.
Cadoual (George), X. 129.
Cadrites, V. 770.
Cadsand, island, V. 770.
Caduceus, V. 770.
Cadus, V. 770.
Oadush, V. 770.
Cadutinada, in Hindostan, V. 770.
Cascilia, serpents, XX. 154.
Cselian hill, XIX. 424, 426.
CiELius (Aurelianus), V. 770.
Caen, French city, V. 771.
Csenurus, zoophyte, XXI. 995.
Cajre, in Etruria, V. 771.
Caerleon, in Monmouthshire, V. 771.
Caermarthen, V. 771.
Caermarthenshire, V. 771.
Caernarvon, V. 772.
Caernarvonshire, V. 772—embank¬
ments in, VIII. 677, 680.
Caerwys, in Flintshire, V. 774.
Ca;salpinus (Andrew), V. 774; XVII.
727—on botany, V. 71.
Cajsar (Julius), V. 775; XIX. 395, et
seq. ; XI. 478—his triumph over the
Roman nobility, I. 305—his invasion
of Britain, V. 297—his reform of the
calendar, VI. 5—Dr Clarke’s edition
of nis Commentaries, VI. 729—his
expedition to Egypt, VIII. 475—his as¬
sumption of sovereignty, XIV. 463—
his conduct in Africa, XVI. 308—his
expedition against Pharnaces, XVIII.
361—the Helvetii defeated by, XXI.
42—death of, XIX. 398.
 , title of, V. 775.
 (Sir Julius), V. 776.
C^sarea, an ancient city in Palestine,
V. 776; XVI. 742.
CjESARians, V. 776.
CiESARONES, V. 776.
C^stus, V. 776.
C.®sura, V. 776.
C^eteris paribus, V. 776.
Caffa, V. 776 ; IV. 661; VII. 473—
commerce of, IV. 361.
Caffila, V. 776.
Caffraria, XII. 659.
Caffres, an African tribe, II. 226, 233—
their language, XIII. 94.
Caganus, or Cacanus, V. 776.
Cagayan Sooloo, V. 776.
Cage, V. 776.
Caggiano, Italian city, V. 776.
■Cagliari, Sardinian city, V. 776.
  (Capo di), V. 777.
 (Paolo), V. 777.
Cagnano, Neapolitan town, V. 777.
Cahokia, in Illinois, XII. 248.
CAH—CAL
Cahorra, volcano of, VI. 74.
Cahors, in France, V. 777.
Cahusac, French town, V. 777.
Caifong. See China.
Caillac, in France, V. 777.
Caille ("N. L. de la), V. 777—measure¬
ment of degrees of latitude by, I. 658.
Cailleau on anonymous books, IV. 628
—his Bibliographical Dictionary, 630.
Cailliaud (Monsieur), ancient Egyptian
city discovered by, VIII. 560.
Caimacan, V. 778.
Caiman Islands, V. 778.
Cain, son of Adam, V. 778.
Cainites, sect of heretics, V. 778.
Caipiias, Jewish high-priest, V. 777.
Cairina, bird, XVI. 637.
Cairns, or barrows, V. 778 ; IV. 409.
Cairngorums, II. 29.
Cairo, V. 779 ; II. 230 ; VIII. 519—
captured by the British in 1801, V.
505—besieged by the Crusaders, VIII.
480—towns in Italy so named, V. 779.
Cairoan, African city, V. 780; II. 235.
Caisse d’escompte, X. 39.
Caisson, V. 780.
Caistor, V. 780—canal, XVI. 8.
Caithness, V. 780—fisheries, IX. 601.
Caius, Institutes of, VI. 712, 715, 716.
 (Dr John), V. 782.
Cajare, French town, V. 782.
Cajazzo, Neapolitan city, V. 782.
Cajetan (Cardinal), V. 782.
Cajuput oil, V. 782.
Cake, V. 782.
Caking-coal, VI. 444.
Calabash, V. 783.
Calabozzo, temperature at, II. 612.
Calabria, V. 783—British expedition
to, in 1806, V. 523—earthquakes in,
XVII. 511.
Calabritto, Italian city, V. 783.
Calahorra, Spanish town, V. 783.
Calais, V. 783—tournament at, VI.
608—taken by the English VIII. 728
—regained by the French, 755.
 (Pas de), V. 783.
   (St), in France, V. 783.
Calaite, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Calamanco, V. 783.
Calamaria, serpents, XX. 138.
Calamianes, islands, V. 783.
Calamine, V. 784; XV. 142—mines
of, in Derbyshire, VII. 735—pyro-elec¬
tricity of, VIII. 598—specific gravity
of, XII. 27, 28.
Calamite, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Calamity, pleasure from contemplating
scenes of, VIII. 54.
Calamota, island, V. 784.
Calamus, V. 784.
Calahy (Edmund), V. 784.
Calandra, insect, IX. 174.
Calandrini, the first improver of the
Newtonian theory of the moon, I. 663.
Calandrinia, in botany, V. 63.
Calanore, Hindoo town, V. 784.
Calao, bird, XVI. 593.
Calappa, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Galas (John), V. 784.
Calascibetta, in Sicily, V. 785.
Calash, V. 785.
Calasio (Marius), V. 785—his Concord¬
ance of the Bible, VII. 196.
Calasiris, V. 785.
Calatafini, in Sicily, V. 785.
Calatanisetta, V. 785.
Calatayud, in Spain, V. 785.
Calathus, V. 785—insect, IX. 126.
Calator, V. 785.
Calatrava, V. 785—Knights of, ib.
Calatvotura, V. 786.
Calauria, island, V. 785.
Calayan, island, V. 786.
Calcagni (Dr), on the mortality in Paler¬
mo, XV. 538.
Calcar (John de), V. 786.
Calcareous Spar, V. 786—its crystal¬
lization, VII. 512, et seq.
 ball in animals, XXI. 626.
Calcearium, V. 786.
Calcedon, VI. 307.
Calcedony, V. 786; XV. 157.
CAL
Calceola, in conchology, XV. 344.
Calchas, V. 787.
Calcinato, Italian town, V. 787.
Calcium, VI. 396.
Calc-sinter, V. 787.
Calc-tuff, V. 787.
Calculating-machines, XIV. 354.
Calculation, Grecian and Roman me¬
thods of, II. 5-6.
Calculus, V. 787.
 (urinary), VI. 501; XVII. 479—
sp. gr. of, XII. 28—in the domestic
animals, XXI. 628—cure of calculous
diseases, XX. 841. See Lithotomy.
 , in mathematics, V. 787—James
Bernouilli on the, IV. 591. See Flux¬
ions and Geometry (New)—Differen¬
tial, V. 787 ; see Differential and Ge¬
ometry (New)—of Partial Differences,
787—of Exponentials, ib.—of Func¬
tions, ib.—of Finite Differences, ib.—
of Derivations, ib.—of Probabilities,
ib.—of Sines, ib.; II. 485—Integral,
XIV. 323—of Variations, V. 787 ;
XXL 557—Minervie, V. 788.
Calcutta, V. 788—botanic garden of,
V. 77, n. 2—cotton-mill at, VII. 397
—Black Hole of, XI. 415, 732.
Caldarium, V. 792.
Calder, river, its navigation, XVI. 7—
and Hebble navigation, XVI. 9.
Calderinus, V. 792.
Calderon de la Barca, V. 792.
Calderwood (David), V. 792.
Caldew, river, VII. 536.
Caldiero, in Lombardy, VI. 1.
Caldron, or Cauldron, VI. 1.
Caldwall (Richard), VI. 1.
Caledonia, VI. 1.
Caledonian Canal, XVI. 9 ; XIX. 750.
Caledonians, VI. 1 ; XIX. 695, 696—
Agricola’s wars with the, V. 300;
XIX. 405, 406, 695.
Calefaction, VI. 2.
Calella, Spanish town, VI. 2.
Calenberg, in Hanover, VI. 2.
Calendar, VI. 3—Mexican,II. 623, 634
—Burmese, IV. 245—Hindoo, VI. 263
—Druidical, VIII. 206 — Egyptian,
554—French revolutionary, X. 84—
gardener’s, XI. 687—why not reform¬
ed in Russia, XIX. 585—errors from
confounding civil and ecclesiastical
years, XVIII. 391, n. See Chrono¬
logy, Day, Month, Year.
Calender, VI. 17—calendering of cot¬
ton by bleachers, IV. 688.
 of Monteith, VI. 21.
Calenders (Mahommedan), VI. 21.
Calends, VI. 4.
Calendulin, VI. 478.
Calentius (Elisias), VI. 21.
Calenture, VI. 21.
Calenzana, Corsican city, VI. 21.
Calepin (Ambrosius), VI. 21.
Calf, VI. 21—management of calves, II.
326—fatting of, VII. 592.
 (GoldenT, VI. 21.
Cali, town in Popayan, VI. 21.
Calian, Hindoo town, VI. 21.
Caliban, character of, XX. 187, n. 2.
Caliber, VI. 22—compasses—rule, ib.
Calico, VI. 22 — manufacture of, in
Bengal, IV. 567—cotton calicoes, VII.
407.
Calico-Printing, VIII. 338; XVIII.
537.
Calicoote, in Hindostan, VI. 22.
Calicut, in Hindostan, VI. 22.
Caliduct, VI. 22.
California, VI. 22 ; XIV. 820—cli¬
mate of, II. 610—probable descent of
the natives of, 634.
Caliga, VI. 23.
Caligati, VI. 23.
Caligawn, in Hindostan, VI. 23.
Caligula, Roman emperor, VI. 23-
reign of, XIX. 401—his expedition to
Britain, V. 298—his persecution of
the Jews, XII. 573.
Caliph, VI. 23.
Caliphate, VI. 24.
Calippio period, VI. 24, 657.
CAL
Calippus, XXI. 56—his astronomy, III.
729—his correction of the Metonio
cycle, VI. 7.
Calista, VI. 24.
Calitri, Italian town, VI. 24.
Calixtins, VI. 24.
Call, VI. 24.
Callac, French town, VI. 24.
Callacand, VI. 24.
Callan, Irish town, VI. 24.
 (Rev. N. J.), his huge electro¬
magnet, XXI. 686.
Callander, in Perthshire, VI. 24.
Callao, town in Peru, VI. 24.
 , or Campello, VI. 25.
Callas, French city, VI. 25.
Callatabellota, in Sicily, VI. 25.
Callavayas, IV. 753.
Callet’s Tables portatives des Logar-
ithmes, XIII. 420.
Callian, French town, VI. 25.
Calliani, in Hindostan, VI. 25.
Callicera, insect, IX. 272.
Caliichroma, insect, IX. 178.
Callicrates, sculptor, VI. 25.
Callidium, insect, IX. 179.
Calligraphy, VI. 25.
Callimachus, architect, VI. 25.
— , poet, VI. 25—his quarrel with
Appollonius the Rhodian, III. 290.
Callimorpha, insect, IX. 248.
Callingapatam, VI. 25.
Callinger, VI. 25 ; V. 704, 706.
Calling, Italian town, VI. 26.
Callinus, Greek poet, VI. 26.
Calliondrog, VI. 26.
Callionymus, fish, XII. 194.
Calliope, VI. 26 ; XV. 603.
CALLIPA3DIA, VI. 26.
Calliper, VI. 22.
Callirhipis, insect, IX. 140.
Callirrhoe, fountain, VI. 26.
Callistea, Lesbian festival, VI. 26.
Callisthenes, VI. 26.
Callistratus, VI. 26.
Callithrix, an animal, XIV. 92.
Callitrichese, in botany, V. 110.
Callomyia, insects, IX. 276.
Callorhynchus, fish, XII. 230.
Callot (James), engraver, VI. 26.
Callow, VI., 26.
Callvizzano, in Italy, VI. 26.
Callygong Hills, VI. 26.
Calm, VI. 26—latitudes, ib.
Calmar, in Sweden, VI. 26 ; IV. 327—
compact of, VII. 721.
Calmet (Augustine), VI. 26.
Calmont, French town, VI. 26.
Calmuc skull, II. 784.
Calne, town in Wiltshire, VI. 26.
Calobata, insects, IX. 287.
Calogeri, monks, VI. 27.
Calomel, VI. 417.
Calonne (Mons. de), X. 40.
Caloptrophorus, bird, XVI. 625.
Calopus, insect, IX. 167.
Caloric, XI. 180. See Heat.
Calorimeter, XX. 600.
Calorimotor, Dr Hare’s, XXI. 672.
Calosa, Spanish town, VI. 27.
Calosoma, insects, IX. 132
Calotes, reptile, XIX. 143.
Calotte, VI. 27.
Calowz, in Hindostan, VI. 27.
Calpe, VI. 27.
Calpurnius Flamma, VI. 191.
 (Titus), Latin poet, VI. 27.
Caltagirone, Sicilian city, VI. 27.
Caltura, in Ceylon, VI. 27.
Calumet, VI. 29.
Calumny, VI. 29—oath of, ib.
Caluso, Italian town, VI. 27.
Calvados, in France, VI. 27.
Calvart (Denis), VI. 27.
Calvary, VI. 27 ; XII. 547, 549.
Calvert (Geo.), Lord Baltimore, VI. 27.
Calvi, VI. 28—siege of, XVI. 84.
Calvin (John), VI. 28 ; XIX. 94—his
disregard of the authority of Aristotle,
I. 16—on usury, 233—his controver¬
sies with Servetus, XX. 157.
Calvinism, V. 29 — Predestination,
XVIII. 515—original sin, &c., XXL
INDEX
CAL-CAM
219, et .?«?.—opinions of the early
Calvinists respecting the Lord’s Sup¬
per, XX. 816—Crypto-Calvinists, YI.
29.
Calvisius (Seth), VI. 29.
Calvisson, French city, VI. 29.
Calvds (C. L.), Roman orator, VI, 29.
Calx, VI. 29.
Calybites, VI. 29.
Calycanthese, in botany, V. 108.
Calyeereas, in botany, V. 116.
Calyciflorae, in botany, V. 41.
Calycist^;, VI. 29.
Calydon, in ^Jtolia, VI. 29.
Calypso, VI. 29.
Calyptorhynchus, bird, XVI. 603.
Calyptra, in botany, V. 55.
Calyptraea, in conchology, XV. 349.
Calyx, VI. 30; III. 95, 96; V. 39, 42.
Cam, VI. 33—its navigation, XVI. 10.
 , in mechanics, XIV. 447, 448.
Camaieu, VI. 30.
Camaldulians, VI. 30.
Camalodenum, VI. 30.
Camana, in Peru, VI. 30.
Camandoo, VI. 30.
Camapuam, river, XIX. 245.
Camapuania, in Brazil, XIV. 325.
Camarana, island, VI. 30.
Camarota, insects, IX. 288.
Camassei (Andrea), painter, VI. 30.
Cambay, in Hindostan, VI. 30.
Cambayes, cotton cloths, VI. 31,
Camber, VI. 31.
Cambered Decks, VI. 31.
Cambert, French musician, VI. 31.
Camberwell, in Surrey, VI. 31.
Cambio, VI. 31.
Cambist, VI. 31.
Cambium, V. 33; XXL 586.
Camblet, VI. 31.
Cambo, French town, VI. 31.
Cambodium, VI. 31.
Camboja, river, III. 676.
Cambong, island, VI. 32.
Cambray, VI. 32—League of, XII.
476.
Cambremer, French town, VI. 32.
Cambria, VI. 32.
Cambrian rocks, XV. 191.
Cambric, VI. 32—manufacture of cot¬
ton cambric, VII. 408.
Cambridge, VI. 32—Bentley’s govern¬
ment of Trinity College, IV. 577—
botanical school of, V. 83—libraries,
XIII. 299—early printing at, XVIII.
554—the Northumberland equatorial,
XXI. 142—university, 500—colleges
and halls, 505.
*———, a town in Massachusetts, VI.
33; XIV. 303, 305.
Cambridgeshire, VI. 33.
Cambuskenneth, VI. 720.
Cambyses, XVII. 259—his conquest of
Egypt, VIII. 468 — his expedition
against the Macrobians, IX. 378 
his treatment of Croesus, XX. 454,
n. 4. t
Camden (William), VI. 35.
' (Marquis of), relinquishment of
a pension by, V. 544.
 , town in Carolina, VI. 36.
Camel, XIV. 156—its stomach, III. 35
—water-cells in stomach, 36—Arabian,
328—Asiatic, 682—structure of, XVII.
709—caravans of, in the Sahara or
Great Desert, XIX. 613.
  , river, its navigation, XVI. 10.
Cameleons, reptiles, XIX. .148. See
Chameleon.
Camellia, culture of, XI. 687.
Camelodendm, VI. 30.
Camelopard, XIV. 156, 161 ; II. 227 ;
XVII. 709.
Camelopardalis, XIV. 161.
Cameo, or Camaieu, VI. 30.
Camera TEolia, VI. 36.
 lucida, VI. 36.
—  obsccra, VI. 38; XVI. 353,
513—invention of, I. 508.
Cameraries (Joachim), VI. 38.
Cameri, Italian town, VI. 38.
Camerino, in Italy, VI. 38.
31
CAM
Camerlingo, VI. 38.
Cameron (John), VI. 38.
 (Richard), a leader of the Scot¬
tish Covenanters, V. 353 ; VI. 41.
Cameronians, VI. 41; XIX. 764.
Camigten, island, VI. 41.
Camilli and Camilla!, VI. 41.
Camillus (M. F.), VI. 41 ; XIX. 374.
Caminha, in Portugal, VI. 41.
Camis, or Kamis, VI. 42.
Camisade, VI. 42.
Camisards, VI. 42.
Camiso, Sicilian city, VI. 42.
Camletine, VI. 42.
Camoens (Louis), VI. 42—poetry of,
XVIII. 163.
Camonica, Italian town, VI. 43.
Camp, VI. 43.
Campagna, Italian city, VI. 44.
Campaign, VI. 44—plan of, XXL 733.
Campan (Madame), quotation from, on
animal magnetism, XIV. 14.
Campanella (Thos.), VI. 44; I. 26.
Campanero, bird, XVI. 570.
Campani (Matthew), VI. 44.
Campaniform, VI. 44.
Campanini, marble, VI. 44.
Campanulacese, in botany, V. 117.
Campanus of Navarre, X. 429.
Campbell (Castle), VI. 722.
  (Arch, and John), earls, mar¬
quises, and dukes of Argyle, VI. 44,
45. See Argyle.
 (Sir Arch.),his expedition against
the Burmese, V. 567 ; IV. 247.
  (Geo.), D.D., VI. 47—sense in
which he uses the words physics and
physiology, I. 9—his merits as a wri¬
ter, 220, 222—his funeral sermon, and
character, V. 600 — on abstraction,
XIV. 621, n. 2—on signs of ideas, 625
—on belief of testimony, 641—on rhe¬
toric, XIX. 200, et seq.—on the prin¬
ciples of translation, XXI. 344.
 (John), historian, VI. 46.
 (Major), executed for killing in
a duel, VIII. 254.
 (Rev. Mr.), his visit to Lattakoo,
in Southern Africa, V. 22.
 (Thomas), on Chaucer’s Canter¬
bury Tales, VI. 338—on the Hebrew
poets, XVIII. 146-7—on the charac¬
ters of the Iliad, 149.
Campbell’s Island, IV. 217,
Campbeltown, VI. 48.
Campden, in Glostershire, VI. 48.
Campeachy, VI. 48 ; XL 550; XIV. 817
—taken by the bucaneers, V. 625.
Camper (Peter), VI. 48 ; XX. 829—his
anatomical labours, II. 703—his facial
angle, 785 ; III. 6 ; XVII. 701.
Camperdown, battle of, V. 482 ; X. 107.
Camphor, VI. 488—effect of electricity
on its odor, VIII. 636—specific gravity’
of, XII. 28—is a narcotic, XIV. 507
optical properties of, XVI. 505.
Camphoric acid, VI. 430.
Campian (Edmund), VI.>51.
Campicersio, VI. 51.
Campidoctores, VI. 51.
Campidcctor, VI. 51.
Campion, in Tartary, VI. 51.
Campit.®, VI. 51.
Campli, Italian city, VI. 52.
Campobasso, VI. 52.
Campo-F ormio, Italian town, VI. 52—
treaty of, X. 107.
Campomanes (D. P. R., Conde de), a
Spanish statesman, VI. 52.
Campo Mayor, VI. 52.
Camprodon, in Spain, VI. 52.
Campsia, insects, IX 166.
Campsie, in Stirlingshire, VI. 52—alum-
work at, II. 573, 576.
Camptocerus, insect, IX. 176.
Camptorhynchus, insect, IX. 174.
Campus, VI. 52—Mail—Martius—Scele-
ratus, ib.
Campvere, XXL 566.
Campylomyza, insects, IX. 260.
Camroop, in Hindostan, VI. 52.
Camus (C. S. L.), VI. 53—on the line of
traction, XIV. 441.
CAM—CAN
Camus Mons.), on bibliographical dic¬
tionaries, IV. 630—on the classifica¬
tion of books, 631, 632.
 (John Peter), VI. 54.
Camwood, a dye-stuff, VIII. 311.
Cana of Galilee, XVI. 744.
Canaan, son of Ham, VI. 54.
  (Land of), VI. 54—its ancient
divisions, XVI. 749—human sacrifices
in, XIX. 606. See Palestine.
Canaanites, their language, XIII. 83.
Canabac, African island, VI. 55.
Canada, VI. 55—bill of 1791 for the
government of, V. 458—invaded by
the Americans in 1813, 537—discon¬
tents in 1825, 562—emigration to,
VIII. 687, 689—Lord Selkirk’s colony
on Red River, 691—inland navigation
of, XVI. 27—late rebellion in, XVIII.
783—timber of, XXI. 295—weights
and measures of, 852.
Canal de Principe, VI. 69.
Canals, VI. 69; XVI. 1 — aqueduct
bridges of, III. 322—dredging of, VIII.
193—motion of water in, XII. 73;
XIX. 253—use of inclined plane in,
XIV. 363—draw and swing bridges for,
XVI. 35—remarks on construction of,
XXI. 788. See Aqueduct, Tunnel.
 of Aragon, XVI. 738—proposed,
from the Adriatic to Vienna, IV. 231
—of the Baltic, 331—in Belgium,
XVI. 129—at Birmingham, IV. 650
—in Brecon, V. 225—Brindley’s, 288
—in Cambridgeshire, VI. 33—Canada,
33—Cheshire, 509—Derbyshire, VII.
735 — Devonshire, 745— the Great
Doab, 684—Edinburgh and Glasgow,
VIII. 430—in Egypt, 514, 523, 550;
II. 413 ; XX. 788—England, VIII. 763
—France, X. 172—Forth and Clyde,
VIII. 258; X. 550; XIX. 751—in
Germany, X. 483—Glasgow and Ar-
drossan, IV. 260; X. 551—in Glouces¬
tershire, 586—Holland, XI. 531—Ire¬
land, XII. 413, 713—Italian, for irri¬
gation, 484 ; XIII. 470—in Kentucky,
XII. 698—of Kiel, IV. 331; VII.
727—in Lanarkshire, XIII. 50—Lan¬
cashire, 53—Leitrim, 223—Lincoln¬
shire, 352—communicating with the
river Mersey, 393—in Maryland, XIV.
272—Massachusetts, 303—Mesopota¬
mia, IV. 281—Mexico, XIV. 813—
Middlesex, XIII. 495 ; XV. 61—
Monkland, X. 551—Navarre, XV. 744
—New Jersey, XII. 543—Newry, VIII.
131—Nicaragua, XV. 201—in Prussia,
XVIII. 691—of the Rhine and Rhone,
XIX. 226—in Russia, 577—Scotland,
750—Shropshire, 622—Spain, XX.
520—Staffordshire, 558—Isthmus of
Suez, 788 — Surrey, 847 — Sweden,
XXL 389—United States, 470—War¬
wickshire, 782—Wiltshire, 891.
Canale, Italian town, VI. 69.
Cananore, VI. 69.
Canara, VI. 70—North, 71—South, 72.
Canaries, islands, VI. 72—language of
the, XIII. 94—weights and measures,
XXL 852.
Canary-bird, XVI. 581.
Cancar, in Cambodia, VI. 75.
Cancellaria, in conchology, XV. 346.
Cancelli, VI. 75.
Ganger, in astronomy, VI. 75—tropic
of, ib.—disease, XVII. 487.
Cancerre, in France, VI. 75.
Canoherizante, VI. 75.
Cancon, French town, VI. 75.
Cancroma, bird, XVI. 618.
C and a, Italian town, VI. 75.
Candace, queen of Nubia, VIII. 557.
Candahar, or Kandahar, VI. 75.
Candaules, XIII. 607.
Candesh, XII. 707.
Candia, island and city, VI. 76—taken
by the Turks, XXI, 413—weights and
measures of, 852.
Candiac (John Louis), VI. 77.
Candians of Ceylon, VI. 303.
Candidate, VI. 77.
Candidati Milites, VI. 77.
CAN
Candle, VI. 77—how to light one by
electricity, VIII. 625.
Candle-bombs, VI. 78.
Candlemas, VI. 78.
Candlestick, VI. 78.
Candolle (Mons. de), on botany, V. 30,
et seq. ; V. 82, n. 1—his classification
of plants, 93—his theory of irrigation,
XII. 456.
Candy, in Ceylon, VI. 78, 302—taken
by the British, 305.
 (Sugar), VI. 79 ; XX. 796.
Candying, VI. 79.
Cane, VI. 79—cane-sugar, 472—sugar¬
cane, XX. 790.
 , river, VI. 79.
Canea, in Candia, VI. 79.
Canelli, Italian town, VI. 79.
Canellin, VI. 475.
Canephor®, VI. 79.
Canephoria, VI. 79.
Canes, or Khans, VI. 79.
 and Canches, VI. 79.
 Venatici, VI. 79.
Canet de Mar, VI. 79.
Caneto, Italian town, VI. 79.
Caneva, Italian town, VI. 79.
Cange (C. du F., Sieur du), VI. 79.
Cangi, VI. 80.
Cangiagio (Ludovico), VI. 80.
Cangozima, VI. 80.
Canicatti, in Sicily, VI. 81.
Canicula, star, VI. 81.
Canicular period, VI. 658.
Caniculum, VI. 81.
Canine teeth, in man, II. 780—in the
lower animals. III. 34.
Canini (J. A. and M. A.), VI. 81.
Caniparius’s treatise on inks, XII. 281.
Canis, VI. 81 ; XIV. 111. See Dog.
Canisius (Henry), VI. 81.
Canje, river, IV. 579.
Canker, VI. 81—in horses, XXI. 620.
Cann®, town in Apulia, VI. 81—battle
of, 198 ; XIX. 386.
Cannaletti, painter, XVI. 719.
Canne, Italian town, VI. 81.
Cannese, in botany, V. 132.
Cannel-coal, II. 665; VI. 444; XV. 172.
Cannequins, VI. 81.
Cannes, French city, VI. 81.
Cannibal, VI. 81 ; III. 248.
Cannibalism practised by some Ameri¬
can tribes, II. 621, 632—revolting con¬
clusion respecting it, from the fact that
the flesh of the highest classes of ani¬
mals is most nutritious, III. 166—in
Ansiko, 238—in New Zealand, IV. 216
—among the Battas, 451; XX. 806.
Canning (George), VI. 81—his acces¬
sion to power, V. 522—duel with Lord
Castlereagh, 527—declaration against
parliamentary reform, 556—appointed
foreign secretary in 1823, 558—his
eloquence and popularity, 560; XIX.
220—formation of a ministry in 1827
by, V. 569—his death and character,
570 —his corn-bill, ih.—his resolutions
for improvingthe corn-laws, VII. 341.
Cannon, VI. 843; XI. 34—boring of, V.
1—casting of, VI. 84—early use of, in
China, 574. See Artillery, Gunnery.
 of a watch, VI. 786.
Cannon-bones in mammalia. III. 9, 10.
Cannonade, VI. 89.
Cano. See Kano.
Canoe, VI. 89; XII. 490
Canon, VI. 89-91. See Bible, Deutero-
canonical.
Canon law, VI. 91—study of the, 708;
at Bologna, XXI. 488; and at Ox¬
ford, 492.
Canoness, VI. 94.
Canongate, VIII. 428.
Canonica, VI. 94.
Canonical, VI. 94—Hours—Obedience
—Sins—Punishments—Life, ib.—Let¬
ters, 95.
Canonicum, VI. 95.
Canonist, VI. 95.
Canonization, VI. 95.
Canonry, VI. 95.
Canopus, VI. 95; VIII. 554
e
32
INDEX
CAN—CAP
Canopy, VI. 95 5 III. 465.
Canosa, Italian city, VI. 95.
Canoya (Antonio), VI. 95—his sculp¬
ture, XX. 8.
Canso, in Nova Scotia, VI. 98.
Canstadt, in Wirtemberg, VI. 98.
Cant, VI. 98.
Cant-body, in ship-building, XX. 276—
laying off the cant-timbers, 280, and
cant-transom, 283.
Canta, in Peru, VI. 98.
Cantabria, VI. 99.
Cantabrian language, XIII. 88.
Cantabrum, VI. 99.
Cantacuzenus (Johannes), VI. 99.
Cant®, VI. 2.
Cantal, in France, VI. 99.
Cantarini (Simon), VI. 99.
Cantata, in music, VI. 99.
Canteleu, French town, VI. 99.
Cantemir (D. and A.), VI. 99.
Canterbury, VI. 100—archbishop of,
III. 397—Bechet’s shrine at, IV. 509
—archbishopric of, VIII. 763—navi¬
gation, XVI. II.
Canterus (William), VI. 100.
Cantharidse, insects, IX. 168.
Cantharides, VI. 100—eaten by hedge¬
hogs, III. 166—poisonous, XIV. 507.
Cantharidin, VI. 505.
Cantharis, insect, IX. 170.
 , fish, XII. 177.
Cantjcees, VI. 100.
Cantimarons, VI. 100.
Cantium, promontory, VI. 100.
Canto, VI. 100.
Canton, VI. 101—in heraldry, XI. 251.
■ , Chinese province and town, VI.
100—commerce of, VI. 582.
   (John), VI. 104—on the com¬
pressibility of water, I. 607; II. 114 ;
XII. 9—his life and character, I. 607
on the aurora borealis, IV. 202—on
electricity, VIII. 570—on phosphor¬
escence, XIII. 336 — on magnetism,
689—his artificial magnets, 756.
Cantoning of soldiers, VI. 105.
Cantova (P. Juan Antonio), on the
Caroline Islands, XVIII. 318.
Cantred, or Cantreth, VI. 105.
Cantyre, VI. 105—Mull of, ib.
Canusium, town in Apulia, VI. 105.
Canute, VI. 105 ' XVI. 258—reign of,
VIII. 706-7-fleet of, XX. 214.
Canuison (Charles), XXI. 13.
Canvass, VI. 105—whether used by
ancient painters, XVI. 699, n.
Cany, a French town, VI. 106.
Canynge (Wm.), his ships, XX. 218.
Canzone, in music, VI. 106.
Canzonetta, VI. 106.
Caoreo, island, VI. 106.
Caoutchouc, VI. 106, 492—its use in
making catheters, VII. 567—specific
gravity of, XII. 28—mineral, IV. 654 ;
XV. 172.
Cap, VI. 108—of maintenance, ib.
Cap and Button Isles, VI. 108.
Capacity, VI. 108.
Capaluan, island, VI. 108.
Caparison, VI. 108.
Cape, VI. 108; X. 408.
Cape Breton, V. 228.
Cape Coast Castle, VII. 9.
Cape Colony, X. 610.
Cape of Good Hope. See Good Hope.
Cape Town, X. 611.
Cape-cavy, an animal, XIV. 151.
Capell (Edward), VI. 109.
Capella, a fixed star, VI. 109.
Capello (Admiral), his expedition against
the Algerines, II. 507.
Capellus (Lewis), VI. 109—his Critioa
Sacra, XII. 692.
Capercailzie, bird, XVI. 611—shooting,
XX. 316.
Capernaum, VI. 109 ; XVI. 744.
Caperolans, VI. 109.
Capet (Hugh), X. 11.
Caph, a Jewish measure, VI. 110.
Caphtor, in Egypt, VI. 110.
Capi-Aga, Turkish officer, VI. 110.
Capias, in law, VI. 110.
CAP—CAR
Capigi, VI. 110.
Capillament, VI. 110.
Capillary, VI. 110.
Capillary action, VI. 110; XII. 38—
Hauksbee’s experiments on, I. 615—
other experiments on, and explana¬
tions of, 616—its effect in the baro¬
meter, IV. 391—how far the cause of
the ascent of sap in plants, XXI. 573.
 roots, III. 88.
 vessels of the human body, II.
723 ; XVII. 640—their action, 644.
Capilupi (Camilius andLselius), VI. 122.
Capiou, V. 68.
Capiscolus, VI. 122.
Capital, VI. 122—letters, ib.
 , in architecture, III. 465.
 , in political economy, VII. 164
—accumulation and employment of,
XVIII. 279, et seq.
  punishments, XIV. 513—cases
in England and Wales, VIII. 803.
Capitanata, in Italy, VI. 122.
Capitanei, VI. 122.
Capitaneus. VI. 122.
Capitania, VI. 122.
Capitation, a tax, VI. 122.
Capite, VI. 122—Censi, ib.
Capitol, in Rome, VI. 123.
Capitoline Hill, XIX. 424, 425.
 Games, VI. 123.
Capitolin us (Julius), historian, VI. 123.
Capitularies, VI. 123.
Capitulation, VI. 124.
Capitulum, VI. 124—in botany, V. 41.
Capizzi, Sicilian town, VI. 124.
Capmani (1). Antonio de), VI. 124.
Capnicon, VI. 124.
Capnomancy, VI. 124.
Capo d’ Istria, VI. 125 ; X. 750, 751.
Capon, VI. 125.
Caponiere, VI. 125.
Caposele, Italian town, VI. 127.
Cappadocia, VI. 125.
Cappanus, VI. 127.
Capparidae, in botany, V. 97.
Capped Hock, XXI. 617.
Capperonnier (Claud), his edition of
Quintilian, V. 718.
Capraia, island, VI. 127.
Capranu, Turkish village, VI. 127.
Capri, island near Naples, VI. 127.
Capriata (Peter John), VI. 127.
Capric acid, VI. 430.
Capricorn, VI. 127—Tropic of, ib.
Caprification, VI. 127.
Caprifoliacese, in botany, V. 115.
Caprimulgus, bird, XVI. 578 ; VI. 128.
Caprino, a town of Verona, VI. 128.
Caprioles, VI. 128.
Caproic acid, VI. 430.
Capromys, in zoology, XIV. 132.
Capros, fish, XII. 189.
Capryke, in the Netherlands, VI. 128.
Capsa, VI. 128; XVI. 308.
 , in conchology, XV. 342.
Capsali, in Cerigo, VI. 128.
Capsarius, VI. 128.
Capsicum, VI. 128 ; XI. 675.
Capsquares, VI. 128.
Capstan, VI. 128—a powerful one de¬
scribed, XIV. 406.
Capsule, VI. 129—of the eye, II. 799-
in botany, VI. 129 ; V. 49.
Captain, VI. 129-30—naval, XVI. 52.
Caption, in Scots law, VI. 130.
Captive, VI. 130.
Captivity, VI. 130.
 (Jewish), VI. 130 ; XII. 568.
Capture, VI. 130.
Capua, VI. 130—Hannibal’s conduct at,
199—taken by the Romans, 200.
Capuchins, VI. 130.
Capulus, molluscum, XV. 349, 364.
Caput, VI. 131—Baronix—Lupinum—
Mortuum, ib.
Capybara, in zoology, XIV. 140.
Car, or Carr, VI. 174.
Carabici, insects, IX. 114.
Carabine and Carabineers, VI. 131.
Carabus, insect, IX. 130.
Caracal, in zoology, XIV. 123.
Cakacalla,' Roman emperor, VI. 131;
CAR
XIX. 410—his cruelties at Alexandria,
II. 410—baths of, IV. 441—his pro¬
scription of Geta’s name, VIII. 534,
n. 8 — his war with the Parthians,
XVII. 106.
Car Ac all A, an ancient Roman gar¬
ment, VI. 131.
Caracara, bird, XVI. 561.
Caraccas, VI. 131—climate of, II. 612
—earthquake at, XVII. 512. See Co¬
lumbia.
Caracci (Agostino), VI. 131; XVI. 720.
— (Annibale), VI.131 ; XVI. 720
—on the works of Coreggio, II. 521.
 (Louis), VI. 131.
Caraccioli, the Letters of Pope Clement
XIV. written by, VI. 737.
 (Prince), execution of, XVI. 88.
Caracol, VI. 132.
Caract, VI. 132 ; VIII. 4 ; XV. 395.
Caractacus, king of the Britons, VI.
132; V. 298 ; XIX. 402.
Caragna-resin, sp. gr. of, XII. 28.
Caragrouth, a silver coin, VI. 132.
Caraites, Jewish sect, VI. 132.
Caraman, VI. 133.
Caramania, in Asia Minor, VI. 133.
Caramanta, in S. America, VI. 134.
Caramaru, V. 189, 190.
Carambola, XI. 659.
Caramnassa, river, VI. 134.
Carangas, silver-mines of, IV. 749.
Caranna, VI. 492.
Caranus, founder of Macedon, XIII. 619.
Caranx, fish, XII. 186.
Carapus, fish, XII. 226.
Carat, VI. 132 ; VIII. 4 ; XV. 395.
Caraudau, his process for manufacturing
alum, II. 577.
Caravacca, Spanish town, VI. 134.
Caravaggio, painter, XVI. 716.
Caravans, VI. 134—Asiatic commer¬
cial, HI. 699—from Damascus, VII.
607—Egyptian, VIII. 526—in the Sa¬
hara, XIX. 613.
Caravanserai, VI. 134.
Caravanseraskier, VI. 134.
Carbazotic acid, VI. 430.
Carbo-hydrogen, VI. 371.
Carbon, VI. 367—bisulphuret of, 377—
phosphuret of, 382 — sulphuret of,
VII. 62—specific gravity of, XII. 28—
whence derived by plants ? XXI. 571,
579. See Charcoal.
Carbonara, Italian town, VI. 134.
Carbonari, societies of the, XII. 478.
Carbonic acid, VI. 368—a component
part of the atmosphere, IV. 135 ;
XVII. 532—Dr Black’s discovery of,
IV. 655—Mr Cavendish on, VI. 261
—in collieries, VII. 611—poisonous
quality of, XIV. 504 ; XVIII. 177—
its application in moving engines,
XIV. 437—produced by respiration,
XVII. 646 ; XVIII. 122 ;-by germina¬
tion of seeds, XXI. 568 ; and by plants,
575, 577—in mineralogy, XV. 137.
——  oxide, VI. 369—poisonous qua¬
lity of, XIV. 504.
Carboniferous rocks, XV. 196.
Carbuncle, VI. 134.
Carburet of potassium, VI. 393 — of
cerium, 400—of zirconium, 401—of
iron, 404 — of manganese, 407—of
nickel, 408—of cobalt, 409.
Carburetted hydrogen, VI. 370; X. 366,
in mineralogy, XV. 137—natural pro¬
duction of, XVI. 184.
Carcanius on inscriptions, XII. 292.
Carcase, in gunnery, XI. 72.
Carcassonne, in France, VI. 134.
Carcaxente, Spanish town, VI. 135.
Carceres, ancient games, VI. 135.
Carcerules, in botany, V. 49.
Carcharius, fish, XII. 232.
Card, VI. 135. See Carding.
Cards, VI. 135—history of, XVIII. 539.
Cardan (Jerome), VI. 135—an instance
of the union of genius with weakness,
I. 441—on aeronautics, II. 179—his
improvements in algebra, 423, 455—
his lamp, XIII. 42—on mechanics,
XIV. 350.
CAR
Cardass, VI. 136.
Carders, VI. 136.
Cardiac, VI. 136.
Cardiff, in Glamorganshire, VI. 136;
X. 533—canal, XVI. 13.
Cardigan and Cardiganshire, VI. 137.
Cardinal, VI. 138—Points—Signs—
Winds—Numbers, ib. See Conclave,
Consistory.
Cardinalis (Hugo), IV. 612.
Carding of cotton, improvements in, by
Hargreaves, VII. 399—and by Ark¬
wright, 401—carding-machines, X.
556; XXL 931.
Cardioid, VI. 139.
Cardita, in conchology, XV. 342.
Carditis in animals, XXI. 632.
Cardito, Italian town, VI. 139.
Cardium, in conchology, XV. 341, 372.
Cardona, Spanish town, VI. 139.
Cardoon, culture of, XI. 674.
Carduelis, bird, XVI. 581.
Careening of ships, VI. 139.
Career, VI. 139.
Careglio, Italian town, VI. 140.
Carentan, French city, VI. 140.
Carentoir, French town, VI. 140.
Caret, VI. 140.
Carew (Geo.), primus, VI. 140.
 (Geo,), secundus, VI. 140.
 (Richard), VI. 140.
 (Thomas), Enligsh poet, VI. 140;
XVIII. 170.
Carey (Harry), VI. 140.
Carez, his polytypes, XVIII. 567.
Cargadors, VI. 141.
Cargill, a leader of the Scotch Covenant¬
ers, V. 353.
Cargo, VI. 141—super-cargo, ib.
Caria, in Asia-Minor, VI. 141.
Cariaco, in Colombia, VI. 141.
Cariacon, island, X. 772.
Cariama, bird, XVI. 617.
Caribbee Islands, VI. 141 ; III. 251-
serpents of the, XX. 137.
Caribert, X. 4.
Caribs, their skulls and complexion, II.
616—their character, 622.
Carica, in botany, V. 68.
Caricatur'a, in painting, VI. 141.
Caricous, VI. 141.
Carides, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Carignano, Italian city, VI. 141.
Carillons, chimes, VI. 141.
Carimata, island, VI. 141.
Carimon, Java, VI. 141.
Carina, VI. 141—in botany, V. 43.
Carina, VI. 142.
Carinaria, in conchology, XV. 344, 364.
Carini, Italian city, VI. 142.
Carinthia, VI. 142 ; IV. 228.
Carinthian mountains, XI. 725—Alps,
XII. 252.
Carinthine, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Carioles (Canadian), VI. 60.
Caris, genus of arachnides, III. 369.
Carisbrooke Castle, king Charles the
First at, V. 331-2.
Caritas, VI. 142.
Carke, VI. 142.
Carleton (Sir Dudley), VI. 142; V. 311
Carli, inscriptions at, XII. 291.
Carline and Carlines, VI. 142.
Carlingford, Irish town, VI. 142 —
lighthouse of, XX. 17.
Carlings of a ship, VI. 142 ; XX. 285.
Carlisle, VI. 142—Table of Mortality
at, III. 233—canal, XVI. 11.
 , in Illinois, XII. 248.
 , in Pennsylvania, XVII. 224.
 (Sir A.), on the structure of the
muscles, XVII. 609.
Carlisle’s galvanic experiments, XXI.
678.
Carlock, VI. 142.
Carlopago, Austrian town, VI. 143.
Carlos (San), in Venezuela, VI. 143.
  (Don), his attempts to obtain
the Spanish crown, XX. 510, ct seq-
Carlota, town in Spain, VI. 143.
Carlow, in Ireland, VI. 143.
Carlowitz, in Hungary, VI. 144
Carlsbad, in Bohemia, VI. 144.
INDEX
33
CAR
Caelsburg, in Austria, VI. 144, 145.
Carlsham, VI. 145 ; IV. 327.
Carlskrona.VI. 145—docks at, VIII. 80.
Carlsruue, German city, VI. 145.
Carlstadt, VI. 145.
Carlton (Sir Dudley), VI. 142; V. 311.
Carlyre (Joseph Dacre), VI. 145.
Carmagnola, Italian city, VI. 14G.
Carmel (Mount), VI. 14G ; XVI. 742.
Carmelites, religious order, VI. 146.
Carmen, VI. 147.
Carmentalia, Roman feast, VI. 147.
Carmichael (Prof.), on Grotius, I. 88.
Carmine, in crayon-painting, VII. 452
—in dyeing, VIII. 308.
Carmona, Spanish city, VI. 147.
Carmulla, in Hindustan, VI. 147.
Carnabii, VI. 2.
Casnac, French town, VI. 147.
Carnack, temple of, III. 410.
Carnapraycega, VI. 147.
Carnatic, VI. 147 ; XI. 421, et seq.
Carnation, among painters, VI. 148.
 , flower, culture of, XL 684.
Carnaul, in Hindustan, VI. 148.
Carne (Mr), on the Dead Sea, HI. 703.
Carneades, VI. 148—estimate which
Grotius formed of his ethics, I. 315.
Carnedde, VI. 149.
Carneia, ancient festival, VI. 149.
Carnelian, VI. 149 ; XV. 157—specific
gravity of, XII. 28.
Carnero, VI. 149.
Carnic Alps, II. 559.
Carnifex, VI. 149.
Carniola, VI. 149 ; IV. 228.
Carnival, VI. 149.
Carnivora, XIV. 105—their bones, III.
6, et seq. — muscles, 18 —organs of
smell, 21—eyes, 23—long intestines,
37—peculiarities of organization, 159
—their flesh generally unfit for food,
166—pairing of, 168.
 , insects, IX. 111.
Carnivorous, VI. 149.
Carnonacea;, VI. 2.
Carnot on the defence of fortified places,
IX. 771—his system of tactics, XXI.
738.
Carnusius, V. 301.
Caro (Annibal), poet, VI. 150.
Carolina (North), VI. 150—canals in,
XVI. 26; XXI. 472—railroads, 473.
- (South), VI. 150—canals in,
XVI. 26; XXI. 472—railroads, 473
—state-bonds, 479.
———, Spanish town, VI. 151.
 , code, XVIII. 735.
Carolinas, or Caroline Islands, VI.
151; XVIII. 317.
Caroline, consort of George II., her con¬
versations with Whiston, XXI. 870.
 , consort of George the Fourth,
V. 533, 535, 548—her arrival in Eng¬
land, 549—trial, 550—death, 554.
Caroline Books, VI. 151.
Carolostadians, VI. 151. *
Carolus, coins so called, VI. 151.
Caroor, in Hindustan, VI. 151.
Carora, in Venezuela, VI. 151.
Carotid arteries, VI. 151; II. 820.
Carouge, Swiss city, VI. 151.
Carp, VI. 151; XII. 197—angling for,
III. 146.
Carp^a, ancient dance, VI. 151.
Carpal bones, II. 789 ; III. 8, 13.
Carpates, now Carpathian mountains,
VI. 151; IV. 229 ; IX. 406; XI. 725;
XXI. 345.
Carpathium Mare, VI. 151.
Carpel, in botany, V. 44.
Carpenedolo, Italian town, VI. 152.
Carpentaria (Gulf of), VI. 152.
Carpenter, VI. 152 distinguished
from joiner, V. 683-work <f, in build-
mg, ib.—health of carpenters, XIV.
510—naval, XVI. 53.
•   (General), V. 375.
Carpenteriana, II. 676.
Carpentras, in France, VI. 152.
Carpentry, VI. 152—Roman know¬
ledge of, III. 419—strength of diffe¬
rent kinds of wood, XX. 757, et seq.;
CAR
of beams, 760, et seq. See Centre,
Joinery. Roof, Strength of Materials,
Timber.
Carpentum, VI. 172.
Carpets, VI. 172—Turkish, XXI. 427.
Carpet-Knights, VI. 174.
Carpi, in Italy, VI. 174.
(Ugo da), VI. 174—his improve¬
ment of wood-engraving, XXI. 917.
(Dr), on the magnetism of the
solar rays, XIII. 696.
 (Girolamo da), VI. 174.
Carpini, X. 397.
Carpino, Italian city, VI. 174.
Carpobalsamum, IV. 322.
Carpocratians, heretics, VI. 174.
Carpue on medical electricity, VIII. 640.
Carpus, in man, II. 788—the mamma¬
lia, III. 8—birds, 13.
Carr, or Car, VI. 174.
Carrac, or Carrack, VI. 174; XX. 217.
Carrara, Italian city, VI. 174—marble,
ib.; XIII. 595.
Carre (Robert), V. 304.
Carre (Louis), his experiments on capil¬
lary action, XII. 40.
Carrera, a leader in Chili, VI. 540.
  (Peter), on eruptions of Mount
iEtna, II. 205.
Carrhas, VII. 277—battle of, XVII. 103.
Carriages, VI. 175 ; VII. 4—duties on,
5—construction of, XIV. 439. See
Coach, Chariot.
Carrick, district of, VI. 175 ; IV. 259.
Carrick-on-Shannon, XIII. 224.
Carrick-on-Suir. in Tipperary, VI.
175; XXI. 316, 811.
Carrickfergus, VI. 175 ; III. 274.
Carrier, VI. 176.
• , French revolutionist, X. 93, n. 1
Carrier-pigeon, VI. 176. See Pigeon.
Carrion de los Condes, VI. 177.
Carron, river in Scotland, VI. 177 ;
XVI. 11 ; XX. 730.
 iron-works, VI. 178 ; XIX. 311 ;
XX. 733.
   (Loch) fishery, XIX. 487.
Carronade, VI. 178; XL 72.
Carrots, culture of, II. 289 ; XI. 670.
Carrousal, VI. 178.
Carruca, ancient chariot, VI. 178.
Carrucage, VI. 178.
Carrucate, VI. 178.
Carrying, VI. 178.
Carse, VI. 178 — of Falkirk, ib. -of
Gowrie, 179 — of Stirling, ib., 720;
XX. 729.
Carstairs (William), VI. 179.
Carstens (Jan), his voyage, IV. 204.
Carsucal (Rainier), VI. 179.
Cart, VI. 179—of war, ib.—agricultu¬
ral, II. 269.
 , river, XVI. 735; XIX. 119-
navigation, XVI. 11.
Cart-horse, II. 316 ; XL 596.
Cartago, VII. 384 ; XI. 19.
Carte (Thomas), VI. 170.
 Blanche, VI. 180.
Cartel,- VI. 180—cartel ship, ib
Carter (Dr), on disease of the pancreas,
XVII. 482.
 (John), his work on pointed ar¬
chitecture, III. 431.
Carteret (Captain), his discoveries in
Australasia, IV. 212, 213.
Cartes (Rene des). See Descartes.
Cartesian devils, XVIII. 98.
 philosophy. See Descartes.
Cartesians, VI. 183.
Carthage, VI. 183—ruins of, II. 235 ;
IV. 363—commerce, VII. 156—his¬
tory, XI. 472, ef seq.—wars with the
Romans, XIX. 384, 386, 388 ; and
Syracusans, XXI. 55, et seq. — con¬
quests in Spain, XX. 490.
 , in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
Carthaginian alphabet, II. PI. XIX.—
army, III. 589—voyages, X. 388, 389
—elephants, XII, 490 — language,
XIII. 83—religion, XVII. 451—hu¬
man sacrifices, XIX. 606—ships, XX.
211—slavery, 383.
Carthagena, VI. 206—building of, 195.
CAR—CAS
Carthagena, in Colombia, VI. 207—
Admiral Vernon’s expedition against,
V. 379—plundered by the bucaneers,
625.
Carthalo, Carthaginian general, VI. 192.
Carthamus, a dye-stuff, VIII. 310.
Carthusians, VI. 207.
Cartier (A.), voyages of, XVIII. 216.
Cartilage, XVII. 601, 656—whether con¬
tained in bone, II. 743, 745—struc¬
ture of, 747—synovial membrane of,
756—intervertebral, 760; XVII. 614
—ensiform, II. 764—of the ribs, 765;
larynx, 805 ; windpipe, 821; joints,
XVII. 604.
Cartilaginous fishes, XII. 229.
Cartismandua, V. 298.
Cart land Craigs, bridge at, III. 323.
Cartoon, or Carton, VI. 207.
Cartouche, VI. 208.
Cartridge, VI. 208—wire, XX. 305.
Cartridge-box, VI. 208.
Cartwright (Rev. E.), his power-loom,
'VII. 408 ; XXI. 830—his parallel
motion, XX. 659.
(Thomas), his work against the
Douay Bible, IV. 618.
 (William), VI. 208.
Cartwright’s rope-machine, XIX. 463.
Carucaturius, VI. 208.
Caruncle of the eye, II. 800—in various
animals, III. 24.
Carunculae, in botany, V. 50.
Carus, on comparative anatomy, III. 40.
 -, Roman emperor, XIX. 413.
Carvage, VI. 208.
Carvalho, his administration, V. 193.
Carver, VI. 208—and gilder, V. 692.
Carvin, French town, VI. 208.
Carving, VI. 208.
Carwar, in Hindustan, VI. 208.
Cary (Lucius), Lord Falkland, VI. 208.
See Falkland.
 (Rorert), VI. 209.
Caryates, ancient festival, VI. 209.
Caryatides, III. 416, 441, 465.
Carychium, in conchology, XV. 348.
Caryl (Joseph), VI. 209.
Caryll (John), English poet, VI. 209.
Caryocatactes, bird, XVI. 585.
Caryophyllaceae, in botany, V. 99.
Caryophyllieus, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Caryopsis, in botany, V. 48.
Casa, VI. 209—Santa, ib.—Grande, ib.
Casai de Caceres, VI. 209.
Casale, in Italy, VI. 209.
Casalnuovo, Italian towns, VI. 209.
Casalvieri, Italian town, VI. 209.
Casanare, in Colombia, XIII. 402.
Casanova, effects produced on, by a work
entitled La Cite Mystique, &c., I. 426.
Casas (Bartholomeo de Las), VI. 209.
Casati Manuscript, XL 339.
 (Paul), VI. 210.
Casaubon (Isaac de), VI. 211—Casau-
boniana, II. 676.
 (Meric), VI. 211—his edition of
Strabo, XIX. 779.
Casbin, or Casween, VI. 212.
Cascade, VI. 212—in gardening, X.
329. See Waterfall.
Cascaes, Portuguese town, VI. 212.
Cascante, Spanish city, VI. 212.
Case, VI. 212—in printing, ib.—in
grammar, ib.; X. 642, 683.
Case-shot, VI. 212; XL 71, 75.
Caseic acid, VI. 427.
Casein, VI. 498.
Caserta-Nova, VI. 212 ; XV. 709.
Cash-book, IV. 778.
Cashan, Persian city, VI. 212.
Cashel, in Tipperary, VI. 212; XXL
316—rock of, 313, 315.
Cashew-nut, black dye-stuff, VIII. 328.
Cashgar, III. 699.
Cashier, VI. 212.
Cashmere, VI. 212—goat, XL 382 ;
XIV. 163—shawls, ib.; XX. 192;
XXI. 256—spinning of Cashmere yarn
in Glasgow, X. 557.
Cashy, in Hindustan, VI. 214.
Casiquiari, XVI. 537.
Casiri (Michael), VI. 214.
CAS
Casks, VI. 214—fabrication of, VII.
305; by machinery at Deptford, VIII.
81—gauging of, XIV. 577.
Caslon (William), VI. 215.
Casmarhynchus, bird, XVI. 570.
Casnonia, insects, IX. 116.
Casoria, Italian town, VI. 215.
Caspe, Spanish city, VI. 215.
Casper (Dr), on statistics of mortality,
&c., XV. 536, 547.
Caspian Gates, XVII. 242.
  Sea, VI. 215 ; X. 397 ; XVII.
521—canals uniting it with the Bal¬
tic, IV. 331—its level lower than that
of the ocean, 402—Russian trade on
the, XVII. 246.
Casque, VI. 214.
Cassada, V. 67, 68.
Cassana (Nicolo), painter, VI. 217.
Cassander, VI. 217 ; XIII. 642.
Cassandra, VI. 217.
Cassano, Italian city, VI. 217.
Cassation (Court of), X. 218.
Cassava, V. 68—Mexican, XIV. 800.
Cassegrain (Monsieur), on the speaking-
trumpet, XXL 391, 397.
Cassel, VI. 217 ; XI. 287.
Cassicus, bird, XVI. 582.
Cassida, insects, IX. 182.
Cassidariae, insects, IX. 182.
Cassimir, or Cashmere. See Cashmere.
Cassine, Italian town, VI. 218.
Cassini (John Dominic), VI. 218 his
astronomical discoveries, I. 498 ; III.
743, 762; I\. 31—on the planets
Venus and Mars, 27, 28—his baro¬
meter, 391—his micrometer, XV. 23.
(James), VI. 218—his astrono¬
mical labours, III. 745—on the length
of the degree, IX. 548.
   de Thury (C. F.), VI. 219.
Cassiodorus (M. A.), VI. 219 ; X. 619.
Cassiopeia, VI. 220.
Cassis, ancient helmet, VI. 220.
 , in conchology, XV. 347.
Cassiterides, V. 297.
Cassius (Caius), one of Caesar’s murder¬
ers, VI. 220 ; XIX. 396, 398.
 (Longinus and Spurius),VI.220,
 , a Roman surgeon, XX. 823.
Cassivelaunus, V. 298.
Cassock, VI. 220.
Cassoon, in architecture, III. 465.
Cassowary, or Cassuary, XVI. 616 ;
XXL 716.
Cassumbazar, in Bengal, VI. 220.
Cast, VI. 220. See Casting-.
Cast-iron, VI. 404.
Castalio (Sebastian), VI. 220; XIII.
271—his Latin and French Bibles,
IV. 615, 617.
Castalius Fons, VI. 220.
Castanets, VI. 220.
Castes, VI. 220—in India, V. 176; XI.
402—their effects there, VII. 395 
in ancient Egypt, VIII. 461, 465.
Castel (Lewis Bertrand), VI. 226.
 Branco, VI. 226.
 de Vide, VI. 226.
 , Sarrazin, VI. 226.
Castelbuono, Italian city, VI. 226.
Castell (Dr Edmund;, VI. 227—aided
in the publication of Walton’s Poly-
glott Bible, XXL 731.
Castellamonte, VI. 227.
Castellan, VI. 227.
Castellana, VI. 227.
Castellane, VI. 227.
Castellarius, VI. 227.
Castellatio, VI. 227.
Castellazzo, VI. 227.
Castelli (Bernard), VI. 227.
 (Valerio), VI. 227.
 on hydrodynamics, XII. 2.
 , governor of Peru, IV. 756
Castellon de la Plana, VI. 227
Castellorum Operatic, VI. 227.
Castelnaudary, VI. 227.
Castelveterano, VI. 227.
Castelvetro (Luigi), VI. 227.
Cash (Giambattista), VI. 227.
Castigation, VI. 229.
Castigatory for scolds, VI. 229.
34
INDEX,
CAS—CAT
CaStiglione (G. 13.), painter, VI. 229.
  I'ELLE Stivieke, VI. 229 —
battle of. III. 636.
Castiglioni (Balthazar), VI. 229.
Castile, Moorish kingdom of, XX. 494.
 (Old), VI. 229—(New), 230.
Castine, in Maine, XIV. 44.
Casting, VI. 230—history of the art of,
87, 88—of cannon, 84—in sand, IX.
791—with plaster of Paris, VI. 230 ;
XV. 311; XVII. 796.
Castle, VI. 233.
Castlebar, VI. 235; XIV. 339.
Castleblaney, Irish town, VI. 235.
Castle-Carey, a Roman station in Stir¬
lingshire, VI. 235.
Castlecomer, Irish town, VI. 235.
Castledermot, Irish town, VI. 235.
Castle-Douglas, Scotch town, VI. 235.
Castle-Island, Irish town, VI. 235.
Castle-Lyons, Irish town, VI. 235.
Castlereagh (Lord), his accession to
power, V. 522—charge against, con¬
cerning the barter of a Bengal writer-
ship, 526—his quarrel with Canning,
527 ; VI. 83—consequences of his
death, V. 558.
Castlerising, in Norfolk, VI. 235.
Castle-Rushen, VI. 235.
Castleton, in Derbyshire, VI. 226.
Castletown, in the Isle of Man, VI.
235 ; XIV. 209.
Castnia, insect, IX. 243.
Castor, in astronomy, VI. 235—in zo¬
ology, XIV. 137.
 and Pollux, VI. 235—meteor,
ib.; VIII. 623 ; XVII. 542.
Castration, VI. 236—of brutes, IX.
721—fishes, 725—horses, II. 319;
XXI. 629 —cattle, II. 326 —lambs,
333—crime of, XIV. 496.
Castres, in France, VI. 236.
Castries (Bay of), VI. 236.
Castro, VI. 236—Giovanni—Marim—
Nuovo—Reale—del Rio—de Urdiales
—Villari—Vireyna, ib.
Castruccio (Castracani), VI. 236.
Castrum Doloris, VI. 237.
Casu alty, VI. 237.
Casuarina of New Holland, IV. 209.
Casuarius, bird, XVI. 616 ; XXI. 716.
Casuist and Casuistry, VI. 237.
Casween, VI. 212.
Cat, XIV. 122—its power of resisting
starvation, III. 167—worshipped by
the Egyptians, 262—instance of rea¬
soning in a, XII. 298, note.
Cat-fish, XII. 202.
Cat’s-eye, a mineral, VI. 237 ; XV. 157
—specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Cat-gut, VI. 237.
Cat Island, VI. 237.
Cat-salt, VI. 237.
Catabamba, in Peru, VI. 237.
Catacatche, XVI. 639.
Catachresis, in rhetoric, VI. 237.
Catacombs, VI. 237—of churches, III.
260—Romans, VI. 238; XIX. 431.
Catadromus, VI. 238.
Catagogion, Ephesian festival, VI. 238.
Catagrapiia, VI. 238.
Catelepsy, XVII. 132.
Catalogues, VI. 238—of the fixed stars,
ib.; IV. 42, 95—bibliographical, 629
—oHibraries, XIII. 297, 313.
Catalonia, in Spain, VI. 239.
Catalpa syringtefolia, XVII. 789.
Catamarans, VI. 100.
Catamarca, in La Plata, XVIII. 8.
Catana, VI. 239.
Catanduanes, island, VI. 239.
Catania, VI. 239; XV. 701—desolated
by eruptions of vEtna, II. 204, 206—
earthquake at, XVII. 511.
Catanzaro, Italian city, VI. 240.
Cataphagus, insect, IX. 140.
Catapiiracta, VI. 240.
Cataphractus, VI. 240—fish, XII. 203.
Cataphrygians, sect, VI. 240.
Catapulta, VI. 240.
Catara, in Dalmatia, VI. 240.
Cataract, disease of the eye, in the do¬
mestic animals, XXI. 636.
CAT
Cataracts, VI. 240—principal ones,
XVII. 525. See Waterfall.
Catarrh, VI. 240 ; XVII. 476—in the
domestic animals, XXI. 630.
Catastasis, in poetry, VI. 240.
Catastomus, fish, XII. 198.
Catastrophe, VI. 240.
Catch, in music, VI. 240—catch-pole,
ib.—catch-word, ib.
Catchew, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Catcot (Mr), on the Deluge, VII. 700.
Catcott (Mr), on “ Rowley’s Poems,” VI.
335.
Cateau (Le), VI. 241—battle of, X. 87.
Catechesis and Catechetic, VI. 241.
Catechism and Catechist, VI. 241.
Catechu, yellow dye-stuff, VIII. 320—
its use in tanning, XXI. 77.
Catechumen, VI. 241.
Categorical, VI. 241.
Categories, VI. 241; XVII. 432—Aris¬
totle on, III. 510.
Catelan (Abbe de), IX. 637.
Catena (Paulus), VII. 276.
Catenarian curve, a defective form for
an arch. III. 384.
Catenary, properties of the, IX. 707.
Caterpillars, VI. 241; IX. 87 ; XVII.
721—mode of destroying, XII. 293,
294—remarkable instinct of, XII. 297
—in N. S. Wales, XXL 717.
Caterva, VI. 241.
Catesby, conspirator, V. 805.
  (Mr), on birds, XVI. 546—on
the turtle, XIX. 130—on the guana,
144—on serpents, XX. 151, 152.
Catharine (St), XIX. 642—knights of
St Catharine of Mount Sinai, VI. 241
—fraternity of St Catharine at Sienna,
' 242.
  de’ Medicis, Davila’s represen¬
tation of, VII. 636.
Cathartes, birds, XVI. 559.
Cathartics, VI. 242.
Cathartin, VI. 467.
Cathedra, VI. 242.
Cathedrals, VI. 242—Gothic, III. 421,
430, 454—architecture of, 387, 474—
erection of by free-masons, XIV. 283
—society of cathedral-cities, X. 597.
Catherine I. empress of Russia, VI.
242—reign of, XIX. 546.
 II. empress of Russia, VI. 243
— reign of, XIX. 549—science en¬
couraged by, II. 71.
 , consort of Henry the Eighth,
XVII. 93; VIII. 743-6.
 (St), order of, VI. 246.
Catherine-wheel window, III. 470.
Catherine’s (St), island, VI. 246.
Catheter, elastic, VII. 567.
Cathetus, VI. 246—in architecture,
ib.; III. 465.
Catholic, VI. 246—king, ib.—church,
ib. See Roman Catholic.
Catiline (Lucius Severus), VI. 247,
691; XIX. 395.
Catingas, V. 201.
Catkin, in botany, V. 40, 49.
Catmandoo, in Hindustan, VI. 247.
Cato the Censor, VI. 247—on draining,
VIII. 137.
 of Utica, VI. 248; XIX. 395, 398.
 (Dionysius), IV. 370, n. 1.
Cato-street conspiracy, V. 549.
Catoptrics, VI. 249 ; XVI. 378.
Catoptromancy, VI. 249.
Catoptrophorus, bird, XVI. 625.
Catoxantha, insect, IX. 139.
Catrine, in Ayrshire, VI. 249.
Catrou (Francis), VI. 249.
Cattaro, in Dalmatia, VI. 249.
Cattegat, IV. 324, et seq.; XII. 682.
Catti, German people, VI. 249.
Cattini, VI. 2.
Cattivellauni, VI. 249.
Cattle, breeding and management of, II.
321—fatting of, 326—mode of killing,
IX. 722—diseases of, XXI. 612.
  of America, II. 653 — Arabia,
III. 329 — Derbyshire, VII. 736—
Devonshire, 746 — Dumbartonshire,
VIII. 259—Dumfriesshire, 261—Dur-
CAT—CAV
ham, 290—England, 766—Germany,
X, 483—Sussex, XXI. 9.
Cattle-houses, II. 272.
Cattle-trade, II. 327—Irish, XII. 416.
Cattolica, Sicilian city, VI. 249.
Catullus (Caius Valerius), VI. 249—
poetry of, XVIII. 153.
Catz (James), VI. 249.
Cau, ruins at, VIII. 544.
Caubul. See Cabul.
Caucasian race of man, II. 709 ; XIV.
200 ; XVII. 554, 697—its sub-divi¬
sions, II. 709—languages, XIII. 90.
Caucasus, VI. 250 ; XL 33; XVII. 242.
Cauchy (Mens.), on equations, IX. 325,
341—his theory of waves, XII. 6—
on optics, XVI. 373.
Caudebec, French cityq VI. 251.
Caueiristan, VI. 250.
Caulabagh, in Cabul, VI. 251.
Cauliculus, in architecture, III. 465.
 , in botany, V. 51.
Cauliflower, VI. 251—culture of, XL
667.
Caulking of ships, VI. 251; XX. 288.
Caune (La), French town, VI. 251.
Cauquenes, hot springs of, VI. 524.
Caursines, VI. 251.
Cans (Salomon de), description of his
steam-apparatus, XX. 614.
Causality, faculty of, XVII. 464.
Causans (Chevalier de), on the quadra¬
ture of the circle, XX. 554.
Causation, XVII. 434, 436, 440—Male-
branche on, I. 78—Hume’s theory of,
211—Aristotle on, III. 498—Dr T.
Brown on, V. 602.
Cause, VI. 251—philosophical causes,
XVII. 436.
 and effect, notion of, XIV. 633—
Kant on, XII. 677. .
Causeway, VI. 252.
Caussade, French city, VI. 252.
Caussin (Nicholas), VI. 252.
Caustic Curves, VI. 252; XVI. 400.
Causticity, VI. 252.
Caustics, VI. 252.
Cauterization, VI. 252.
Cautery, VI. 252.
Cautioner, VI. 252.
Cautiousness, XVII. 463.
Cavaillon, French city, VI. 252.
Cavalcade, VI. 252.
Cavaler-Maggiore, VI. 252.
Cavalier, VI. 252—English cavaliers
of the 17th century, V. 322.
Cavaliere (Cape), VI. 252.
Cavalieri (Bonaventure), VI. 252 ;
XIV. 317—his mathematical attain¬
ments and improvements, I. 436-9;
IX. 252—on the concentration of cold
by reflection, VII. 57.
Cavalla, XXI. 191.
Cavallo (Tiberius), VI. 252—his ex¬
periments in aeronautics, II. 181—on
electricity, VIIK 602, 605—on the
fusion of platinum by electricity, 627
—on the electrophorus, 644—his at¬
mospherical collector of electricity,
646—his self-charging electrical jar,
651—his electric multiplier, 653—his
electroscope, 654—on the magnetism
of brass, XIII. 7 08—his micrometer,
XV. 25.
Cavalry, VI. 255—Roman, III. 593—
modern, 596—French, 600—Austrian,
604—Russian, 607—Turkish, 614—
British, 620.
Cavan, in Ireland, VI. 255.
Cavanilles (Antonio Jose), VI. 257.
Cave, VI. 258—of Baumen, IV. 457—
artificial caves, III. 409—temperature
of, VI. 749-50—caves of Illyria, XII.
252—Indiana, 266—Kentucky, 697—
ossiferous, XV. 222.
— (Edward), VI. 258 ; XIII. 678.
 (Dr William), VI. 258—on mi-
racles in the fourth century, II. 602.
Cavello Porto, V. 765.
Cavendish (Thomas), VI. 259—his visit
to the Ladrone Islands, XVIII. 316.
 (Sir Charles), VII. 677.
(Lord C.), on capillary attrac-
CAV—CEL
tion, XII. 41—his self-registering
thermometer, XXI. 240.
Cavendish (Henry), VI. 260—levity of
hydrogen determined by, II. 181—on
the composition of the atmosphere,
IV. 134—on chromatics, VI. 634—on
the torpedo, VIII. 612—on electri¬
city, 572 ; and its chemical power, 629
—his discovery of the composition of
water, ib.; XXL 818—on the electri¬
cal shock, VIII. 639.
 (Lord John), V.'”421, et seq.
 (Margaret), VI. 260.
 (William), VI. 260.
 (Sir William), VI. 260.
Caversham, IV. 586.
Cavery, or Cauvery, river, VI. 265.
Caverypank, VI. 265.
Caveryporum, VI. 265.
Cavetto, in architecture. III. 442, 465.
Cavia, an animal, XIV. 140.
Caviano, Italian town, VI. 265.
Caviare, VI. 265.
Cavidos, V. 765.
Caviglia (Captain), on the pyramid of
Cheops, VIII. 547, 558—his discove¬
ries in Egypt, 558.
Cavite, in the Philippines, VI. 266.
Cavy, an animal, XIV. 141.
Cawnpore, in Hindustan, VI. 266.
Caxamarca, in Peru, VI. 266.
Caxamarquilla, in Peru, VI. 266.
Caxatamba, in Peru, VI. 266.
Caxton, (William), VI. 266; XVIII. 550
—works printed by, 551—his wretched
translations of the classics, IV. 626.
Cayagan Sooloo Isles, VI. 266.
Cayambe, XVI. 669.
Cayenne, VI. 267 ; XL 22.
 pepper, VI. 267.
Caylus (Count de), VI. 267—on en¬
caustic painting, VIII. 694.
Cayman Islands, XII. 505.
Caymito, river, XVI. 783.
Cayster, or Caystrus, VI. 268.
Cazic, or Cazique, VI. 268.
Ceangi, V. 80.
Cedes, Greek philosopher, VI. 268.
Ceblepyris, bird, XVI. 571.
Cebrio, insect, IX. 140.
Cebrionites, insects, IX. 140.
Cebus, in zoology, XIV. 94.
Cecidomyia, insects, IX 260.
Cecil (Wm.), VI. 268. See Burghley.
 (Rev. W.), his regulator of ma¬
chinery, XIV. 420—his explosive mix¬
ture engine, 43).
Cecilia (St.), VI. 269.
Cecropium, in Athens, IV. 123.
Cecrops, VI. 270 ; IV. 114, 142.
Cedar, XVII. 747, 781, 782, 785—cedars
of Lebanon, XXI. 60.
Cedar-wood, XXI. 296—sp.gr. of, XII. 28.
Cederstrtjm (Frederic), XXI. 26.
Cedreleae, in botany, V. 103.
Cedrenus (George), VI. 270.
Ceely (Robert), on cow-pox, XXL 536.
Cefalu, Italian city, VI. 270.
Ceiling, in architecture, VI. 270 ; III.
462—in ship-building, XX. 284.
Ceimelia, VI. 270.
Ceimeliarchium, VI. 270.
Ceimeliophylax, VI. 270.
Celarent, in logic, VI. 270.
Celastrus, VI. 270.
Celebes, VI. 270—the Bugis of, III.
693—language, of, XIII. 92.
Celebes, Roman soldiers, VI. 271.
Celerity, VI. 271. See Velocity.
Celery, VI. 271—culture of, XI. 675.
Celestine, in mineralogy, XV. 143.
Celestins, religious order, VI. 271.
Celestius, XX. 87.
Celestrinese, in botany, V. 105.
Celetes, or Celetoe, VI. 271.
Celeusma, VI. 271.
Celeustes, VI. 271.
Celibacy, VI. 271—few* inclined to,
XIV. 509—of Catholic clergy, XVIII
405—infamous in Sparta, XX. 528.
Celibate, VI. 271 ; XVIII. 405.
Celidographia, VI. 272.
Celindko, VI. 272.
INDEX
35
CEL—CEN
Ceil, VI. 272.
Cell a, VI. 272—a fountain in Aragon,
III. 373—in architecture, 4G5.
Cellars, VI. 272—cold of, VII. 58.
Cellarer, VI. 272.
Cellarium, VI. 272.
Cellarics (Christopher), VI. 273.
Cellbridge, or Kildrought, VI. 273.
Cellerfeld, in Hanover, VI. 273.
Cellini (Benvenuto), VI. 273.
Cellular plants, V. 37, 53.
—  tissue of the human body, II.
713 5 XVII. 581, 597—of brutes, III.
158—of plants, 57, 53—of leaves, 94.
Cellulares, in botany, V. 138.
Celonites, insects, IX. 230.
Celsius, centesimal thermometer of, I.
643; IV. 393.
Celsus (Aurelius Cornelius), VI. 273—
his anatomical knowledge, II. 688—
his skill in surgery, XX. 823—on the
qualities necessary in a surgeon, 832.
 , Epicurean philosopher, VI. 273.
Celt/E or Celts, VI. 273; II. 710; V.
293, et seq.; IX. 410; X. 620—Celtic
language, V. 295; IX. 42, 388 ; XIII.
86; XVII. 378, 414, 422—bards. 415
--Celtic origin of the Irish, XII. 349;
and Gallovidians, XXI. 882, 884.
Celtes, VI. 277.
Celtic Academy at Paris, II. 76.
Celtiberia, in Spain, VI. 277—people
of, XX. 490.
Cement, VI. 277 ; XIV. 289—Parker’s,
V. 678—plastering with, 680—decay
of, on walls , 681—Puzzulana terra,
XVIII. 744.
Cementation, VI. 278.
Cemetery, V. 746, 278—influence of
cemeteries on health, XIV. 512.
Ceneda, Italian city, VI. 278.
Cenegill, VI. 278.
Cenobite, or Coenobite, VII. 17.
Cenotaph, VI. 278.
Censer, VI. 279
Censio, VI. 279.
Censiths, VI. 279.
Censors (Roman), VI. 279; XIX. 374.
 of books, VI. 279 ; IV. 628—in
Russia, XIX. 584.
Censorinus, grammarian, VI. 279.
Censure, VI. 279.
Census, VI. 279.
Cent, VI. 280.
Centaur, VI. 280.
Centello, Italian town, VI. 280.
Centenarius, VI. 280.
Centenes, in zoology, XIV. 104.
Centenius Penula, defeat of, VI. 201.
Center. See Centre.
Centesima Usura, VI. 293.
Centesimation, VI. 293.
Centigrade thermometer, IV. 393.
Centiloquium, VI. 294.
Centuvre (Susanna), VI. 294.
Cento, VI. 294.
Centonarii, VI. 294. *
Centorbi, Sicilian town, VI. 294.
Central forces, VI. 294 ; VIII. 381.
Centrarchus, fish, XII. 169.
Centre, VI. 280; V. 684—that used
for the bridge of Orleans, XX. 759.
*  of Gravity, VI. 293; XIV.
349, 350, 372,442—of ships, XX. 238.
  OF MOTION, VI. 293.
  of oscillation, XIX. 497.
— of percussion, XIX. 495.
  of a sphere, VI. 293.
 (Canal du), X. 172 ; XVI. 5.
Centrifugal force, VI. 294—machine
for shewing, XIV. 454.
Centrina, fish, XII. 233.
Centrinus, insect, IX. 174.
Centripetal force, VI. 294—inverse
problem of, VIII. 384—measures of,
XVIII. 778.
Centris, insect, IX. 234.
Centriscus, fish, XII. 197.
Centrolophus, fish, XII. 187.
Centropomus, fish, XII. 168
Centropristis, fish, XII. 169.
Centropus, bird, XVI. 598.
Centrotus, insect, IX. 204.
CEN—CES
Centumviri, VI. 294.
Centurion, VI. 294 ; III. 591.
Century, VI. 294.
Ceorles, VI. 294.
Ceos, Greek island, VI. 294.
Cephalia, insect, IX. 285.
Cephalic, VI. 295.
Cephalonia, VI. 295; XII. 341—plague
in, XVII. 777.
Cephalopoda, mollusea, XV. 350—struc-
ture of, XVII. 718.
Cephaloptera, fish, XII. 236.
Cephalopterus, bird, XVI. 569.
Cephalotes, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Cephalus, angling for, III. 147,
Cephas, insect, IX. 218.
Cephrenes, pyramid of, VIII. 548,
Cephus, bird, XVI. 630,
Cepola, fish, XII. 189.
Ceram, island, VI. 295.
Cerambycini, insects, IX. 178.
Cerambyx, insect, IX. 179.
Cerami, Sicilian town, VI. 295.
Ceramicus, in ancient Athens, IV. 116,
125—Ceramic edifices, 116.
Ceramius, insect, IX. 231.
Ceramlaut Isles, VI. 295.
Cerastes, serpent, XX. 154—its power
of abstinence, II. 46.
Ceratina, insect, IX. 233.
Ceration, VI. 295.
Ceratophrys, reptile, XIX. 154.
Ceratophylleae, in botany, V. 108.
Ceratopogon, insect, IX. 259.
Ceraunus, VIII. 470.
Cerberus, VI. 295.
Cercaria, genus of animalcules, III. 190.
Cercele, in heraldry, VI. 295.
Cercocebus, in zoology, XIV. 92.
Cercodeae,in botany, V. 110.
Cercopis, insect, IX. 204.
Cercopithecus, in zoology, XIV. 91.
Cercus, insect, IX. 148.
Cerdonians, heretics, VI. 295.
Cerealia, VI. 295.
Cerebellum, II. 807; XVII. 660, 673,
676, 689—its functions, XIV. 583;
XVII. 461, 470—of brutes, III. 30.
Cerebrum, II. 807. See Brain.
Ceremonial, VI. 295.
Ceremony, VI. 296.
Cereopsis, bird, XVI. 636.
Ceres, heathen goddess, VI. 296 ; VII.
332—priests of, 583—mysteries of,
VIII. 664 ; XV. 667.
 , one of the planets, IV. 29—its
discovery, III. 748.
Ceret, in France, VI. 296.
Ceria, insect, IX. 272.
Cerignola, Italian city, VI. 296.
Cerigo, VI. 296; XII. 341.
Cerine, in mineralogy, XV. 162.
Cerinthians, heretics, VI. 296.
Cerinthus, heresiarch, VI. 296.
Cerite, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Cerithiadoe, mollusca, XV. 364.
Cerithium, molluscum, Xv. 347.
Cerium, a metal, VI. 296, 400—salts of
oxides of, 448.
Cerium-ore, in mineralogy, XV. 162.
Cerne Abbas, in Dorset, VI. 296.
Cerneux-Pequinot, VI. 296.
Cerocoma, insects, IX. 168.
Cerones, VI. 2.
Coropales, insects, IX. 229.
Cerophytum, insect, IX. 140.
Cerreto, Italian city, VI. 296.
Certallum, insect, IX. 179.
Certhia, bird, XVI. 588.
Certiorari, in law, VI. 296.
Cerulin, VI. 488 ; VIII. 325.
Cervantes, XIX. 594—novels of, 350
—his Don Quixote, I. 96—dramas of,
XVIII. 163.
Cervera, Spanish towns, VI. 296.
Cervical vertebra, II. 760..
 muscles, II. 793.
Cervinara, in Italy, VI. 297.
Cervus, in zoology, XIV. 157.
 volans, VI. 296.
Cerylon, insect, IX. 176.
Ceryx, VI. 296.
Cesare, in logic, VI. 297.
CES—CHA
Cesarotti (Melchior), VI. 297—his
dissertation on Ossian, XVI. 658.
Cesena, Italian city, VI. 298.
Cessart (Monsieur de), V. 216.
Cessio bonorum, VI. 298.
Cess-pools, building of, V. 670.
Cestoidea, zoophytes, XXI. 996.
Cestracion, fish, XII. 233.
Cestui, VI. 298.
Cestus, VI. 298.
Cetacea, XIV. 168; II. 708-9—their
bones. III. 3—organs of smell, 21—
eyes, 22—ears, 25, et seq.—vocal or¬
gans, 28—nervous system, 30—teeth,
3 2—stomach,3 6—structure,X VII. 7 09.
Cetine, VI. 441, 442.
Cetonia, insects, IX. 161.
Cetoniides, insects, IX. 161.
Cetosia, insects, IX. 241.
Cette, French city, VI. 298.
Cetti (F.), on birds, XVI. 549.
Cetus, constellation, VI, 298.
Ceulen (Ludolph Van), II. 498 ; X. 429.
Ceuta, VI. 298; XV. 505; XVIII. 464.
Ceutorhynchus, insect, IX. 174.
Ceva, Italian city, VI. 298.
Cevadic acid, VI. 430.
Cevennes mountains, VI. 298; IX. 407.
Ceylanite, in mineralogy, XV. 155—
specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Ceylon, VI. 298—castes in, 221—cul¬
tivation of cinnamon in, 700—pearl-
divers of, VIII. 60—inland navigation
of, XVI. 4—serpents of, XX. 136—
weights and measures of, XXI. 852.
See Candy.
Ceyx, bird, XVI. 593.
Chabasie, specific gravity of, XII. 28—
optical phenomena of, XVI. 369.
Chabasite, in mineralogy, XV. 151.
Chablaxs, in Savoy, VI. 306.
Chachapoyas, in Peru, VI. 306.
Chactaw Indians, XV. 300.
Chadchod, VI. 306.
Chader, island, VI. 306.
Chaerephon, XX. 457.
Chasronea, in Boeotia, VI. 306—battle
of, XIII. 629.
Chmtodon, fish, XII. 178.
Chxetopterus, worm, XI. 221.
Chaff-cutter, II. 269.
Chaffery, VI. 306.
Chaffinch, XVI. 581.
Chagres, river, XVI. 782—town, 786.
Chailletiaeeae, in botany, V. 127.
Chain, VI. 306—use of chains in machi¬
nery, XIV. 446.
  of animals, IX. 92.
 of being, XV. 740.
 Island, VI. 306.
Chain-bridges. See Bridge.
Chain-cables, XX. 55.
Chain-pump, XII. 99—used as a water¬
wheel, XXI. 802.
Chair, VI. 306—Curule—Sedan, ib.
Chaise, VI. 306.
Chajotli, or Chayoti, VI. 306.
Chalawar, in Hindustan, VI. 306.-
Chalaza, VI. 307—in botany, V. 46, 50.
Chalcedon, VI. 307.
Chalcedony, V. 786; XV. 157; XII. 28.
Chalceus, fish, XII. 212.
Chalcides, reptiles, XIX. 150.
Chalcidise, insects, IX. 226.
Chalcidic, VI. 307.
Chalcidius, philosopher, VI. 307.
Chalcis, insect, IX. 226.
Chaleo, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Chalcondylas (Demetrius), VI. 307.
Chaleos, coin, XIV. 470.
Chaldjea, IV. 270; VI. 307.
Chaldseans, IV. 270—their astronomy,
III. 722-day,VII. 643—dial,756—my¬
thology, XV. 679—philosophy, XVII.
426—polytheism, XVIII. 332—sculp¬
ture, XX. 1—origin of their name,
XVII. 358. See Babylonia.
Chaldee alphabet, II. 548—versions of
the Bible, IV. 615 ; XIX. 789—Para¬
phrase, VI. 307—language, XIII. 83;
XVII. 360, 373—Targum, XXI. 80.
Chaldron, VI. 307.
Chalice, VI. 307.
CHA
Chalk, VI. 307—black and red, ib. 
stones, 308—specific gravity of, XII.
28—rocks of, XV. 208—much of it
the produce of animalcules,XXI. 1021.
Challenge, VI. 308.
Challis (Mr), on hydrodynamics, XII. 8—
on light, XVI. 373—on the theory of
sounds, XX. 484.
Chalmers (Alex.), VI. 309, n. 3.
 (George), VI. 308, 94 —on the
agriculture of Scotland, II. 254—on
the corn raised and consumed in the
United Kingdom, VII. 354.
 (James), VI. 301.
 (Dr Thos.) on the wonders dis¬
closed by the microscope, III. 184—
on pauperism, X. 546.
Chalo, river in Asia, VI. 311.
Chaloner (Sir Thomas), VI. 311.
 (Sir Thos.), the younger, VI. 312.
 (Thos.), his alum-works, II. 573.
Chalonne, French city, VI. 311.
Chalons, VI. 312—battle of, XIX. 422.
Chaloo, in Thibet, VI. 312.
Chalus, French city, VI. 312.
ChalybiBus, bird, XVI. 568.
Chalybeate. VI. 312—springs, XVII.
527 ; in Clare, VI. 725.
Cham of Tartary, VI. 312.
Chama, in conchology, XV. 342.
Chamade, in war, VI. 312.
Chamaelauciese, in botany, V. 109.
Chamaeleo, XIX. 148. See Chameleon.
Chamselionidse, XIX. 148.
Chamanim, VI. 312.
Chamarin, VI. 312.
Chamavi, VII. 275.
Chambah, in Hindustan, VI. 312
Chamber, VI. 312.
 (Privy), VI. 312.
Chamberlain, VI. 313.
Chamberlayne (Edward), VI. 313.
 (John), VI. 313.
Chambers (David), VI. 313.
 (Ephraim) VI. 313.
  (Sir Wm.) on Greek and Roman
architecture, III. 422, 430—on the
principles of Vitruvius,425—his merits
as an architect, 429—on Chinese gar¬
dening, VI. 585.
Chambersburgh, a town in Pennsylvania,
XVII. 224.
Chambery, in Italy, VI. 313.
Chambord, French town, VI. 314.
Chameleon, XIX. 148 — its vertebra,
III. 13—erectile arrangement in its
tongue, 27—its structure, XVII. 714.
Chamfer, in architecture, III. 465.
Chamier (Daniel), VI. 314.
Chamois, XIV. 163.
Chamomile, its culture in Derbyshire,
VII. 736—used as a dye-stuff, VIII.
321—an antiseptic, XVIII. 743.
Chamond, French city, VI. 314.
Chamos, or Chemosh, VI. 314.
Chamouni, in Savoy, VI. 314.
Champagne, French town, V. 314.
 wine, XIV. 255; XXI. 901-
briskness of, 900. See the article
Wine-making, passim.
Champagney, VI. 314.
Champagnole, French town, VI. 314.
Champagny’s Archipelago, VI. 314.
Champain, in heraldry, VI. 315.
Champaubert, battle of, X. 167.
Champerty, in law, VI. 315.
Champion, VI. 315.
Champlain canal, XVI. 24.
 , lake, XXI. 603—military ope¬
rations on it, in 1813, V. 538.
Champlitte, French city, VI. 315.
Champniers, French village, VI. 315.
Champollion (Mons.), on Egyptian ar¬
chitecture, III. 409, 410—his system
of hieroglyphics, VIII. 216; XI. 341
•—Egyptian temples, &c. visited by,
VIII. 534, et seq.
Chamusca, in Portugal, VI. 315.
Chanak Kalesi, VI. 315.
Chananjei, VI. 315.
Chancay, in Peru, VI. 315.
Chance, VI. 315—doctrine of, XIV.
322 ; XVIII. 591. See Probability.
36
INDEX,
CHA
Chance-Medley, in law, VI. 315.
Chancel, VI. 316.
Chancellor, VI. 316—of Oxford, XXI.
496—of St Andrews, 510—of Glas¬
gow, 513.
 (J.), his scapement, VI. 776.
Chancery, VI. 316—inns of, XII. 282.
Chandah, in Hindustan, VI. 317.
Chandahnee, in Hindustan, VI. 317.
Chandernagore, VI. 317.
Chandchebry, in Hindustan, VI. 317.
Chandler (Mary), VI. 317.
 (Dr Samoel), VI. 317.
Chandos (Sir John), VI. 611.
Chandpoor, in Hindustan, VI. 318.
Chandragiri, VI. 318.
Chandragdpti, VI. 318.
Chandree, VI. 318.
Chang, in Thibet, VI. 318.
Changlee, VI. 318.
Chang-tong, in China, VI. 318.
Channa, fish, VI. 318.
Channel-fisheries, IX. 594.
Channing (Dr), on Milton,. XV. 105,
Chansi, in China, VI. 318.
Chant, VI. 318.
Chanter, VI. 319.
Chantilly, French town, VI. 319.
Chantrey, his sculpture, XX. 10.
Chantry, or Chauntry, VI. 319.
Chaology, VI. 319.
Chaos, VI. 319.
Chao-tcheou-fou, VI. 319.
Chapala, lake, XIV. 798.
Chapeau,in heraldry, VI. 319 ; XI. 257.
Chapel, VI. 319—Knights of the, ib.
Chapel-en-le-Frith, VI. 320.
Chapel-Hill, VI. 320.
Chapelain (John), VI. 320.
Chapelle (C. E. L.), VI. 320,- I. 108.
Chaperon, VI. 320.
Chapingo, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Chaplain, VI. 320.
Chaplet, VI. 320.
Chapman (Geo.), poet, VI. 320.
 (Mp), on dry rot, VIII. 227, 231,
232—on the strength of ropes, XIX.
459—his rope-machine, 464, 467—on
the sails of ships, XX. 251—on naval
architecture, 266.
Chappe, in heraldry, VI. 320.
Chappe’s telegraph, XXI. 138.
Chappel (William), VI. 320.
Chaptal (J. A. C.), VI. 320—his pro¬
cess for making alum, II. 571, 577—
his mode of whitening paper, IV. 692
—on the French cotton-manufacture,
VII. 417, not*—his connexion with
Xaplace, XIII. 101.
Chapter, VI. 321.
Char, XII. 208—angling for, III. 144.
Characinus, fish, XII. 212.
Characters, VI. 321—Chinese, 563.
See Alphabet.
Character, in poetry, VI. 324—^difficulty
of estimating national, IV. 162.
Charade, VI. 324.
Charadrius, bird, XVI. 617.
Charaims, sect of Jews, VI. 325.
Charak, VI. 325.
Charamakotan, VI. 325.
Charcoal, VI. 325, 368—electricity de¬
veloped in the combustion of, VIII.
605—its use in filters, IX. 581—its
power of sweetening tainted meat,
734—for laboratories, X. 276—for
gunpowder, XI. 78—fused by galvan¬
ism, XXI. 677. See Carbon.
Chard, in Somersetshire, VI. 325.
Chardel (Mons.), on stomach-diseases,
XVII. 479, 482, 483.
Chardin (Sir John), traveller, VI. 325.
Charente, VI. 325—Lower, 326.
Chares, ancient statuary, VI. 326.
Charge, VI. 326—in heraldry, ib.; XI.
247, 252.
Charged, VI. 326.
Charger, XI. 592.
Charicles, XX. 465.
Cbaring-Cross, London, XIII. 544.
Chariots, VI. 326—ancient, III. 261.
Charisia, ancient festival, VI, 327.
Cbarisius, VI. 327.
CHA
Charistia, Roman festival, VI. 327.
Charisticary, VI. 327.
Charitable Corporation, V. 378.
—:  Institutions in England, VIII.
789. See London, Dublin, &c.
Charite (La), French city, VI. 327.
Charity, VI. 327 ; XVII. 335, n. See
Alms-giving, Mendicity.
 (Brothers and Sisters of), VI. 329.
Charkow, in Russia, VI. 329.
Charlatan, VI. 329.
Charlemagne,VI. 329 ; XL 481—reign
of, X. 7—academy founded by, II. 67
—dates of his 'coronation and death,
VI. 655—his proceedings in Germany,
X. 479—on image-worship, XII. 241
—Lombardy conquered by, 467—his
encouragement of learning, XIII. 292,
n.; XXI. 483; and of art, XVI. 707
—romances concerning, XIX. 331—
his invasion of Spain, XX. 495.
Charlemont (Earl of), XII. 383.
Charleroi, VI. 329.
Charles Martel, VI. 329 ; X. 6.
 le Gros, VI. 329.
 the Simple, X. 11.
 the Fair, X. 15.
 the Prudent, X. 20.
 I. of England, his matrimonial
visit to Spain, V. 308—history of his
reign, 310—execution of, 333—influ¬
ence of the civil war of 1640 on the
intellectual character of the nation,
I. 48—archery in his reign. III. 399,
401—fond of chess, VI. 519—his visits
to Edinburgh, VIII. 413—his policy
towards Ireland, XII. 367—his navy,
XVI. 41; XX. 224 —a patron of Shak-
speare, XX. 172 — an accomplished
prince, ib.,‘ n.—his encouragement of
the theatre, XXL 192.
 I. of Spain (V. of Germany), his
reign, XX. 501—his abdication and
character, 502. See Charles V.
 II. of England, XIII. 546 ; XI.
768—his expedition to Scotland, V.
334—coronation there, 335—invasion
of England, and defeat at Worcester,
336—escape to France, ib.—reign of,
341—his death and character, 354
—Robert Barclay’s dedication to, IV.
377—his treatment of Colonel Blood,
711—his regulations as to the coin¬
age, VII. 34—improvements in coin¬
ing-machinery in his reign, 36—act
prohibiting exportation of corn, 336
—licentiousness of the stage, VIII.
171, 172 ; XXI. 193—Edinburgh in
the reign of, VIII. 414—duelling, 253
—his policy towards Ireland, XII. 373
—his navy, XVI. 42 ; XX. 225.
 II. of Spain, XX. 503.
 III. of Spain, XX. 504.
 IV. of Spain, XX. 504.
  V., emperor of Germany, VI.
330—his expedition against Algiers,
II. 505—dominions of, IV. 219—his
policy towards the Netherlands, XI.
510—his wars in Italy, XII. 476—
Robertson’s History of, XIX. 301—
his Spanish reign, XX. 501—his ab¬
dication and character, 502—Titian
patronized by, XXI. 318.
 V., king of France, X. 20—his lib¬
rary, IV. 775.
  VI. of France, X. 20.
 VII. of France, X. 23,
  VIII. of France, reign of, X. 28
—his army, HI. 596.
 IX. of France, X. 32.
 IX. of Sweden, XXL 16.
 X. of Sweden, XXI. 20.
  XI. of Sweden, XXI. 21.
 XII. of Sweden, VI. 330; VII.
723—his reign, XXI. 21—his army,
III. 597—his designs against George I.,
V. 376—fond of chess, VI. 519—his
wars with the Russians, XIX. 542.
 XIII. of Sweden, XXI. 28.
 Gustavus, king of Sweden, VII.
722.
 , Duke of Burgundy, his invasion
of Switzerland, XXI, 43.
CHA
Charles Edward Stuart, his expedition to
Scotland, V. 381—his visit to Dum¬
fries, VIII. 263 — Edinburgh taken
by, 415.
  (Monsieur) his hydrogen gas
balloons, II. 185, 187.
Charles’s Wain, VI. 330.
Charleston, in Carolina, VI. 331.
Charlestown, in the state of Massa¬
chusetts, VI. 331.
 , in Fife, quarrying at, IV. 677.
Charleton (Walter), VI. 331—his im¬
provements in anatomy, II. 699.
Charleville, French city, VI. 329.
Charlieu, French city, VI. 331.
Charliquen, VI. 331.
Charlotte (Princess), her marriage to
Prince Leopold, V. 542.
Charlottetown, XII. 591.
Charm, VI. 331.
Charmes, French town, VI. 331.
Charnel, or Charnel House, VI. 331.
Charnock on the history of marine ar¬
chitecture, XX. 210.
Charolles, in France, VI. 331.
Charon, VI. 331 ; XX. 785.
Charondas, VI. 331.
Charons, a Hindu sect, XI. 31.
Charpentier (Monsieur) quoted on cere¬
bral disease, XVII. 490.
 (Francis), VI. 331.
Charr. See Char.
Charron (Peter), VI. 331—relations
between him and Montaigne, I. 52, 53.
Charruas, II. 616.
Charts, VI. 331—recent improvements
of, XX. 58.
Charta, VI. 332—Magna, ib.
Charter, in law, VI. 332.
Charter-House, London, VI. 333 ; XIII.
523.
Charter-party, VI. 332.
Chartophylax, VI. 332.
Chartre, in France, VI. 333.
Chartres, in France, VI. 333.
Chartreuse, VI. 333; XIII. 523.
Chartulary, VI. 333.
Charybdis, VI. 333 ; XV. 701.
Chase, VI. 333 ; XX. 301, n. wild-goose
chase, 334. See Shooting.
Chase-guns, VI. 333.
Chase-mortise, in carpentry, V. 685.
Chasewater engine, XX. 631.
Chasidim, XVII. 358.
Chasing, or Enchasing, VIII. 698.
 , in naval warfare, XXI. 763.
Chasmodia, insects, IX. 157.
Chasse (General) his defence of the ci¬
tadel of Antwerp, IX. 779.
Chastelet (Madame du), notice of her
writings, I. 185-6—on the force of
moving bodies, 539.
Chastity, VI. 334 ; XX. 75—duty of,
XV. 474—defence of, XX. 82.
Chat-moss, Roscoe’s drainage of, II. 314.
Chateau-Chinon, in France, VI. 334.
Chateau-Gontier, VI. 334.
Chateau-du-Loire, VI. 334.
Ciiateau-Neuf, VI. 334.
Chateau-Ponsat, VI. 3341
Chateau-Renard, VI. 334..
Chateau-Roux, VI. 334.
Chateau-Salines, VI. 334.
Chateau-Thierry, VI. 334.
Chateaubriand, his account of the Dead
Sea, III. 704—of Jerusalem, XII. 544
—of Palestine, XVI. 740.
Chateaubriant, VI. 334.
Chateaudun, VI. 334.
Chateaulin, VI. 334.
Chatellerault, VI. 334.
Chatham, in Kent, VI. 334 ; XII. 696
—dockyard at, VIII. 82.
 , in New Brunswick, XVI. 148.
 Island, IV. 217.
   (W., earl of). See Pitt.
 (J., 2nd earl of), his conduct of
the Walcheren expedition, V. 528.
Chati, in zoology, XIV. 122.
Chatillon, VI. 335—des Dombes, ib.
Chatoessus, fish, XII. 215.
Chattelaine, his engravings, IX. 53.
I Chattels, VI. 335.
CHA—CHE
Chatterers, birds, XVI. 670.
Chatteris, VI. 335.
Chatterpoor, VI. 335 ; V. 70.4.
Chatterton (Tho.), VI. 335—Bryant’s
work on his “ Rowley’s Poems,” V.
619—poetry of, XVIII. 172—publi¬
cation of “ Rowley’s Poems,” XXI.
442-3.
Chaucer (Geoffrey), VI. 336 —com¬
pared with Barbour, IV. 371—ob¬
scenity of his Canterbury Tales, VI.
600—language of, IX. 40 ; understood
by the descendants of an English co¬
lony in Wexford, XXL 867—poetry
of, XVIII. 168.
Chaud Medley, in law, VI. 338.
Chaulieu, poetry of, XVIII. 166.
Chauliodes, insects, IX. 213.
Chauliodus, fish, XII. 200.
Chaumont, in France, VI. 338.
Chauna, bird, XVI. 627.
ChaunY, French city, VI. 339.
Chaussier (Mons.), on the layers of the
skin, II. 750—on medical jurispru¬
dence, XIV. 492.
Chauvelin (Monsieur), V. 467.
Chauvet, a blind organist, IV. 702.
Chauvin (Stephen), VI. 339.
Chaux de Fonds, VI. 339.
Chaves, Portuguese town, VI. 339.
Chaworth (Mr), killed in a duel by
Lord Byron in 1765, VIII. 254.
Chayanta, in Bolivia, VI. 339.
Chazelles (Jean Mathieu), VI. 339.
Chazinzarians, heretics, VI. 339.
Cheadle, or Cheodle, VI. 506.
Checky, in heraldry, VI. 339.
Cheduba, island, VI. 339'.-
Cheeks, VI 339.
 , in shipbuilding, XX. 285.
Cheek-bone, human, II. 777.
Cheesapany, VI. 339.
Cheese, VI. 340—Cambridgeshire, VI.
34—Stilton, XIII. 209—Parmesan,
175—cheese-trade in London, 507—
cheese-dairies, VII. 591.
Cheilinus, fish, XII. 195.
Cheilodactylns, fish, XII. 176.
Cheiromys, in zoology, XIV. 130.
Cheiroptera, in zoology, XIV. 98.
Cheke (Sir John), VI. 340.
Chekwall, in Lahore, VI- 340.
Chelidonias, VI. 340.
Chelidonius lapis, VI. 340.
Chelifer, genus of arachnides, III. 366.
Chelmer navigation, XVI. 11.
Chelmon, fish, XII. 178.
Chelmsford, town in Essex, VI. 340.
Chelonia, insects, IX. 248.
  , an order of reptiles, XIX. 127—
bones of, III. 13, ef —structure
of, XVII. 713.
Chelonus, insect, IX. 222.
Chelostoma, insects, IX. 233.
Chelsea, VI. 340; XIII. 541—botanic
garden of, XX. 897.
Cheltenham, a town in Gloucester¬
shire, VI. 340.
Chelys, reptile, XIX. 132.
Chemise, VI. 340—fire-chemise, ib.
Chemistry, VI. 341 — vague notions
and theories of the first experimenters
in, I. 453—its beneficial application to
pharmacy, 454—discoveries of Van
Helmont and Roger Bacon, ib.—che¬
mical composition of animal bodies,
II. 705; XVII. 618—Bayen’s mode of
analyzing minerals, IV. 465—use of
the blowpipe in, 713—Mr Cavendish’s
influence in promoting discovery in,
VI. 261—his experiments on factitious
air, ib.—crystallization, VII. 505—
application of electricity to, VIII. 572
—chemical changes produced by elec¬
tricity on inorganic bodies, 625; XXL
673, 678, 698—filtration in, IX. 582
—furnaces used in, X. 273—heat
from chemical action, XI. 195 —
influence of magnetism on chemical
action, XIII. 723—influence of che¬
mistry in improving medicine, XIV.
516, 523, 525—pathological chemistry,
518 — chemical effects of the solar
INDEX
37
CHE—CHE
spectrum, XVI. 421—vital affinity,
XVII. 137, 593, 595, 618, 652 —
Egyptian knowledge of, 430—chemi¬
cal functions of animals, 581,592, 618
— chemical constitution of organized
matter, 618—proximate animal prin¬
ciples, 619—effects of respiration, 646
—chemical power of the electric pile,
XXI. 673—chemical effects of voltaic
electricity, 678 ; and of thermo-elec¬
tricity, 698. See Cold, Heat, Electro¬
chemistry, Oxygen, &c.
Chemnitz, VI. 506.
  (Mabtin), VI. 506.
Chemosh, VI. 314.
Chemosis, disease of the eyes, VI. 506.
Chenalopex, bird, XVI. 636.
Cheniee (Marie Joseph de), VI. 506.
Chennium, insect, IX. 187.
Chenopodeas, in botany, V. 125.
Cheodle, or Cheadle, VI. 507.
Cheops, pyramid of, VIII. 547, 558.
Chepstow, in Monmouthshire, VI. 507
—scenery near, X. 341.
Chequers, origin of that sign, III. 308.
Cheb, in France, VI. 507.
Chekasco, Italian city, VI. 507.
Cherboukg, in France, VI. 507—break¬
water of, V. 215.
Cherem, VI. 507.
Cheribon, town in Java, VI. 507.
Cherilcs, Greek poet, VI. 507.
Cherokees, II. 619, 631; X. 470.
Cheronaja, in Boeotia, VI. 306—battle
of, XIII. 629.
Cherons, XI. 397.
Cherries, culture of, XI. 645, 659.
Cherry-trees, XVII. 788—gum of, VI.
478—sp. gr. of wood, XII. 28.
Cherry-coal, VI. 444.
Cherso, island, VI. 507.
Cherson, in Russia, VI. 508—coasts
and ports of, IV. 660.
Chersonesus, VI. 508.
 Taurica, VII. 471.
Cherub, VI. 508.
Cherubini on the fugue, XV. 639.
Chervil, XI. 675.
Chesapeake Bat, VI. 508; XIV. 271.
Cheselden (William), VI. 508 —his
anatomical labours, II. 701, 703.
Chesham, town in Bucks, VI. 508.
Cheshire, VI. 508—breed of pigs, II.
338—cheese, VII. 591—elevation of
the bed of the sea in, XV. 218—salt
mines in, XV. 248.
Chesne (Joseph du), VI. 347.
Chess, VI. 511—Kempelen’s automa¬
ton chess-player, III. 124.
Chest, VI. 519. See Thorax.
 (Water in the). See Hydrothorax.
Chester, VI. 519—^mysteries performed
there, VIII. 153-—Ellesmere canal,
XVI. 12.
  , in Nova Scotia, XVI. 286.
 , in Pennsylvania, VI. 520.
Chester-le-Street, VIII. 290.
Chesterfield, VI. 520—canal, XVI. 11.
 (Earl of). See Stanhope.
Chestnut-tree, culture of, XI. 650 —
sweet, XVII. 783—horse, 784, 787—
timber, XXI. 295—old tree at Tam-
worth, 588.
Chetore, VI. 591.
Cheuque of Chili, VI. 526.
Cheval-de-Frise, VI. 520; IX. 786.
Chevaler, VI. 520.
Chevalier, VI. 520.
— (Monsieur), on the plain of Trov,
XXI. 3«0.
Chevan, VI. 617.
Chevaux-de-frise, VI. 520 ; IX. 786.
Cheveron, in heraldry, XI. 249.
Cheviot hills, VI. 520—sheep, II. 329 ;
XIX. 512. ’
Chevreau (Urban), VI. 520—his Table-
talk, II. 675.
Chevreul (Monsieur), his analysis of fat,
II- 716; XVII. 597.
Chews, VII. 80.
Cheyletus, a genus of arachnides, III.
368.
Ciietne (Dr George), VI. 520—on the
CHI
connection between the stomach and
liver, XVII. 491.
Chiabrera (Gabriel), VI. 520—merits
cf his poetry, XVIII. 161.
Chiapa, in Mexico, VI. 520 ; XIV. 817.
Chiaramonte, Sicilian town, VI. 521.
Chiari (Joseph), VI. 520.
Chiaro-scuro, VI. 732; XVII. 286 
engraving, IX. 44, 45.
Chiastolite, in mineralogy, XV. 155.
Chiausi, VI. 521.
Chiavari, Italian city, VI. 521.
Chiavenna, Italian town, VI. 521.
Chica, in Peru, XVII. 305.
 Nayakana Hully, VI. 521.
Chicane, or Chicanery, VI. 521.
Chichacotta, in Hindustan, VI. 521.
Chichas, in Bolivia, VI. 521.
Chichemecas, XIV. 757.
Chichester, VI. 521—canal, XVI. 17.
Chichimeks, II. 622.
Chickara, in zoology, XIV. 162.
Chickasaw Indians, XV. 300.
Chicken-pox, XXI. 535.
Chicklana, Spanish town, VI. 521.
Chickoory, in Hindustan, VI. 521.
Chick-pea, hairs of, III. 69.
Chief, VI. 521—in heraldry, ib.; XL
247.
Chieftain, VI. 522.
Chieri, Italian city, VI. 522.
Chieti, Italian city, VI. 522.
Chigi (Fabio), VI. 522.
Chihuahua, district and town in Mexi¬
co, VI. 522 ; XIV. 817.
Chilblain, VI. 522.
Child (Sir Josiah),oninterest,XII. 324—
on political economy, XVIII. 264, 265.
Childbert, X. 4, et seq.
Childeric, X. 2.
Childermas-day, VI. 522.
Childers, race-horse, VII. 200.
Childhood, XIV. 493 ; XV. 456 ; XVII.
695—beauty of, IV. 491—pleasures
of, XVIII. 54.
Child-murder, XIV. 496.
Children, less able to want food than
adults, III. 167—exposing of, IX. 468
nursing of, XVI. 310.
 (Mr), his galvanic battery and
experiments, XXI. 666, 677.
Chili, VI. 522; II. 643—climate of,
610—ancient civilization of, 628—na¬
tives of, 629—their probable descent,
634—revolution in, 638—mines of,
XV. 264—earthquake in, XVII. 512-
weights and measures of, XXI. 852—
map of, Vol. VI. PI. CLVII-2.
Chiliad, VI. 545.
Chiliagon, in geometry, VI. 545.
Chilihueque, VI. 526.
Chilka, lake, VI. 545.
Chillambaram Pagoda, VI. 545.
Chillan, VI. 545.
Chillicothe, a town in Ohio, VI. 545 ;
XVI. 330.
Chillingham Castle, wild cattle at, II.
325, 331; XIV. 166.
Chillingworth (William), VI. 545.
Chillis, town in Syria, VI. 545.
Chilo, Greek sage, VI. 545.
Chiloe, VI. 522, 543.
Chilognatha, insects, XV. 652.
Chilopoda, insects, XV. 653.
Chilperic, X. 4.
Chiltern Hills, in Buckinghamshire,
VI. 546; V. 634; XVI. 686.
  Hundreds (Stewards of), VI.
546.
Chimajra, VI. 546—fish, XII. 230.
Chimerical figures, in heraldry, XI. 255.
Chimborazo, VI. 546 ; II. 608—Hum¬
boldt’s barometrical measurement of,
IV. 401—perpetual snow upon, V
145—attraction of, XV. 583.
Chimes of a clock, VI. 546, 141.
Chimneys, VI. 546; III. 462—unknown
to the Romans, III. 447—building of,
V. 670—of furnaces, X. 269, 270—
nature of draught in, XVIII. 126—
cure of smoky, XX. 419—of steam-
boilers, 683.
Chimney-pieces, building of, V. 676. I
CHI
Chimney-sweepers, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Chimpanzee, or orang-outang, XIV. 89,
194. See Orang-outang.
China, VI. 548—breed of swine, II. 338
—Peruvian civilization probably de¬
rived from, 626—government, ib.—
agriculture, 627—burials, ib.—human
sacrifices, ib.—architecture, ib.; III.
412—rafts, II. 627—early history,
685 ; VII. 697—conquered by the
Tartars, II. 688—visits of mission¬
aries to, 697—trade with Ava, IV.
244—large bells in, 547—trade in
birds’ nests, 646—Canton trade, VI.
101—trade with Cochin-China, VII.
12 — cotton-manufacture, 397—silk,
VIII. 300; XX. 351—silk-wrorms,
IX. 247—trade with India, XI. 392,
393; Japan, XII. 521; Java, 531,
533 ; London, XIII. 500 ; Sham, XX.
321 ; Singapore, 367 ; the Sooloo
Islands, 479 ; and Tunquin, XXI
408—midwifery, XV. 62—conquered
by the Moguls, 317—mythology, 676
—canals, XVI. 3, 30—paper, XVII.
9—porcelain, 429—earthquakes, 511
•—cultivation of rice, XIX. 234—
conquest of Chinese Tartary, XXI. 86
—tea, 130. See Chinese.
 ink, XV. 352.
 root, VI. 588.
 ware. See Porcelain.
Chinese, VI. 548—their method of cal¬
culation, II. 8, 9—accents, 85—alpha¬
bet, 543—manner of wrriting, 545—
compared with the Peruvians, 626—
the uniformity and unchangeableness
of their customs probably exagge¬
rated, 627, n. 8—their numerical fan¬
cies, III. 536—origin, 691—character,
693—commerce, 700, 701—astrono¬
my, 723—residents at Batavia, IV.
438—in Borneo, V. 11 ; VI. 576—
language, VI. 562; XIII. 72, 79 ;
XVII. 387—their customs and charac¬
ter, VL 585—their mode of preventing
the chipping of earthenware, 589—
chronology, 66 3—mathematical know¬
ledge, X. 428—early knowledge of the
compass, 527; XIII. 685 ; and of
gunpowder, XL 76 — grace before
meat, X. 636—written characters,
XI. 303—manufactures in ivory, XII.
491—knowledge of letters, XIII. 223
— literati, 379—pretended ancient
knowledge of logarithms, 420—re¬
semblance to the Egyptians, XVIL'
163—style of writing, and books, 391
—numerals, ib. ; III. 533—ancient
philosophy, XVIL 428—printing,
XVIII. 538—measures, XXI. 846,
852—weights, 848, 852—fondness for
the Trepang, 1002. See China.
 balance, IV. 306.
 mangle, XIV. 457.
 — Tartary, XXI. 86.
 varnish, how to make, XXI. 431.
Chinabalabaram, VI. 588.
Chinafatam, VI. 588.
Chinchilla, Spanish city, VI. 588.
 , an animal, XIV. 135, 141;
IV. 748; VI. 526.
Chinchoor, in Hindustan, VI. 588.
Chin-chow, V. 139.
Chingleput, in Hindustan, VI. 588.
Chiniropooram, VI. 589.
Chinnachin, VI. 589.
Cuinnor, VI. 589.
Chinon, in France, VI. 589.
Chinsura, in Bengal, VI. 589.
Chinuub, or Chinaub, river, VI. 589.
Chio, or Chios, VI. 589. See Scio.
Chione, VI. 589.
Chionis, bird, XVI. 628.
Chippenham, in Wiltshire, VI. 589.
Chippeway Indians, XV. 8.
 river, XVI. 255.
Chippewyan (Fort), climate of, II. 613.
Chipping of earthenware, VI. 589.
Chipping-Barnet, IV. 383.
Chipping-Norton, VI. 590.
Chipping-Ongar, VI. 590.
Chipping-Sodbury, VI. 590.
CHI—CHL
Chiquitos, in Bolivia, VI. 590.
Chirk, aqueduct at, III. 322.
Chirocentrus, fish, XII. 216.
Chirograph, VI. 590.
Chiromancy, VI. 590 ; VIII. 58.
Chiron, VI. 590—the presumed father
of surgery, XX. 820.
 , insect, IX. 154.
Chironectes. fish, XII. 195.
Chironemus, fish, XII. 169.
Chironomus, insect, IX. 259.
Chibonomy, VI. 591.
Chiroptera, bones of, III. 4, et seq. 
muscles, 18—structure, XVII. 703.
Chirosceles, insect, IX. 164.
Chirotes, reptiles, XIX. 150.
Chirotony, VI. 591.
Chiru, in zoology, XIV, 162.
Chirurgery, or Surgery. See Surgery.
Chirus, fish, XII. 194.
Chisel, VI. 59.
Chisholm (Major), III. 668.
Chisme, or Cisme, VI. 591.
Chitine, VII. 497 ; IX. 63.
Chitlong, in Hindustan, VI. 591.
Chiton, molluscum, XV. 340, 361.
Chitore, in Hindustan, VI. 591.
Chittagong, III. 626 ; IV. 247.
Chittah, in zoology, XIV. 121.
Chittapet, in Hindustan, VI. 591.
Chittim, VII. 576.
Chittledroog, VI. 591.
Chittor, in Hindustan, VI. 591.
Chitway, in Hindustan, VI. 592
Chiun, VI. 617; XIX. 117.
Chiusa, Italian town, VI. 592.
Chivalry, VI. 592—Court of, 617—
period of, HI. 596—how affected by
the Crusades, VII. 492—its influence
on poetry, XVIII. 156—romances of,
XIX. 325.
Chivasso, Italian city, VI. 617.
Chladni (Prof.), on musical sounds, II.
124—on meteorolites, XIV. 716—on
harmony, XV. 606.
Chlasnius, insect, IX. 128.
Chlamyphorus, in zoology, XIV. 143.
Chlamys, insect, IX. 183.
Chlenaceas, in botany,'V. 100.
Chloeia, VI. 617—worm, XL 219.
Chloephora, insects, IX. 250.
Chloranthese, in botany, V. 130.
Chloric acid, VI. 360—ether, 439.
Chloride of lime, VI. 397—its use in
bleaching, IV. 681-2—manufacture
of, 684.
Chlorides, VI. 454—of azote, 366—car¬
bon, 369—silicon, 374—sulphur, 375
selenium, 378—tellurium, 379—phos¬
phorus, 380—arsenic, 383—antimony,
385—chromium, 387—vanadium, 388
molybdenum, 389—tungsten, 390—
columbium, 391—titanium, 392 —
potassium, 393—lithium, 395—mag¬
nesium, 397—aluminum,' 398—gluci-
num, 399—yttrium, 400—cerium, ib.
zirconium, 401—thorium, 402—iron,
404—manganese, 407—nickel, 408—
zinc, 410—cadmium, VI. 411—lead,
412—tin, 413—copper, 415—bismuth,
417—mercury, 417 — silver, 419—
gold, 420—platinum, 421—palladium,
423—rhodium, 423—iridium, 424—
osmium, 425—cyanogen, 434.
Chloriodic acid, VI. 362.
Chlorine, VI. 359—its compounds with
carbon, &c. ; see Chlorides—discovery
of, IV. 679—used in bleaching, ib.;
I. 473; XXI. 818—its power of de¬
stroying noxious states of the atmos¬
phere, IV. 138—Sir H. Davy on,
VII. 640 — antiseptic properties of,
IX. 734—poisonous quality of, XIV.
503.
 acids, VI. 432.
 salts, VI. 454.
Chlorion, insect, IX. 229.
Chlorite, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Chloro-aurates, VI. 455.
Chloro-chromic acid, VI. 387.
Chloro-hydrargyrates, VI. 455.
Chloro-iridiates, VI. 455.
Chloro-osmiates, VI. 455.
38
INDEX.
CHL—CHR
Chloropal, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Chloropalladiates, VI. 455.
Chlorophane, phosphorescent quality of,
VIII. 635.
Chloroplatinates, VI. 455.
Chlorops, insect, IX. 291.
Chlororhodiates, VI. 455.
Chlorostannates, VI. 455.
Chnodomarius, VII. 275.
Chobab, Persian town, VI. 617.
Chocket, in architecture. III. 466.
Chocks of a ship, XX. 284, 290.
Choco, in Mexico, VI. 617.
Chocolate, VI. 617—electricity of
melted, VIII. 603.
Chocolate-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 343.
Choczim, siege of, XXI. 414.
Chodzesn, in Prussia, VI. 617.
Choeein^:, VI. 617.
Choik, VI. 617.
Choiseul (Due de), IV. 416.
  d’ Aillecourt on the Crusades,
VII. 487, 8.
Choisi (Francis Timoleon de), VI. 617.
Choisy, French village, VI. 618.
Choke-damp, VII. 611.
Choking of cattle, XXI. 622, 629.
Cholera, supposed atmospherical origin
of, XXI. 1018.
Choleric temperament of the human
body, XVII. 696; XXI. 173.
Cholesteric acid, VI. 430.
Cholesterine, VI. 443; XVII. 655.
Cholet, French city, VI. 618.
Choleva, insect, IX. 148.
Chondrodite, in mineralogy, XV. 158.
Chondropterygii, fishes, XII. 229.
Chookhdt, in Hindustan, VI. 618.
Chopart (Monsieur), on disease of the
kidneys, XVII. 479.
Chop-choech, VI. 618.
Chopin, or Chopine, VI. 618.
Chops of the mouth, II. 803.
Choragic monument of Lysicrates, III.
416, 436, 442, 473 ; IV. 119—of Thra-
syllus, III. 436.
Choeal, VI. 618.
Chorassan. See Khorassan.
Chohd, VI. 618-—in music, ib.; XV.
624; I. 612—in geometry, VI. 618;
X. 438.
Choeepiscopus, VI. 618.
Choeeds, VI. 618.
Choeiambus, VI. 618.
Chorion, in botany, III. 99 ; V. 47.
Choeley, in Lancashire, VI. 618.
Choeogeaphy, VI. 619.
Choroid coat of the eye, II. 798—in va¬
rious animals. III. 23.
Choromo, silver mines of, IV. 749.
Choron on theories of harmony, XV.
606—on musical invention, 642.
Choronemus, fish, XII. 186.
Chorotecs of Nicaragua, XVI. 202.
Chorus, in the Greek drama, VI. 619 ;
VIII. 144—prohibited, 150.
——, in music, VI. 619.
Chose, VI. 619.
Chosroes, Antioch destroyed by. III.
253—his invasion of the Roman em¬
pire, VII. 281 ; XVI. 754.
Choteesgue, in India, VI. 619.
Choul (Upper and Lower), VI. 619.
Choumchoo, XX. 319.
Choutea, in Hindustan, VI. 619.
Choweea, in Hindustan, VI. 619.
Chowpareh, in Hindustan, VI. 619.
Cheeneceuda, VI. 619.
Chrism, VI. 620—Pence, ib.
Christ, VI. 620. See Jesus.
• (Order of), VI. 620.
•Christ-Church Hospital, London, XIII.
514.
Christchurch, a market-town in
Hampshire, VI. 620.
Christ’s thorn, XVII. 787.
Christian era, VI. 655.
Christian VII. of Denmark, VII. 723.
Cheistiana, the capital of Norway, VI.
620 ; IV. 327.
Cheistianity, VI. 620—in Abyssinia,
II. 50, 51—capacity of the aboriginal
Americans for, 631—Loid Hailes’s
CHR—CHR
Inquiry into the Secondary Causes
assigned by Gibbon for its rapid pro¬
gress, VII. 603, 604—mimical to
theatres, VIII. 152 — abolished in
France, X. 84—re-established by Bo¬
naparte, 125—history of, XI. 487, et
seq.—compared with Mahommedan-
ism, XL 707 ; XIV. 39—its influence
on the arts, XVI. 706 ; and on poetry,
XVIII. 155-diffusion of, XIX. 110 ;
in Germany, X. 479—established by
Constantine, XIX. 416; by Theodo¬
sius, 419—its introduction into Bri¬
tain, V. 301; England, VIII. 701;
Scotland, XIX. 698, 703; and Spain,
XX. 492—established in Russia, XIX.
531—the Lord’s Supper, XX. 813.
See Jesus, Religion, Theology.
Christians, VI. 629—persecuted by
Nero, XIX. 403 ; Domitian, 406 ;
Trajan, 407 ; Adrian, 408 ; Aurelius,
409 ; Trajanus Decius, 411 ; and
Diocletian, 414—favoured by Con¬
stantine, 415—discountenanced by
Julian, 417—demonology of the early
Christians, III. 297.
Cheistiansamt, in Norway, VI. 630.
Cheistiansand, in Norway, VI. 630.
Christiansburg, VII. 728.
Cheistianstadt, VI. 630 ; IV. 327.
Christiansund, in Norway, VI. 630.
Christie (Mr), on magnetism, XIII. 694,
697, 715, 720, 741, 749—on solar
magnetism, XVI. 422.
Christiern, king of Denmark, his inva¬
sion of Sweden, XXI. 13—chosen king
of that country, 14—his tyrannical
reign, ib.
Christina, queen of Sweden, VI. 630-
reign of, XXL 20—her correspondence
with Bayle, IV. 466—her invitation to
Descartes, VI. 183.
Christison (Dr), on gas-burners, X. 357
—on poisons, XIV. 492.
Cheistmas-day, VI. 631.
Christophe, king of Hayti, VIII. 106.
Christophers (St), island, VI. 631.
Chromatic, VI. 632.
Chromatics, VI. 632 ; XVI. 403.
Chrome-ore, XV. 162.
Chromet of iron, VI. 406.
Chromic acid, VI. 386.
Chromis, fish, XII. 196.
Chromium, VI. 386—salts of the pro¬
toxide of, 453.
Chromule, III. 95.
Chronic, VI. 651.
Chronicle, VI. 651—chronicles of the
middle ages, VII. 495.
Chronology, VI. 652 ; XI. 469—ante¬
diluvian, III. 245—ancient Egyptian,
VIII. 461, 511—Hindu, XII. 588—
of the Septuagint, XX. 105—the Ar-
undelian Marbles, HI. 659—era of the
Creation, VII. 455—date of Christ’s
birth, XII. 557 ; and death, 560—Ka¬
lends, 669—utility of medals in, XIV.
463. See Calendar.
Chronological Table of political events,
and of inventions and discoveries, VI.
665-683.
Chronometers, VI. 683—French, IV.
596—finding of longitude by, XV. 789
—their use in seamanship, XX. 56—
remarks on those used for ascertain¬
ing the velocity of sound, 483.
Chrudim, in Bohemia, VI. 683.
Chrysalis, VI. 684 ; IX. 88.
Chrysanthemum, culture of, XI. 685.
Chryses, VI. 384.
Chrysides, insects, IX. 227.
Chrysippus, philosopher, VI. 684; 1.303.
Chrysis, insect, IX. 227.
Chrysobalaneaa, in botany, V. 107.
Chrysoberyl, in mineralogy, XV. 155.
Chrysochloris, in zoology, XIV. 103.
Chrysocoma, birds, XVI. 631.
Chrysogaster, insect, IX. 274.
Chrysolite, a mineral, VI. 684 ; XV.
158—specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Chrysoloras (Manuel), VI. 684.
 (John and Demetrius), VI. 684.
Chrysomela, insects, IX. 184.
CHR—CIC
Chrysomelina, insects, IX. 182.
Chrysophora, insects, IX. 157.
Chrysophris, fish, XII. 177.
Chrysoprase, a mineral, VI. 684 ; XV.
157; V. 786—sp. gr. of, XII. 28.
Chrysops, insect, IX. 265.
Chrysostom (St John), VI. 684,
Chrysotoxum, insect, IX. 272.
Chrysotus, insect, IX. 277.
Chub, angling for, III. 147.
Chubb (Thomas), VI. 685.
Chubb’s lock, XIII. 407.
Chubbar, VI. 617.
Chudleigh, VI. 685.
Chulmleigh, VI. 685.
Chumbul, river, VI. 685.
Chumpaneer, VI. 685.
Chumularee, mountain, XXI. 255.
Chunar, VI. 685.
Chunarghur, VI. 685.
Chunchos, XVII. 150.
Chupmessahites, VI. 686.
Chupparah, VI. 686.
Chuprah, VI. 686.
Chuquisaca, VI. 686.
Chuquito, or Titicaca, South American
lake, IV. 746. See Titicaca.
Church, VI. 686 ; XII. 262—spires,
III. 423—bells, IV. 546—burying in,
V. 746—consecration of, VII. 265—
heating of, XX. 742—no national
church in the United States, XXI.481.
 of England, VIII. 788—its test,
XVI. 760—its doctrines respecting
the Lord’s Supper, XX. 816. See
Episcopacy.
Church-wardens, VI. 687.
Churchill (Charles), VI. 689—poetry
of, XVIII. 173.
 (John), Duke of Marlborough,
IV. 687—his continental campaigns,
V. 368, etseq.—disgraced, 372—Mal¬
let’s promised Life of, XIV. 57.
  (Sarah), Duchess of Marlbo¬
rough, XI. 556.
Churchman (Mr), on the variation of
the needle, XIII. 731.
Churchyard, VI. 689.
 (Thomas), VI. 689.
Churoo, IV. 608.
Chuwal, in Hindustan, VI. 689.
Chyle, II. 713; XVII. 582, 630, 631—
vessels conveying the, II. 698, 817.
See Lacteals.
Chyliza, insect, IX. 286.
Chymification, XVII. 628.
Chymologi, VI. 690.
Chytla, VI. 690.
Chytri, Athenian festival, VI. 690.
Ciampi (Antonio), VIII. 609.
Cibber (Colley), VI. 690—on stage-de¬
clamation, VIII. 174—his Careless
Husband, 175.
 , sculptor, XX. 9.
Ciboria, VI. 690.
Ciborium, VI. 690.
Cibus Ferialis, VI. 690.
Cicacole, in Hindustan, VI. 690.
Cicada, insect, IX. 201.
Cicadari®, insects, IX. 200.
Cicer arietinum, its hairs, III. 69.
Cicero (Marcus Tullius), VI. 690—on
the universal law of right reason, I.
86—on Cato’s stoicism, 417—his ana¬
tomical knowledge, II. 688—on the
tomb of Archimedes, III. 405—on
beauty, IV. 484—Middleton’s plagiar¬
ism in his Life of, IV. 553—enmity of
Clodius to, VII. 1—compared with
Demosthenes, 710—his Dialogues,
VIII. 1, 2—on the Greek and Roman
laws, XIII. 181—his work De Repub-
Ucd, XVI. 214,767—recent discovery
of works of, 765—Catiline’s conspi¬
racy suppressed by, XIX. 395 ; VI.
247—his high estimate of physicians,
XX. 823.
   (Quintus), IX. 577.
Ciciano, Italian town, VI. 695.
Cicindela, insect, IX. 112.
Cicindeletse, insects, IX. 112.
Cicinnurus, bird, XVI. 588.
Cicisbeo, VI. 695 ; XII. 487.
CIC—CIR
Ciclut, or Cicluch, VI. 695.
Ciconia, birds, XVI. 619.
Cid, chronicle of the, XVIII. 161.
Cidaris, Jewish mitre, VI. 695.
Cidaritea, zoophytes, XXI. 1008.
Cider, VII. 574 ; XI. 649 ; XII. 28—
Devonshire, VII. 746—Herefordshire,
XL 273—Somersetshire, XX. 475.
Cigliano, Italian town, VI. 695.
Cigna on electricity, VIII. 571.
Cignani (Carlo), VI. 695.
Ciliary circle and processes of the eye,
II. 798 ; III. 23.
Cilicia, VI. 695.
Cilicium, VI. 696.
Ciliogrades, zoophytes, XXI. 1018.
Cimabue (Giovanni),VI. 696 ; XVI. 708.
Cimarosa (Domenico), VI. 696.
Cimbex, insect, IX. 217.
Cimbri, VI. 696 ; V. 295 ; X. 475—
their war with the Romans, XIX. 392
—Cimbric language, XIII. 87.
Cimena, Sicilian city, VI. 697.
Cimex, insect, IX. 197.
Cimicifugese, in botany, V. 95.
Cimmerii, VI. 697.
Cimolia Terra, VI. 697.
 Alba and Nigra, VI. 698.
Cirnolite, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Cimon, the Athenian, VI. 698—Athens
improved by, IV. 114—his exploits
and banishment, 152—his death, 153.
 the Cleonean, painter, XVI. 700.
Cinaloa, in Mexico, VI. 698.
Cinchona, or Peruvian bark, VI. 698;
VII. 199—alkali in, VI. 463.
Cinchonin, VI. 464—salts of, ib
Cincinnati, in Ohio, VI. 699.
Cincinnatus, VI. 699 ; XIX. 372.
Cinclus, bird, XVI. 573.
Cineas, a Thessalian, VI. 699.
Cineritious, VI. 699. See Brain.
Cingalese, VI. 303—language, XIII. 82.
Cinisi, Sicilian town, VI. 699.
Cinna, XIX. 393.
Cinnabar, a mineral, VI. 418 ; XV. 171
—specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Cinnamon, VI. 699—culture of, in Cey¬
lon, VI. 299—specific gravity of vola¬
tile oil of, XII. 28.
Cinnam&n-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 343.
Cinnamon-stone, XV. 159: XII. 28.
Cinnyris, bird, XVI. 589.
Cinque Ports, VI. 700.
Cinquecento style of architecture, III.
424, 425, 426, 452.
Cinquefoil, in architecture, III. 465.
Cintio, his romances, XIX. 349.
Cintra, VI. 700—convention of, V. 525.
Cinyra, VI. 701.
Cion, XL 635.
Ciona, mollusca, XV. 370.
Ciotot (La), French city, VI. 701.
Cipher, VI. 701.
Cipipa, V. 68.
Cipus, VI. 701.
Circsetus, bird, XVI. 563.
Circars (Northern), VI. 701.
Circassian women, VIII. 528.
Circe, VI. 703.
Circensian games, VI. 703, 706.
Circle, VI. 703 ; X. 438—attempts to
ascertain the ratio of the diameter to
the circumference, I. 583—its incom¬
mensurability first demonstrated by
Lambert, 584—problems respecting
the, X. 452—quadrature of, 455—
mensuration of, XIV. 568—perspec¬
tive of, XVII. 277—squaring the,
XX. 552—Meridian, IV. 104—Mural,
106—Azimuth and altitude, 109.
ClRCONCELLlONES, VI. 704.
Circuit, VI. 704—inconveniences of
circuit-courts, IX. 31—Scotch crimi¬
nal circuits, XIX. 761.
Circular, VI. 704—numbers, ib.—in¬
strument of reflection, XV. 784.
Circulation of the blood. See Blood.
Circumcelliones. See Circoncelliones.
Circumcision, VI. 704—practised in
Arabia, III. 336; and by the Mahom-
medans generally, XIV. 38.
Circumference, VI. 705,
CIR—CLA
Circumferentor, VI. 705.
Circumflex, VI. 705.
Circumgyration, VI. 705.
Circumlocution, VI. 705.
Circumpolar stars, VI. 705.
Circumpotatio, VI. 705.
Circumscribed, VI. 705.
ClRCUMVALLATION, VI. 705.
Circus, VI. 705—Maximus, XIX. 428—
games of the, VI. 703, 706.
■ .bird, XVI. 564.
Cirencester, VI. 706.
Cirie, Italian town, VI. 706.
Cirknitz, lake of, XVII. 023.
Cirrhatulus, worm, XI. 221.
Cirrhibarbus, fish, XII. 102.
Cirrhipides, Crustacea, VII. 503.
• , mollusca, XV. 340.
Cirrhites, fish, XII. 169.
Cirrus, cloud, XVII. 534—Cirro-cumu¬
lus, ib.—Cirro-stratus, ib.
Cis, insect, IX. 176.
Cisalpine, VI. 706.
Cisleu, Hebrew month, VI. 706.
Cispadana Gallia, VI. 706.
Cistela, insect, IX. 166.
Cistelides, insects, IX. 166.
Cistercians, VI. 706.
Cistern, VI. 706.
Cisternino, in Italy, VI. 706.
Cistineae, in botany, V. 98.
Cistrum, XX. 369.
Citadel, VI. 706.
ClTADINESCA, VI. 706.
Citeau, French village, VI. 706.
Cithjeron, in Boeotia, VI. 706.
Cituara, VI. 706.
Citharinus, fish, XII. 213.
Citizen, VI. 706.
Citric acid, VI. 428—used for discharg¬
ing colours, VIII. 340—scurvy cured
by,-XVI. 53.
Citron, XI. 659.
Citron-tree, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Citta di Gastello, VI. 706.
Citta Vecchia, XIV. 62.
Cittern, VI. 707.
City, VI. 707.
Ciudad de las Palmas, VI. 74.
Ciudad-Real, VI. 708.
Ciudad Rodrigo, VI. 708—storming
of, in 1812, V. 532.
Civet, VI. 708 ; XIV. 118.
Civil Engineer, academical rank of, at
Durham, XXI. 508. See Engineer.
Civil Law, VI. 708—study of it accele¬
rated human improvement at the re¬
vival of letters, I. 14—venerated by
Leibnitz, &e., 92—ought to be the
ground-work of speculations on juris¬
prudence, 93—know ledge of it useful
as a branch of education, III. 265—
Cujas on the, VII. 530—study of, at
Bologna, XXI. 468.
Civil State, VI. 719.
Civil Year, VI. 719.
Civilian, VI. 719.
Civilization, capacity of the aboijginal
Americans for, II. 631—flourishes
most in temperate regions, 622—its
effect on poetry, XVIII. 145.
Civita Castellana, VI. 719.
■ di Penna, VI. 719.
    Vecchia, VI. 719 ; XVII. 3.
Civoli (Lewis), painter, VI. 719.
Civray, in France, VI. 719.
Clackmannan, VI. 719.
Clackmannanshire, VI. 719.
Claddagh, X. 304.
Cladius, insect, IX. 217.
Claget (William), VI. 722.
Clair (St), lake, XXI. 455.
Clairaut (Alexis-Claude), VI. 722 
on universal gravitation, I. 577, 664-5
— on the retardation of Halley’s
comet, 578, 667—on capillary attrac¬
tion, 615 ; XII. 46—on the earth’s
figure, I. 661; IX. 551—his genius
and character, I. 667—on the Pro¬
blem of the Three Bodies, III. 749;
IV. 57—on the inequalities of the
moon’s motion, IV. 56—on mathe¬
matics, XIV. 322—on the spectrum,
/
IN]
CLA
XVI. 411—on the pendulum, XVII.
187, 199.
Clairfayt (General), IV. 221 ; X. 87.
Clamecy, in France, VI. 722.
Clamping, in joinery, VI. 723.
Clamps of decks of ships, XX. 284.
Clandestine, VI. 723.
Clangula, bird, XVI. 636.
Clans, VI. 723—spirit of clanship among
the Arabs, III. 332.
Clapham, in Surrey, VI. 723.
Clapperton (Hugh), VI. 723—his dis¬
coveries in Africa, II. 237—his ac¬
count of Houssa, XL 709.
Clare, in Ireland, VI. 724.
Claremont, grove at, X. 325.
Clarencieux, VI. 727.
Clarendon (Constitutions of), VI. 727;
VIII. 717.
 (Earl of). See Hyde.
Claret, XXL 899.
Clariac, French city, VI. 727.
Clarichord, VI. 727.
Clarification, VI. 727—of *ugar, XX.
795—of wine, XXI. 898.
Clarigatio, VI. 727.
Clarinet, XV. 614.
Clarion, VI. 728.
Clarisses, order of nuns, VI. 728.
Clarke (Dr Adam), his Bibliographical
Dictionary, IV. 630.
 (Dr), on the size and weight of
infants, II. 757, 758.
 (Dr E. D.), VI. 731—on the
blowpipe, IV. 716—his account of Je¬
rusalem, XII. 544, 548, 549 ; Pales¬
tine, XVI. 739, et seq.; and the plain
of Troy, XXI. 390.
 — (Ed.), his eiectripeter, XXI. 689
—his magneto-electric machine, 693.
(Mary Anne), her connection
with the late Duke of York, V. 526.
 (Dr Samuel), primus, VI. 728.
 (Samuel), VI. 728.
 (Dr Samuel), secundus, VI. 728
—his controversy with Leibnitz, 1.139,
142—on the existence of a God, 141,
422 ; XIV. 696—early development of
his reflective powers, I. 142—character
and genius of, 143,327—his controversy
with Collins, 144—on necessit}', 149
—versatility of his genius, 327—his
moral doctrines, 328—his erroneous
application of the term relation, 329
•—difference between his system and
Cudworth’s, 331—on the force of a
moving body, 539 —on the Greek
verb, X. 699—his sermons compared
with Horsley’s, XI. 628—on space,
XIV. 655—on infinity, 665—on the
being and attributes of God, 694.
 (William), VI. 731.
 (Mr), on women’s milk, XV. 74.
Clarkson (Thomas), his opposition to
the slave-trade, XX. 384.
Claro-obscuro, VI. 7 32; XVII. 286
—engraving, IX. 44, 45.
Claras (L.), his Latin Bible, IV. 615.
Clasmium, VI. 732.
Claspers of plants, III. 86.
Class, VI. 732—in natural history, XV.
739. See Classification.
Classic, VI. 732—different editions of
the classics, IV. 625.
Classical learning, X VIII. 451.
Classicum, VI. 732.
Classification, XVII. 433—in natural his¬
tory, XV. 738—Aristotle on, III. 510.
 of animals, III. 159, et seq., 169,
170; XVII. 549, 585—by Linnaeus,
III. 171 ; Virey, ib.; Lamarck, 172;
Dumeril, 177; Blainville, 177; Mac-
leay, 178 ; and Cuvier, 179—of animal¬
cules, insects, &c.; see Animalcules,
Entomology, Ichthyology, &c.
 of plants, V. 58, 70, 88—sexual
system, 88—natural system of Lin¬
naeus, 89—principles of the natural
system, V. 91.
 of vital functions, XVII. 589.
Clauberg (John), VI. 732.
Claude le Lorrain, VI. 732—specimen
of sketches by, VIII. PI. 200.
) E X.
CLA—CLE
Claude (Monsieur),his conference with
Bossuet, V. 24.
Claude (St), in France, VI. 733.
Claudia, VI. 733—Aqua—Via, ib.
Claudiancs, Latin poet, VI. 733.
Claudius Caesar, reign of, XIX. 402—his
resemblance to James I. of England,
V. 310, n.
Claudius (Marcus Aurelius), Roman
emperor, reign of, XIX. 412.
Clause, VI. 734.
Clausenburg, in Austria,VI. 734.
Clausthal, in Hanover, VI. 734.
Clavagella, in conchology, XV. 349.
Clavarium, VI. 732.
Clavatula, in conchology, XV. 347.
Clavelina, mollusca, XV. 368.
Clavering (Captain), on the fire of St
Elmo, VIII. 624.
Claves Insul.-e, VI. 733.
Clavi Vestium, VI. 733.
Clavichord, VI. 733.
Clavicle, II. 786 ; XVII. 617—in the
mammalia, III. 7—in birds, 12—in
reptiles, 15.
Clavicornes, insects, IX. 146.
Clavictherium, VI. 733.
Clavicymbalum, VI. 733.
Claviger, insect, IX. 187.
Clavipalpi, insects, IX. 185.
Clavis, VI. 733.
Clavius (Christopher), VI. 734—on the
calendar, VI. 10-on dialling, VII. 760
—on geometry, X. 429.
Clavus, VI. 734—Annalis, ib.
Clay, eaten by some American tribes,
II. 632—for bricks, V. 259.
Clay-slate, in geology, XV. 191—metals
found in, 278.
Clay-soils, rotation of crops on, II. 298
—improvement of barren, 315.
Clayton (Robert), D.D., VI. 734.
 (Rev. Mr), his discovery of coal-
gas, X. 348.
Oleander, XIX. 409.
Cleanliness conducive to health, XIV.
508—recommended, XV. 467—is the
best precaution that can be adopted
against vermin, XXI. 603.
Cleanthes, VI. 734—repartee of, I. 304.
Clear (Cape), VII. 330.
Clearchus of Heraclea, VI. 734.
Clearing-house in London, XVII. 28.
Cleats, VI. 734.
Cleavage, in mineralogy, XV. 125—elec¬
tricity produced by, VIII. 601.
Cleche, in heraldry, VI. 734.
Cledge, VI. 734.
Cledonism, VI. 734.
Cleeves, or Cleves, VII. 734.
Clef, in music, VI. 735.
Cleisthenes, VI. 764 ; IV. 149.
Cleithral, in architecture, III. 465.
Cleithros, in architecture, III. 465.
Cleland (Dr), on mortality in Glasgow,
X. 535; XV. 526.
Clemency, VI. 735.
Clemens Romanes, VI. 736.
   Alexandrinus, VI. 736 — on
hieroglyphics, XI. 297.
Clement (D.), on rare books, IV. 625.
 (Mens.), on steam, IX. 425—his
experiments on the heat of air, XII.
118—on latent heat, XX. 601.
 V. (Pope), VI. 736—his collec¬
tion of Constitutions, VI. 93.
  VII. (Pope), VI. 736.
 XIV. (Pope), VI. 736—Canova’s
monument to, VI. 96.
Clements’s Inn, London, XII. 282.
Clemente di Casauri, VI. 737.
Clementi (Muzio), VI. 737.
Clementine, VI. 737.
Clenard (Nicholas), VI. 737.
Cleobis and Biton, VI. 739.
Cleodora, mollusca, XV. 355.
Cleombrotus, VI. 739.
Cleomedes on optics, XVI. 348.
Cleomenes, kings of Sparta so named
VI. 737 ; IV. 149; VIII. 471; XX. 527
Cleomenio war, II. 208.
Cleon, VI. 738 ; IV. 157; XVI. 205.
Cleonus, insect, IX. 174.
39
CLE—CLI
Cleopatra, VI. 738 ; VIII. 475; XIX.
397, 399—her connection with Mark
Antony, III. 273 —manner of her
death doubtful, 703—queens of Egypt
of that name, VIII. 472, et seq.
Cleopatra’s Needles, II. 412.
Cleostratus, an ancient Greek astro¬
nomer, VI. 738—his improvement of
the calendar, VI. 7.
Clepsina, worm, XI. 226.
Clepsydra, VI. 738 ; VII. 524; XII.
57, 108—Amontons on the, II. 664.
Clepticus, fish, XII. 196.
Clerc (John le), VI. 738—his character
of Paracelsus, I. 18—his acquaintance
with and respect for Locke, 106—his
“ Parrhasiana,” II. 675—his French
New Testament, IV. 617—his edition
of Menander, V. 718.
 (Sebastian), VI. 738.
Clergy, VI. 739—of Austria, IV. 234 
South America, 753—Belgium, XVI.
133—Chili, VI. 537—Colombia, VII.
93—England, VIII. 788 ; XIII. 213;
in Edgar’s reign, VIII. 704—France,
X. 45, 201—Greece, 739—Iceland,
XII. 144—the Ionian Islands, 344-5
—Ireland, 398—Italy, 486—Jamaica, i
XII. 504—Mexico, XIV. 806—New
England, IV. 381 — Russia, XIX.
580—Scotland, IV. 287, n. 1, 288; V.
305, 335—Switzerland, XXI. 50 
Turkey, 423—burning of obnoxious
books by the, IV. 628—declamation
of the pulpit, VII. 663—imposition of
bands, XII. 255—unequal distribu¬
tion of wealth among the English
clergy, XIII. 213—utility of natural
philosophy to the, XVII. 574—fond-
ness of the early clergy for medicine,
XX. 827, w. 3—deprivation of benefices
for heresy, XXL 323.
 (Benefit of), VI. 739.
Clerii, insects, IX. 145.
Clerk, VI. 741—diseases to which
clerks are subject, XIV. 509.
 (John), his improvements in na¬
val tactics, XXI. 766.
 (John), M.D., VIII. 547.
Clerke (Capt. Charles), VI. 742 his
arctic discoveries, XVIII. 219.
Clerke’s Island, VI. 743.
Clermont, in France, VI. 743.
 Ferrand, VI. 743.
 de Lodeve, VI. 743.
   Manuscript, VI. 743.
Cleromancy, VI. 743.
Clerus, insect, IX. 145.
Clesides, Greek painter, VI. 743.
Cleveland (John), VI. 743.
 , a town in Ohio, XVI. 330.
 Bays, II. 317.
Cleves, or Cleeves, VI. 734.
Cliehtoveus on the rainbow, XVI. 353.
Clients, VI. 743 ; XIX. 377.
Clifford’s Inn, London, XII. 282.
Clifton, VI. 743 ; V. 292.
Climate, VI. 743; XI. 196, 371, 377;
XVII. 542—its effect on the active
energies of man, II. 622—its effect on
the human body, XVII. 598; strength,
XIV. 429 ; complexion, VII. 190-
XIV. 198, 202; health, 510; and7
mind, XVI. 696—its modifying influ¬
ence on animals, III. 160, 161, 169—
its effects on buds, III. 90 ; and trees,
XVII. 780—climate of America, IT.
610 ; of Arabia, III. 324 ; of Asia, 678
—in geography, X. 409. See Atmos¬
phere, Cold, Dew, Meteorology, and
the geographical articles generally.
Olimateric, VI. 743.
Climbers, birds, XVI. 594.
Climena, worm, XI. 223.
Olinanth, in botany, V. 40.
Clinch, VI. 764.
Clinching, VI. 764.
Ci.inias, an ancient Pythagorean philo¬
sopher, VI. 704.
Clinkstone, sp. gr. of, XII. 28.
Clinocera, insects, IX. 266.
Clinometer, XII. 743.
CUnus, fish, XII. 192.
40
INDEX,
CLI—CLY
Clio, one of the Muses, VI. 764 j XV.
603—statue of, VIII. PI. 194.
 , molluseum, XV. 355.
Clisthenes, VI. 764 ; IV. 149.
Clitellaria, insects, IX. 271.
Clithehoe, VI. 764.
Clitomachus, VI. 764.
Clitoris, II. 826—erectile tissue of, 726.
Clitomnus, river, VI. 764.
Clitus, VI. 765—insect, IX. 179.
Clive (Robert, Lord), VI. 765—General
Bourgoyne’s charges against, V. 397
—his exploits in India, XI. 413, etseq.
Clivina, insect, IX. 119.
Cloaca, VI. 765—Maxima, ib. XIX.
427 ; XX. 166—in comparative ana¬
tomy, III. 39, 40.
Cloacina, VI. 769.
Clock and watch wokk, VI. 765.
Clock, VI. 765 ; XI. 565—slow im¬
provement of the, III. 644—astrono¬
mical, IV. 104—alarm-clocks, VI. 782
—water-clock, VI. 738; VII. 524 ;
XII. 57, 108 ; II. 664—Wheatstone’s
electro-magnetic clock, XXI. 689. See
Chronometer, Pendulum.
Clodio, X. 2.
Clodius, his Hebrew Bible, IV. 614.
 (Publius), VII. 1; XIX. 396—
his enmity to Cicero, VI. 692.
Clodomer, king of Orleans, X. 4.
Cloebukv-Mortimee, VII. 1.
Clogher, VII. 1 ; XXI. 441.
Cloghnakilty, or Clonakilty, VII. 1.
Cloister, VII. 1.
Clones, Irish town, VII. 1.
Clonmel, VII. 1; XXI. 314, 316—
taken by Cromwell, XII. 371.
Cloquet (Monsieur), his System of Ana¬
tomy, II. 7 04, 828—on animal magnet¬
ism, XX. 477.
Clos (La), his romances, XIX. 354.
Close, in heraldry, VII. 2.
Close-hauled, VII. 2.
Clossius (Dr), his discovery of parts of
the Theodosian Code, VI. 715.
Closter Seven, capitulation of, V. 385.
Clot of the blood, II. 713; VI. 493, 494.
Clotaire, king of France, X. 4.
Cloth, VII. 2. See Cotton, Calender,
Dyeing, Silk, Weaving, Wool.
Clothing, luxury in, XIII. 603—its in¬
fluence on health, XIV. 507—orien¬
tal, VIII. 528—flannel, IX. 614.
Clotho, one of the Fates, VII. 2.
 , genus of arachnides, III. 359.
Clotilda, X. 3.
Cloud ^), French town, VII. 4.
Clouds, VII. 2; XVII. 534—forms of,
ib.—theory of, XIV. 747—height of,
748—their influence in obstructing
frigorific pulses in the air, VI. 762—
their electricity, VIII. 618—theory of
mountain-caps, XII. 133.
Clover, culture of, II. 257, 291 ; in
Flanders, XVI. 142.
Cloves, culture of, in Amboyna, II. 596 ;
and Bourbon, V. 151—specific gravity
of volatile oil of, XII. 28.
Clove-tree, II. 596.
Clovio (G. G.), painter, VII. 4.
Clovis I. king of France, VII. 4; X. 2.
Clowes (Wm.), surgeon, XX. 829.
Cloyne, VII. 4, 329.
Clubs in London, XIII. 534.
Club-foot, treatment of, XX. 845.
Cluny, French city, VII. 4.
Clupea, VI. 191, 192—fish, XII. 214.
Clupidse, in ichthyology, XII. 214.
Cluvier (Philip), VII. 4.
Clwyd, vale of, VII. 717.
Clyde, VII. 4; XIX. 747 ; XIII. 49-
diving-bell used in improving its na¬
vigation, VIII. 70—dredging of the,
193, 197—navigation of the, X. 548;
XVI. 11—canal to the Forth, 13;
X. 550 ; VIII. 258; XIX. 751.
Clydesdale. See Lanarkshire.
 horses, II. 317 ; XI. 597.
Clyers, XXI. 629.
Clypeaster, insect, IX. 186.
Clypeastres, zoophytes, XXI. 1008,
Clytemnestsa, VII. 4.
CLY—COC
Clythra, insect, IX. 183.
Coach, VII. 4 — hackney and stage
coaches, 6. See Carriage.
  (Mail), VII. 6—erroneous con¬
struction of, XIV. 381—establish¬
ment of mail coaches, XVIII. 488.
 , or couch, VII. 7.
Coach-horse, XI. 593.
Coachmaking, VII. 6.
Coagulation of albumen, XVII. 621—of
blood, VI. 33.
Coagulum of the blood, II. 713 ; VI. 493,
494.
Coak. See Coke.
Coal, XV. 172- VII. 70—methods of
searching for, 73—boring for, 75—
winning the, 76—working of, 78—
different methods of working, 83—
wood-coal of Antrim, III. 274—the
art of casting iron extended by the
use of, VI. 88—chemical composition
of different kinds of, 444—Kilkenny,
444 ; XII. 715—caking, VI. 444—
splint, ib.—cherry, ib.—cannel, ib.;
II. 665—for furnaces, X. 276—speci¬
fic gravity of, XII. 27 — mechanical
power derivable from, XIV. 438—its
importance to Britain, XV. 243—
consumption of it there, 244—pro¬
bable duration of supply of, ib.; XVI.
254—saving of, in iron-smelting by
hot-blast, XX. 408—steam-generating
power of, 602, 629—economy of, in
steam-boilers, 684—coal and coal¬
mines in Britain, XV. 243—Chili, VI.
532 — Clackmannanshire, 721—Cum¬
berland, VII. 537—Derbyshire, 735—
Devonshire, 746 — Dumbartonshire,
VIII. 258—Durham,289—Edinburgh¬
shire, 4 29—England, 767—Europe, IX.
409 ; XV. 250—France, X. 179—Gla¬
morganshire, 532—Hungary, IV. 230
—Ireland, XII. 393; XIII. 222—La¬
narkshire, 50—Lancashire, 52—Mon¬
mouthshire, XV. 418 — New South
Wales, XXI. 717, 718—Northumber¬
land, XVI. 254—Pennsylvania, XVII.
222—Roscommon, XIX. 478—Russia,
567—Scotland, 749 — Staffordshire,
XX. 558—Stirlingshire, 729—Suma¬
tra, 804—Tennessee, XXI. 182—Tip¬
perary, 313 —Tyrone, 439—United
States, 454—Virginia, 658—White¬
haven, 876 — Yorkshire, 965. See
Colliery, and the geographical articles
generally.
Coal-gas, VI. 372 ; X. 348, 350—com¬
pared with oil-gas, 361, 365—hints
for its improvement, 366—economy
of, 367.
Coal-measures, in geology, XV. 196.
Coal-mines. See Coal, Colliery.
Coal-trade, VII. 7—of England, VIII.
767—London, XIII. 497—Newcastle,
XVI. 151—Sunderland, XX. 810.
Coal-work. See Colliery.
Coal-fish, XII. 218.
Coalition ministry, V. 427—its fall,
434.
Coamings of ships, VII. 9 ; XX. 285.
Coast, VII. 9.
 Castle (Cape), VII. 9.
Coasting, VII. 9—pilot, ib.
Coat-of-arms, VII. 9—of mail, ib.
Coatis, in zoology, XIV. 107.
Coazzo, Italian town, VII. 9.
Cob, horse, XI. 591.
Cobadonga, Spanish town, VII. 9.
Cobsee®, in botany, V. 121.
Cobalt, VII. 9 ; VI. 409—salts of pro¬
toxide of, 449—specific gravity of,
XII. 28—magnetism of, XIII. 709.
Cobalt-mica, XV. 147.
Cobalt-pyrites, XV. 166.
Cobbing, VII. 10.
Cobham (Elinor), VIII. 734.
Cobija, IV. 751.
Cobitis, XII. 199—angling for, III. 148.
Coble, boat, VII. 10.
Coblentz, German city, VII. 10.
Coburg, VII. 10.
Coca plant, IV. 748; XVII. 304.
Cocceeii (Samuel de), his commentary
COC—CCEL
on Grotius’s work TJe Jure Belli et
Pads, I 92.
Cocceius (John), VII. 10.
Coccinella, insect, IX. 186.
Coccolite, VII. 10—sp. gr. of, XII. 28.
Coccothraustes, birds, XVI. 581.
Cocculus Indicus, VI. 466—used for
poisoning rats, XXI. 600.
Coccus, insect, IX. 206.
Coccyx, human, II. 759, 762—of the
lower animals, III. 3.
Coccyzus, bird, XVI. 598.
Cochabamba, in Bolivia, VII. 10.
Cochenelin, VI. 505 ; VIII. 308.
Cochin, in Hindustan, VII. 10.
Cochin China, VII. 11—map of, Vol.
XII. PI. CCCVII-2.
Cochineal, VII. 14—its introduction
as a dye-stuff, VIII. 297, 307—its na¬
ture and history, 307—its culture in
, Mexico, XIV. 801 ; and in Armenia,
XIX. 589.
Cochineal-insect, IX. 206.
Cochinealin, VI. 505 ; VIII. 308.
Cochlea of the ear, II. 802 ; III. 25.
Cochrane (Admiral), his proceedings
against the United States* V. 538.
 (Lord), burning of French ships
by, in 1809, V. 528—his proceedings
on the coast of Chili, VI. 543 ; and
in Peru, XVII. 298.
 (Capt. C. S.), merino yarn spin¬
ning introduced into Scotland by, X.
557.
  (Captain), his account of the
Kamtschadales, XII. 672-3.
Cock, VII. 14—domestic, XVI. 608—
Bankiva, 609—Jago, ib.—jungle, ib.—
Macartney, 610—divination by means
of cocks, II. 396.
 of a watch, VI. 786, 787.
Cock-fighting, VII. 14 ; XVI. 609, 610;
XVII. 112.
Cock-pit, VII. 14.
1 Cockatoo, bird, XVI. 603.
Cockburne (Mrs Catharine), VII. 15.
Cock-chafer, IX. 159—method of de¬
stroying it, XXI. 602.
Cock-dog, XX. 311.
COCKERMOUTH, VII. 16.
COCKET, VII. 10.
Cocking, in carpentry, V. 683.
Cockle, XV. 372.
Cockney, VII. 16.
Cockroach, IX. 190—method of de¬
stroying it, XXI. 602.
Cockswain, VII. 16.
Cocles (P. H.), VII. 16 ; XIX. 369.
Cocoa-nut tree, XI. 381—of Ceylon, VI.
30-0—small, of Chili, 527—of Java,
XII. 529—specific gravity of cocoa- -
wood, XII. 28.
Cocoon, silk, XX. 343.
Cocos, VII. 16.
Cocylus, VII. 16.
Cod, XII. 217—Salting of, IX. 733.
Cod-fishery, Scotch, IX. 600—foreign,
605—French, X. 196.
Codapahar, VII. 16.
Coddington (Mr), on the grooved lens,
XV. 32—his microscope eye-glass, 38.
Code, VII. 16—Solon’s, IV. 145—Aus¬
trian, 237—Bolivian, IV. 758—Vene¬
tian, of maritime law, VII. 493—civil
and penal, XII. 636—Roman codes,
VI. 713—French codes, X. 216—Code
Napoleon, 132; XIII. 184—penal
codes, XVIII. 735. See Diplomatics,
Law, Legislation.
Codeic acid, VI. 460.
Codex, VII. 16.
Codicil, VII. 17; VI. 709.
Codification, VII. 17 ; XIII. 180.
Codlin, apple, VII. 17.
Codling, VII. 17.
Codon, VII. 17.
Codrington (Christopher), VII. 17.
Codrus, VII. 17 ; IV. 143.
Coefficients, VII. 17.
Coehorn. See Cohorn.
Coele, in Athens, IV. 124.
Ccelestis, Phoenician goddess, XVII. 4S1.
Coelestius, XVIII. 515.
CCEL—COL
Coelioxys, insect, IX. 234.
Coelopa, insect, IX. 288.
C®LOSYRIA, VII. 17.
Ccelus, VII. 17.
Coemptiones, VII. 17.
Ccenobite, VII. 17.
CCENOBIUM, VII. 17.
Ccenomyia, insect, IX. 264.
Coenosia, insect, IX 284.
Ccesira, mollusca, XV. 368,
Coffee, VII. 17 ; XII. 500—of Arabia,
III. 337—Bourbon, V. 151—Brazil,
206-7—St Domingo, VIII. 107—Java.
XII. 529—Mexico, XIV. 801—Mocha,
XV. 310—coffee-tree* VII. 17.
Coffee-trade, VII. 18—effects of re¬
duction of duties on, XXI. 121.
Coffee-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 337.
Coffee-houses in London, XIII. 534.
Coffer, in architecture, VII. 18 ; III.
465—in fortification, VII. 18.
Coffer-dam, XIV. 297.
Coffin, VII. 19—coffins kept by the
Chinese in their houses, VI. 563.
 (J.), on ambergris, II. 594.
Cogger’s printing-press, XVIII. 570.
Coggeshall, in Essex, VII. 19.
Cogging, in carpentry, V. 683.
Cogilpatty, YM. 19.
Cognac, in France, VII. 19.
Cognate, in Scotch law, VII. 19.
Cognation, in civil law, VII. 19.
Cohabitation, VII. 19.
Couahuila, a province of Mexico, VII.
19; XIV. 819.
Co-heir, VII. 19; VII. 20.
Cohesion, VII. 20—ofmetals, XIV. 402;
XX. 756—force of, XVII. 566—of sur¬
faces, XVIII. 121—strength of mate¬
rials arises from, XX. 748—the doc¬
trine of. yet a new subject* 755—
great varieties in, 756—its force pro¬
portional to the area of the section
perpendicular to the extending force,
756—of woods, 756-7.
  of fluids, VII. 20 ; XH. 38-
Coulomb on, VII. 428 — capillary
action, VI. 110; XII. 38; I. 615-16'.
Cohojin (Menno, Baron de), VII. 29—
on fortification, IX. 770—his system
described, 775.
Cohort, VII. 30.
Coif, VII. 30.
Coignet(Mich.), on navigation, XV. 747.
Coilere Pettah, VII. 30.
Coille, in Hindustan, VII. 30.
Coimbetoor, VII. 30.
Coimbra, a Portuguese city, VII. 31—
university of, XVIII. 481.
Coin, VII. 31—adulteration of, II. 166
—ancient, III. 259—standard ster¬
ling silver and gold of Britain, VI.
420, 421 — distress in England in
the 16 th century from debasement of
the,VII. 334,n. 1 ;335—its state in the
reign of William the Third, 337 ; XIII.
414—advantages of coinedmoney, XV.
385. See Currency, Medals, Money,
Coinage, Coining.
Coinage, VII. 32 ; XIV. 419 — Mr
Boulton’s improvements in, V. 148—
of Britain, XIII. 504—probable cause
why the die sometimes adheres to the
coin, XX. 753. See Assaying, Coin.
Coining of false money, XIV. 495.
Coipu, in zoology, XIV. 138.
Colter (Volcher), his anatomical re¬
searches, II. 697.
Coke, VII. 7—for furnaces, X. 276-
making of, XII. 442—not needed in
hot-blast smelting, XX. 408.
►  (Sir Edward), lord chief jus¬
tice, VII. 54; XIII. 189.
Col, island, VII. 55.
Colabba, island, VII. 55.
Colaire Lake, VII. 55.
ColLaircotta, VII. 55.
COLANGODU, VII. 55.
Colapoor, VII. 55.
Colaptes, birds, XVI. 597.
Colar, in Hindustan, VII. 55-6.
Colarbasians, sect, VII. 56.
Colaris*. bird, XVI. 585.
COL
COLABPOOB, VII. 56.
Colaspis, insect, IX. 183.
Colbebt (J. B.) VII. 56; X. 31—his
commercial regulations, 185—dyeing
encouraged by, VIII. 297—his ordi¬
nance about population-registers in
Paris, XV. 530.
Colby (Colonel), employed on the trigo¬
nometrical survey of Britain, XXI.
354, 359; IX. 550.
Colchester, in Essex, VII. 57.
Colchis, VII. 57—Egyptian colony in,
VIII. 464.
COLCOTHAR, VII. 57.
Cold, VII. 57—reflection of, I. 646—
pulsations of, in the air, VI. 761—
instrument for indicating these, ib.—
influence of clouds upon them, 762—
Dr Wollaston’s mode of producing ar¬
tificial, VII. 504—Dr Currie on the
medical effects of, 555—alleged cold¬
ness of the moon’s rays, 749—pre¬
servative effects of, IX. 729—radia¬
tion of, XI. 184—means of producing,
191, 195; XIV. 730 ; XXI. 678—at
the tops of mountains, XII. 134—
. death from, XIV. 499—sensation of,
608 ; XVII. 662—produced by evapo¬
ration, XIV. 730—in Siberia, XX.
325—ebullition produced by, 576—in
Tibet, XXI. 255—its production by
electricity, 678. See Congelation,
Heat, Ice, Polar Seas.
———, a disease. See Catarrh.
Ooldingham, VII. 66—priory, TV. 599.
Coldstream, VII. 66—bridge, V. 271.
Cole (William), VII. 66.
Colebrook (Josiah), on encaustic paint¬
ing, VIII. 695.
  Dale, XIX. 622.
Colebrooke (H. T.), his translation of
a Hindu mathematical work, II. 425.
Coleoptera, insects, IX. 59, 107.
Colerain, VII. 66 ; XIII. 554.
■Coleridge (S. T»), his mistake as to the
JParva Naturalia of Aristotle, I. 427
—on .the cause of Luther’s visions,
III. 298—on the German drama, VIII.
177-8—on Homer, XI. 543, 545, 546,
n—his opinion of Mackintosh, XIII.
657—on poetry, XVIII. 144—on Ra¬
belais, XIX. 4.
Coleshill, in Warwick, VII. 67.
Colesht, town in India, VII. 67.
Colet (John), VII. 67.
Coleworts, XI. 667.
Colgong, in Hindustan, VII. 67.
■Colias, insect, IX. 241.
Coliberts, in law, VII. 67.
Colic, in horses, XXI. 624.
Coligni (Gaspard de), VII. 67.
Colina, hot springs of, VI. 524.
Colinda, in Hindustan, VII. 67.
Colisa, fish, XII. 190.
Coliseum in Rome, VII. 67; II. 668-9 ;
HI. 443, 473 ; XIX. 427—in London,
XIII. 539.
Colius, bird, XVI. 582.
CoH (Castle), XXI. 12.
■Collado on gunnery, XI. 42.
Colladon (Dr), on electro-magnetism.
VIII. 638.
Collar, VII. 67—Knights of the, ib.
Collar-bone, in man, II. 786—the mam¬
malia, III. 7—birds, 12—reptiles, 15.
CoLarass, VII. 68.
Co hard (M. Royer), taught Reid’s philo¬
sophy at Paris, I. 388—his efforts to
1‘ender speculative philosophy popu¬
lar in France, ib.
Collateral, VII. 68.
Collation, VII. 68.
Collect, VII. 68.
CoLLEGAL PETTAH, VII. 68.
College, VII. 69. See Corporation.
——- of Justice in Scotland, XIX.
725, 760 ; VIII. 418.
Collegians, VII. 69.
Collegiate churches, VII. 70.
Colletes, insect, IX. 232.
Collier (Arthur), denies the existence of
a material world, I. 168, 274.
 {Jeremy), VII. 70. ^on the Im-
INDEX,
COL
morality of the Stage, VIII. 173;
XXI. 550.
Collier’s filter, IX. 581, 582.
Colliers, formerly slaves in Scotland,
XX. 388.
Collieries, VII. 70—damps in, Oil-
protection against these, XIII. 46—
Davy’s safety-lamp, VII. 641—acci¬
dents in, XV. 245—high temperature
of, XV. 176. See Coal.
Collingwood (Cuthbert, Lord), VII.
85—his conduct at the battle of Cape
St Vincent, V. 481.
Collins on book-keeping, IV. 776.
 (Anthony), VII. 86—his contro¬
versy with Dr Clarke, I. 144—on the
doctrine of necessity, 148, 265; VI.
729—Locke’s regard for, I. 264—on
the tenets of the Epicureans and
Stoics, 266—his notion of libei*ty pre¬
cisely that of Hobbes, 268—Bentley’s
answer to his Discourse of Freethink-
ing, IV. 577—on materialism, VI. 729.
  (Colonel), his account of the
New Hollanders, IV. 208.
 * (Samuel), his researches in com¬
parative anatomy, II. 700.
  (William), VII. 87—merits of
his poetry, XVIII. 172.
Collinson (Peter), VII. 87.
Colliquamentcm, VII. 88.
COLLIQUATION, VII. 88.
Collision of bodies, laws of, XIV. 351,
386—motion from, XVII. 567, 571.
Colliuris, insect, IX. 113.
Colman (Geo.), VII. 88—his comedies,
VIII. 176, 178.
Colmar, in France, VII. 88.
Colmata, an Italian agricultural process,
II. 306.
 (La), XVII. 525.
Colmenar (Viejo), a Spanish town in
Guadalaxara, VII. 88.
Colna, town in Bengal, VII. 88.
Colne, river, XL 284 ; XV. 60—its na¬
vigation, XVI. 11.
Colobata, insects, IX. 287.
Cologna, VII. 88.
Cologne, VII. 88-coins of, XV. 407
—early printing at, XVIII. 548—af¬
fair of the archbishop of, 687.
Colombia, VII. 89; II. 641.—institution
of the republic of, 639—heights of
mountains of, XVII. 505—map of,
vol. VII. PI. CL XX VI-2. See Bolivar,
Bolivia.
Colombin, VI. 471.
Colomesiana, II. 676.
Colon, anatomy of, II. 816—comparative
anatomy of, III. 38.
Colonel, VII. 111.
Colonies, VII. Ill—acts of Parliament
in 1826 respecting trade with the, 564
Roman, XIX. 384—late revolution
in the practice of colonization, XXI.
975. See Emigration.
Colonnade, VII. 111.
Colomus, VII. 111.
Colophonite, VII. 126; XV. 159.
Colorado, river, XVII. 118.
Coloratura, VII. 126.
Colosseum. See Coliseum.
Collossus of-Rhodes, VII. 126; XX. 15.
Colostrum, VII. 127.
Colot, his surgical skill, XX. 828.
Colour, VII. 127; VI. 646; XIII. 333
—composition of colours, XI V. 741—
doctrine of, XVI. 403-beauty of, IV.
497—primary, resolvable into red,
green, and violet, I. 635-*-periodical,
VI. 635—prismatic, XIII. 331—mis¬
taken notions regarding the colour of
bodies, the cause of much error in
philosophy, I. 64—Dr Reid on, 65-
connection between it and extension
and figure, ib.—its varieties useful in
enabling us to distinguish bodies, 66
—Addison on the nature of, 273—se¬
paration of, by refraction, VI. 633—
colours of aurora borealis, IV. 197—
of halos and parhelia, 634—of the
rainbow, 634—of thin plates, 635—
of double plates, 636—of supernume-
COL
rary rainbows and glories, 637—of
striated substances, 638—of mirrors
and thick plates, 636—of deflected
light, 639—of defracted light, 640—
of mixed plates, 641—of doubly re¬
fracting substances, 644—of clouds,
VII. 3—of the electric spark, VIII.
583—of quadrupeds, XIV. 86,, 139—
of minerals, XV. 126—of the atmo¬
sphere, XVI. 510; XVII. 530 —of
natural bodies, XVI. 510—of the sea,
XVII. 518—of serpents, XX- 132—
of plants, VII. 127—of flowers, XXI.
581—of fruits, 584—stars of different
colours, IV. 47—change of colour of
cameleons, XIX. 148—resemblance
of the colours of birds to those of the
places they inhabit, XX. 317—in¬
fluence of electricity on, VIII. 633,
635—coloured polarisation, XVIII.
234—influence of light on the colour
of plants, XXI. 578, 584—coloured
rings formed on metallic plates by
voltaic currents, XXI. 680. See Com¬
plexion, Dyeing.
Colours, perception of, XVII. 464—are
the blind capable of distinguishing
them by touch ? IV. 694, 698—inca¬
pacity of distinguishing, VII. 128.
 , in painting, VII. 127—in crayon
painting, VII. 452—in encaustic paint¬
ing, VIII. 695—water colours, 184
—porcelain colours, XVIII. 438 —
printing in, 5.68—printing of coloured
engravings, XV. 3—laws of harmo¬
nious colouring in house-painting,
XVI. 732. See Painting.
Colouring matter of leaves. III. 95—of
the blood, VI. 494.
Colquhoun (Dr), on the corn raised and
consumed in the United Kingdom,
VII. 355.
Colran, river, VII. 129.
Colt, VII. 129.
Coltie, VII. 129.
Coluber, serpent, XX. 139.
Colubriform serpents, XX. 146.
Columb (St), canal, XVI. 18.
Columba, bird, XVI. 612.
—   (St), VII. 129—his preaching
in Germany, X. 479—his residence in
Iona, XII. 338—the Christianizer of
Scotland, XIX. 698.
Columbavus, VIL 130..
Columbella, in conchology, XV. 346.
Columbia (dUtrict of), in Maryland,
XIV. 273—canals in XVI. 27.
 , in S. Carolina, VII. 130.
■ , in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
  River, VII. 130; XVI. 523;
XXL 452—climate of, II. 613—fur-
trade of, X. 264.
Columbian printing-press, XVIII. 570.
Columbic acid, VI. 391—salts of, 454.
Columbium, VI. 391—specific gravity
of, XII. 28.
Columbkill, XII. 352. See Iona.
Columbo, in Ceylon, VI. 299, 303, 305.
Columbretes, islands, VII. 130.
Columbus (Christopher), VII. 130;
XX. 498—his voyages, X. 398—his
discovery of America, II. 636 ; of Ja¬
maica, XII. 496 ; of the valuation of
the needle, XIII. 686.
 , anatomist. II. 696, 698.
—* town in Ohio, XVI. 330.
—* (Congregation of St), VII. 130.
Columella (L. J. M.), VII. 134—on
irrigation, XII. 455.
 in botany, V. 48, 55.
Columelliaceae, in botany, V. 118.
Column, VII. 134—in architecture, ib.;
III. 465—Doric, 437, 450, 451—Ionic,
439, 440, 451—Corinthian, 440,447—
considered with reference to architec¬
tural composition, 460—building of
columns, V. 676—strength of, VI.
153; XX. 758, 771—construction of
wooden, XII. 613.
Columnarium, VII. 135.
Colures, VII. 135; III. 755.
Coluri, Greek island, VIL 135.
Colxba, or Colybus, VII. 135.
41
COL—COM
Coiydium, insect, IX. 176.
Colymbetes, insects, IX. 135.
Colymbus, bird, XVI. 629.
Colyton, in Devonshire, VII. 135.
Colyttus, IV. 124.
Coma, Syrian town, VII. 135.
 , in botany, V. 50.
■ 1 ■ Berenices, VII. 135.
Comayagua, XI. 18.
Combs of bees, IV. 525—their dura¬
bility, 531.
Combat, VII. 135—judicial, ib.; VI.
601; XVI. 520.
Combativeness, XVII. 462.
Combe (Dr Andrew), on phrenology,
XVII. 469, 471.
Combermere (Lord), his capture of
Bhurtpore, IV. 611.
Combination, VII. 135—laws of che¬
mical, VI. 355.
Combinations, in mathematics, VII.
135.
Combination-laws, repeal of the, V, 561
—effects of that measure, 564.
Combing of wool, XXI. 935.
Combo, XX, 94,
Combooconam, VIL 136,
Combretaceaa, in botany, V. 109.
Combruno (Mr), on brewing, V, 231—
on malting, 236.
Combumpadoo, VII. 136,
Combust, in astronomy, VII. 136.
Combustibles, phosphorescent effects of
electricity on, VIII. 634.
Combustio Pecunij?, VII. 136.
Combustion, VII. 136 — theory of,
XVII. 449—theories of Stahl and
Lavoisier, VI. 348, 350—spontane¬
ous, of human body, VIII. 24—elec¬
tricity developed in, 605—Hooke on,
XI. 555—air necessary to, XVIII.
130—in steam-boilers, XX. 684,
Comedy, VII. 136—Greek, VIII. 148—
middle and new, 150—Italian, 158—
French, 166—English, 167, et seq.—
genteel, 175—of intrigue, ib.—Ger¬
man, 177.
Comenius (John Amos), VII. 136.
Comephora, fish, XII. 194.
Comercolly, in Bengal, VII. 136.
Comets, VII. 137; III. 757 ; IV. 37—
disturbance of their orbits by planet¬
ary attraction, 59—just notions of the
ancients regarding, I. 452—size and
consistence of, 668—methods for dis¬
covering the orbits of, ib,—Lalande
on, XIII. 28—Lambert on, 37—atmos¬
phere of, XVIII. 105 —Halley’s comet,
I. 667 ; III. 744, 749.
Comillah, in Hindustan, VII. 151.
Comines (Philippe de), VII. 151.
Comita, Sicilian town, VII. 152.
Comitatus, in law, VII. 152.
Comitia, Roman assemblies, VII. 152
—centuriata, XIX. 379.
COMITIALIS MORBUS, VII. 154.
Comitium, VH. 154.
Comma, VII. 154.
Commachio, Italian city, VII. 154.
Commander-in-chief, naval, XVI. 51,
Commandments (the Ten), VII. 661,
COMMANDRY, VII. 154.
Commelineae, in botany, V. 136.
Commemoration, VII. 154.
Commendam, VII. 154.
Commendatcs, VII. 155.
Commensurable, VII. 155,
Commentary, VII. 155.
Commerce, VII. 155—history of, ib.—
principles of, 163—fluctuations of, in
the present age, 172—effects of the
cotton-manufacture on, 413—evils of
the exclusive system,414,421—credit,
457—promoted by the Crusades, VII.
493—acts of Parliament for the bene¬
fit of, in 1823, V. 557 ; and in 1825,
564—^commercial distress of 1825, ib.
•—characters of abbreviations in, VI.
323—promotion of civilization by, IX.
382, 410—beneficial results of, XVIII.
278—employment of capital in, 284—
distinction between agriculture and,
293 — comme-ce of Asia, III, 698;
42
INDEX
COM
England, VIII. 779; France, X. 185;
and the United States, XXI. 465. See
Economists, and the geographical ar¬
ticles generally.
Commercial duties, XV. 473.
Commercial League of Germany, XVIII.
686, 694.
Commerct, in France, VII. 176.
Commewina, river, VII. 176.
Commim, in Hindustan, VII. 176.
Commination, VII. 176.
COMMIVATORY, VII. 176.
Comminution, VII. 176.
Commire (John), VII. 176.
Commissariat department of the British
army, III. 618.
Commissary, VII. 176.
 Courts, VII. 176; VIII. 418;
XIX. 757.
Commission, VII. 176.
  , or factorage, IX. 475—calcula¬
tion of, III. 556.
Commissioner, VII. 177.
Commissura, in botany, V. 48.
Commissure, VII. 177.
Commitment, VII. 177.
Committee, VII. 177.
Commodate, VII. 177.
Commodity, VII. 177.
Commodore, VII. 177 ; XVI. 52.
Commodus, Roman emperor, VII. 177
—history of his reign, XIX. 409.
Common, VII. 177 —improvement of
commons, II. 316.
  , in law, VII. 177—in grammar,
178—in geometry, ib.
Common-peace book, VII. 177.
Common-places, XIX. 206.
Common Pleas, VII. 178.
— Prayer, VII. 178.
 sense, I. 387; XIV. 638 ; XX. 96.
Commonalty, VII. 178.
Commoner, VII. 179.
Commons (House of), VII. 179; IX.
13; XVII. 85.
COMMONTY, VII. 179.
Commonwealth, history of England dur¬
ing the, V. 333.
Commote, VII. 179.
Communis, in botany, VII. 179.
Communibus locis, VII. 179—annis, ib.
Communicating, in theology, VII. 179.
Communication, VII. 179.
Communion, VII. 179—service, 180.
Community, VII. 180. See Corporation.
Comnena (Anna), VII. 180 ; XIII. 293.
Como, lake, VII. 180; XII. 484 ; XIII.
469 ; XVII. 523.
 , delegation and city, VII. 180.
Comorin (Cape), VII. 180.
Comoro, island, VII. 180.
Compact, Vll. 180.
Companion, VII. 180.
Company, VII. 180—commercial com¬
panies, ib.—of soldiers, 184.
Company’s Island, VII. 184.
Comparative Anatomy, III. 1; XIV.
515—province of, II. 685—cultivated
by Aristotle, 687—revival of, 700—
utility of, XVII. 584. See Animal
Kingdom, Entomology, &c.
 — Physiology, XVII. 699.
 degree, VII. 185 ; X. 669, 689.
Comparison, VII. 185—in grammar,
X. 669, 689—phrenological faculty of,
XVII. 464.
Compart it ion, VII. 187.
Compartment, VII. 187.
Compass (mariner’s), XV. 751—inven¬
tion of the, I. 624; III. 644 ; X. 525, et
seq* ; XIH. 685; XV. 746 ; XX. 216
—action of aurora borealis on, IV. 199
—Coulomb on its improvement, VII.
425—one described by him, 426—ef¬
fect of electricity on, VIII. 637—
points of the, X. 407—discovei’y of
variation and dip of needle, XIII.
686 ; and of its daily variation, 688
—error from attraction of iron in
ships, 693, 772—dip of needle, 730,
742—its variation, 730 ; XV. 789-
change of its variation, 749—form
and construction of needle, XIII. 764
COM—CON
—common and azimuth compasses,
765—variation compass, 766—survey¬
ing with the compass, XXI. 6.
Compass-dials, VII. 188.
Compasses, VII. 188.
Compassion, VII. 188.
Compeigne, in France, VII. 189.
Compendium, VII. 189.
Compensation, VII. 189.
Compensation-balance of watch, VI. 798.
Competalia, ancient feasts, VII. 189.
COMPETENTES, VII. 189.
Complement, VII. 189; XXI. 370.
Complex, VII. 189—term, ib.
Complexion, VII. 189 ; XIV. 195—of
different races, 198—original, of the
human species, II. 134—of the Ame¬
rican races, 616.
Complication, VII. 192.
Compline, VII. 192.
Complutum, Greek Bible, IV. 614.
Componite, in mineralogy, VII. 192.
Composite, in botany, V. 116.
Composite, VII. 192—Numbers, ib.—
Order of architecture, ib.; III. 425,
443, 449, 451, 461.
Composition, VII. 192—in logic, 193-
in music, ib.—in painting, 194—in
printing, ib.; XVIII. 555—architec¬
tural, III. 459—of motion, VIII. 356
—of pressures, 358.
 (literary), VII. 193—Condillac
on, 206—Playfair’s habits of, XVIII.
48—poetic diction, 14 3—letter-writ¬
ing, 397.
  of forces, VI. 157; VIII. 357
—machine/or shewing, XIV. 454—
Compositor, XVIII. 555.
Compostella, VII. 194 ; XI. 11.
Compound," VII. 194—motion, ib.;
VIII. 356—numbers, VII. 194—ratio,
ib.
  interest, VII. 194—tables of
increase of L.l at, III. 231-2.
Comprehension, VII. 194.
Compressibility, II. 114 ; XII. 9 ; XVII.
568 ; XVIII. 75, 98, et seq.—is a pro¬
perty of all bodies, XX. 751.
Compton (Henry), VII. 194.
Compulsor, VII. 194.
Compurgator, VII. 195.
Comtah, in Hindustan, VII. 195.
Comus, VII. 195.
Conant (Dr John), VII. 195.
Conatus, VII. 195.
Conca (Sebastian), VII. 195.
Conoan, in India, VII. 195.
Concarneau, French city, VII. 195.
Concatenation, VII. 195.
Concave, VII. 195.
Concentration, VII. 195.
Concentrativeness, XVII. 462.
Concentric, VII. 195.
Conception, in metaphysics, XIV. 619.
 , in physiology, VII. 196 ; XVII.
960.
 — (immaculate) of the Holy Virgin,
VII. 196.
 , in Chili, VII. 196; VI. 539.
Concert, VII. 196.
CONCERTATO, VII. 196.
CONCERTO-GROSSO, VII. 196.
Conchagua, XI. 19.
Conchifera, mollusca, XV. 366.
CONCHITES MARMOR, VII. 196.
Conchoid, VII. 196—construction of
the, III. 129.
Concholepas, in conchology, XV. 349.
Conchology, XV. 324.
Conchon, in Hindustan, VII. 196.
Conchylia, VII. 196.
CONCIATOR, VII. 196.
Concinnous intervals, VII. 196.
 system, VII. 196.
CONCLAMATIO, VII. 196.
Conclave, VII. 196.
Conclusion, in logic, VII. 196, 266 ;
XIII. 446.
Concord, in grammar, VII. 196.
 , in music, VII. 196. See Har¬
mony.
 , in Massachusetts, XIV. 305.
 , in New Hampshire, XVI. 165.
CON
Concordance of the Bible, VII. 196—
Calasio’s, V. 785.
Concordat, VII. 197; X. 201.
Concordia, goddess, VII. 197.
Concrete, VII. 197.
Concretion, VII. 197—in pathology,
XVII. 129.
Concubinage and Concubine, VII. 197.
Condamine (C. M. de la), VII. 198; I.
656 ; IX. 548.
Condapilly, VII. 200.
Condavir, VII. 201.
Conde (L. de B., Prince of), VII. 201.
 Sur Noireau, VII. 203.
Condeixa, in Portugal, VII. 203.
Condemnation, VII. 203.
Condensation, VII. 203.
Condenser, VII. 203—of electricity,
VIII. 651—of steam-engine, XX. 633,
663, 696.
Condillac (E. B. de), VII. 203—on
vision, I. 164 — his commentary on
Locke, 173, 363—on the origin of
ideas, 17 3—cause of popularity of his
works,ib.—when most successful, com¬
monly follows Locke, 174—most valu¬
able parts of his writings, ib.—instance
of radical error of his system, 176—
its influence in misleading his con¬
temporaries, 177—M. de Bonald on
his merits, ib.—on sensation, 364—
omits to distinguish perception from
emotion, ib.—on the deaf and dumb,
VII. 647 — on association of ideas,
VIII. 436—his merits as a philoso¬
pher, 437 ; I. 174, et seq.
Condiments, XVII. 625.
Conditional, VII. 207.
Condom, in France, VII. 207.
Condor, bird, XVI. 558 ; XI. 383—of
Chili, VI. 526.
 , Pulo Isles, VII. 208.
Condorcanqui (Jose Gabriel), IV. 755.
Condorcet (Marquis of), VII. 208—on
religious Machiavelism, I. 23—on Ba¬
con, Descartes, and Galileo, 56—friend¬
ship between him and Cabanig, V. 764
—on Du Hamel’s style, VIII. 256—on
probability, XVIII. 593 — lens sug¬
gested by, XX. 21.
CONDORMIENTES, VII. 209.
Condrieu, French city, VII. 210.
Condrodite, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Conduction, electrical, VIII. 580.
Conductors of electricity, XXI. 675 ;
VIII. 645, 662—house, 647—ship, ib.
Condyles, II. 789.
Condylura, in zoology, XIV. 104.
Cone, in geometry, VII. 210, 252 ; X.
465—development of, 416; XII. 608
—mensuration of, XIV. 572. See
Conic Sections.
 , in botany, V. 49.
Conegliano, Italian city, VII. 210.
CONFARREATION, VII. 210.
Confederation of the Rhine, VII. 210.
Confession, vil. 211—of Augsburg,
XIX. 90.
Confessions of Faith, VII. 211—re¬
jected by the Independents, XII. 261
—Dr Taylor against, ib.—of Church of
Scotland, XIX. 735, 763.
Confessional, VII. 211.
Confessor, VII. 211.
Configuration, VII. 211.
Confirmation, in theology, VII. 211.
Conflagration, VII. 211.
Confolens, in France, VII. 211.
Conformity, VII, 212.
Confucius, VII. 212—works of, VI.
551—birth of, XV. 677.
Confusion, VII. 213—of Tongues at
Babel, ib.; XVII. 355.
Confutation, VII. 213.
Conge d’ elire, VII. 213.
Congelation, VIL 61—artificial, 62,
504 ; XIII. 247—height of limit of
perpetual, VI. 754 ; XVII. 544—of
water, XI. 189—of mercury, VI. 262
—freezing mixtures, VII. 60, 62; XI.
196; VI. 263.
Congeries, VII. 213.
Congestion, XVII. 126.
CON
Congleton, in Cheshire, VIL 214.
Congo, African country, VII. 214 —
Captain Turkey’s expedition to, II.
234—ants in. III. 241.
Congoon, Persian town, VII. 216.
Congregation, VII. 216—lords of the,
XIX. 733.
Cong REG ATIONALIsts, VII. 216.
Congress, VII. 216—of the United
States, XXI. 481.
Congreve (William), VII. 216 — his
merits as a dramatist, VIII. 172—his
character of Dryden, 223—wit of his
comedies, XXI. 551.
 (Sir William), his report on gas¬
lighting, X. 363.
Congruity, VII. 217.
Coni, in Italy, VII. 217.
Conia, poisonous quality of, XVIII. 177.
Conic Sections, VII. 218—parabola,
221—ellipse, 227—hyperbola, 238—
cone and its sections, 252—curvature
of conic sections, 254—their areas,
258—Apollonius on, III, 287-8—in¬
troduced into geometry by Plato,
XIV. 314—Dr R. Simson on, XX. 358.
Conicera, insects, IX. 292.
Conichthyodontes, VII. 263.
Coniferaa, in botany, V. 131.
Goniometer (Leslie’s), XII. 24.
Conirostres, birds, XVI. 579.
ConissaljE, VII. 263.
Conium, a poison, XIV. 506.
Conjee, in Hindustan, VII. 263.
CoNJEVERAM, VII. 263.
Conjugate diameter, VII. 263.
Conjugation, VII. 263.
Conjunction, in astronomy, VII. 263.
 , in grammar, VII. 263 ; X. 672,
673, 685.
Conjuration, VII. 263.
Conkair, in Hindustan, VIL 263.
Connaracese, in botany, V. 106.
Connaught, VII. 263.
Connecticut, state, VII. 263 ; XVI.
157—canals in, 24 ; XXI. 470.
 , river, VII. 264.
Connectives, VII. 264.
Connectivum, in botany, V. 44.
Connell (Prof.), on the secondary agency
of electric currents, XXL 681.
Connemara, X. 303.
Connoisseur, VII. 264.
Connor (Bernard), VII. 264.
 , bishopric of, III. 274.
Conoid, in geometry, VII. 264.
Conon, general, VII. 264 ; IV. 160.
 , astronomer, III. 730.
Conopalpus, insect, IX. 166.
Conophaga, birds, XVI. 569.
Conops, insect, IX. 278 ; VII. 265.
Conopsarise, insects, IX. 278.
Conovium, VIL 265.
Conrad, VIL 265.
Conradin, VII. 265.
Consanguinity, VII. 265.
Conscience, XV. 457, 466; III. 522—
definition of, I. 346—formation of,
from various elements, 405. See
Ethical Philosophy.
Conscientiousness, XVII. 4 63.
Consciousness, philosophy of, XIV. 630.
Conscript, VII. 265.
Conscription, French, III. 601—Russian,
XIX. 574, note 2.
Consecration, VIL 265—of bishops,
IV. 652.
Consentes, VII. 265.
Consequence, in logic, VII. 266.
Conservatio virium vivarum, VIII. 377.
Conservator, VII. 266.
CONSERVATORIOS, VII. 266.
Conservatory, VII. 266; XL 686—
conservatory-plants, 687.
CoNSISTENTES, VII. 266.
Consistorial Court, Edinburgh, VIII.
418. See Commissary Courts.
Consistory, VII. 266.
Consol, in architecture, III. 465.
Consonants, VII. 266—pronunciation
of, XVII. 684.
Conspiracy, VII. 266.
Conspirators, VII. 266.
INDEX
43
CON
Constablf, VII. 26G.
 (Archibald), VII. 267.
Constance, VII. 269 — lake of, ib.;
XVII. 523 ; XXL 46.
Constancy, VII. 269.
Constans, Roman emperor, VII. 272-
reign of, XIX. 417—his visit to Bri¬
tain, 696.
Constant (Benjamin), on English li¬
berty, XIII. 172.
Constantia, VII. 269.
Constantina, in Algiers, VII. 269.
 , Spanish town, VII. 270.
 , wife of'Gallus Caesar, VII. 273.
Constantine the Great, VII. 270 
reign of, XIX. 414—his vision, 415—
his proceedings in Britain, V. 301—
his improvement of Byzantium, 761
—his clemency, VI. 735—ecclesiasti¬
cal government instituted by, XI.
491—his library, XIII. 290—state of
art in his reign, XVI. 705—his law
for the regular observance of Sun¬
day, XX. 809.
 II., Roman emperor, VII. 270-
reign of, XIX. 417.
 (Dracoses), VII. 270.
 , emperor of Russia, XIX. 561.
 , Grand Duke, XVIII. 209.
 (Robert), VII. 270.
Constantinograd, VII. 270.
Constantinople, VII. 270—aqueduct
near, III. 318—supply of water to,
319—dome of the church of St Sophia
at, III. 380, 389— military establish¬
ments in, 615—unsuccessful British
expedition against, V. 524—era of,
VI. 658 — commerce of, VII. 157;
XXI. 427—taken and plundered by
the Crusaders, 287, 486 ; and by tiie
Turks, 290; XXI. 412—bishops of, XI.
491, et seq.—ancient MSS. at, XIII.
288 — libraries at, 291, 317; XXL
426—made the seat of the Roman em¬
pire, XIX. 416—Russian expeditions
against, 528—introduction of the silk¬
worm at, XX. 351. See Byzantium.
Constantinopolitan history, VII
271.
Constantins, Roman emperor, VII. 272-
reign of, XIX. 417.
—  Chlorus, XIX. 413, 414.
Constellations, VII. 291; IV. 41 
Dupuis on the, VIII. 286.
Constitution, VII. 291.
Constitutions (Apostolical), VII. 291.
Constrictor muscles, VII. 291.
Construction, VII. 291.
Constructiveness, XVII. 462.
CONSUALIA, VII. 291.
CONSUBSTANTIAL, VII. 291.
Consubstantiation, theological doc¬
trine of, VII. 291; XX. 816.
Consuegra, Spanish town, VII. 291.
Consul, Roman, VII. 291; XIX. 368.
Consumption of wealth, XVIII. 303.
 , a disease. See Phthisis.
Contact, doubtful whether it ha% ever
been observed, XVII. 569.
Contagion, XXL 992.
CONTANAGUR, VII. 292.
Conte, French city, VII. 292.
Contemplation, VII. 292—utility of a
life of, XX. 453.
Contemporary, VII. 292.
Context, VII. 292.
Contexture VII. 292.
Conti (Abbe), IX. 634.
Contiguity, VII. 292.
Contiguous, VII. 292.
Continence, VII. 292.
Continent, VII. 292 f X. 407.
Contingent, VII. 292.
Continued, VII. 292—bass, ib.
Continuity, law of, in mechanics, first
maintained by Galileo, I. 476.
Continuo, in music, VII. 293.
CONTOBABDITES, VII. 293.
Contor. See Condor.
Con torsion, VII. 293.
Contour, in painting, VII. 293.
Contourne, in heraldry, VII, 293.
CONTOURNIATED, VII. 293.
CON—COO
Contra, in Hesse-Cassel, VII. 293.
Contra-harmonic proportion, VII
293.
Contraband, VII. 293.
Contract, VII. 293.
Contractile force, VII. 293.
Contractility, muscular, II. 738 ; XVII.
593, 609.
Contraction, VII. 293.
Contradiction, VII. 293.
I Contradictory propositions, VII. 293.
Contrariety, VII. 293,
Contrast, VII. 293.
Contre, in heraldry, VII. 293.
Contrition, VII. 293.
Control and Controller, VII. 293.
Contusion, VII. 293.
Conurus, bird, XVI. 601.
Conus, in conchology, XV. 346.
Conusid®, mollusca, XV. 364.
Convents, French, X. 202.
Conventicles, VII. 293—act of Par¬
liament against, in 1670, V. 349.
Convention, VII. 293 — of Scottish
burghs, XIV. 591.
Conventual, VII. 293-4.
CONVENTUS JURIDICI, VII. 294.
Converging or convergent lines, rays,
and series, VII. 294.
Conversation, VII. 294 — published
collections of the conversations of
eminent men, II. 674.
Converse, VII. 294.
Conversion, VII. 294—puritanical no¬
tions of, VIII. 453.
Convert, VII. 294.
Convex and Convexity, VII. 294.
Convict, VII. 294 —convicts in Van
Diemen’s Land, XXI. 555—in New
South Wales, 718.
Conviction, VII. 294 ; IV. 139.
Convocation, VII. 294 ; XVIII. 523.
Convolution, VII. 294.
Convolutions of the brain in man, II.
807—in brutes. III. 31—their relation
to the intellect of animals, 163.
Convolvulaeeae, in botany, V. 122.
Convoy, VII. 295.
Convulsion, in pathology, XVII. 132.
Conway, town in Caernarvonshire, 11.26
—vale of, V. 772.
 , a river in Caernarvonshire, V.
772—its navigation, XVI. 11.
 (General), his motion against the
American war, V. 420.
Coocii Bahar, VII. 295.
Cook (Sir Anthony), VII. 295.
  (Capt. James), VII. 295—his
voyages, X. 402 ; IV. 349—his disco¬
veries in X. America, II. 403; New
Holland, IV. 205, 210 ; New Guinea,
211 ; the New Hebrides, 214 ; New
Caledonia, 214; New Zealand, 215;
Kerguelen’s Land, 217 ; the arctic and
antarctic regions, XVIII. 219, 224 ;
and Polynesia, XVIII. 319, 324, 325.
 (Colonel), on hounds and hunt¬
ing, XL 703, e« seq. 742, ef seq.
Cooks, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Cookery, VII. 304 ; IX. 735—import¬
ance of, VIII. 25—its influence on
health, XIV. 508—cooking by steam,
XX. 608.
Cookstown, XXI. 441.
Coolies, XI. 31, 32, 397.
Cooloo, in Hindustan, VII. 304,
Cooloor, town in Hindustan, VII. 304.
Coomassie, VII. 304 ; III. 669.
Coombe Hill canal, XVI. 11.
Coonia, XL 710.
Coopang, town in Timor, VII. 304.
Cooper, VII. 305—cooperage at Dept¬
ford, VIII. 81.
 (Mr), on codification, XIII. 193.
 (Mr), his views respecting mate¬
rialism, XIV. 676, et seq.
 (Anthony Ashley), 1st earl of
Shaftesbury, VII. 305—Charles II.’s
prosecution of, V. 352—his flight to
Amsterdam, 354.
• (Anthony Ashley), 3d earl of
Shaftesbury, VII. 305 — on Locke’s
theory of innate ideas, L 118—his Cha-
COO-COP
racieristics, 332—merits and defects
of, as a writer, 332-3—his Moralists
and Inquiry concerning Virtue, 333—
his ethical views, 334—on beauty, IV.
485—on Shakspeare’s style, XX. 171.
Cooper (Sir Astley),his experiments on
digestion, VIII. 21.
 (J. F.), novels of, XIX. 349.
   (John Gilbert), VII. 307.
 or Couper (Thomas), VII. 306.
Coorg, in Hindustan, VII. 307.
Cooserah, in Hindustan, VII. 307.
Coots, birds, XVI. 628.
Coote (Sir Charles), his sanguinary pro-
, ceedings in Ireland, XII. 369.
 (Sir Eyre), XL 416, et seq.
 (General), VIII. 493.
Cootra, in Hindustan, VII. 307.
Copal, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Coparcenary, VII. 307.
Coparceners, VII. 307.
Cope, VII. 307. See Coping.
  (Sir John), defeated by Prince
Charles at Prestonpans, V. 381.
Copenhagen, VII. 307, 725 — Royal
Academy of Sciences at, II. 72—port
of, IV. 328—attacked bv the British
in 1801, V. 501 ; XVI. 88; VII. 724 ;
X. 120; and in 1807, V. 523, 526;
VII. 724 ; X. 148—besieged by the
Swedes in 1659, VII. 722 ; and by
Charles XII., XXL 21—university of,
VII. 730—literary societies, ib.—naval
arsenal, VIII. 80—libraries, XIII. 316.
Copernican system, VII. 308; IV. 16.
Copernicus (Nicolas), VII. 308 ;
XVIII. 213—results of his discovery
of the true theory of the planetary
motions, I. 20—publication and recep¬
tion of his Astronomia Instaurata,
485—his discovery fully established
by Kepler and Galileo, 488-93—on
gravitation, 558 ; IV. 174—his astro¬
nomical discoveries, III. 73T—his pla¬
netary system, IV. 16.
Cophti, or Copti, VII. 310. See Copts.
Cophtic, VII. 310. See Coptic.
Copiapo, in Chili, VII. 310.
Copiata, VII. 310.
Coping, in architecture, III. 465—of
walls, V. 671, 675.
Copland (Prof.), his alleged introduction
into Britain of the use of chlorine in
bleaching, IV. 679.
Copper, VII. 310 ; VI. 414—in mine¬
ralogy, XV. 145, 146—native, 166—
annealing of. III. 197—its use in as¬
saying, 712—its compounds with zinc
and tin, V. 185—sheathing of ships
with, 440 ; XVI. 45 ; VII. 642 —
alloys with silver, VI. 420 ; and with
gold, 421—saccharate of, 472—smelt¬
ing of, in Chili, 530—salts of oxides
of, VI. 451—protects wood in sea¬
water from the attacks of the Lim-
noria terebrans, VII. 502—quantity
of, manufactured at Portsmouth,
\ III. 84 —use of black oxide of, as a
mordant, 304—engraving on, IX. 44
—specific gravity of, XII. 28—mag¬
netism of, XIII. 709—money, XIV.
470 ; XV. 384—its poisonous quality,
XIV. 501—culinary utensils of, 508
—its action on oak-timber, XX. 273
—strength of, for fastenings in ships,
296—silvering of, 354—cohesion of,
756 —its advantages as a material
for steam-engine boilers, 676, et seq.—
inferior in that respect to iron, XXI.
470, n. 2. See Coppermines, Copper¬
plates.
Copper-black, VII. 312.
Copper-emerald. See Dioptase.
Copper-glance, XV. 168.
Copper-green, VII. 312.
Copper-mica, VII. 312.
Copper-mines in Anglesey, III. 132—
Barraba, IV. 404—Britain, XV. 247
—Caernarvonshire, V. 773—Chili,
VI. 528, 534 —Cornwall, VII. 312,
367 ; XV. 276 — Cumberland, VII.
537—England, VIII. 768—Europe,
IX. 409 ; XV. 243, 251—Hindustan,
COP—COR
XL 384—Ireland, XII. 394—Japan,
512—Nonvay, XVI. 262—Sweden,
XXI. 31—Tibet, 256—the United
States, 454—Waterford, 810. Seethe
geographical articles generally.
Coppermine River, XI. 717.
Copper-nickel, XV. 166.
Copper-ore, XV. 161.
Copperplates, printing from, VI. 232—
XVIII. 537, 572—multiplication of,
by voltaic electricity, XXI. 683.
Copper-pyrites, XV. 167.
Copperas, VII. 312—a preventive of
dry-rot, VIII. 232. See Iron (sul¬
phate of).
Coppice, VII. 312 ; XVII. 785.
Copraja, island, VII. 312.
Coprophagi, insects, IX. 152.
Coprophilus, insect, IX. 138.
Copris, insect, IX. 154.
Coptos, in Egypt, VII. 312.
Copts, VII. 310; II. 225 ; VIII. 460
519—marriage among the, 528
Coptic language, VII. 310 ; VIII. 520
XIII. 93—alphabet, II. 540, 549—
Bibles, IV. 616—identity of the Cop¬
tic dialects with the ancient language
of Egypt, XL 308.
Copulation, XVII. 685
Copy, VII. 312.
Copyists of books, IV. 622—Egyptian,
VIII. 529.
Copyright, VII. 313—in dramatic per¬
formances, XXI. 194.
Coques (Gonzalez), VII. 320.
Coquimbo, VII. 320 ; VI. 539.
Cor Caroli—Hydros—Leonis, VII. 320.
Cora, temple at, III. 418, 450.
Corachie, in Sinde, VII. 320.
Coracias, birds, XVI. 585.
Coracomantes, VII. 321.
Coradge, river, VII. 321.
Corah, in Hindustan, VII. 321.
Coral islands and reefs, XVII. 515—in
the Australasian Sea, IV. 218—in
Polynesia, XVIII. 321,329—rocks at
the Loo Choo Islands, XHI. 565-
zoophytes which produce, XXI. 1022.
Coral-fishery of Marseilles, XIV. 262.
Coram, (Capt. Thomas), VII. 321.
Coran. See Alcoran.
Corban, VII. 321.
Corbeil, in France, VII. 321.
Corbeils, in fortification, VII. 321.
Corbel, in architecture, III. 465.
Corbet (Richard), VII. 321.
Corculum of seeds, VII. 322 ; III. 74.
Corcyra, VII. 322—sedition of, IV.
156—Corcyrian war, 154.
Cord, VII. 322. See Chord.
Cordage, VII. 322. See Rope.
Cordated, VII. 322.
Corday-d’Armans (M. A. C.), VII. 322.
Corded, in heraldry, VII. 323.
Cordelier, VII. 323.
Cordemoi (Gerald de), VII. 323.
Cordiace®, in botany, V. 122.
Cordier (Mens.), on the internal heat of
the globe, XV. 177, 230.
Cordilleras, or Andes, VII. 323—of
Mexico, XIV. 797—mines in the, XV.
264. See Andes.
Cordiners, VII. 324.
Cordon, in fortification, VII. 323 ; IX.
773.
Cordova, in Spain, VII. 323—Moorish
academy at, VI. 343—Moorisli rulers
of, XX. 494.
 , in La Plata, XVIII. 7.
 — (General), XX. 512.
Corduan lighthouse, XX. 16, 18, 24.
Cordus (Valerius), VII. 324.
Cordwainers, VII. 324.
Cordyla, insect, IX. 263.
Cordylura, insect, IX. 285.
Cordylus, reptile, XIX. 142.
Core, in veterinary science, XXI. 620.
Corea, VII. 324—language of, XIII. 91.
Coregonus, fish, XII. 211.
Coreia, ancient festival, VII. 324.
Corella, Spanish town, VII. 324.
Corelli (Arcangelo), VII. 324.
Corethra, insect, IX. 259.
44
INDEX.
COR
Coreus, insect, IX. 196.
Corfao, VII. 325.
Corfe-Castle, VII. 325.
Corfu, Ionian island, VII. 325 ; XII.
340—plague in, XVII. 777.
Corgo, island, VII. 326.
Coria, Spanish town, VII. 326.
Coriacese, insects, IX. 292.
Coriariese, in botany, V. 105.
Coricus, fish, XII. 196.
Coridor, VII. 326.
Corigliano, VII. 326.
Coringa, in Hindustan, VII. 326.
Corinjah, in Hindustan, VII. 326.
Corinna, VII. 326.
Corinth, VII. 326—ruins at. III. 414—
war with the Carthaginians in Sicily,
VI. 186; XXI. 56—plundered by the
Romans, XIX. 388—defeat of the
Corinthians by the Thebans under
Epaminondas, XXI. 196.
— (Isthmus of), VII. 328; X. 723.
Corinthian brass, V. 186.
 order of architecture, III. 473—
its origin, 416—Roman, 418, 443,447
—Romans fond of, 418—modern Ita¬
lian, 425, 451—Greek, 435, 440—re¬
marks on, III. 460.
Corio (Bernardino), VII. 328.
 , Italian town, VII. 328,
Coriolanus (Caius Marcius), VIL 328;
XIX. 372.
Coriolis on the law of the relation be¬
tween the temperature and force of
steam, XX. 595.
Corion of the skin, II. 750 ; XVII. 606
—of mucous membrane, II. 752.
Corixa, insect, IX. 200.
Cork, VII. 328—specific gravity of, XII.
28—suberin, VI. 480.
Cork-jacket, VII. 328 ; XIII. 323.
Cork, in Ireland, VII. 329—taken by
William the Third, XII. 377—cove of,
VII. 434.
 (Earls of). See Boyle.
Corleone, Italian city, VII. 332.
Cormac, Irish king, XII. 35,1.
Cormontaigne on fortification, IX. ,7.70
—his system, 774.
Cormorant, XVI. 633.
Corn, VII. 332—nqt eaten by ants, HI-
241, 242. See Corn-laws, Corn-trade,
Barley, Wheat, &c.
Corns In horses’feet, XXI. 618.
;Corn-crake, bird, XVI. 627.
Corn-Exchange, London, IV. 302.
Corn-Laws, VII. 333 ; II. 254, 258 ;
IV. 301; XVIII. 302—their effects
on agriculture, VIII. 767—act of Par¬
liament in 1814, V. 539—Lord Lon¬
donderry’s act in 1823, 557—modify¬
ing acts in 1826, 566—Mr Canning’s
bill in 1827, 570—act in 1828, 572.
■ Corn-trade, VIII. 333—British, 354,
783—foreign, 362—of London, XIII.
506.
Cornage, Vli. 365.
Cornarists, VII. 365.
Cornarics (John), VIL 365.
Cornaro (Luigi), VII. 365.
Cornea of the eye, II. 798 ; III. 23.
Corneae, in "botany, V. 115.
Corneille (Peter), VII. 365—Boileau’s
■kindness to, IV. 738—his dramas,
VIII. 159, 165; I. 135—contrasted
with Shakspeare, 168.
 (Michael), VII. 366.
 (Thomas), VII. 365.
Cornelia, VII. 366.
.Cornelian, V. 786—mines of, in Hindus¬
tan, XI. 385.
;Cornet, VII. 366.
Corneus, VII. 366.
Cornice, III. 461, 465 — cornices .on
houses recommended, V. 671 — re¬
marks on, 676—plaster cornices in
rooms, 680—Doric, III. 4 38, 450-
Ionic, 439, 449—Corinthian, 441, 448.
—Caryatic, 441.
■Cornicularius, VIJ. 366.
Cornu Ammonis, VII. 366; XV. 345.
Cornucopia, VII. 366.
Cornwall, VII. 366 — .D,r Rorlase’s
COR
works on, V. 7—Carew’s Survey of,
VI. 140—fisheries of, IX. 603-tin-
mines of, XV. 246 — copper-mines,
247, 276; and their produce, VII. 312
—rocking stones in, XX. 736.
Cornwallis (Charles, Lord), VII. 369
—his surrender to the Americans, V.
417, 420-1—his war against Tippoo
Sahib, 462—his government in India,
XI. 428, 437, 448, 451—his govern¬
ment of Ireland, XII. 386.
Corolla, VII. 370; III. 95,96; V. 39,42.
Corollary, VII. 370 ; X. 433; XIII.
445.
Corollist.*, VII. 370.
COROLLULA, VII. 370.
Coromandel, VII. 370; IV. 570.
Corona,in botany, VII. 372—Australis
and Borealis, constellations, ib.—in
architecture. III. 466.
Coronse, in chromatics, VL 640.
Coronach, VII. 372.
Coronation, VII. 373—oath, XII. 724.
Coronella, serpents, XX. 138.
Coronelli (Vincent), VII. 373.
Coroner, VII. 373.
Coronets, in heraldry, XL 256.
Coronis, insect, IX. 243.
Coronula, in conchology, XV. 340.
Corporal, VII. 373, 374.
Corporation, VII. 374, 180—civic, VI.
707,
 Act, attempts in 1787 and 1790
to get it repealed, V. 443, 457—re¬
peal of, 573.
Corporeal, VII. 376.
Corporeity, VIL 376.
Corpulency, VII. 376.
Corpus Christi, VII. 376.
Corpuscle,-VII. 376.
Corpuscular philosophy, VII. 376.
Corradini di Sezza (P. M.), VII. 376.
Corrado (Sebastian), VII. 376.
Correa de Serra, V. 82.
Correction, in printing, VII. 376.
 house, VII. 376.
CORREGIDOR, VII. 376.
Correggio, Italian city, VII. 376.
Corregio, painter, II. 521—his style,
III. 647, 657 ; XVI. 719.
Correlative, VII. 376.
Correze, in France, VII. 376.
Corrib (Lough), X. 303.
 river navigation, XVI. 22.
Corridor, VII. 326.
Corrientes, town, VII. 377—province
of La Plata, XVIII. 7.
Corrira, bird, XVI. 620.
Corrosion, VII. 377.
Corrosive sublimate, VI. 417—poison¬
ing with, XIV. 501.
Corrupticul®, sect, VII. 377.
Corruption, VIL 377—of blood, ib.
Corsair, VII. 377—Algerine, II. 509.
Corsee, in Hindustan, VII. 377.
Corselet, or Corslet, VII. 377.
Corsham, town fin Wilts, VII. 377.
Corsica, VII. 377—Boswell’s visit to,
V. 27—reduced by the Romans, VI.
191; by the French, X. 37—language
of, XIH. 88—penal code, XVIII. 735
—weights and measures, XXI. 852—
map of, Vol. X. Plate CCL-2. See
Theodore, XXI. 200.
Corsican moss, V. 138.
Corsned, VII. 3-78.
CoRSTORPHINE, VII. 378.
Cort (Cornelius), VII. 378.
Corte, in Corsica, VII. 378.
Cortereal, exploratory voyages of, X.
399 ; XVIII. 216.
Cortes of Spain, VII. 878; XX. 500—
new constitution of the, 506, 508,
513.
 (Hernan.), VII. 378 ; XIV. 766.
  (Martin), his treatise on navi¬
gation, XV. 74.6.
Cortical texture in plants, III. 63. See
Bark.
  substance of the brain. See
Cineritious, Brain.
Corticus, insect, IX. 164.
CORTOMARK, VII. 380.
COR—COT
CORUMBAH, VIL 380.
Coruna tower, XX. 15.
Corundum, a mineral, VII. 380 ; XV.
1 55—specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Corunna, VII. 380—Sir John Moore’s
retreat to, V. 525; XV. 453; XXI.
736—battle of, V. 525.
Corus, VII. 381.
Coruscation, VII. 381.
Corvee system of taxation, XXI, 100—
its abolition, 410.
Corvina, fish, XII. 175.
Corvo, island, IV. 264.
Corvorant. See Cormorant.
Corvus, VII. 381—bird, XVI. 583.
Corwen, town in Wales, VII. 381.
Coryate (Thomas), VII. 381.
Corybantes, VII. 381, 550, 573, 582.
CORYBANTICA, VII. 381.
CORYCEUM, VII. 381.
CORYCOMACHIA, VII. 381.
Corydalin, VI. 468.
Corydalis, insect, IX. 213,
CoRYMBITTM, VII. 382.
Corymbus, VII. 382; V. 40.
Coryphaena, fish, XII. 186.
Cory ph as us, VIL 382.
Corystes, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Corythaix, bird, XVI. 603.
Corythus, bird, XVI. 582.
Coryvreckan, whirlpool, VII. 382.
Coryza, VII. 382.
Corzola, or Curzola, VII. 557.
Cos, VI. 294—reduced by Mithridates,
XVIII. 351—silk-worm of, XX. 350.
Cosah, river, VII. 382.
Coscinomancy, VII. 382.
Cosdroes, king of Parthia, XVII. 105.
Cosecant, VII. 382; XXI. 370.
Cosening, VII. 382.
Cosenza, Italian city, VII. 382.
Cosfeld. See Kosfeld.
Coshering, VII. 382.
Cosine, VIL 382; XXL 370.
Cosmas, navigator, II. 51.
Cosme (Frfere Jean de St), XX. 830.
Cosmetic, VII. 382.
Cosmia, in botany, V. 63.
Cosmical, VIL 382.
Cosmogony, VII. 382.
Cosmography, VII. 382.
Cosmolabe, VII. 382.
Cosmologists, ancient, IV. 384.
Cosmology, VII. 382; XIV. 599.
Cosrhoes. See Chosroes.
Cosmopolite, VII. 382.
Cosne, in France, VII. 382.
Cosoceto, Italian town, VII. 383.
Cossacks, VII. 383 ; XIX. 587.
Cossato, Italian town, VII. 383.
Cosse de Geniste, VII. 383.
Cosseir, trade of, VIII. 526.
Cossimbazar, VII. 383.
Cossimcotta, VII. 383.
Cossonus, insect, IX. 175.
Cossus, insect, IX. 245.
Cossyphenes, insects, IX. 165.
Cossyphus, insect, IX. 165.
Costa (Christopher), VII. 383.
 Rica, VII. 383; X|. 17, 19.
Costal, VII. 384.
Costanzo (Angelo di), VII. 384.
Costard (George), VII. 384.
Coster (Laurence), his claim to the in¬
vention of printing, IV. 622.
Costiveness, VII. 562—among the do¬
mestic animals, XXI. 623.
Cot, or Cott, VII. 386.
Cota (Rodriguez), VII. 384.
Cotangent, VIL 384 ; XXL 370.
Cotatis in Immeritia, XII. 254.
Cotchung, in Persia, VII. 384.
Cote-caungra, VIL 384.
Cote d’ or, VII. 384.
Cotelerius (John Baptist), VII. 385.
Coterellus, VII. 385.
Coterie, VII. 385.
Cotes (Roger), VII. 385—his work upon
the new analysis of Newton, I. 531 
mathematical discoveries of, 576 
his life and character, 598.
Cotesian Theorem, II. 499.
Coteswold, VIL 385.
COT—COU
Cotho, taken by the Romans, VI. 205.
Cothual (Joseph), II. 539.
Cothurnus, VII. 385.
Cothy, river, V. 771.
Cotice, in heraldry, VII. 385.
Cotignac, French town, VIL 385.
Cotillon, VII. 385.
Cotinga, bird, XVI. 570.
Cotiote, in Hindustan, VIL 385.
Cotopaxi, VII. 386.
Cotrone, Italian city, VII. 386.
Cott, or Cot, VIL 386.
Cotta, his expedition against Mithri¬
dates, XVIII. 353.
COTTACOTTA, VII. 386.
Cottapatam, VII. 386.
Cottage, VII. 386—farm cottage, II.
273—ornamental, X. 337.
Cottage-farms, disadvantages of, II. 346.
Cottage System, VIL 386.
Cottagers, agricultural, II. 347.
Cotte (Mons.), on the moon’s influence
on weather, XV. 442.
Cottee, in Hindustan, VIL 394.
Cotterel’s blast-furnace, XVIII. 129-30.
Cottian Alps, II. 558.
Cottin (Madame), character of her no¬
vels, XIX. 355.
Cotting sheep, II. 329.
Cottiwar, in Hindustan, VIL 394.
Cotton (Charles), VII. 423—on angling,
III. 135, n„ 149.
 (General), IV. 248.
 (Nathaniel), VII. 424.
  (Sir Robert), VII. 423—his
MSS., XIII. 295.
 des Houssayes, VII. 424.
Cotton, VIL 395—bleaching of, IV.
682—dyes worse than silk and wool,
VIII. 298, 301—structure of, 301—
dyeing of, ib.—method of dyeing it
red, VIII. 316 ; yellow, 323 ; blue,
327 ; black, 330 ; green, 334 ; violet,
336 ; orange, 337 ; mixtures of black,
&c-, 338—paper made from, XVII. 8
—its culture in Bengal, IV. 565 ;
Bourbon, V. 151 ; Brazil, 206-7 ;
Egypt, VIII. 525 ; Greece, X. 724,
730; Louisiana, XIII, 571; Mexico,
XIV. 801 ; Asiatic Russia, XIX. 589;
the United States, XXI. 463—silk
cotton tree, VII. 707.
Cotton-goods, decline of real and in¬
crease of official value of, VIII. 785
—cause offallin price of, XVIII. 289.
Cotton manufacture, VII. 395—his¬
tory of, X. 554—Arkwright’s improve¬
ments in, III. 568 ; V. 429—of Antrim,
III. 275; Bengal, IV. 567; Dacca, VIL
580 ; Derbyshire, 736; Dublin, VIII.
247; Egypt, 525; England, 772-5 ;
Germany, X. 489 ; Glasgow, 554 ;
Ireland, XII. 404; Lowell, XIV. 304;
Manchester, 216, et seq. ; Scotland,
XIX. 768 ; the United States, XXL
464—are the British likely to retain
their pre-eminence in it ? VIII. 775,
See Calender, Spinning, Weaving.
Cotton-spinners, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Cotton-trade of Egypt, VIII. 524 —
table of exports of cotton goods from
England, 774,
Cottonian MSS., XIII. 295.
Cottus, fish, XII. 173.
Cotula, or Cotyla, VII. 424.
Coturnix, bird, XVI. 611.
Cotyledons, in botany, III. 72, 74 ; V.
51; XXL 567.
Cotyloid, cavity, II. 767,
Cotys, VII. 424.
COTYTTO, VII. 424.
Couch, in painting, VII. 424.
Couchant, in heraldry, VII. 424.
Couche, in heraldry, VII. 424.
Coueron, French town, VII. 424.
Cough, a symptom of various diseases,
XVII. 483, 476—chronic cough in tlia
domestic animals, XXI. 631.
Coulan, in Hindustan, VII. 424.
Coulomb (Cha. Augustin), VII. 424;
I. 626—on electricity, VIII. 573, 581,
586, 588, 590—his torsion balance,
586—on hydrodynamics, I. 610; XIL
INDEX,
45
cou—cow
3, 76—on magnetism, I. 626, 627 ;
XIII. 690, 705, 710, 71&, 724, 757,
758, 763, 764—on mechanics, XIV.
354—on the force of torsion, ib., 401
—on elasticity and cohesion in metals,
402—on friction, 407, et seq.—on
human strength, 426—on the power
of windmills, 434.
Coulommiers, in France, VII. 429.
Coulter (Dr), on California, XIV. 820.
Council, various kinds of, VII. 429—
ecclesiastical, XI. 489.
Counsel, VII. 430. See Advocate.
Counsellor, VII. 430.
Count, VII. 430.
Counter, VII. 431—Counter-Changed
—Flory—Drawing— Foil—Guard —
I/ight—March—Mine—Paled—Part—
Passant—Pointed—Proof—Quartered
—Salient, ib.—Time, 432.
Counter-ermine, VII. 431; XI. 245.
Counter-point, in music, VII. 431—
double, XV. 638.
Counterpotance. of a watch, VI. 786.
Counterscarp, VII. 431; IX. 772.
Countersigning, VII. 432.
Counter-timbers, XX. 277, 283.
CounTors, VII. 432.
Country, VII. 432—love of, XV. 477.
Country dance, VII. 432, 615.
County, VII. 432.
Coupar. See Cupar.
Couplet, VII. 432.
  (Mons.), on centres, VI. 282—
his hydraulic experiments, XII. 70—
on the line of traction, XIV. 441.
Courage not identical with prudence, I.
379—observations on, 380—why so
highly esteemed, VIII. 28.
Courant, VII. 432.
Courayer (Peter Francis), VII. 432.
CouRigRS, VII. 432—ancient, III. 126.
Courland, VII. 433; XVIII. 212.
Courpiere, French city, VII. 433.
Court, VII. 433—Courts of Justice in
England, IX. 29. See France, Scot¬
land, Ireland, &c.
Court-Martial, VII. 433; XV. 67;
XVI. 54.
Courtesy, duty of, XV. 474.
Courtezans, the London theatres in¬
fested by, VIII. 179—of ancient
Athens, XX. 437, 439.
Courthezon, French city, VII. 433.
Courtray, VII. 433.
Cousin, VII. 433.
Coutances, in France, VII. 433.
Couthutlaugh, VII. 434.
Coutinho (Vasco Fernandez), V. 189.
  (Francisco Pereira), V. 189.
Coutras, French city, VII. 434.
Covadonga, IV. 112.
Cove, Irish town, VII. 434.
Covelong, VII. 434.
Covenant, in theology, VII. 434—be¬
tween God and man, an improper ex¬
pression, XXI. 214, n.
• , in Scotch ecclesiastical history,
VII. 434 ; V. 316, 325.
— (Solemn League and), VII. 434.
Covenanters (Scotch), V. 349, et seq.
353.
Covent Garden market, XIII. 507—
theatre, 533; XXI. 193-4—buildings
in, XIII. 545.
Coventry, VII. 434—canal, XVI. 11
—manufactures of, XXI. 782.
 (Sir John), VI. 616.
Coverdale (Miles), his Bible, IV. 618.
Covered-way, in fortification, IX. 773.
Coveripank, in India, VII. 434.
Coveriporam, in India, VII. 434.
Covert, VII. 434—way, ib.
Coverture, in law, VII. 434.
Covilham (Peter), II. 52 ; X. 307.
Covin, VII. 434.
Coving, in building, VII. 434.
Covington, in Kentucky, XII. 699.
Covinus, VII. 434.
Cow, XIV. 166—effect of regular milk¬
ing on the productiveness of cows, II.
653—milk of, VI. 498 ; XV. 75. See
Dairy.
cow—CRA
Coward, in heraldry, VII. 434.
CowbridGe, Welsh town, VII. 434.
Cowdee-timber, XXI. 296, 309.
Cowel (Dr John), VII. 435.
Cowes, VII. 435 ; XXL 882.
Cowl, or Coul, VII. 435.
 Doorg, in Hindustan, VII. 435.
Cowley (Abraham), VII. 435—remarks
on his ode entitled Destiny, I. 270—
poetry of, XVIII. 170.
Cow-pen, bird, XVI. 582.
Cowper (William), VII. 436—his opi¬
nion of Barclay’s Argenis, IV. 376—
poetry of, XVIII. 173.
 (Wm.), anatomist, II. 701—on
the erectile tissue, 725.
Cowper’s glands, II. 825.
 printing-machine, XVIII. 571.
Cow-pox, XXI. 535, 536.
Cowry, bird, XVI. 568.
Cox (Richard), VII. 438.
Cox (Ross), his account of Oregon Terri¬
tory, XVI. 525.
Coxachie, or Cocksackie, VII. 439.
Coxal bones, II. 767.
Coxe’s Island, VII. 438.
Coypel (Anthony), VII. 438.
Cozening, VII. 439.
CoziQuiRiACHi(SantaRosade), VII. 439.
Cozumel, island, VII. 439.
Crabs, VII. 501.
Crab Island, XXI. 660.
Crab’s eyes, VII. 499.
Crabbe (George), VII. 439.
Crabro, insect, IX. 230.
Crabronites, insects, IX. 230.
Cracatoa, island, VII. 440.
Cracow, VII. 440—library of, XIII.
315—republic of, XVIII. 211, 212—
uniyersity of, 213—taken by Charles
the Twelfth, XXL 22.
Cradock (Mr), on ship-building, XX.
243—on fir-timber, XXI. 295-6—his
measurements of merchant-shipping,
330-3.
Craig (John), VII. 440.
 — (SXu Thomas), VII. 440 ; V. 631.
Craigleith quarry, VIII. 430.
Crail, in Fifeshire, VII. 443.
Crambus, insect, IX. 252.
Cramer (Dr), on the geometric proper¬
ties of bees’ combs, IV. 526—on mor¬
tality at Geneva, XV. 534.
Crameric acid, VI. 430.
Cramond, Scotch village, VII. 444.
Cramp, XVII. 132—of the stomach,
among animals, XXI. 623.
Cramponee, in heraldry, VII. 444.
Cranage, VII. 444.
Cranberry, culture of, XL 652.
Cranborne, in Dorsetshire, VII. 444.
Cranbrook, in Kent, VII. 444.
Cranchia, mollusca, XV. 353.
Crane, bird, XVI. 617.
 , in mechanics, XIV. 431—fixed
iron crane, 458—revolving jib, 459.
Cranganore, in India, VII. 444.
Crania, in conchology, XV. 344.
Craniology, XVII. 454.
Cranium. See Skull.
Crank, VII. 444—its use in machinery,
XIV. 446—Watt’s application of it to
steam-engines, XX. 640 — described,
653 — analysis of its action, 654—
combination of two at right angles,
655—analysis of the action of com¬
bined cranks, 656 — effect of the
crank-rod on the crank’s action, ib.—
fallacies concerning it, 666—its prac¬
tical working, 669.
Cranmer (Tho.l, VII. 444 ; VIII. 745,
751, 753—his Bible, IV. 618—his de¬
gradation, VII. 678.
Cranny, in glass-making, VII. 449.
Crantara, VII. 449.
Crantor, Greek philosopher, VII. 449,
Craon, French city, VII. 449.
Craonne, battle of, X. 167.
Crape, VII. 449.
Craponne, canal of, XVI. 5,
Crashaw (Richard), VII. 449.
Crasis, VII. 449.
Craspedosoma, in entomology, XV. 653.
CRA—CRE
Crassamentum of blood, Vi. 493, 494.
Crassatella, in conchology, XV. 341.
Crassulacece, in botany, V. 112.
Crassus (M. L.), VII. 449; XIX. 395—
his expedition against the Parthians,
XVII. 100, 260.
Crata:gus, species of trees, XVII. 788.
Crater, in astronomy, VII. 449—of vol¬
cano, 450 ; XVII. 512.
Craterus, XIII. 641.
 Macedo, antiquary, XII. 292.
Crates, Greek philosopher, VII. 450.
Cratinus, comic poet, VII. 450.
Cratippus, philosopher, VII. 450.
Cratistus, geometer, X. 424.
Cratylus, HI. 496.
Craufurd (J.), on the origin of the po¬
pulation of the Indian Archipelago,
III. 692—his account of Ava, IV. 240-
9—his embassy to Cochin China, VII.
14; and to Siam, XX. 324—his ac¬
count of the Javanese, XII. 532.
Cravant, VII. 450—centre employed
for the bridge of, VI. 284.
Crawfish, VII. 502.
Crawford (Adair), physician, VII. 450
—on heat, XI. 192.
 (John), VII. 451.
 (Dr Stewart), VII. 451.
Crawfurd (David), his forged Memoirs
of James VI., XIII. 24.
Crawhall’s rope-machine, XIX. 469.
Crawley (Sir Francis), XXI. 724.
Crawley-spring, near Edinburgh, III.
321; VIII. 427 ; XVII. 527.
Crax, bird, XVI. 605.
Crayer (Caspar de), VII. 451.
Crayon, VII. 451—Painting, ib.
Creadon, bird, XVI. 573.
Cream, VII. 454; VI. 498. See Dairy.
 of tartar, its use in dyeing, VIII.
302.
Great, VII. 454.
Creation, VII. 454 ; XXL 206—era
of the, VI. 656—possible to omnipo- i
tence, XIV. 697—of a material sys¬
tem probable, ib.
Crebillon (Elias P. J.), character of his
novels, XIX. 354.
 (Prosper Jolyot de), VII. 457.
Credentials, VII. 457.
Credibility, VII. 457.
Credit, VII. 457—bad effects of long
credits, 170.
Crediton, in Devonshire, VII. 460.
Creditor, VII. 460.
Credulity, VII. 460.
Cree, river, XVI. 182—its navigation,
XVI. 11.
Creech (Thomas), VII. 460-.
  (William), XX. 402.
Creed, VII. 460—the Apostles’, III. 292
—Athanasian, IV. 113—creeds reject¬
ed by the Independents, XII. 261—Dr
Taylor on, ib.
 (Tho.), printer, XVIII. 554.
Creek, in geography, X. 407.
Creeks of North America, II. 619.
Creeper, bird, XVI. 588.
Crefeld, in Prussia, VII. 461.
Creighton (Wm.), on the law of the re¬
lation between the temperature and
force of steam, XX. 595.
Crellius (John), VII. 461.
Crema, in Lombardy, VII. 461.
Cremastocheilus, insect, IX. 161.
Cremation, VII. 461.
Cremoearpium, in botany, V. 49,
Cremona, in Lombardy, VII. 461—
school of painting of, XVI. 720.
Crenatula, in conchology, XV. 343.
Crenelle, in heraldry, VII. 461.
Crenilabrus, fish, XII. 195.
Crenophylax, VII. 461.
Creoceris, insect, IX. 181.
Creodiba, VII, 461.
Creoles, VII. 461—of Mexico, XIV.
809. See Bolivia, &c.
Creon, VII. 461.
Creones, VI. 2.
Crepance, VII. 461.
Crepidje, VII. 461.
Crepidula, in conchology, XV. 349, 364.
Cue—cro
Crepundia, VII. 462.
Crepuscularia, insects, IX. 243.
Crepusculum, VII. 462.
Cres, VII. 463.
Crescent, VII. 462—Island, ib.
Crescentino, Italian town, VII. 462.
Crescimbeni (John M.), VII. 462.
Cress, culture of, XI. 675.
Cressy, French town, VII. 462—battle
of, VI. 606 ; VIII. 728 ; X. 17-
archers at battle of, III. 398.
Crest, in armoury, VII. 462.
Crests, in heraldry, VII. 463 ; XI. 258.
Cretaceous system, in geology, XV. 207.
Crete, VII. 463 ; X. 746, 748—castes
in, VI. 221—DactyU Idsei, VII. 582r
See Candia.
Cretio, VII. 466.
Creux, in sculpture, VII. 466.
Creusa, VII. 467.
Creuse, in France, VII. 467.
Crevier (J. B. L.), VII. 467.
Crewkerne, in Somerset, VII. 467.
Crex, bird, XVI. 627.
Crib, VII. 467—crib-biting, a disease of
horses, XXI. 623.
Cricelasia, VII. 467.
Cricetus, in zoology, XIV. 134.
Crichton (George), VII. 469, n.
 (James), VII. 467.
 (Mr), on the pyrometer, XVIII.
753.
 Church and Castle, XVII. 120.
Cricket, game of, XI. 96.
 , insect, IX. 191.
Cricklade, in Wiltshire, VII. 471.
Cricoid cartilage, II. 805.
Crieff, in Perthshire, XVII. 291.
Crim Tartars, VII. 471. See Crimea.
Crime,Beccaria on,IV. 503.—punishment
of, XII. 640; XIV. 512; in China,
VI. 555—prevention of, XVIII. 248
—prisons, 574—benefit of clergy, VI.
739—penal colonies, VII. 116—par-
don, XVII. 68—crime in England and
Wales, VIII. 801-3; France, X. 218 ;
Glasgow, X. 541; India, XL 451;
Ireland, XII. 423; London, XIII. 529;
Manchester, XIV. 227 ; the Papal
States, XIX. 438 ; Scotland, XIX. 760;
Spain, XX. 522. See Criminal, Par¬
don, Police, Prisons, Punishments.
Crimea, or Crim Tartary, VII. 471;
XIX. 569—coasts of, IV. 661.
Criminal law of England, IX. 29, 33—
Sir James Mackintosh’s bills for its
improvement, V. 554, 559 — acts
passed, 559. See Crime.
Crimping of fish, IX. 726.
Crimson, mode of dyeing wool, VIII.
314 ; and cotton, 319.
Crinan Canal, XVI. 11.
Crinoidea, zoophytes, XXL 1012.
Criocerides, insects, IX. 181.
Crispe (Sir Nicholas), XXI. 724.
Crispin and Crispianus, VII. 473.
Critkomancy, VII. 473.
Critias, VII. 473; IV. 160 ; XX. 449.
Criticism, VII. 473.
Crito, Athenian philosopher, VII. 473
—friendship between him and Socra¬
tes, XX. 438, 445, 459, 460.
Critolaus of Tegea, VII. 473.
Croatia, VII. 473 ; IV. 225.
Crocisa, insect, IX. 234.
Crocodile, XIX. 133—bones of its head,
III. 14.—its power of resisting star¬
vation, 167—lethargy or summer sleep
of, 168—its structure, XVII. 713.
Crocodilopolis, VIII. 545,
Croconic acid, VI. 429.
Crqssus, VII. 474 ; XL 472 ; XIII. 608.
Croisers, religious order, VII. 475.
Croises, pilgrims, VII. 475.
Croix (F. P.de la), VII. 475^
Crollius (Oswald), VI. 347.
Cromarty, VII. 475 ; XIX. 483—Firth
of, VII. 476 ; XIX. 48-3 —fishery,
487 ; IX. 601.
Cromer, town in Norfolk, 476.
 (Archbishop), XII. 362;
Cromford Canal, XVI. 11.
Cromlech, VII. 476 ; III. 40?
46
INDEX
CRO—CRU
Crompton (Samuel), X. 555—-his mule-
jenny, VII. 402; XX. 587.
Cromwell (Henry), his government of
Ireland, XII. 373.
 -(Oliver), VII.476; V.162, 315,
325, et seg.—invested with the su¬
preme command, 330—his military
exploits in Ireland, 334 ; XII. 371;
and in Scotland, V. 335—defeats the
king at Worcester, 336—dissolves the
Long Parliament, 337 —is declared
Protector, 338—his death, 339—cha¬
racter, ib.; XV. 100, n.—indignities
to his remains, V. 342—weight of his
brain, II. 807—his agricultural im¬
provements, XVI. 120 — his navy,
XVI. 41 ; XX. 224.
 (Richard), VII. 479 ; V. 340.
 (Tho.) VII. 476 ; VIII. 747, 749.
Cronhelm (F. W.), his work on book¬
keeping, IV. 791.
Cronius, in chronology, VII. 479.
Cronoberg, VII. 479.
Cronstadt, VII. 479, 480 ; IV. 330 ;
XVII. 316.
Crop of birds, III. 36.
 of insects, IX. 85.
Crops, different kinds of, II. 279—suc¬
cession of, 297.
Crosier, or Crozier, VII. 480.
Croslet, in heraldry, VII. 480.
Cross, VII. 480—perspective of, XVII.
281—Invention of the, VII. 481—Ex¬
altation of the, ib.—Pectoral, ib.—
Order of the, ib.—Maids of the, ib.—
St George’s, ib.
 , in heraldry, VII. 481 ; XL 250.
Cross-bearer, VII. 481.
Cross-bill, bird, XVI. 581.
Cross-how, V. 155.
Cross-stone, XV. 151.
Crosse (Andrew), on the electricity of
the air, VIII. 615—his electro-chemi¬
cal researches, XXI. 680.
Crossing of species, III. 161—of breeds
of dogs, XX. 310.
Crotalem, VII. 481.
Crotalus, serpent, XX. 151.
Crotalystri®, VII. 482.
Crotchet, VII. 483.
Croto or Crotona, VII. 483; XV. 699
—Academy of Antiquities at, II. 75.
Crotonic acid, VI. 430.
Crotophaga, birds, XVI. 599.
Crouch river navigation, XVI. 11.
Crousaz (J. P. de), VII. 482—influence
of Locke’s doctrine on, I. 106 — his
principles mistaken by Pope and War-
burton, ib.—Gibbon’s estimate of his
talents, ib.—on beauty, IV. 485.
Crow, bald, XVI. 569 ; carrion, 584 ;
hooded, ib.; red-legged, 591—instance
of reasoning in one, XII. 299, n.
• , in mechanics, VII. 482.
Crow’s bill, VII. 482.
 feet, VII. 482 ; IX. 786.
Crowgarth, iron mine at, VII. 537.
Crowland, VII. 482; XIII. 353.
Cuowle, in Lincolnshire, VII. 482.
Crown, VII. 483—in heraldry, XI. 256.
Crown-glass, X. 566.
Crown-w heel of a clock, VI. 768.
Crowne (John), VII. 483.
Growth, VII. 504.
Croxal (Samuel), VII. 483.
Croy, or Crouy, island, VII. 483.
Croydon, in Srfrrey, VII. 483—canal
XVI. 11 ; XX. 847.
———, in Indiana, XII. 266.
Crozier, or Crosier, VII. 480.
Cruces, town, XVI. 784.
Cruciferas, in botany, V. 97.
Crucifix, VII. 483.
Crucifixion, VII. 483, 480.
Cruciform, VII. 483.
Cruelty to animals, III. 165.
Cruikshank on the lymphatic vessels,
II. 703, 729, 730.
Cruikshanks (Mr), of Woolwich, his gal¬
vanic battery, XXI. 666.
Crum (Walter), on bleaching-powder,
IV. 686—on indigo, VIII. 325.
Cruppan, a disease of cattle, VIII. 1J3.
CRU—CUD
Crusades, VII. 484 ; VI. 595 ; VII.
286 ; VIII. 479, et seq. 719 ; XI.
482 ; XVI. 755, et seq.—licentious
morals introduced by the, VI. 600
—their influence on geography, X.
397—their effects in Italy, XII. 472.
Crusaders, Gothic architecture probably
introduced by them from the East,
III. 420—their armies, 595—their
operations in Egypt, VIII. 479, et seq.
—their wars with Saladin, 481, et seq.
—were the first Europeans who saw
Negroes, XX. 383—probably intro¬
duced sugar into Europe, 791.
CruscA, VII. 496.
Crushes in collieries, VII. 80.
Crustacea, VII. 497; XVII. 587—
distinguished from arachnides, III.
347—structure of, XVII. 720.
Crutches, in shipbuilding, XX. 284.
Cruth, or Growth, VII. 504.
Cruveilbier (M.), on latent cerebral dis¬
ease, XVII. 478—on aneurism, 482.
Cruz (La), on the hydrography of La
Plata, XVIII. 5.
Cruzado, VII. 504.
Cryolite, a mineral, VII. 504 ; XV.
140—specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Cryophorus, VII. 504 ; XI. 191.
Crypta, VII. 505.
Crypticus, insect, IX. 164.
Cryptocephalus, insect, IX. 183.
Cryptocerus, insect, IX. 228.
Cryptogamia, VII. 505.
Cryptogamous plants, V. 53.
Cryptography, VII. 505.
Cryptonyx, bird, XVI. 611.
Cryptopoda, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Cryptops, insect, XV. 655.
Cryptusa, insects, IX. 223.
Crystal, or flint-glass, X. 577.
Crystals, VII. 505—of ice, XII. 140—
their property of dividing rays of
light, XIII. 332—double refraction
of, XVI. 359, 368, 453, et seq. ; XVIII.
225, 241—refraction of Iceland crys¬
tal, XIV. 70.
Crystalline, VII. 505—heavens, ib.
  lens of the eye, II. 799 ; XVI.
368—in various animals, III. 22—
specific gravity of, XII. 28—fibrous
structure of, XV. 56.
Crystallization, VII. 505 — system
and series of, XV. 122.
Crystallography, XV. 112, et seq.
Cshatriyas, caste, VI. 224 ; XI. 402.
Ctenieer, insect, IX. 140.
Ctenistes, insect, IX. 187.
Ctenodes, insects, IX. 178.
Ctenophora, insects, IX. 261.
Ctenus, genus of arachnides, III. 362.
Ctesias, Greek physician, VII. 524—his
skill in surgery, XX. 822.
Ctesibius, VII. 524—hydrodynamical
inventions of, XII. 1. 96, 108—his
pump, XVIII. 707.
Ctesiphon, architect, VII. 524.
Cub, VII. 524.
Cuba, VII. 524—French trade with, X.
191—weights and measures of, XXI.
852.
Cube, VII. 527 ; X. 460—duplication of
the, XIV. 314—perspective of, XVII.
278.
Cube iron-ore and spar, specific gravity
of, XII. 28.
Cube-root, VII. 527—extraction of the,
III. 566—its extraction discovered by
the Arabians, I. 583.
Cubic equations, II. 454.
Cubit, VII. 527 ; VIII. 509.
 , bone, II. 787.
Cuchullin hills, in Skye, XX. 380.
Cucking-stool, VII. 527.
Cuckoo, XVI 597.
Cucujus, insect, IX. 177.
Cucullsea, in conchology, XV. 343.
Cueullanus, zoophyte, XXI. 998.
Cuculus, bird, XVI. 597.
Cucumber, culture of the, XI. 666.
Cucurbit, VII. 527.
Cucurbitaceae, in botany, V. 110.
Cudbear, VI. 484 ; VIII. 309, 310,
CUD—CUN
CUDDALORE, VII. 527.
Cuddapah, or Curpa, VII. 527.
Cuddy, VII. 527.
Cudworth (Ralph), VII. 527—on moral
distinctions, I. 20—was the first suc¬
cessful antagonist of Hobbes, 43—on
perception, ib.—influence of his prin¬
ciples on theories of morals, 44—his
Intellectual System, ib., 325—his un¬
published MSS., 192—his Treatise on
Eternal and Immutable Morality, 326
—on angels. III. 295, n.—on matter,
XIV. 645, n.—on the- substance of
mind, 675, 678—on atheism, 693—on
creation, 698—on the story of Pan’s
death, XVI. 781—on the Lord’s Sup¬
per, XX. 818—his superstition, 813.
Cuenca,. VII. 528 ; XVIII. 798.
Cuenza, or Bamba, VII. 528.
Cuerenhert (Theodore Van), VII. 528.
Cuerpo, VII. 529.
Cufa, VII. 529.
Cuff (Henry), VII. 529.
Cuirass and Cuirassiers, VII. 529.
Cujas, or Cujacius (James), civilian,
VII. 529—his editions of the Theodo-
sian Code, VI. 715—Fabrot’s edition
of his works, IX. 474.
Culdees, VII. 532; XIX. 704.
Culeus, Roman measure, VII. 532.
Culex, insect, IX. 258.
Culican, a Mexican town, XIV. 818.
Cullen, town in Banffshire, VII. 532.
  (Dr William), VII. 532—on
chemistry, IV. 655; VI. 349—Brown’s
opposition to his medical doctrines,
V. 598—on Stahl’s system of medi¬
cine, XX. 559.
Cullera, Spanish city, VII. 535.
Culley (Mr), on the culture of rape, II.
290—on live-stock, 316, et seq.
Culloden, in Inverness-shire, VII. 535;
XII. 336—battle of, V. 382.
Culm, VII. 535, 80; V. 33.
Culmiferous plants, VII. 535.
Culmination, VII. 535.
Culna, town in Bengal, VII. 535.
Culpee, town in Bengal, VII. 535.
Culross, Scotch town, VII. 535.
Cultrirostres, birds, XVI. 617.
Culverin, VII. 585.
Culvertailed, VII. 535.
Cum*, ancient Italian city, VII. 535 ;
XV. 709—sibyl of, XX. 328.
Cumana, in Colombia, VII. 535.
Cumanus (Marcellus), on the venereal
disease, XX. 828, n. 3.
Cumberland, VII. 536—its annexation
to Scotland, XIX. 699.
 , a town in Maryland, VII. 538 ;
XIV. 273.
 , a river in the United States of
America, VII. 538; XXI. 182.
  (Richard), bishop of Peterbo¬
rough, VII. 538 —his work De Legibns
Naturce, I. 46, 323—the only professed
answerer of Hobbes, 323—his ethical
doctrines, 324.
 (Richard), dramatist, VII. 541
—his comedies, VIII. 176—his novels,
XIX. 341.
 (William, Duke of), his proceed¬
ings in Flanders and Scotland, V.
381-3, 385—his death, 391.
Cumbray Islands, V. 752; VII. 544.
Cumbrian rocks, XV. 191.
Cumino, XIV. 63.
Cumly, in Hindustan, VII. 544.
Gumming (Professor), on thermo-elec¬
tric rotations, XXI. 699.
 (Mr), his scapement, VI. 774—
his Elements of Clock Work, 775—on
wheel-carriages, XIV. 440.
Cumulo-stratus, cloud, XVII. 534.
Cumulus, cloud, XVII. 534.
Cundapoor, VII. 544.
CUNDINAMARCA, VII. 544.
Cundwah, in Hindustan, VII. 544.
'Cuneiform, VII. 544—bones, II. 791—
cartilages, 805.
Cuneus, VII. 544.
Cunina, goddess, VII. 544.
, Cunio, block-printing by, XVIII. 539.
CUN—CU
Cunitz, or Cunitia (Maria), VII. 544.
Cunning distinguished from discretion.
VIII. 41.
Cunningham (Alex.), civilian, VII. 544.
 (Alex.), historian, VII. 548.
 , district of, IV. 259.
Cunocephali, VII. 549.
Cunodontes, VII. 549.
Cunoniese, in botany, V. 113.
Cupar and Cupar-Angus, VII. 549.
Cuphic letters, XVII. 371.
Cupica bay, XVI. 787.
Cupid, VII. 549.
Cupola, in architecture, VII. 549 ; III,
466. See Dome.
Cuppertool, in Hindustan, VII. 549.
Cupping, VII. 550. See Bloodletting.
Cupuliferse, in botany, V. 131.
Curacao, island, VII. 550.
Curassoes, birds, XVI. 605.
Curate, VII. 550 ; VIII. 788.
Curator, VII. 550.
Curb, VII. 550—in building, V. 676—
in veterinary science, XXI. 617.
Curcas, VII. 550.
Curculio, insect, IX. 173.
Curculionites, insects, IX. 172.
Curd, VI. 498—curdling, VII. 550.
Curetes, VII. 550, 381, 463, 573, 582.
Curfew, VII. 550—bell, ib.
Curia, VII. 551.
Curtatii, three brothers of Alba, VII.
551 ; XIX. 363.
Curimata, fish, XII. 212.
Curio, VII. 551; XVI. 309 ; XIX. 396.
Curiosity, VIII. 55.
Curiosus, VII. 551.
Curisch-Haf, lake, IV. 329 ; XVIII. 691.
Curlew, bird, XVI. 622.
Cur 11, XVIII. 401, 402.
Curmi, ancient liquor, VII. 551.
Curnock, a measure, VII. 551.
Curr’s patent ropes, XIX. 465, 467.
Currah, in Hindustan, VII. 551.
Curran (John Philpot), VII. 551.
Currants, VII. 552—culture of, XI. 650 ;
in Greece, X. 727, 731; in the Ionian
Islands, XII. 342.
Currency—suppression of small notes in
1826, V. 565—its state in Locke’s
time, XIII. 414—bad effects of alte¬
rations on its value, XV. 401; XVIII.
266 —of Ava, IV. 245—Brazil, V.
209—Buenos Ayres, 652—France, X,
193—Ireland, XII. 410—the West In¬
dies, 504—Madras, XIII. 673—Mexi¬
co, XIV. 803 ; XV. 263—Peru, 263—
Prussia. XVIII. 700—Russia, XIX.
574—New South Wales, XXI. 721.
See Coin, Coinage, Commerce, Credit,
Exchange, Money, Paper-money.
Currents of the ocean, VII. 552 ; XVII.
516—arctic, XVIII. 222.
Curriculus, VII. 552.
Currie (Dr James), VII. 552 V. 601
—on bathing, IV. 443, et seq.—his
Letter to Mr Pitt, VI. 311.
Curriers, VII. 556. See Currying.
Currodrepanus, VII. 556.
Curruca, bird, XVI. 576.
Currying of leather, VII. 556.
Cursitor, VII. 557.
Cursoria, insects, IX. 189.
Cursorius, bird, XVI. 617.
Curt (Monsieur), V. 215.
Curtain, in fortification, VII. 557.
Curtis, his botanical labours, V. 84.
 (Dr), his letter to D. of Welling¬
ton on Catholic emancipation, V. 575.
Curtius (Marcus), VII. 557.
—   (Quintus), VII. 557—his ac¬
count of the Amazons, II. 589.
Curule chair, VII. 557.
Curumah, in Hindustan, VII. 557.
Curutiba, XVII. 161.
Curvature of a line, VII. 557—of the
conic sections, 254.
Curves, VII. 557—transcendental, ib.
—geometrical and algebraic, ib.; II.
483—mathematical, XIV. 319, et seq.
—caustic, VI. 252 ; XVI. 400—evo¬
lution and involution of, VIII. 382—
curve of equable approach, VII. 557
INDEX,
47
CUR—CYA
—-of the quickest descent, XIV.
383.
Curved motion, VIII. 379, et seq.
Curwen (Mr), on the effect of the cottage-
system in Ireland, VII. 390.
Ccbypum, in Hindustan, VII. 557.
Cubzola, island, VII. 557.
Cusa (Nicholas de), VII. 557—on geo¬
metry, X. 429—on the squaring of
the circle, XX. 553.
Cosco, VII. 557 ; XVII. 294, 305.
Cuscuta, in botany, V. 65.
Cosh, VII. 557.
Cushat, bird, XVI. 613.
Cushim, XVII. 374.
Cushion, VII. 558.
Cushites, XVII. 358.
Cusp, VII. 558—in astrology, ib.—in
architecture, III. 466.
Cuspinian (John), VII. 558.
Custom, VII. 558—-its influence in
China, VI. 585—its effects on the
senses, XX. 97. See Habit.
CUstom-duties, VII. 562; XXI. 115.
Custom-house, VII. 562—fallacy of
custom-house returns, VII. 161, 163.
Gustos Brevium — Rotulorum — Spi-
ritualium—Temporalium, VII. 562.
Cutaki, in Hindustan, VII. 562.
Cutbush’s electrical lamp, VIII. 661.
Cutch, in Hindustan, VII. 562—its
trade with Sinde, XX. 363.
Cuth, or Cuthah, VII. 565.
Cuthbert’s microscope, XV. 42.
Cuthbertson (Mr), his electrical appara¬
tus for oxidating metals, VIII. 627—
his experiments with it, 628—his
electrical kites, 646—his electrical
condenser, 651—his balance-electro¬
meter, 657—his air-pump, XVIII. 90.
Cuticle of the skin, II. 750 ; VII. 190;
XVII. 606—of mucous membrane,
II. 752—of plants, III. 65.
Cutis, XVII. 606.
Cutlers, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Cutlery, VII. 565—of Sheffield, XX.
195—grinding of, X. 777. See Steel.
Cutlu-Moses, VII. 283.
Cuttack, in Hindustan, VII. 568.
Cutter, VII. 568 ; IV. 722.
Cutterah, in Hindustan, VII. 568.
Cutting, VII. 568.
Cutting’s rope-machine, XIX. 467.
Cuttings, VII. 568—propagation of
fruit by, XI. 635.
Cuttle-fish, XV. 352; XVII. 719.
Cutts (John, Lord), VII. 568.
Cuvette, in fortification, VII. 568.
Cuvieb (Baron), VII. 568—on Bonnet’s
definition of moral liberty, I. 268—
his method of estimating the relative
proportions of the skull and face, III.
7—his work on Fossil Bones, 40
—on the differences between plants
and animals, 157—on the harmony of
organs in animals, 159—on the clas¬
sification of animals, ib. 161, J62,
170, 179; XVII. 586 ; of the arach-
nides. III. 347 ; of animal functions,
XVII. 590 ; of zoophytes, XXI. 998
—on the descent of all animals from
progenitors, III. 162—on the infusoria,
181—on the great scientific utility of
glass, 185—on the character of Mr
Cavendish, VI. 264, 265; and of Ray,
XIV. 77—on fishes, XII. 151—on the
mammalia, XIV. 79—on the varieties
of the human species, 199—on the
mollusca, XV. 332—on birds, XVI.
549, 150—his merits as a zoologist,
ib. — on Pliny’s Natural History,
XVIII. 58—on serpents, XX. 122.
Cuyaba, XIV. 326.
Cuyahoga river, XVI. 326.
Cuyp, XVI. 722.
Cuzco, VII. 577 ; XVII. 294, 305.
Cyami, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Cyanates, VI. 456.
Cyanic acid, VI. 433.
Cyanite, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Cyanodides, VI. 456.
Cyanogen, VI. 372.
   acids, Vi. 432.
V
CYA—GYP
Cyanogen acid salts, VI. 456.
Cyanometeb, VII. 572 ; XIV. 740 ;
XVII. 530.
Cyanurates, VI. 456.
Cyanuric acid, VI. 433.
Cyathus, Greek measure, VII. 572.
Cyaxares, VII. 572 ; XIV. 489.
Cybebe, VII.-572.
Cybele, VII. 573.
Cybellicum marmor, VII. 573.
Cybium, fish, XII. 183.
Cycadeae, in botany, V. 131.
Cycas, in botany, V. 69.
Cyceon, VII. 573.
Cychla, fish, XII. 196.
Cychrus, insect, IX. 130.
Cycinnis, Greek dance, VII. 573.
Cyclades, islands, VII. 573.
Cyclas, in conchology, XV. 341.
Cycle, VII. 573—of Indiation, ib.; VI.
S—Metonic, VII. 573 ; III. 728 ; VI.
7—solar, 8 ; VII. 573—lunar, ib. ;
VI. 9—Druidical, VIII. 206—cycles
of weather, XIV. 718.
Cycliea, insects, IX. 182.
Cyelidium, animalcules, III. 188.
Cycloid, VII. 57 3; 1.439—its properties,
XIV. 317, 318, 384. See Geometry.
Cyclomus, insect, IX. 173.
Cyclopsean architecture, III. 413.
Cyclopaedia, VII. 573; VIII. 698.
Cyclops, VII. 573—quadricornis, 503.
Cyclopterus, fish, XII. 221.
Cyclosis, XXI. 573.
Cyclostoma, mollusca, XV. 347, 357.
Cyclostomi, in ichthyology, XII. 236.
Cyclostylar, in architecture, III. 466.
Cyder. See Cider.
Cydias, painter, VII. 574.
Cydippe, zoophyte, XXI. 1019.
Cydnus, river, VII. 574.
Cydonia, VII. 574.
Cygnus, VII. 574; XVI. 635.
Cylas, insect, IX. 172.
Cylinder, in geometry, VII. 574 ; X.
465—development of, 419 ; XII. 608.
Cylinders, boring of, V. 4—mensuration
of, XIV. 572—the forces employed in
breaking two, are as the squares of
the diameters, XX. 778—of steam-
engines, 617, etseq. 695,
Cylindroid, VII. 574.
Cyllenia, insects, IX. 268.
Cylon, his conspiracy at Athens, IV. 144.
Cyma, VII. 574 ; III. 442, 450, 466.
Cymbal, musical instrument, VII. 574.
Cymbirhynchus, bird, XVI. 577.
Cymbulia, mollusca, XV. 355.
Cyme, in botany, V. 41.
Cymene, in botany, VII. 574.
Cymindis, bird, XVI. 563.
Cymophane, specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Cymothoada, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Cynajgirus, VII. 574.
Cynanche, a disease, VII. 574.
Cynara Cardunculus, V. 640.
Cynarrhodon, in botany, V..48.
Cyneus of Thessaly, VII. 574.
Cynics, VII. 574 ; XVII. 431.
Cynips, insect, IX. 226.
Cynocephala, battle of, XXL 197.
Cynocephali, VII. 549.
Cynocephalus, in zoology, XIV. 33.
Cynodontis, VII. 549.
Cynophontis, festival, VII. 575.
Cynopolis, III. 276-7.
Cynorexy, disease, VII. 575.
Cynosarges, in ancient Athens, VII.
575 ; IV. 125.
Cynoscephale, VII. 575.
Cynosura, VII. 575.
Cynthia, goddess, VII. 575; IX. 242.
 , molluscum, XV. 368.
Cynthius, VII. 575.
Cyperaceae, in botany, V. 137.
Cyphon and Cyphonism, VII. 575.
Cypnea, in conchology, XV. 346.
Cypreadae, mollusca, XV. 364.
Cypress, XVII. 786—sp. gr. of XII. 28.
Cyprianus (Thascius Caacilius), bishop
of Carthage, VII. 575.
Cyprinidae, in ichthyology, XII. 197.
Cyprinodon, fish, XII. 199.
CYP—DAI
Cyprinus, XII. 197—-angling for differ¬
ent kinds of, III. 146-7.
Cyprus, VII. 576; VIII. 472.
Cypselus, bird, XVI. 578.
Cyrano (Bergerac), VII. 576.
Cyrenaica, in Africa, VII. 576.
Cyrenaics, VII. 577 ; XVII. 431.
Cyrene, VII. 577 ; II. 236 ; VIII. 467,
472—dispute with Carthage, VI. 184.
Cyril (St), patriarch of Alexandria,
VII. 577—alphabet of, II. 548.
Cyrillus Lucaris, his account of the
Alexandrian MS., II. 414.
Cyrtandraceae, in botany, V. 121, n.
Cyrtoma, insects, IX. 276.
Cyrtostyle, in architecture, III. 466.
Cyrtus, insect, IX. 270.
Cyrus, VII. 577 ; XVII. 259; XI. 472
—his military achievements, ill. 582
—capture of Babylon by, IV. 270—
his treatment of Croesus, VII. 474—
his war against the Lydians, XIII. 609.
 the Second, VII. 578.
Cystic arteries and veins, VII. 579.
Cystica, zoophytes, XXI. 995.
Cysticercus, zoophyte, XXI. 995.
Cythera, XII. 341.
Cytherasa, VII. 579.
 , molluscum, XV. 342.
Cytineae, in botany, V. 128.
Cyxii, insects, IX. 203.
Cyzicens, VII. 579.
Cyzicum, or Cyzicus, VII. 579.
Czar, VII. 579.
Czarnikau, VII. 579.
Czaslau, in Bohemia, VII. 579.
Czernowitz, VII. 579.
Czorxkow, VII. 579.
D
D, letter of the alphabet, VII. 580.
Dab, fish, XII. 220.
Dabeh, Prussian town, VII. 580.
Dabringshausen, VII. 580.
Dabul, Hindu town, VII. 580.
Dacca Jelalpore, VII. 580—muslin-
manufacture of, IV. 567 ; VII. 396.
Dace, angling for, III. 147.
Dacelo, bird, XVI. 593.
Dachau, in Bavaria, VII. 581.
Dacia, VII. 581.
Dacians, their wars with the Romans,
XIX. 406, 407.
Dacier (Andrew), VII. 581.
 (Anne Lefevre), VII. 582.
Dacne, insect, IX. 149.
Dacnis, bird, XVI. 583.
Dacotas, H. 617—their belief as to a
future state, II. 620.
Dactyl, VII. 582.
Dactylethra, reptile, XIX. 155.
Dactyli Id«i, VII. 582, 463.
Dactylic, VII. 582—verses, ib.
Dactyliomancy, VII. 583.
Dactylopterus, fish, XII. 173.
Dactylus, VII. 583.
Dacus, insect, IX. 289.
Dado, in architecture, III. 466.
Daduchi, VII. 583.
D-edala, in Lycia* VII, 583.
D*dalus, VII. 583, 464.
Daeimon, VII. 583—of Socrates, XX. 456
—origin of worship of daemons, XVIII.
333.
Demoniac, VII. 584 ; XIV. 9.
Daendels (General), IV. 438.
Dafila, bird, XVI. 638.
Dagelet’s Island, VII. 586.
Daghestan, in Asia, VII. 586.
Dago, island in the Baltic, VII. 587.
Dagobert, X. 6.
Dagon, VII. 587, 696 ; XVII. 352.
Dahalak, island, VII. 587.
Daher (Sheikh), VIII. 486 ; XXI. 64.
Dahhi, Arabian village, VII. 587.
Dahlia, culture of, XI. 683.
Dahlin, VI. 476.
Dahomey, African kingdom, VII. 587.
Daillfe (Monsieur), his edition of “ Sca-
ligerana,” II. 675.
DAI—DAM
DaiLle (John), VII. 588.
Dair el Kamar, in Syria, VII. 588.
Dairi, Japanese pontiff, VII. 588.
Dairy, VII. 588—dairies in Cambridge¬
shire, VI. 34—Cheshire, 510—Ireland,
XII. 407—Lanarkshire, XIII. 50—
Lombardy, 475—Somersetshire, XX.
475. See Butter, Cheese, Milk.
Dakir, VII. 594.
Dalaca, island, VII. 594.
Dalapiri, island, VII. 594.
Dalby (Mr), employed on the ordnance
survey, XXL 354.
Dalechamp (James), VII. 594.
D’Alembert. See Alembert.
Dalgarno (George), VII. 594—profound
remark of, I. 248—his works, 284.
Dalibard on the electrical nature of
lightning, VIII. 618.
Dalkeith, Scotch town, VII. 594.
Dalkey, island, VIII. 235.
Dalmatia, VII. 595 ; IV. 228.
Dalmatian alphabet, II. 548.
Dalmow, Hindu town, VII. 605.
Dalriads, V. 296.
Dairymple (Alex.), VII. 296 — on the
supposed southern continent, IV.
204.
 (Sir David), Lord Hailes, VII.
601, 60!)—on the Scottish character
for swearing, VIII. 273.
 (Sir Hugh), VII. 600.
 (James), Lord Stair, VII. 595—
on the reception of the doctrines of
Spinoza and Hobbes, I. 105—his Phy-
siologicc Nova Experimentalis, 285.
——— (Sir James), VII. 600.
 (Sir John), VII. 599, 600.
 (Thomas), M.D., VII. COO.
Dalton, in Lancashire, VII. 605.
 (John), D.D., VII. 605.
   (Dr), XIV. 227—on the carbonic
acid of the atmosphere, IV. 135 —
on aurora borealis, 198—his atomic
theory, VI. 352, et seq.—his chemical
labours, ib.—on evaporation, IX. 426,
et seq.—on heat, XI. 188, et seq.—on
the mercurial thermometer, XII. 116
—on the mutual repulsion of particles
of the air, 120—on magnetism, XIII.
696, 698, 740, 754—on the atmos¬
phere, XVII. 532, 533—on the ca¬
pacity of steam for caloric, and ebulli¬
tion in vacuo, XX. 573—his experi¬
ments on the elastic force of steam,
583—on the law which connects that
force with the temperature, 592, 596
—on the specific gravity, generation,
and density of steam, 602, 603.
Dalziel, family of, XI. 246.
 (General), V. 349.
Dam, VII. 605.
Daman, in zoology, XIV. 151.
Damar, Araliian town, VII. 605.
Damascenes (John), VII. 605.
Damascius, philosopher, VII. 605.
Damascus, VII. 605—sword-blades of,
VH. 565—taken by Ali Bey, VIII.
486—gun-barrels of, XI. 36.
Damask, VII. 608. See Design.
Damaskeening, VII. 608.
Damaun, in Hindustan, VII. 608i
Dambach, French town, VII. 608.
Damelopre, VII. 608.
Damgan, Persian town, VII. 608.
Damianists, religious sect, VII. 608.
Damiano (St), Italian town, VII. 608;
Damiens (Robert Francois), VII. 608;
Damietta, VII. 609 ; II. 230.
Damman (Adrian), VII. 545.
Dammartin, French town, VH. 609.
Damme, German town, VII. 609.
Damnii, Vli. 609; VI. 1.
Damocedes’ surgical school, XX. 821,
Damocles, VII. 609,
Damon, philosopher, VII. 609i
Damp. See Damps.
Dampier (Wm.), VII. 610—his dis¬
coveries in New Holland, IV. 205,
206—his account of the natives, 208
—his visit to Papua, 211; New Bri¬
tain, 212; the Bashee Islands, 425 ;
and the Ladrone Islands, XVIII. 317
48
INDEX
DAM—DAR
—on the bread-frviit, V. 211—on the
sea and land breezes, XIV. 745.
Dampier’s patent balance, XXI. 378.
Dampier’s Straits, VII. 611.
Dampierre (General), X. 78, et seq.
Dampness, its effects on the weights
and dimensions of bodies, XII. 111.
Da Mbs in mines, VII. 611, 80, 641.
Damsel, VII. 612.
Damsong, in Hindustan, VII. 612.
Dan, VII. 612.
Danae, VII. 612.
Danaide (Dectot’s), XII. 107.
DanaidEs, VII. 612.
Danais, insect, IX. 241.
Danaus, VII. 612.
Danby (Lord Treasurer), V. 348.
Dancali, in Africa, VII. 612.
Dancing, VII. 613—French Academy
of, II. 75—muscles employed in, 797
—unknown in China, VI. 586—much
cultivated by the Cretans and Lace¬
demonians, VII. 465—on ropes, 615 ;
XIV. 380—dancing girls, VII. 615;
of Egypt, II. 533 ; VIII. 529.
Dandalo (Count), his experiments on
silk-worms, XIII. 479.
Dandar, in Hindustan, VII. 616.
Dandini (Pietro), painter, VII. 616.
Dane river, VI. 509.
Danegelt, a tax, VII. 616.
Danes, character of the, VII. 728—Al¬
fred’s wars with the, II. 418—their
magical standard, ib. n. 1—massacre
of, VIII. 706—England conquered by,
ib.—their invasions of England, VIII.
702, et seq. 712 ; France, X. 4, et seq.;
the Hebrides, XI. 202 ; Ireland, XII.
353; Scotland, XIX. 699 ; and Britain,
XX. 213—had a settlement at Water¬
ford, XXI. 809, 812. See Normans.
Danet (Peter), abbot, VII. 616.
Danforth’s throstle, VII. 402 ; X. 556.
Daniel the prophet, VII. 616.
* (Gabriel), VII. 617.
 (Samuel), poet, VII. 616.
 (Capt.), voyage of, XVIII. 219.
Daniell (Prof.), on evaporation, IX. 426,
430, 432—his hygrometer, XII. 122
—on specific gravity of mixture of
air and vapour, 131—his pyrometer,
XVIII. 750—his voltaic batteries,
XXI. 699—on electro-magnetism, 685.
Danilow, in Russia, VII. 617.
Danmonii, VII. 617.
Danneker, XX. 9.
Dannemora, mine of, VI. 750.
Dante (Alighieri), VII. 617 — Bocca-
cia’s commentary on, IV. 724—com¬
pared with Milton, XV. 104—poetry
of, XVIII. 158.
Danton (George-Jacques), French re¬
volutionist, VII. 619; X. 86.
Dantzic, VII. 622—corn-trade of, VII.
362—commerce of Denmark with,
720—siege of, in 1807, IX. 781—
siege by Gustavus Adolphus, XXI.
17—trade of, XVIII. 694—Gulf of,
IV. 329—port of, 330.
Danube, river, IV. 228, 459; IX. 407 ;
X. 483; XIX. 564 ; XXL 418-
mouths of the, IV. 660—its naviga¬
tion, XI. 726—Trajan’s bridge over
the, XIX. 407.
 (Lower and Upper), VII. 622.
Dao, island, VII. 622.
Daoud, in Hindustan, VII. 622.
Daoudcandy, in Hindustan, VII. 622.
Daocdnagur, in Hindustan, VII. 622.
Daouria, mountains of, XX. 326.
Daphne, VII. 622.
Daphneforia, festival, VII. 623.
Daphnin, VI. 467.
Daphnomelus, VII. 283.
Daphnusa, siege of, VII. 287.
Dapifer, VII. 623.
Dapsa, insect, IX. 185.
Daptrius, bird, XVI. 561.
Dar el Beida, in Morocco, XV. 506.
Darabjirb, Persian town, VII. 623.
Darah, African river, VII. 623.
■ , African country, VII. 623.
Daranagur, in Hindustan, VII. 623.
DAR-DAU
Daraporam in Hindustan, VII. 623.
Darapti, in logic, VII. 623.
Dararians, sect of, VIII. 478.
Darby (Abiah), his iron bridge, V. 278.
Darda, Hungarian town, VII. 623.
Dardanelles, VII. 623.
Dardanus, VII. 624.
Darent river navigation, XVI. 11.
Dares, a Phrygian, VII. 624.
Darfur, in Africa, VII. 624 ; II. 236.
Dario, gold coin, VII. 625.
Darien, province of, VII. 625.
 , gulf of, VII. 625.
 , isthmus of, VII. 625; XVI. 781
—proposed canal across, II. 651.
 , Scottish colony of, VII. 625 ;
V. 365 ; VIII. 414.
Darii, in logic, VII. 629.
Darius, murdered by Bessus, XIII. 632
—Persian kings of that name, XVII.
259, 260.
Darkehmen, in Prussia, VII. 629.
Darkness, VII. 629.
Darling (General), his administration in
New South Wales, XXI. 713.
 River, XXL 715.
Darlington, in Durham, VII. 629—
“ Hell Kettles” near, VIII. 290.
Darmapooram, Hindu town, VII. 629.
Darmstadt, German city, VII. 629.
Darmtal, French town, VII. 629.
Darnis, insect, IX. 204.
Darnley (Lord), husband of Q. Mary,
XIX. 737—murder of, 739.
Darnley’s Island, VII. 629.
Daroca, Spanish city, VII. 630.
Darra, Hindu town, VII. 630.
Dart river navigation, XVI. 11.
Dartford-, in Kent, VII. 630.
Dartmouth, in Devonshire, VII. 630.
 , in Nova Scotia, XVI. 285.
Daru (Comte de), historian, VII. 630.
Daruvare, Austrian town, VII. 630.
Darvill (Mr), on the race-horse, XI. 575.
DARWrAR, in Hindustan, VII. 630.
Darwin (Erasmus), VII. 631—Dr T.
Brown’s Observations on his Zoono-
mia, I. 394 ; V. 602—on physical in¬
fluences affecting the mind, VIII. 440
on instinct, XII. 3015—on the sensi¬
tive plant, XX. 101.
Dasan, island, VII. 632.
Dascillus, insect, IX. 141.
Dascyllus, fish, XII. 176.
Dasycerus, insects, IX. 176.
Dasypoda, insects, IX. 232.
Dasypogon, insect, IX. 268.
Dasyprocta, in zoology, XIV. 141.
Dasypus, in zoology, XIV. 143.
Dasytes, insect, IX. 145.
Dasyurus, XI V.127—Ursinus, XXI. 554.
Data, in mathematics, VII. 632.
Date, VII. 632. See Calendar, Chro¬
nology, Epoch, Era.
Date-plum tree, XVII. 789.
Date-tree, XVII. 452—dates, ib.
Datiscere, in botany, V. 128.
Datiscin, VI. 476.
Datisi, in logic, VII. 632.
Dative, in grammar, VII. 632; X. 642.
Datnia, fish, XII. 169.
Datolite, in mineralogy, XV. 150—-spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 29.
Datura, poisonous, XIV. 506.
Daubenton (L. J. M), VII. 633—on the
wood of palms, III. 63—occipital angle
of, 6; XVII. 701.
Daubeny (Dr), his geological account of
JEtna, II. 202—on volcanoes, XV. 226,
230—on thermal springs, XVII. 528.
Daudin on birds, XVI. 549.
Daughter, VII. 634.
Daulakee, Persian village, VII. 634.
Dauli, river, VII. 634.
Daun (Count), XVIII. 674, et seq.
Dauney (Wm.), ancient Scottish melo¬
dies published by, XX. 375. -
Dauphin, VII. 634.
 (Port), XIII. 668.
Dauphins, or Delphins, VII. 634 ; IV.
627.
Daurat (John), poet, VII. 634.
Daussy (Mens.) on the effect of atmos-
DAV—DEA
pheric pressure on the level of the sea,
XXL 285.
Davanagiri, Indian town, VII. 634.
Davenant (Charles), VII. 635—on po¬
litical economy, XVIII. 266.
  (Sir William), poet, VII. 634 ;
XVIII. 170—opera by, VIII. 171.
Davenport (Tho.), his application of
electro-magnetism as a mechanical
power, XXI. 687.
Daventry, a town in Northampton¬
shire, VII. 635.
David, VII. 635 ; XII. 568 ; XVI. 750
—Dr Chandler’s Life of, VI. 317—
psalms of, XVIII. 146.
 I., king of Scotland, XIX. 705.
— II., king of Scotland, XIX. 710.
  (Jacques-Louis), his style of
painting, XVI. 723.
 ap Gwyllim, VI. 138.
Davidists, heretics, VII. 635.
David’s (St), city in Pembrokeshire,
VII. 635; XVII. 183.
Davie (Major), VI. 305.
Davies’s Tables of life-contingencies,
III. 201.
Davig, town in Norway, VII. 635.
Davila (H. C.), historian, VII. 635.
Davis (Sir John), VII. 636; XII. 367-
quotation from his poem on the im¬
mortality of the soul, I. 253.
  (John), navigator, VII. 636—
voyages of, XVIII. 217.
 (Mr), his translations from the
Chinese, VI. 568, 571—on ancient
Hindu astronomy, XVII. 428.
Davis’s Island, VII. 636.
Davison (Mr) on the pyramid of Cheops,
VIII. 547, 557-8.
Davy (Sir Humphry), VII. 637 — on
the use of lime in agriculture, II. 300
—on the improvement of clay-soils,
315—on the composition of the at¬
mosphere, IV. 134—his connection
with DrBeddoes, 515—his oryhydro-
gen blowpipe, 716—his chemical dis¬
coveries, VI. 351—on electrical light,
VIII. 585 — on electro-magnetism,
574—on the torpedo, 611—on falling
stars, IX. 587—on the salmon fishery,
600—on flame, X. 356—on the Her¬
culaneum MSS., XI. 266—on irriga¬
tion, XII. 456—on volcanoes, XV. 230
—his safety-lamp, XIII. 46 ; XV. 245
—his galvanic battery, XXI. 665—
electro-chemical experiments, 677,678.
 (Dr John), on the electricity of
the torpedo, VIII. 611.
Dawlish, in Devonshire, VII. 643.
Dawson (William), the establisher of
drill-culture of turnips in Scotland,
II. 286—on the use of lime in agri¬
culture, 301.
Dax, in France, VII. 643.
Day, VII. 643—siderial, III. 776—civil,
ib.—astronomical or solar, ib.; VI.
3—cause of variation in length of,
III. 776—days of grace, IX. 454—ori¬
gin of the names of days, XVIII. 337.
 (John), printer, XVIII. 554.
Daymiel, Spanish town, VII. 643.
Daze, a mineral, VII. 643.
Deacon, VII. 644 ; XI. 489.
Deaconess, VII. 644.
Deaconry, VII. 644.
Dead, Chinese respect for the, VI. 563
—interment of the, XII. 329—prayers
for the, XII. 752, note. See Burial,
Death.
Dead-reckoning, VII. 644.
Dead Sea, III. 703 ; XII. 546; XIII.
27 ; XVI. 745, 746 ; XVII. 522.
Deadly feud, VII. 644.
 nightshade, XIV. 506.
Deaf and Dumb, VII. 645—J. C. Am¬
man’s mode of teaching the, II. 657
—communication of blind persons
with the, IV. 699—Condillac on their
ideas, VII. 204—Dalgarno on their
tuition, 594—Edinburgh Asylum for
the, VIII. 426—rights of the, XIV.
494—hearing-trumpet, XXI. 398.
Deal, fir-plank, VII. 659.
DEA—DEC
Deal, a town in Kent, VII. 659.
Deal-fish, XII. 189.
Dealfoor,in Hindustan, VII. 659.
Dean, VII. 660—and chapter, ib.—Eng.
lish deans, VIII. 788.
 , forest of, X. 588.
 of Faculty, XIX. 760.
Deane (Sir Anthony), his improvements
on ships, XVI. 42, 44; XX. 225.
Deanery, VII. 660.
Deanston system of draining, XX. 730.
Deargoun, in Hindustan, VII. 660.
Dearne and Dove canal, XVI. 11.
Death, VII. 660 ; XIV. 207; XVII.
581—from laughter, VIII. 212, n. 1—
signs of, XII. 330; XIV. 497—me¬
dico-legal examination of dead body,
ib.—from suffocation, 498 ; starvation,
ib.; extremes of temperature, 499 ;
wounds, ib.; poison, 500—soul after,
679—utility of fear of, XVIII. 667—
considered theologically, XXL 218,
235—of plants, 588. See Mortality.
Death-tick, IX. 146.
Deben river navigation, XVI. 11.
Debenham, in Suffolk, VII. 661.
Debenture, VII. 661.
Debreczyn, Hungarian city, VII. 661.
Debruized, in heraldry, VII. 661.
Debt (National). See National Debt.
Debtors, Roman law’ against, VI. 711.
Decade, VII. 661.
Decagon, in geometry, VII. 661.
Decalogue, VII. 661.
Decandolle (Mons.) See Candolle.
Decantation, VII. 661.
Decanus, VII. 661.
Decapoda, Crustacea, VII. 500.
Decapolis, VII. 661 ; XVI. 745.
Decaproti, VII. 661.
Decastyle, in architecture, VII. 661;
III. 466.
Deccan, VII. 601 ; XI. 376.
Decebalus, X. 494 ; XIX. 406, 407.
December, VII. 661—gardening opera¬
tions in, XI. 691.
Decempeda, ancient measuring instru¬
ment, VII. 662.
Decemviri, magistrates in ancient
Rome, VII. 662.
Decenn alia, Roman festivals, VII. 662.
Decentius, VII. 272.
Dechales (Clandius F. M.), mathema¬
tician, VII. 662.
Deciduous, VII. 662.
Decil, in astronomy, VII. 662.
Decimal Arithmetic, VII. 662—intro¬
duction of, I. 435—fractions, III 559 ;
terminate, 560 ; approximate, 561;
interminate, 562.
Decimation, VII. 663.
Deciphering, VII. 663 ; VI. 701.
Decius, XIX. 382.
 Mus, Roman consul, VII 663.
 Trajanus, reign of, XIX. 411.
Decize, French city, VII. 663.
Deck of a ship, VII. 663 ; XX. 288—
sheer of, 277.
Decker (Sir Matthew), on political eco¬
nomy, XVIII. 267.
 (John), his W'ork on anonymous
books, IV. 627.
Decknall, Hindu town, VII. 663.
Decla, Hindu town, VII. 663.
Declamatiom, VII. 663.
Declination, VII. 664—in astronomy,
ib.; III. 755—table of the sun’s, for
every day in the year, VII. 780.
Declinator, an instrument, VII. 665.
Decoction, VII. 665.
Deceits, Indian robbers, XI. 452.
Decollation, VII. 665.
Decomposition, in chemistry, VII. 665
—laws of, VI. 355—electro-chemical,
XXI. 678—by thermo-electricity, 698
—by means of the galvanic pile, 673.
Decoration, in architecture, VII. 665;
V. 695.
Decorum, in architecture, VII. 665.
Decouple, in heraldry, VII. 665.
Decoy, in naval warfare, VII. 665—for
wild fowl, ib.; XX. 301, n.
Decree, VII. 665.
INDEX
49
DEC—DEK
Decrement, in heraldry, VII. 665.
Decrepitation, in chemistry, VII. 665.
Decrepitude, XIV. 493.
Decretals, VII. 665 ; XXI. 488—col¬
lections of, VI. 92.
Dectan, Hindu town, VII. 665.
Dectot’s Danaide, XII. 107.
Decdmates Agri, VII. 665.
Decuple Proportion, VII. 665.
Decurio, Roman officer, VII. 665.
Decury, VII. 666.
Decussation, in geometry, VII. 666.
Decussorium, VII. 666.
Deddington, in Oxfordshire, VII. 666.
Dedham, in Essex, VII. 666.
Dedication, VII. 666.
Dee, rivers of that name, VII. 667.
 , river in Cheshire, VI. 509—its
navigation, XVI. 12.
 (John), mathematician, VII. 666
—on optical instruments, XVI. 352.
Deed, VII. 667.
Deeg, VII. 667—battle of, XI. 436.
Deemsters, Manx judges, VII. 667.
Deeping-Market, a town in Lincoln¬
shire, VII. 667.
Deer, XIV. 157, 158—of Hindustan, XI.
382—deer-hunting, XI. 746—deer¬
stalking, XX. 303.
Deerlyk, town in Flanders, VII. 667.
Dees, or Deesch, VII. 667.
Defamation, VII. 667.
Default, in law, VII. 667.
Defection, VII. 667.
Defective, VII. 667.
Defence, in fortification, VII. 667.
Defend, VII. 667.
Defender of the Faith, VII. 667.
Defenders, VII. 668.
Defensive passions, XV. 459, 461. See
Anger, Resentment.
Deferens, in astronomy, VII. 668.
Deffand (Madame du), X. 507, n. 2—on
the origin of our knowledge, I. 72.
Defile, In fortification, VII. 668.
Definite, in grammar, VII. 668.
Definition, VII. 668 ; XIII. 435-
causes of obscurity of, 436 — requi¬
sites of, ib. — how to arrive at just
definitions, ib.—are a help to clearness
and evidence, 444—their use in ma¬
thematics, ib.—known before Socrates,
XX. 464—his fondness for, 465.
Definitive, VII. 668.
Deflagration, in chemistry, VII. 668.
Deflecting forces, VIII. 379,
Deflection, VII. 668.
Defloration, signs of, XIV. 496.
Defoe (Daniel), VII. 668 ; XX. 84—his
novels, XIX. 335.
Defoliation, VII. 672.
Deformity, VII. 672—effects of its pos¬
session on the possessor’s mind, VIII.
442. See Beauty.
Defossion, burying alive, VII. 677.
Degeneration, VII. 677.
Degerando (Monsieur), on the Kantian
schools of philosophy, I. 200-1.
Deglutition, or swallowing, XVII. Ssi,
627—of fishes, XII. 159.
Dego, X. 100.
Degoo, river, HI. 705.
Degradation, VII. 677.
■^SjandprO, his account of Angola, III.
Degree, VII. 678—of a circle, XXI.
370—measurement of degree on the
earth’s surface, IX. 546, ct seq. ; VI.
218; VII. 678 ; I. 656.
.academical, XXL 487, 490, 498,
504, 507, 510, 520, 524.
, in music, VII. 678.
Dehindah, Hindu town, VII. 678.
Dehwars, IV. 558.
Deification, HI. 293.
Deiphon, VII. 678.
Deiscal, ancient ceremony, VII. 678.
Deism and Deists, VII. 678
Deity, VII. 679. See God.'
Dejaniba, wife of Hercules, VII. 679.
Dejection, in astrology, VII. 679,
Dejoces, XIV. 489 ; XVII. 259.
Dekrungh, river, III. 705.
DEL—DEM
Delambre (J. B. J.), VII. 679—sketch
of his life and scientific character, I.
658, n.—his measurement of a degree
of latitude, 659 ; and of the arc of the
meridian of Paris, IX. 550—on the
astronomical merits of Ptolemy, III.
733; Dominic Cassini, 743; and La-
lande, 746—his astronomical labours,
747—on the solar spots, 781—on the
orbits of comets, VII. 138—onspheri-
cal trigonometry, XXI. 378.
Delamere Forest, meridian of, XXL 359.
Delaoud, Hindu town, VII. 681.
Delarive (Prof.),oneleetricity,VIII. 581,
617, n.—on electricity of sun’s rays,
608—on voltaic currents, XXI. 676.
Delasone, his anatomical researches, II.
701—on cartilage, 747.
Delator, his hive, III. 283.
Delaval on electricity, VIII. 571—on
ink-making, XII. 277.
Delaware, state, VII. 681—canals in,
XVI. 26; XXL 472—railroads, 473.
 river and bay, VII. 682.
 Indians, II. 619.
Delden, in the Netherlands, VII. 682.
Delegate, VII. 682.
Deleterious, VII. 682.
Deleuze on animal magnetism, XX. 477.
Deleytosa, Spanish town, VII. 682.
Delfshaven, VII. 682.
Delft, VII. 682—ware, ib.
 Isle, VII. 682.
Delfzyl, VII. 683.
Delhi, VII. 683—inscriptions at, XII.
291—sacked by Nadir Shah, XL 411
—taken by Timour, XV. 318. ‘
Delia, VII. 686.
Deliacal Problem, VII. 686.
Delibamenta, VII. 686.
Deliberative, VII. 686.
Delille (Jacques), poet, VII. 686.
   (J.), a blind author, IV. 699.
Deliquescence, VII. 688.
Deliquium, VII. 688.
Delirium, VII. 688. See Mental
Diseases.
Delisle, his astronomical labours, HI.
746—his thermometer, IV. 393.
Delitzsch, in Prussia, VII. 688.
Deiium, battle of, XX. 441.
Della Torre. See Torre.
Dellamcotta, in Hindustan, VII. 688.
Delmenhorst, in Germany, VII. 688.
Delos, island, VII. 688.
Delphax, insect, IX. 203.
Delphi, VII. 689—the Amphictyons at,
II. 667—oracle of, XVI. 515.
Delphin collection of the classics, IV.
627; VII. 634.
Delphinapterus, in zoology, XIV. 181.
Delpiiinia, ancient feasts, VII. 690.
Delphinne, in zoology, XIV. 172.
Delphinin, VI. 466.
Delphinius, in astronomy, VII. 690.
Delphinorhynchus, in zoology, XIV. 173.
Delphinula, in conchology, XV. 347.
Delphinus, XIV. 174. See Dolphin.
Delpiios, Greek village, VII. 690.
Delta of Egypt, VII. 690; VIII. 458
—its formation, 507.
 of the Indus, XX. 361.
Deltas, formation of, XVII. 524.
Deltoides, insects, IX. 250.
Deluc. See Luc (De).
Deluge, VII. 690; XV. 206, 220; XVI.
234—Hindu traditions respecting the,
XV. 677. See Antedeluvians, Deu¬
calion.
Delundung, in zoology, XIV. 118.
Demades, Athenian orator, VII. 704,
Demain, in law, VII. 704.
Dembea, lake, VII. 704.
 , in Abyssinia, VII. 704.
Dembo, in Africa, VII. 704.
Demembration, crime of, XIV. 496.
Dementia, XIV. 585.
Demerara, VII. 704.
Demesne. See Demain.
Demetria, ancient festival, VII. 707.
Demetrius, insect, IX. 116.
Demetrius, king of Antioch, III. 252.
 Poliorcetes, VII. 707 ;IV. 127,
DEM—DEN
Demetrius Phalerius, VII. 708 ; IV.
127 ; XVII. 406, n. 2.
 Soter, VI. 125.
 , philosopher, VII, 708.
 , king of Macedon, VII. 707 ;
XIII. 642.
Demi, VII. 708.
Demi-Attici, VII. 708.
Demi-gorge, in fortification, VII. 708.
Demilune, in fortification, IX. 773,
Demi-quaver, in music, VII. 708.
Demise, VII. 708.
Demiurge, in mythology, VII. 708.
Demmin, a Prussian city, VII. 708.
Democracy, VII. 708 ; X. 623—Aris¬
totle on, III. 527—at Athens, IV. 143,
159, 164—evils of, XVIII. 38—in the
United States, XXI. 480.
Democritus, VII. 708; X. 423—on the
moon’s spots, I. 452—his atomic theo¬
ry, III. 294—said to have put out his
eyes, IV. 700—his anatomical studies,
XVII. 724—was an atheist, XVII. 797.
Demoivre (Abraham), VII. 709—on the
calculus of sines. II. 494, 499—on the
doctrine of chance, XIV. 322—on pro¬
bability, XVIII. 592.
Demon. See Daemon.
Demoniacal diseases, XIV. 9.
Demonology, III. 296, et seq.
Demonstrable, VII. 709.
Demonstration, in logic, VII. 709
’ XIII. 454 ; XIV. 639—direct and in¬
direct, XIII. 456.
Demonstrative, in grammar, VII. 709.
Demonte, an Italian town, VII. 709.
De Morgan (Mr), on probability, XVIII.
594.
Demosthenes, orator, VII. 709 — his
orations against Philip, XIII. 626 
his conduct at the battle of Chserouea,
629—oratory of, XIX. 216—lanthom
of, III. 416, 436; IV. 119.
 , Athenian commander, IV. 157.
Dempster (Thomas), VII. 710.
 of Court, VII. 716.
Demsters, Manx judges, VII. 667.
Demulcents, in medicine, VII. 716.
Demurrage, in commerce, VII. 716.
Demurrer, in law, VII. 716.
Denaicott, Hindu town, VII. 716.
Denarius, Roman coin, VII. 716 ; XIV.
473 ; XV. 397.
Denbigh and Denbighshire, VII. 716.
Dendera, in Egypt, VII. 718—ruins
near, VIII. 542—zodiac of, 555.
Dendermonde, VII. 718.
Dendrachates, VII. 718.
Dendrites, formation of, VII. 510.
Dendrocolaptes, birds, XVI. 588.
Dendroides, insects, IX. 167.
Dendrometer, instrument, VII. 718.
Dendrophagus, insect, IX. 177.
Dendrophis, serpent, XX. 140.
Dendrophoria, peremony, VII. 718.
Deneb, Arabian term, VII. 718.
Denham (Sir John), VII. 718—character
of his poetry, XVIII. 170.
  (Major), his discoveries in the
interior of Africa, II. 238—his expe¬
dition to Bornou, V. 12.
Denia, Spanish city, VII. 718.
Denier, French coin, VII. 719.
Denina (C. J. M.), VII. 719.
Denis (Monsieur), his classification of
books, IV. 631.—his Introduction to
Bibliography, 632.
Denizen, in law, VII. 720.
Denizley, in Asia Minor, VII. 720.
Denmark, VII. 720—Royal Academy
of Sciences, II. 72—colonies, 648 ;
VII. 126; X. 756—army of, III. 609
—Baltic coast of, I V. 328—canals,
331—botanists, V. 79—British inva¬
sion of, in 1801, V. 501; XVI. 88-
seizure of fleet by the British in 1807,
V. 523, 526; X. 148—separation of
Norway from, V. 535, 536—corn-
trade of, VII. 363 — settlements in
Greenland, X. 756—connexion with
Iceland, XII. 143—jury trial in, 652
—libraries in, XIII. 316—variation
of the needle in, 733, 736 — coins
DEN—DER
of, XV. 407, 409—newspapers, XVI.
173—the Reformation in, XIX. 94 
religion of, 315—wars with Sweden,
XXI. 13, et seq.; V. 451—tides, XXI.
275—weights and measures of, 852—
Danish balance, IV. 306; ballads,
320 ; Bibles, 617 ; language, XIII. 85
—map of, VII. PI. 184. See Danes.
Dennis, or Dionysius the Lesser. See
Dionysius the Lesser.
 (John), critic, VII. 731.
Dennys (John), on angling, HI. iqg.
Denomination, VII. 732.
Denominator, VII. 732.
Denon, his account of Pompey’s Pillar,
II. 413; the ruins of Thebes, III.
409 ; and the Egyptian pyramids, 410.
Density, VII. 732; XVIII. 778—of
air, XVIII. 99—instrument for mea¬
suring, III. 370.
Dentalium, in conchology, XV. 349.
 , worm, XI. 219.
Dentatus (Curius), VII. 782.
Dentex, fish, XII. 177.
Denticrura, insects, IX. 137.
Dentifrice, VII. 732.
Dentils, VII. 732 ; III. 466.
Dentirostres, birds, XVI. 567.
Dentiscalpra, in surgery, VII. 732.
Dentition, VII. 732 ; XIV. 206; XVII.
657—in man, II. 781—in the lower
animals, III. 33. See Teeth.
D’Entrecasteaux’s Channel, VII. 732.
Denunciation, VII. 732.
Deobstruents, in pharmacy, VII. 732.
Deohand, VII. 732.
Deodhur, Hindu town, VII. 732.
Deogire, Hindu city, VII. 732.
Deogur, Hindu city, VII. 732.
Deonella, Hindu town, VII. 732.
Deopoor, Hindu town, VII. 732.
Deosir, in Hindustan, VII. 732.
Deparcieux (Mons.), on probabilities of
life, HI. 199—his araeometer, 871 
on overshot-wheels, XII. 84—on the
line of traction, XIV. 441—on mor¬
tality, XV. 514, 545.
Depiilegmation, VII. 732.
Dephlogisticated, VII. 733.
Depilatory Medicines, VII. 733.
Depolarisation of light, XVIII. 232,236.
Deponent, in grammar, VII. 733.
Depopulation, VII. 733.
Deportation, VII. 733.
Deposit, VII. 733—Mosaic law respect¬
ing, XV. 566.
Depositary, in law, VII. 7 33.
Deposition, in law, VII. 733.
Deprecation, in rhetoric, VII. 733.
Deprecatory, in theology, VII. 733.
Depressa, insects, IX. 138.
Depression, VII. 733.
Depbivaton, in law, VII. 733.
Deptford, in Kent, VII. 733—dock
and victualling yards of, VIH. 81.
Depuration, VII. 733.
Deputation, VII. 733.
Deputatus, VII. 733.
Deputy, VII. 733—French Chamber of
Deputies, X. 213.
Deray eh, III. 826 —captured by the
Turks, 346—destroyed by Ibrahim
Pasha, VIII. 501.
Derbe, insect, IX. 203.
Derbend, Persian town, VII. 733.
Derby, VII. 734—canal, XVI. 12.
Derbyshire, VII. 734—caverns in, XL
8—hot-blast at the Butterly iron¬
works in, XX. 409.
Derees, Persian town, VII. 737.
Dereham, town in Norfolk, VII. 737.
Derelicts, in civil law, VII. 737.
Derenburg, Prussian towm, VH. 737.
Derg (Lough), VIII. Ill ; XII. 391.
Derham, (Dr W.), VII. 737—his ac¬
count of the death-watch, VII. 660.
Derivation, VII. 738.
Derivative, in grammar, VII. 738.
Dermestes, insects, IX. 149.
Dermestini, insects, IX. 149.
Dermot, king of Leinster, XII. 354.
Dernier Resort, XIX. 187.
Derogation, VII. 738.
50
INDEX
DER—DES
Dehventio, river, YU. 738.
Deevis, or Dervish, VII. 738.
Derwent, river, Cumberland, VII. 536.
 , river, Derbyshire, VII. 735—
its navigation, XVI. 12.
 , river in Yorkshire—its naviga¬
tion, XVI. 12.
Derwentwater, VII. 537.
 (Earlof), his rebellion, V. 375—
his execution, 376.
Desaguadero, river, XVIII. 739.
Desaguiliebs (J. T.), VII. 7 38—his con¬
tributions to electricity, I. 617—on
Savary’s steam-engine, XX. 617—on
Newcomen’s steam-engine, 624—on
Beighton’s valve-gear, 627—his con¬
trivance for water-pipes, XXI. 795—
on Barker’s mill, 805.
Desaigne, a French town, VII. 738.
Desaix (General), VIII. 489, 490.
Desault (Pierre Joseph), VII. 738 —
his surgical improvements, XX. 829.
Desbaba, Hindu town, VII. 739.
Descant, in music, VII. 739.
Descabtes (Rene), VI. 180—Condor-
cet’s character of, I. 56—not entitled
to be called the father of experimen¬
tal physics, but of the experimental
philosophy of the mind, 67-8—his
clear and precise conception of reflec¬
tion, 57—on the mind, ib. et seq., 242
—the articles of common belief which
he proposed to subject to severe scru¬
tiny, 59—on consciousness of exis¬
tence, ib.; XIV. 631—his argument
for the existence of the Deity, I. 59
unjustly persecuted as an atheist, 60
—his precocity of genius, ib.—princi¬
pal articles of his philosophy, ib.—his
claims to the discovery of some lead¬
ing ideas ascribed to later metaphysi¬
cians, 63—progress of his doctrines in
England, 64—merits of his meditations,
43—coincidences between passages in
his works and the Novum Organon,
244—his errors, 68—on the connec¬
tion between soul and body, ib.—on
extension and figure, 245—on thepri-
mary and,secondary qualities ofbodies,
63, 245—reasons why he fixed on the
pineal gland as the seat of the soul,
69—never mentions Bacon, 70—erro¬
neously called a nullibist, 246—his
merits as a writer, 247—his doctrines
concerning ideas misunderstood, 109,
251—on the freedom of the will, 267
—supposition of Coleridge that he an¬
ticipated Hobbes in his discourse on
Method erroneous, 428—in philoso¬
phizing pursued a course opposite to
the Baconian, 468—comparison of his
system with Bacon’s, 469 —bn the
theory of motion, 478—on the preser¬
vation of the same quantity of motion
in the universe, ib.—on centrifugal
force, ib.—the first who attempted to
reduce all the phenomena of the uni¬
verse to the same law, 493—his theory
of vortices, 494—his claim to the dis¬
covery of the true law of refraction ill
founded, 511—his theory of light,
512—his optical discoveries, 512-13,
631; XVI. 358, 403—on the force of a
movingbody,I.538—hisiinprovements
in, and new applications of, algebra,
I. 444 ; II. 424 ; IX. 632—on the
pressure of the atmosphere, IV. 386
—his barometer, 389—his attempt
to solve a problem of Apollonius, III.
289—his opinion of brutes, V. 613—
on magnetism, XIII. 688—his contri¬
butions to mathematics, XIV. 317 ;
I, 594—on perception, XIV. 604—on
the trade-winds, 746—on pneumatics,
XVIII. 74—on force and velocity,
779—hjs theory of the origin of
springs, XX. 548.
— , French town, VII. 739.
Descenbant, VII. 739.
Descension, VII. 739.
Descent, VII. 739, 740.
Desceiption, VII. 740.
Desenzano, Italian town, VII. 740.
DES-DEV
Desebt, VII. 740; XVII. 501—deserts
of Arabia, III. 325. See Sahara.
Desertion of sailors during war, XIII.
142.
Deseze, X. 74.
Desfontaines on the textures of plants,
III. 60, 62—on their cuticle, 66—his
botanical labours, V. 87,
Deshache, in heraldry, VII. 740.
Desiderade, XI. 12.
Desiberatum, VII. 740.
Desideri, his geographical discoveries in
Asia, III. 698.
Design, VII. 740—in architecture, III.
466—designs for manufactures, VII.
740; XVI. 727.
Designation, VII. 740.
Designator, VII 740.
Designing, VII. 740.
Desii, XXI. 809.
Desire, XV. 466.
Desmaret on birds, XVI. 550.
Desmond family in Ireland, XII. 360—
rebellion, 364.
Desmoulins (A.), his division of the in¬
digenous Americans, II. 616.
Desolation (Island of), IV. 217.
Desormes (Monsieur), on evaporation,
IX. 426—his experiments on the heat
of air, XII. 118.
Despard (Colonel), execution of, V. 513
Despencer (Hugh le), VIII. 726.
Despot, VII. 741.
Despotical, VII. 741.
Despotism, X. 624—in Asia, III. 694 ;
Ava, IV. 242 ; Dahomey, VII. 587 ;
Persia, XVII. 247 ; Sinde, XX. 362 ;
Turkey, XXI. 420—its effect on litera¬
ture, XVII. 412.
Despodille, in heraldry, VII. 741.
Despbeaux. See Boileau.
Despretz on latent heat, XX. 601.
Dessaignes on the phosphorescent effects
of electricity, VIII. 634.
Dessaix (General), V. 495.
Dessalines, governor of Hayti, VIII. 106.
Dessau, German city, VII. 741.
Dessert, or Desert, VII. 741.
Dessiccative, in pharmacy, VII.*741.
Destelberge, in Flanders, VII. 741.
Destiny, VII. 741.
Destruction, VII. 741.
Destructiveness, XVII. 462.
Desubation, in medicine, VII. 741.
Desultor, VII. 741.
Desurennes, French town, VII. 741.
Detachment, VII. 741.
Detail, in architecture, III. 466.
Detergents, in pharmacy, VII. 741.
Deterioration, VII. 741.
Determinate Problem, VII. 741.
   Section, VII. 741.
Determination, VII. 741.
Detersives, VII. 741.
Detinue, in law, VII. 741.
Detmolb, German city, VII. 741.
Detonation, in chemistry, VII. 741.
Detranche, in heraldry, VII. 741.
Detrital deposits, XV. 220.
Detroit, XV. 8—Fort, V. 537.
Dettlebach, in Bavaria, VII, 741.
Dettingen, battle of, V. 380.
Deucalebonius Oceanus, VII. 742.
Deucalion, VII. 742 ; VII. 692.
Deucab, Hindu town, VII. 742.
Deunx, Roman weight, VII. 742.
Deutebocanonical, VII. 742.
Deuteronomy, VII. 743.
Deuteropotmi, VII. 743.
Deutebosis, VII. 743.
Deutschkrone, in Prussia, VII. 743.
Dev A, Austrian town, VII. 743.
Devant (Madame du), character of her
novels, XIX. 355.
Devaprayaga, Hindu town, VII. 743.
Devaud, somnambulist, XX. 477.
Development, anatomy of, XIV. 515.
Deventer, VII. 743.
Devebeux (Robert), earl of Essex, VII.
743 ; VIII. 758.
Devicotta, town in India, VII. 744.
Devil, VII. 744—Bougeant’s notion
that beasts are animated by devils,
DEV—DTA
V. 613, 614—diseases supposed to be
produced by them, XIV. 9—supersti¬
tious notions respecting the devil,
XX. 812-13. See Dannon, Daemoniac,
Demonology, Satan, Witch.
Devil-fish, XII. 234.
Devinction, VII. 744.
Devise, or Device, VII. 744.
Devizes, in Wiltshire, VII. 744.
Devolution, in law, VII. 744.
Devon ironworks, VI. 721.
 , river, VI. 720.
Devonport, XVIII. 67.
Devonshebing, VII. 744.
Devonshire, VII. 745—cattle of, II.
322—sheep, 329—fisheries, IX. 603—
Duke of; see Cavendish (Wm).
Devotion, VII. 747—a principal fea¬
ture in character of chivalry, VI. 593.
Dew, VII. 748 ; XI. 185 ; XVII. 537-
in Egypt, XVIII. 514—instrument
for measuring, XIV. 743—Table of
dew-points, XII. 127. See Evapora¬
tion.
Dewagur, Hindu town, VII. 753.
Dewan, Hindu town, VII. 753.
Dewanny, Vll. 753.
Dewabcote, Hindu town, VII. 753. *
Dewarcunbah, in Hindustan, VII, 753.
Dewargunge, Hindu town, VII. 753.
De Winter (Admiral), his engagement
with Duncan at Camperdown, V. 482;
VIII. 277; X. 107.
DeWitt (John), VII. 753; V. 344—
on probabilities, III. 199—his inti¬
macy with Sir W. Temple, XXI. 176.
Dewsbury, in Yorkshire, VII. 754.
Dexia, insect, IX. 283.
Dextans, Roman weight, VII. 754.
Dexter, in heraldry, YU. 754.
Dextrine, optical properties of, XVI.
505—mode of procuring, ib. n.
Dextrochere, in heraldry, VII. 754.
Dey of Algiers, VII. 754.
Deyeux on hairs of plants, III. 69.
Deynse, in Flanders, VII. 754.
Deybah, Hindu city, VII. 754,
Dezphoul, Persian town, VII,754.
Dhabma-Pubam, VII. 623.
Dheras, XI. 32.
Dhourra, a grain, XVI. 293.
Diabetes, VII. 754—urine in, VI. 500
—Dr Iloilo’s treatment of, VIII. 24
—in the domestic animals, XXI. 628.
Diabolus. See Devil.
 Metallorum, VII. 754.
Diacaustic Curve, VII. 754.
Diachylon, in pharmacy, VII. 754.
Diacobium, in pharmacy, VII, 754.
Diacoustics, VII. 754.
Diacrii, Athenian faction, VII. 754.
Diabem, VII. 755.
Diabin, in Armenia, VII. 755.
Diuresis, in grammar, VII. 755,
Di^itetaj, Grecian judges, VII. 755.
Diaglyphice, VII. 755.
Diagnosis, in medicine, VII. 755; XIV.
520—sources of difficulty and fallacy
in, XVII. 477—means of overcoming
difficulties in, 495.
Diagnostic, in medicine, VII. 755.
Diagonal, VII. 755 ; X. 433.
Diagoras, VII. 755.
Diagram, VII. 755.
Diagramma, fish, XII. 176.
Diah, Diat, VII. 755.
Diahexapla, in farriery, VII. 755.
Diakovar, Austrian town, VII. 755.
Dial, VII. 755—horizontal, X. 412—
Aitkin’s improved dial-work of clocks,
VI. 779. See Dialling.
Diala, river, VII. 755.
Dialect, VII. 755—Greek dialects,
XVII. 404.
Dialectics, VII. 755—Aristotle on, III.
508—of Plato, XVIII. 24—definition
and induction known before Socrates,
XX. 464 ; and much employed by
him, 465. See Logic.
Dialia, in antiquity, VII. 756.
Dialitha, VII. 756.
Dialling, VII.'756r See Dial.
Dialogism, in rhetoric, VIII. 1.
DIA-DID
Dialogue, VIII. 1—dialogues of ancient
philosophers, III. 508—philosophical
dialogues, XVIII. 41.
DiAlth/Ea, in pharmacy, VIII. 3.
Dialysis, in grammar, VIII. 3.
Dialyta, insect, IX. 284.
Diamastigosis, festival, VIII. 3.
Diameter, in geometry, VIII. 3; X.
4 38, 465—in architecture, HI. 466.
Diamonb, VIII. 3; XV. 155; X. 378
—determined by Newton to be in¬
flammable, I. 550—its properties, VI.
368—sp.gr., XII. 29—structure, XVI.
368—glazier’s, X. 577—Pitt diamond,
XI. 249, n. 3—lenses of, XV. 29—
how ascertained to be genuine, XVII.
662—carat, VI. 132—diamond-mines
of Brazil, V. 19 3, 194, 199,207 ; XV.
110 ; Bundelcund, V. 704 ; Hindu¬
stan, XI. 385; Paracatu, XVII. 54.
 type, XXI. 436.
 Harbour and Island, VIII. 7.
Diamper, Hindu town, VIII. 7.
Diana, goddess, VIII. 7.
Diana’s bane, VIII. 7.
Dian,e arbor, in chemistry, VIII. 7.
Dianchora, in conchology, XV. 344. *
Diano, Italian city, VIII. 7.
Diapason, VIII. 7.
Diapente, in ancient music, VIII. 7.
Diaper, VIII. 7. See Design.
Diaperales, insects, IX. 165.
Diapering, in heraldry, XI. 252.
Diaperis, insect, IX. 165.
Diaphanous, VIII. 7.
Diaphoresis, in rhetoric, VIII. 8.
Diaphoretics, VIII. 7—for the domestic
animals, XXI. 614, n. 4.
Diaphorus, insect, IX. 277.
Diaphragm, VIII. 7 ; II. 794—effects of
electricity on the, VIII. 639—its ac¬
tion in breathing, XVIII. 123.
Diaebekir, in Asiatic Turkey, VIII. 8.
Diarrhoea in animals, XXI. 626.
Diarthrosis, in anatomy, VIII. 9.
Diary, VIII. 9.
Diaschism, in music, VIII. 9.
Diastata, insect, IX. 299.
Diastole, VIII. 9 ; XVII. 641.
Diastyle, in architecture, III. 466.
Diasyomus, in rhetoric, VIII. 9.
Diatessaeon, in music, VIII. 9.
Diatonic, in music, VIII. 9.
Diaz (Bartolomeo), X. 307.
 (Paulo de), traveller, III. 151.
Diazona, mollusca, XV. 370.
Dibble, VIII. 9.
Dibdin (Rev. T. F.), on early printed
books, IV. 624—on editions of the
classics, 627—on works printed by
Guttenberg, XVIII. 545—on the saif)
of the Roxburghe library, 548.
Dibolia, insect, IX. 184.
Dicasarchus, VIII. 9 ; X. 395,
Dicseum, bird, XVI. 589.
Dicas’s lactometer, VII. 5fi3,
Dice, VIII. 9—dice-box, V. 158.
Diceras, in conchology, XV. 343.
Dichaeta, insect, IX. 289.
Dichlamydese, in botany, V. 42—thala-
miflorse, 9 4—calyciflor®, 105,114,115,
116—coroll iflorae, 119.
Dichotomy, in astronomy, VIII. 9.
Dichroism, XV. 128; XVI. 494.
Dicker, VIII. 9.
Dickinson (Edmund), VIII. 9.
Dielines, in botany, V. 128, 131.
Dicotyledones, in botany, V. 90, 92, 94.
Dicotyledons, III. 72—structure and
evolution of dicotyledonous seeds, 79.
Dicotyledonous plants, V. 51.
Dicrania, insects, IX. 160.
Dicranoura, insect, IX. 248.
Dictator, VIII. 9.
Diction, poetic, XVIII. 143. See Com¬
position, Style.
Dictionary, VIII. 9—of the English
language, ib—bibliographical diction¬
aries, IV. 629.
Dictymnia, feasts, VIII. 14.
Dictyoptera, insects, IX. 141.
Dictys Cretensis, VIII. 14.
Dibactic, vm. 14.
INDEX
51
DID—DIG
Didelpliis, in zoology, XIV. 126.
Didemnum, molluscum, XV. 371.
Diderot (Denis), VIII. 14—on ideas, I.
109-111—on liberty and necessity, 150
liis atheism, 181, 274—his theory of
beauty, IV. 486—on the blind, 699,
701—his novels, XIX. 354.
Didier, Lombard king, X. 8.
   (St), French city, VIII. 16.
Didius Julianus, XIX. 409.
DIdo, VIII. 16 ; VI. 183.
Didot’s script types, XXI. 437.
Didymocarpese, in botany, V. 121.
Didtmcs, VIII. 16 5 XI. 547.
Die, in France, VIII. 16.
 , in architecture, III. 466.
 for coinage, VII. 54 ; XIV. 478.
Diebitsch (Count), III. 607.
Dieborg, German city, VIII. 16.
Diego Garcia, island, XIV. 333.
Diekirch, French city, VIII. 16.
Diemerbroek (Isbrand), VIII. 16.
Diemrich, VII. 743.
Diependeek, in Limburg, VIII, 16.
Diepholz, in Hanover, VIII. 16.
Dieppe, in France, VIII. 16.
Dierdorf, German town, VIII. 17.
Dies marchi*, VIII. 17.
Diesis, in music, VIII. 17.
Diespiter, VIII. 17.
Diessenhqfen, VIII. 17.
Diet, Polish, XVIII. 201.
Dietetics, VIII. 17—fish, III. 20, 21-
relative nutritive powers of different
kinds of animal food, 166—abstinence
least supportable by the young, 167-
cases of abstinence, ib.—power of ab¬
stinence in animals, ib.—effects of
too luxurious diet on Luther, 298,
n. 1—diet of the Arabs, III. 335 ; of
the Chinese, VI. 579, 580, 586—in¬
fluence of diet on the mind, VIII.
443 ; and on health, XIV. 508—coarse
food of the Tunquinese, XXI. 409.
See Cookery, Fast, Food, Nutrition.
Died et mon Droit, VIII. 26.
Diet, in France, VIII. 26.
 (St), French city, VIII. 26.
Diez, in Nassau, VIII. 26.
Diff, musical instrument, VIII. 26.
Diffabreation, VIII. 26.
Difference, in mathematics,&c., VIII.
26—in heraldry, ib.; XI. 245.
Differential, VIII. 26 — distinction
between differentials and variations,
I. 600. See Fluxions.
 equation, VIII. 26.
  calculus, VIII. 27 ; V. 787—
by whom discovered ? XIII. 208. See
Fluxions.
   thermometer, VI. 757, 760 ;
VII. 60 ; XIV. 725 5 XXI. 239.
Difform, VIII. 27.
Diffraction of light, VI. 640 ; XVI. 433.
Diffuse, VIII. 27.
Diffusion, VIII. 27.
Diobt (Sir Kenelm), VIII. 27—his son’s
blind preceptor, IV. 702. t
Digest of Roman laws, VIII. 27.
Digester, Papin’s, I. 654; XX. 608, 577.
Digestion of food, VIII. 27,17 ; XVII.
581, 628 ; XXL 623 — theories of,
XVII. 629—in reptiles, III. 36—pe¬
culiar to animals, 157—Luther’s vi¬
sions the effect of derangement of, 298,
n. 1 — comparative digestibility of
different aliments, VIII. 21—influence
of nervous energy on, XVII. 135—in
serpents, XX. 130—Spallanzani’s ex¬
periments on, XX. 524—organs of, in
man, II. 814 ; brutes, III. 32 ; XVII.
702, etse?.,- the Crustacea, VII. 498
—insects, IX. 84 ; fishes, XII. 159 ;
the mollusca, XV. 326, 351, et seq. ;
birds, XVI. 554, 604 ; serpents, XX.
130; zoophytes, XXL 990—diseases
of the digestive organs in the domes¬
tic animals, XXI. 621.
  , in chemistry, VIII. 27.
Digestive, in medicine, VIII, 27.
Digges (Sir Dudley), V. 311.
    (Leonard) VIII. 27—on Archi¬
medes’s burning glasses, V. 729—
DIG—DIO
the alleged inventor of spectacles*
XVI. 351.
Digges (Thomas), VIII. 27.
Digging, in mining, VIII. 27.
Digit, VIII. 28 ; III. 543.
Digital numeration, II. 8.
Digitalin, VI. 467.
Digitalis, poisonous, XIV. 586.
Digitigrada, in zoology, XIV. 108—struc¬
ture of, XVII. 704.
Digliggt Neur, VIII. 28.
Diglyph, in architecture, VIII. 28.
Digne, in France, VIII. 28.
Dignitary, VIII. 28.
Dignity, VIII. 28—of character, ib.
Digny, French town, VIII. 29.
Digon, French town, VIII. 29.
Du, VIII. 29.
Dijambus, in poetry, VIII. 30.
Dijon, in France, VIII. 30.
Dike, VIII. 30—in collieries, VII. 71—
construction of dikes for confining
water, XII. 15.
Dilapidation, in law, VIII. 30.
Dilatability, universally a property of
bodies, XX, 751.
Dilatation, in physics, VIII. 30.
Dilator, or speculum, XX. 822, n.
Dilemma, in logic, VIII. 30 ; XIII. 452.
Dill, XI. 675.
Dillenburg, in Nassau, VIII. 30.
Dilleniaceae, in botany, V. 95.
Dillenius (John James), VIII. 30.
Dillingen, in Bavaria, VIII. 31.
Dillwyn (William), his opposition to the
slave-trade, XX. 384.
Dilophus, insect, IX. 264.
Dilute, VIII. 31.
Diluvium, VII. 702 ; XV. 221.
Dimache, ancient horsemen, VIII. 31.
Dimension, in geometry, VIII. 31.
Diminution, VIII. 31.
Diminutive, in grammar, VIII. 31.
Dimissory Letters, VIII. 31.
Dimitri Ivanovitch, XIX. 533.
Dimcerit.®, VIII. 31.
Dimotika, Turkish town, VIII. 31.
Dimsdale (Thomas), VIII. 31.
Dimyaires, mollusca, XV. 366.
Dinagepore, in Bengal, VIII. 32.
Dinan, in France, VIII. 32.
Dinant, in the Netherlands, VIII. 32.
Dinapoor, Hindu town, VIII. 32.
Dinarian Alps, II. 559.
Dinazzano, Italian town, VIII. 32.
Dindigul, in India, VIII. 32.
Binding, island, VIII. 32.
Dinetus, insect, IX. 229.
Dingwall, town in Ross-shire, VIII.
32—vitrified fort near, IX. 756.
Dinkelsbuhl, in Bavaria, VIII, 33.
Dinner, VIII. 33.
Dinocrates, architect, VIII. 33.
Dinostratus, geometer, X. 424—on the
squaring of the circle, XX. 553.
Dinslaken, in Westphalia, VIII. 33.
Dio of Syracuse, apparition said po have
been seen by, III. 297.,
Dio Chrysostom, VIII. 33.
Diocese, VIII. 33.
Diocleia, VIII. 33.
Diodes of Carystus, II. 687; XX. 822.
 , mathematician, XIV. 315.
Diocletianus (C. V. J.), Roman em¬
peror, VIII. 33—his palace at Spala-
tro, II. 138—baths of, IV. 441—era
of, VI. 660—siege of Alexandria by,
VIII. 476—reign of, XIX. 413.
Dioctria, insect, IX. 268.
Diodati (John), VIII. 33—-his French
Bible, IV. '617.
Diodatus, his blindness, IV. 700.
Dioderma, insect, IX. 176.
Diodon, fish, XII. 228.
— , one of the mammalia, XIV. 182.
Diodorus Siculus, VIII. 34—his ac¬
count of the Amazons, II. 588—on
Egyptian architecture, III. 409—on
Egyptian history, VIII. 460.
Diogenes, the cynic, VIII. 34'; VII.
574—on mysteries, XV. 673.
 of Apollonia, VIII. 34 ; II. 686.
 Laertius, VIII. 34; XIX. 779.
DIO—DIS
Diomedea, bird, XVI. 632.
Diomedes, king of JEtolia, VIII. 35-
character of, XVIII. 150.
Dion, VIII. 35; XVIII. 15, et seq.—
Dionysius, king of Syracuse, dethroned
by, XXI. 56.
 Cassius, historian, VIII. 35.
 , philosopher, death of, VIII. 475,
Dionis (Peter), VIII. 35—his anatomi¬
cal demonstrations, II. 698.
Dionix, insect, IX. 187.
Dionusus, VII. 692.
Dionysia, Greek solemnities, VIII. 35.
Dionysiaca, VIII. 35.
Dionysiacs of Ionia, III. 379.
Dionysian Period, VI. 9.
Dionysius I., VIII. 35 ; XXI. 55 ;
XVIII. 15, et seq.—his war with the
Carthaginians, VI. 185.
 II., VIII. 35 ; XXL 56.
 — Areopagita, an early Christian
convert, VIII. 36 ; XV. 674.
 , or Bacchus, IV. 272 ; XVI. 654
—mysteries of, XIV. 281 ; XV. 663.
 , geographer, VIII. 36.
  Halicarnassensis, VIII. 36;
XVII. 406, n. 2—notices of the works
of, III. 263-5; VI. 710.
 the Lesser, VIII. 36—his col¬
lection of canons and decretals, VI.
92—the Christian era first employed
by, 655.
  — the Periegetic, X. 396.
Diophantine problems, in mathema¬
tics, VIII. 36.
Diophantus, VIII. 36—work of, I. 441
—his system, 591—on algebra, II. 421
translations of his work, ib.—his al¬
gebraic knowledge compared with that
of the ancient Hindus, 425—on geo¬
metrical analysis, XIV. 315.
Diopithes, Athenian governor, his inva¬
sion of Macedon, XIII. 628.
Dioptase, a mineral, VIII. 36; XV. 146.
Diopter, or Dioptra, VIII. 36.
Dioptrics, VIII. 36 ; XVI. 382.
Dioscorides, physician, VIII. 36—on
sal-ammoniac, II. 660.
Dioscorine®, in botany, V. 134,
Dioscuria, ancient festival, VIII. 36.
Diosmese, in botany, V. 104.
Diosopolis, or Thebes, in ancient Egypt,
XXL 199. See Thebes.
Dioszeg, town in Hungary, VIII. 36.
Diotimfe, XX. 440.
Dip of strata, VII. 72—pf the magnetic
needle, XIII. 606,730,742—dipping-
needles, 767, et seq.; VIIL 38.
Diphthong, in grammar, VIIL 36.
Diphucephala, insects, IX. 159.
Diphyes, zoophytes, XXL 1018.
Diploe, II. 741, 774, 775.
Diploma, VIII. 36.
Diplomatics, VIII. 36.
Diploprion, fish, XIL 168.
Diploptera, insects, IX. 230.
Diplostoma, in zoology, XIV. 137.
IJipondius, VIII. 38.
Dipping, in mining, VIIL 38.
Dipping-needle, VIIL 38; XIII. 767,
et seq.
Dippoldiswalde, in Saxony, VIII. 38.
Bipsacece, in botany, V. 116.
Dipsas, serpent, VIIL 38 ; XX. 141.
Diptera, an order of insects, VIII. 38;
IX. 60, 255.
Dipterocarpeae, in botany, V. 100.
Dipterodon, fish, XII, 180.
Dipteros, in architecture, III. 466.
Diptotes, in grammar, VIII. 38.
Diptycha, VIII. 38.
Dipus, in zoology, XIV. 136.
Dipyre, in mineralogy, XV. 153—speci¬
fic gravity of, XII. 29.
Diraj, in mythology, VIII. 39.
Dircaea, insect, IX. 166.
Direct, in arithmetic, VIII. 39.
Direction, VIIL 39.
Director, VIIL 39.
Diribitores, VIII. 39.
Dirigent, in geometry, VIII. 39.
Dis, VIII. 39.
Disability, in law, VIII. 39.
DIS
Disappointment (Islands of),VIII. 39.
Disc, VIII. 39—in botany, V. 42.
Disciple, VIIL 39.
Discipline, VIII. 39—Scotch Book of,
40 ; XIX. 735, 763.
Discoboli, in ichthyology, XII. 221.
Discobolus, statue of the, VIII. PI. 194.
Discomyza, insect, IX. 290.
Discorbis, in conchology, XV. 345.
Discord, VIII. 40 ; II. 122.
Discount, in commerce, VIIL 40,
Discrete proportion, VIII. 41.
  QUANTITY, VIIL 41.
Discretion, VIIL 41.
Discussion, VIIL 41.
Discutients, in medicine, VIII. 41.
Disdiaclastic crystal, VIIL 41.
Disdiapason, in music, VIIL 41.
Disease, VIIL 41; XVII. 121, 476—its
influence on the mind, VIII. 441—
effects of electricity on, VIII. 640—
—simulated diseases, XIV. 495—de¬
finitions of, XVII. 123—proximate
causes of, ib.—organic causes, 125—
functional or dynamic causes, 130—
distinction of organic and dynamic,
XVII. 481, 497—treatment of diseases
of the domestic animals, XXI. 612.
See Pathology, Physic (Practice of),
Medicine, Medical Jurisprudence,
Surgery, Health.
Disembogue, VIII. 41.
Disfranchizing, VIII, 41.
Disguise, VIIL 41.
Dish, VIIL 41.
Dishley breed of sheep, II. 329.
Disjunctive, VIIL 41.
Dislocation, VIIL 41; XVII. 129—
surgical treatment of, XX. 836.
Disna, in Russia, VIIL 41.
Dispart, in gunnery, VIIL 41.
Dispatch, VIII. 42.
Dispauper, VIIL 42.
Dispensary, VIIL 42—London dispen¬
saries, XIII. 517.
Dispersion, VIII. 42—of light, ib.;
XVI. 408—point of, VIII. 42—of
mankind, ib.
Displayed, in heraldry, VHL 43,
Dispondee, VIIL 43.
Disquisition, VIII. 43.
Diss, a town in Norfolk, VIIL 43.
Dissection, in anatomy, VIIL 43.
Disseisin, in law, VIII. 43.
Dissenters, VIII. 43—in England, VIII.
789—in Scotland, XIX. 764—their
petition in 1772 for relief, V. 395,
396—their attempts in 1787, 1790,
and 1791, to get the corporation and
test acts repealed, V. 443, 457, 459-
Earl Stanhope’s bill in 1789 for their
relief, 455—repeal of the above-men¬
tioned acts, 573.
Dissepiments, in botany, V. 45, 47,
Dissidents, VIIL 43.
Dissimulation, VIIL 43.
Dissipation, VIIL 43,
Dissolvent, VIII. 43.
Dissolution, VIIL 43.
Dissonance. See Discord.
Dissyllable, VIIL 43.
Distaff, VIII. 43; XX. 536,
Distance, VIIL 43—accessible and in¬
accessible, ib.—of the heavenly bodies,
ib.—mensuration of distances, XIV.
563; by.sound, II. Ill—perception
of, XIV. 611.
Distaste, VIIL 43.
Distemper, VIIL 43. See Disease.
Distension, VIII. 43.
Disthene, or kyanite, electrical pro¬
perties of, VIII. 578. See Kyanite.
Distich, VIIL 43.
Distichiasis, VIII. 43.
Distichocera, insect, IX. 179.
Distichophoridte, zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Distillation, VIIL 44—from potatoes,
XVI. 267—in vacuo, XX. 576—by
steam, 608 — in Clackmannanshire,
VI. 721—in America, XXL 465.
Distinction, in logic, VIIL 53.
Distoma, in zoophytes, XXL 996.
Distortion, in medicine, VIIL 53.
52
INDEX,
DIS—DOC
Distress, VIII. 53—pleasure from, ib.
 , in law, VIII. 55.
Distribution, VIII. 5G—geographical
distribution of animals, XVII. 549 ;
III. 161; II. 652.
District, in geography, VIII. 56.
Distringas, VIII. 56—juratores, ib.
Distylo, in architecture, III. 466.
Ditch, VIII. 56—in fortification, ib.—
IX. 772.
Dithyrambus, VIII. 56.
Ditomus, insect, IX. 120.
Ditone, in music, VIII. 56.
Ditriglyph, III. 466.
Ditrihedria, VIII. 56.
Ditteah, Hindu town, VIII. 56; V. 704.
Dittfurt, in Saxony, VIII. 56.
Ditto, VIII. 56.
Ditton (Humphry), VIII. 56.
Diu, in Hindustan, VIII. 57.
Diurna, insects, IX. 240.
Diyal, in heraldry, VIII. 57.
Divalia, Roman feast, VIII. 57.
Divan, VIII. 57.
Divandurow, islands, VIII. 57.
Divergent, VIII. 57—rays, ib.
Divers, birds, XVI. 629. See Diving.
Diversifying, VIII. 57.
Diversion, in war, VIII. 57.
Divesting, VIII. 57.
Divi-divi, XXI. 77.
Divination, VIII. 57 ; XIV. 579; IV.
191, 257—Roman, III. 257—by mir¬
rors, VI. 249 — among the Druids,
VIII. 209.—in ancient Athens, XX.
456—Sortilege, 482.
Divine, VIII. 58.
Divine right of kings, V. 632.
Diving, VIII. 59—for pearls in Ceylon,
VI. 301. See Pearl.
Diving-bell, VIII. 63.
Divinity, VIII. 70. See God.
Divisibility, VIII. 70.
Division, VIII. 71—in algebra, II. 429,
433—in arithmetic, III. 547—of vul¬
gar fractions, 559—of decimals, 561,
562, 565—by Napier’s Rods, XV. 693.
  of labour. See Labour.
Divitiaticus the iEduan, VIII. 205.
Divodasa, V. 636.
Divorce, VIII. 71—in Arabia, III. 335
—Milton on, XV. 93, note.
Divus and Diva, VIII. 73.
Dixa, insect, IX. 262.
Dixan, Abyssinian town, II. 55.
Dixmuyden, VIII. 73.
Dixon (Jeremiah), IX. 549.
Dizier, French city, VIII. 73.
Djerash, ruins of, XVI. 745.
Djezzar Pasha, VIII. 490; XVI. 741,
759; XXL 64.
Djidda, commerce of, III. 337.
Djirdjeh, VIII. 544.
Djizeh, pyramids at, VIII. 547.
Dlugosz, Polish writer, XVIII. 213.
Dmitri, XIX. 537.
Dnieper, river, IV. 660 ; XIX. 564.
Dniester, river, XIX. 564 ; IV. 660.
Do, in music, VIII. 73.
Doab, VIII. 73; 11.249.
DOABEII BARRY, VIII. 73.
Dobberan, VIII. 74.
Dobchick, bird, XVI. 629.
Dobenatis, IX. 378.
Dobereiner, his discovery of a property
of platinum, XXI. 679.
Dobrushka, in Bohemia, VIII. 74.
Dobschau, in Hungary, VIII. 74.
Dobson (Dr), on evaporation, IX. 428.
• (William), painter, VIII. 74.
Dobuni, VIII. 74.
Doce, river, XVIII. 458.
Docet^e, religious sect, VIII. 74.
Docimasia, VIII. 74.
Docimastic art, VIII. 74.
Docimenum Marmor, VIII. 74.
Dock, VIII. 74, 75—docks of Liver¬
pool, XIII. 889 —of London, 493;
XV. 61. See Portsmouth, &c.
Dock-yards, VIII. 78. See Dry Rot.
Doctor, VIII. 88, 89—degree of, XXI.
487, 490,498, 504.
Document, in law, VIII. 89.
DOD—DOM
Dodart’s theory of voice, XVII. 683.
Dodd (Ralph), on dry rot, VIII. 227.
 (Dr Wm.), VIII. 89 ; XII. 598.
Doddridge (Philip), D.D., VIII. 89.
Dodecagon, VIII. 89.
Dodecahedron, VIII. 89.
Dodecastyle, in architecture, III. 466.
Dodington (Bubb), VII. 542.
Dodo, bird, XVI. 616.
Dodona, town in Epirus, YIII. 89.
Dodonian, VIII. 90.
Dodonides, VIII. 90.
Dodrans, VIII. 90.
Dodsley (Robert), VIII. 90—his An¬
nual Register, V. 713.
Dodson (James), his paper on bills of
mortality, XV. 515.
Dodwell (Henry), VIII. 90—on bap¬
tism, IV. 355—Dr Samuel Clarke’s
Letter to, VI. 729.
Dofar, Arabian seaport, VIII. 90.
Dofary, Arabian town, VIII. 90.
Dofrines, IX. 407.
Dog, XIV. 112 ; XI. 697—structure of,
XVII.704—African,II. 228—“worm”
of tongue of, III. 27—vocal organs,
28 — venerated by the Egyptians,
277—wild Asiatic, 682—instance of
presentiment in a, V. 617—memory
of, XIV. 618—bite of mad dog poison¬
ous, 507—sporting dogs, XX. 309—
pointers and setters, ib.—spaniel, 311
—retrievers, ib.—question as to the
descent of all dogs from one common
stock, 309—breaking of, 311—their
sense of smell, 404—peritonitis in,
XXI. 625—hydrophobia, 633. See
Hound, Veterinary Science.
Dog-language, XI. 755; XX. 311.
Dog-days, VI.-81.
Dog-fish, XII. 233.
Dog Island, VIII. 90.
Doge, VIII. 90.
Dogger and Doggers, VIII. 91.
Dogma, VIII. 91.
Dogmatical, VIII. 91.
Dogmatists, VIII. 91.
Dogmell (St), Welsh town, VIII. 91.
Doho, Hindu town, VIII. 91.
Doig (David), VIII. 91.
Dolabella, mollusca, XV. 362.
Dolah, Hindu town, VIII. 93.
Dolci (Carlo), painter, VIII. 93.
Dole, VIII. 94.
Doliah, Hindu town, VIII. 94.
Dolichopodes, insects, IX. 276.
Dolichopus, insect, IX. 277.
Dolichurus, insect, IX. 229.
Dolium, in conchology, XV. 347.
Dollar, coin, VIII. 94.
Dollond (John),VIII. 94 ; I. 633—his
achromatic glasses, 634 ; II. 101;
XVI. 362—his variation transit, and
diurnal variation instrument, XIII.
767—his double-image micrometer,
XV. 14—his eye-glasses of telescopes,
XXI. 162, 168.
  (Peter), VIII. 95—his achro¬
matic glasses, II. 103.
   (George), his spherical crystal,
micrometer, XV. 19.
Dolomedes, araehnides, III. 362.
Dolomieu (Deodatus &c. de), VIII. 95.
Dolomite, a mineral, XV. 141—sp. gr.
of, XII. 29—Tennant on the, XXI. 180.
Dolorskoi, VIII. 98.
Dolphin, XII. 187 ; XIV. 174.
 Islands, VIII. 98.
 of the mast, VIII. 98.
Dolschy, in Wallachia, VIII. 98.
Dom, or don, VIII. 98.
Dom and Som, VIII. 98.
Domat (John), VIII. 98.
Dombey, botanist, V. 82.
Dome, VlII. 98 ; III. 466—of Church of
San Vitale at Ravenna, 260—indented
by the Etrurians, 379—of Church of
St Sophia at Constantinople, 380—
construction of, 388—equilibrium of,
389—of St Paul’s, London, 388, 389
—of St Peter’s, Rome, 391, 426, 457
—best form of, 391—of cathedral
at Florence, 424—the boast of Italian
DOM—DOR
architecture, 426 — of the Farnese
Palace, Rome, ib., 457—its beauty
considered,457—construction of wood¬
en domes, XIX. 456.
Dome, or doom, VIII. 98.
Domea, in Tungquin, VIII. 98.
Domenichino, (Lampieri), Italian pain¬
ter, VIII. 98 ; XVI. 720.
Domergue, VIII. 502.
Domery (Charles), voracity of, VIII. 23.
Domesday book, VIII. 99—King Al¬
fred’s, II. 419.
Domestic, VIII. 100—pleasures, ib.—
affections, III. 261.
Domfront, in France, VIII. 101.
Domicile, in Scotch law, YIII. 101.
Domifying, VIII. 101.
Dominant, VIII. 101.
Domination, in theology, VIII. 101.
Domingo (St), VIII. 102 ; II. 648—army
of, III. 616—abandoned by the British
in 1798, V. 486—French invasion of,
in 1801, 512—buccaneers of, 620—
length of the pendulum in, VII. 199.
Dominic de Guzman, VIII. 107.
Dominica, VIII. 107, 108.
Dominical, VIII. 108.
 letter, VIII. 108 ; VI. 8.
Dominicans, religious order, VIII. 108
—origin of the, XII. 285.
Dominis (Mark Antony de), VIII. 108—
on the rainbow, I. 510 ; XVI. 354.
Dominium directum, VIII. 108.
Dominus, VIII. 108.
Domitian, reign of, XIX. 406.
Domo d’Ossolo, VIII. 108.
Domus, Hindu town, VIII. 109.
Don, Russian river, VIII. 109 ; XIX.
564—Scotch river, VIII. 109 ; II. 29.
Don Kossacks (land of), VIII. 109.
Donabew, V. 567.
Donacia, insects, IX. 181.
Donald, king of Scotland, XIX. 702.
Donaldson (Walter), VIII. 109.
   on Scotch husbandry, II. 261.
Donaldson’s Hospital, VIII. 425.
Donaldsonville, Louisiana, XIII. 573.
Donaria, VIII. 110.
Donat (Jerome), V. 17.
Donatello, his sculpture, XX. 8.
Donation, VIII. 110.
Donatists, VIII. 110 ; II. 580.
Donative, VIII. 110.
Donato, Italian town, VIII. 110.
Donatory, in law, VIII. 110.
Donatus (H21ius), VIII. 110.
Donaueschingen, VIII. 110.
Donawerth, in Bavaria, VIII. 110.
Donax, in conchology, XV. 342.
Doncaster, in Yorkshire, VIII. no.
Dondour, temple of, XVI. 297.
Dondrahead, in Ceylon, VIII. 111.
Donegal, Irish county, VIII. 111.
Dongola, Nubian town, VIII. 114.
Doni (G. B.), on melody, XV. 619.
Donkaw, in Russia, VIII. 114.
Donkin (Mr), his invention of printing-
rollers, XVIII. 562.
Donne (Dr John), VIII. 115.
Donnington, in Lincoln, VIII. 115.
Donnington Wood Canal, XVI. 12.
Donnybrook fair, VIII. 236.
Donovan on birds, XVI. 551.
Donskaia, in Russia, VIII. 115.
Doomsday Book. See Domesday.
Doonah, Hindu town, VIII. 115.
Doondeakera, Hindu town, VIII. 115.
Doornick. See Tournai.
Doors, in architecture, III.-462 — in
joinery, V. 689—hinging of, XII. 614.
Doorydroog, VIII. 115.
Dooryghaut, VIII. 115.
Dooshak, VIII. 115; XX. 79.
Dooshee, XI. 710.
Dor, VIII. 115.
Doracerus, insect, IX, 178.
Dorado, constellation, VIII. 115.
Dorak, Persian town, VIII. 115.
Doran, Arabian town, VIII. 115.
Doras, fish, XII. 202.
Dorat, French town, VIII. 115.
 (John), VII. 634.
Dorcadion, insect, IX. 180.
DOR—DOV
Dorchester, VIII. 115, 292.
Dordogne, in France, VIII. 116.
Dorfel on the cometary orbits, VII. 137.
Dorheim, in Hesse Cassel, VIII. 116.
Doria (Andrew), VIII. 116—his expedi¬
tion against Algiers, II. 506.
Dorians, VIII. 116.
Doric, VIII. 118.
 order of architecture, III. 471,
et seq.—its origin, 415—Roman, 418,
443, 449 —modern Italian, 425, 451—
Greek, 434, 437—remarks on, 460.
   dialect, VIII. 118; XVII. 404.
 mode, in music, VIII. 118.
Doridium, molluseum, XV. 363.
Doring, or Daring, VIII. 118.
Doris, molluscum, XV. 359.
Dorking, town in Surrey, VIII. 118.
Dormans, French city, VIII. 118.
Dormant, in heraldry, VIII. 118.
Dormer, in architecture, VIII. 118.
Dormitory, VIII. 118.
Dormouse, XIV. 132—its hybernation,
III. 167.
Dornberg, VIII. 118.
Dornbirn, in the Tyrol, VIII. 118.
Dornoch, VIII. 118 ; XXL 11, 12.
 Firth, VIII. 119.
Dorobat, Arabian town, VIII. 119.
Dorogobush, VIII. 119.
Dorohoe, in Moldavia, VIII. 119.
Doroninsk, VIII. 119.
Dorpat, in Livonia, VIII. 119.
Dorrego (Don Manuel), V. 660.
Dorsal vertebrae, II. 761—muscles, 793.
Dorse, fish, XU. 218.
Dorsetshire, VIII. 119—fisheries of,
IX. 603—great oak in, XXI. 294.
Dorsibranchia, worms, XI. 219.
Dorsiferous plants, VIII. 121.
Dort, in Holland, VIII. 121—synod of,
III. 577 ; XL 3 ; XVIII. 515.
Dorthes (Mr), on a swarm of ants at
Montpellier, III. 243.
Dortmund, in Westphalia, VIII. 121.
Dory, fish, XII. 188.
Dory Harbour, VIII. 121.
Dorycera, insect, IX. 289.
Dorylus, insect, IX. 228.
Doryphora, insects, IX. 183.
Doryphori, VIII. 121.
Doryphorus, reptile, XIX. 142.
Dositheans, VIII. 121.
Dosser, VIII. 122.
Dotis, town in Hungary, VIII. 122.
Dotterel, bird, XVI. 617—shooting of,
XX. 307.
Douay, VIII. 122—Bible, IV. 618.
Double, VIII. 122—Employment, ib.
—Fichy or Fiche, 123—Octave, ib.—
Entry, IV. 790.
Doublers, electrical, VIII. 652.
Doublet, VIII. 123—lenses, XV. 33.
Doublets, a game, VIII. 123.
Doubling, VIII. 124.
Doubloon, VIII. 124; XV. 408.
Doubs, in France, VIII. 124.
Doubtful Island, VIII. 124.
Doubting, VIII. 124. See Sceptics.
Doudeville, VIII. 124.
Doudpoor, Hindu town, VIII. 124.
Douparra, Hindu town, VIII. 124.
Douglas (Gavin), VIII. 124—on Cax-
ton’s translation of Virgil, IV. 626.
 (Earls of), XIX. 713, 724.
 , Scotch town, VIII. 129.
 , town in the Isle of Man, VIII.
129 ; XIV. 209.
Douleia, VIII. 130.
Doulens, in France, VIII. 130.
Doune, in Perthshire, VIII. 130.
Dour, VIII. 130.
Dourdan, French town, VIII. 130.
Douro, river, VIII. 254 ; XX. 516.
Douw (Gerhard), painter, VIII. 130.
Dovan, river, VI. 720.
Dove. See Pigeon.
 river, VII. 735 ; XX. 558—Dovo
and Dearne Canal, XVI. 11.
 Island, VIII. 130.
Dove-colour, dyeing of, YIII. 34S.
Dovedale, X. 331.
Dove-tailing, VIII. 130.
INDEX.
DOV—DUE
Dover, in Kent, VIII. 130—scouring
of the harbour of, 194.
 , in Delaware, VIII. 131.
 , in New Hampshire, XVI. 105.
 Straits, VIII. 130—Blanchard’s
aerial voyage across, II. 189.
Dowager, VIII. 131.
Dowdal (Archbishop), XII. 303.
Dowelling, in joinery, V. 687.
Dower, VIII. 131.
Dowletabad, VIII. 131.
Down, Irish county, VIII. 131.
 of birds, VIII. 134—eider, 501.
  of plants, XI. 108.
Downham, in Norfolk, VIII. 134.
Downie, African town,, VIII. 134.
 (David), V. 476.
Downpatrick, VIII. 134—abbey of, 133
—Struel Wells near, ib.
Downs, VIII. 134.
Downton, town in Wilts, VIII. 134.
Dowrt, VIII. 134.
D’Oyly’s Letters to Sir William Drum¬
mond, VIII. 215.
Doxology, VIII. 134.
Drab, dyeing of, VIII. 343.
Drabler, VIII. 134.
Drabs, VIII. 134.
Drachm, VIII. 134; XIV. 469.
Draco, Athenian law-giver, VIII. 135 ;
IV. 143, 165.
 , constellation, VIII. 135.
 , reptile, XIX. 143 ; XVII. 714.
Draconarius, VIII. 135.
Dracontic month, VIII. 135.
Dragoman, VIII. 135.
Dragon, reptile, XIX. 143 — structure
of, XVII. 714.
Dragon’s blood, sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
 Head and Tail, VIII. 135.
Dragonet, fish, XII. 194.
Dragon-fly, IX. 210—lives after decapi¬
tation, III. 164.
Dragonnee, VIII. 135.
Dragoon. See Cavalry.
Dragoon-horses, XI. 593.
Dragooning, VIII. 135.
Draghignan, VIII. 135.
Drains, VIII. 135—of farms, II. 306—
of towns, XIV. 512; building of, V.
670—aqueduct drains, XXI. 792.
Draining, VIII. 136—in Cambridge¬
shire, VI. 34—does not raise the
temperature of a country, 764—of
collieries, VII. 70, 81—its relation
to irrigation, XII. 445—Mr Smith of
Deanston’s thorough draining, XX.
730—tile-draining, 731.
Drake (Sir Francis), English admiral,
VIII. 142 ; IV. 262—his expedition
to Cadiz, VIII. 757.
• (N.), on Shakspeare, VIII. 163.
Drama, VIII. 143—Chinese, VI. 558,
570—Greek, XX. 185, 447—Italian,
II. 417 — Peruvian, 627 —Spanish,
XVIII. 163; XX. 522—Aristotle on
dramatic poetry. III. 518 stage-
dances, VII. 014. See Comedy, Tra¬
gedy, Theatre.
Dramburg, VIII. 179.
Drammen, in Norway, VIII. 179.
Dran (Henri-Franqois le), French sur¬
geon, VIII. 179 ; XX. 829.
Draper (Dr), of New York, on magneto¬
electricity, XXI. 094.
Drapetis, insect, IX. 270.
Dras, river, VII. 623.
Drassus, genus of arachnides, III. 359.
Drastic medicines, VIII. 180—gum-
resins, VI. 491.
Drave, river, VIII. 180.
Drawback, VIII. 180.
Drawing, VIII. 180—by the camera lu-
cida, VI. 36—of miniatures, XV. 268
—drawings for joinery, XII. 606.
Draw-loom, XXI. 828.
Dray, VIII. 185.
Drayton (Michael), VIII. 185.
Breams, VIII. 186; XVII. 459, 674,
681; III. 307—of the blind, IV. 699-
interpretation of, XVI. 340.
Brebell (Cornelius), his thermometer,
IV. 392—his submarine vessel, VIII.
DRE—DRY
63—his discovery of the mode of dye¬
ing scarlet, VIII. 297.
Dredge (Mr), his scheme for a suspen¬
sion-bridge, XXI. 8.
Dredging, VIII. 193.
Drelincourt (Charles), VIII. 197.
 , anatomist, II. 699.
Drenthe, VIII. 198.
Dresden, VIII. 198—Napoleon at, X.
163—royal library at, XIII. 312—its
suburbs burnt by the Prussians,
XVIII. 677.
Dress. See Clothing.
Dreux, in France, VIII. 198.
Drevet (Peter), VIII. 198.
Dreyer (Matthew), his works on anony¬
mous books, IV. 627.
Driesen, Prussian city, VIII. 198.
Driffield, in Yorkshire, VIII. 198 —
navigation, XVI. 12.
Drift, VIII. 198—sail, ib.—wood, ib.
Drill, in mechanics, VIII. 198.
Drill-machines in farming, II. 267—
sowing with, 280, 286.
Drilling of soldiers, VIII. 198.
Drink, VIII. 198 ; XVII. 625.
Drinking, process of, XVIII. 125.
Dripstone, in architecture, III. 466.
Drissa, in Russia, VIII. 198.
Driving, VIII. 199.
Drogheda, VIII. 199—ancient monu¬
ment at New Grange, near, III. 414—
taken by Cromwell, XII. 371.
Drohicyn, in Russia, VIII. 200.
Drohobicz, in Galicia, VIII. 200.
Droitwich, VIII. 200—canal, XVI. 12
—salt-manufacture, XXI. 939.
Dromas, bird, XVI. 620.
Drome, in France, VIII. 200.
Dromecius, bird, XVI. 610.
Dromedary, species of camel, XIV. 157
—Asiatic, III. 682.
Dromius, insect, IX. 116.
Dromore, Irish town, VIII. 200.
Drone, VIII. 200. See Bee.
Dronero, Italian city, VIII. 200.
Dronfield, in Derbyshire, VIII. 200.
Drongo, bird, XVI. 571.
Drontheim, in Norway, VIII. 200.
Drop-measurer (Brewster’s), XII. 25.
Drops, form of, XII. 51.
 in architecture, III. 467.
Dropsy, VIII. 201 ; XVII. 127, 488—
state of urine in, VI. 501—in cattle,
XXL 625.
Droseraccre, in botany, V. 98.
Drosometer, XIV. 743.
Drosophila, insect, IX. 290.
Drososcope, VII. 749.
Drossen, Prussian city, VIII. 201.
Drowning, VIII. 201—death from,
XIV. 498—Royal Humane Society of
London, XIII. 518.
Drug-shops, police of, XIV. 508.
Drugs, Mexican, XIV. 801. See Phar¬
macy.
Drugget, VIII. 203.
Drdid^e, or Droium, VIII. 203.
Druids, VIII. 203—in Anglesey, III.
132—British, V. 295, 296, 299—Cel¬
tic, VI. 277—severities of the Romans
against them, XIX. 403.
Drum, VIII. 210—kettle-drum, ib.;
XV. 617—bass-drum, VIII. 210.
Drums, fish, XII. 176.
Drummond (Alex.), his lectures on the
civil law, VII. 545, n. 3.
  (Dr James), on the generation
of intestinal worms, XXI. 993, n. 1.
 (William), poet, VIII. 210.
 (Sir William), VIII. 214.
 light, XX. 28 ; XXI. 362.
Drumore, battle of, V. 362.
Drunkenness, VIII. 216—effects of, 24.
See Intoxication.
Drupe, in botany, V. 48.
Drury-Lane Theatre, XIII. 533 ; XXI.
193-4—roof of, VI. 169.
Druses, VIII. 217 ; XVI. 748 ; XXL
62, 63, 64, 65.
Drusius (John), VIII. 220.
Drusus, German expedition of, X. 476.
 (Livius), XIX. 392.
DRY—DUK
Dryades, nymphs, VIII. 221.
Dryander (Jonas), VIII. 221; V. 84.
Dryburgh abbey, IV. 599.
Dryden (John), VIII. 222 ; IX. 42—
on the haughtiness of Hobbes, I. 322
—on heroic plays, VIII. 171—his con¬
fession of indecency in his dramatic
works, 173—poetry of, XVIII. 171—
on Shakspeare, XX. 171.
Drying by steam, XX. 607.
Drylus, insect, IX. 144.
Drymeia, insect, IX. 284.
Dryomyza, insect, IX. 285.
Dryophis, serpent, XX. 140.
Dryopthorus, insect, IX. 174.
Dry rot, VIII. 226 ; XVI. 47—in ships,
VIII. 77, 78 ; XX. 273—means of pre¬
venting it, 274.
Dschaulan, XVI. 746.
Dsjabbe Tar, island, VIII. 233.
Dsjabbel, island, VIII. 233.
Dsjar, Arabian port, VIII. 233.
Dsjebi, Arabian town, VIII. 233.
Dsjezzar. See Djezzar.
Dsjobla, Arabian town, VIII. 233.
Dsjof, Arabian province, VIII. 233.
Duaren (Francis), XIX. 778, note.
Dublin, VIII. 233—Royal Irish aca¬
demy, II. 73—bridge built by Mr Ste¬
ven, VI. 290, n. 1—university, XII.
365 ; XXI. 522, 506—Trinity College
library, XIII. 304—Grand Canal, XVI.
22-Royal Canal, 23—police, XVIII.
253—early printing at, 549.
Dubloon, VIII. 124; XV. 408.
Dubno, in Russia, VIII. 248.
Dubot, Hindu town, VIII. 248.
Dubois (Jacques), anatomist, II. 694.
Dubos (Jean-Baptiste), VIII. 248.
Dubris, VIII. 248.
Ducaila, in Morocco, XV. 506.
Ducal, VIII. 249. See Duke.
Du Cange. See Cange.
Ducas, Greek historian, VIII. 249.
Ducat, VIII. 249 ; XV. 407, et seq.
Ducatoon, silver coin, VIII. 249.
Ducenarius, VIII. 249.
Ducentesima, VIII. 249.
Ducetius, II. 356.
Duchal (James), D.D., VIII. 249.
Duchenparah, VIII. 249.
Duchowtschina, VIII. 249.
Duchy, VIII. 249—court, 250.
Duck (Stephen), VIII. 250.
Ducks, XVI. 636,638—their voice, III.
29—Chinese, VI. 580.
Duck-billed platypus, XIV. 145.
Duck-feet oars, XX. 687, 688.
Ducking, VIII. 250.
Duckinshahabazpoor, VIII. 250.
Duckup, VIII. 250.
Duckworth (Admiral), V. 524; XXI.
414, n. 1.
Duclos (Charles Pineau), VIII. 250.
Ducoucdie’s hive, III. 284.
Duct, VIII. 251.
Ductility, VIII. 251; XX. 749, 752.
Ductolosse, in botany, V. 37, 138.
Dudley, VIII. 251—canal, XVI. 12.
 Lord Guildford, VIII. 752, 754.
 (Edmund), VIII. 251.
  (John) Duke of Northumber¬
land, VIII. 251.
 (Robert), Earl of Leicester, VIII.
758.
 (Sir Robert), Earl of Warwick,
VIII. 251.
Duel, VIII. 252; VI. 601, 616, 617—
with the sword, IX. 501.
Duero, river, VIII. 254 ; XX. 516.
Dufay (Mons.) on dyeing, VIII. 297—
cn electricity, 567 ; I. 617.
Duff’s group, VIII. 254.
DuoDALEfSir William), VIII. 254.
Dugong, in zoology, XIV. 170.
Duhalde. See Halde.
Duhamel. See Hamel.
Dulcinus, III. 293.
Dules, fish, XII. 169.
Duillius Nepos, VIII. 257 ; VI. 190.
Duisburg, Prussian city, VIII. 257.
Duke, VIII. 257.
Dukla, Austrian city, VIII. 257.
53
DHL—DUN
Dulong (Mons.) on the heat of elastic
fluids, XII. 119 ; XX. 485—on the
pyrometer, XVIII. 749, et seq.—ac¬
count of his experiments on the force
of steam, XX. 586.
Dulse, V. 138.
Dulverton, in Somerset, VIII. 257.
Dulwich college, II. 525.
Dumarsais (Cesar Chesnau), VIII. 258.
Dumb. See Deaf and Dumb.
Dumbarton, VIII. 258 ; XIX. 697.
Dumblane, in Perthshire, VIII. 260.
Dumbowitska, VIII. 261.
Dumeril, his classification of animals,
III. 177 ; XVII. 586—his division of
the works of nature, XV. 739—on li¬
zards, XIX. 140.
Dumfries, Scotch county, VIII. 261—
fisheries of, IX. 602—town, VIII. 262-
Dumont (Etienne), VIII. 264—Ben-
tham’s obligations to, I. 386.
  (John), VIII. 267.
Dumouriez (General), V. 465, 471 ; X.
66, etseq. ; XVI. 123, 124.
Dumpalis, in Celebes, VIII. 267.
Dun, or Burgh, VIII. 267.
Dun river navigation, XVI. 12.
Dun-faced breed of sheep, II. 330.
DUna, river, XIX. 566.
Dunaburg, in Russia, VIII. 268.
Dunadeer, vitrified fort at, IX. 755.
Dunal (Mons.), on the floral organs of
plants, V. 53, n.
Dunbar, VIII. 268—battle of, V. 335.,,
  (William), VIII. 268—charac¬
ter of his poetry, XVIII. 169.
 (Prof.), on Dr Hunter’s gram¬
matical views, X. 697, n. 2, 700.
Duncan (Adam, Lord Viscount), VIII.
275—his defeat of the Dutch at Cam-
perdown, V. 482 ; X. 107.
  (Charles), exploratory voyages •
of, XVIII. 220.
  (John), of Glasgow, his tam-
bouring-machine, VII. 407.
 (Mark), VI. 39, n. 1.
Duncan’s Sugar-Loaf, VIII. 279.
Dunchurch, in Warwick, VIII. 279.
Duncombe (William), VIII. 279.
Dundalk, VIII. 279 ; XIII. 576.
Dundas (Henry), Viscount Melville,
VIII. 279—his measures relative to
the affairs of the East India Com¬
pany, V. 428, 429, 435, 442, 455, 470
—on the slave-trade, 461—his defence
of the expedition to Holland, 494—
his administration, 497—his defence
of the management of the French
war, 498 —charges of malversation
against him, 520—his trial, 521—his
services to the navy, VIII. 87.
Dundee, in Forfarshire, VIII. 280—
linen-manufacture of, XIII. 360.
 (James Graham, Viscount). See
Graham (James).
Dunfermline, VIII. 281.
Dung, use and management of, in agri¬
culture, II. 299. Sec Manure.
Dungally, in Celebes, VIII. 282.
Dungannon, VIII. 282 ; XXI. 441.
Dungarvon, VIII. 282—fishery and
trade of, XXI. 811.
Dungye, Hindu town, VIII. 282.
Dunipace, hills of, VI. 177.
Dunkeld, VIII. 286—bridge at, V. 283
,—cathedral of, VIII. 126—larch-tim¬
ber at, XXL 296.
Dunkirk, VIII. 282—sold by Charles
II. to France, V. 343; XL 769.
Dunleary, VIII. 234.
Dunlin, bird, XVI. 623.
Dunlop cheese, VII. 591.
Dunmow (Great), VIII. 283.
Dunn’s improved Atwood’s machine,
XIV. 453—air-pump, XVIII. 94, n.
Dunning (John), Lord Ashburton, VIII.
283—his motion in Parliament on the
influence of the Crown, V. 410.
Dunnose, XXI. 355-6.
Dunnotar Castle, XII. 722.
Duns (John), Scotus, VIII. 283—doc¬
trines of, I. 309, 418.
Dunse, in Berwickshire, VIII. 284.
I
54
INDEX
BUN—DYE
Ddnstable, VIII. 284.
Dunstan (St), VIII. 284, 703-5.
Dunstek, in Somerset* VIII. 285.
Dunsterville’sblock-machinery, IV. 704.
DtiNUM, VIII. 285*
Dcnwich, in Suffolk, VIII. 285.
Duodenum, anatomy of the, II. 815.
Duperrey (Monsieur), on the magnetic
equator, XIII. 743, 751.
Dupw (Louis Ellies), VIII. 285.
■ (Charles), on the military cha¬
racter of the English, III. 621—on
their artillery, 632, 633; dockyards,
VIII. 80 ; and navy, XVI. 54, 55—
on Napoleon’s Code Civil, XIII. 184
—on the hogging of ships, XX. 286.
Dupinascha, in Turkey, VIII. 285.
Duple, VIII. 285.
Duplicate, VIII. 285.
Duplication, VIII. 286.
Duplicature, VIII. 286.
Dupondius, VIII. 286; XIV. 474.
Dcppa (Brian), VIII. 286.
Duppau, Bohemian town, VIII. 286.
Dupuis (Mons.), his mission to Ashantee,
III. 667.
 — (Charles Francis), VIII. 286.
Dupuytren on erectile tissue, II. 725.
Duquella, VIII. 287.
Dura mater, II. 811; III. 32.
Duradsch, VIII. 287.
Durakah, island, VIII. 287.
Durandcs (William), VIII. 287.
Durango, Spanish town, VIII. 287.
 ,in Mexico, VIII. 287; XIV. 817.
Duration, VIII. 288. See Time.
Durbungah, Hindu town, VIII. 288.
Durckheim on insects, IX. 75, 96.
Duren, in Prussia, VIII. 288.
Durer (Albert), VIII. 288—his etch¬
ings, IX. 45—his merits as a pain¬
ter, XVI. 721—his improvements in
wood-engraving, XXI. 917.
Duresse, in law, VIII. 289.
D’Urfey (Thomas), VIII. 289.
Durham, English county, VIII. 289—
fisheries of, IX. 602.
city, VIII. 291—university of,
XXI. 507.
Durkheim, in Bavaria, VIII. 291.
Durlach, in Baden, VIII. 291.
Durochskoi, VIII. 291.
Duron, island, VIII. 291.
Durotriges, VIII. 291.
Durour’s Islanb, VIII. 292.
Durrajah, Hindu town, VIII. 292.
Durrampoor, VIII. 292.
Durrenstein, VIII. 292.
Dursley, VIII. 292.
Dury (John), VIII. 292.
Dusky Bay, VIII. 292.
Dussara, Hindu town, VIII. 292.
Dussaulx (John), VIII. 292.
Dusseldorf, VIII. 292.
Dust, unwholesome, XIV. 510.
 , Persian river, VIII. 293.
Dust-ball in animals, XXI. 626.
Dutch. See Holland.
 geneva, VIII. 51.
 weight, XXI. 390.
Dutens (Louis), VIII. *93—on the an¬
tiquity of the arch, V. 269.
Dutour on the colours of thin plates,
XVI. 433, 451.
Dutrochet on the capillaries, II. 725—
on vegetable anatomy, III. 45, 50.
Dutteah, V. 704.
Duty, VIII. 293; XV. 459, et seq.—
the Economists on, VIII. 400. See
Ethics, Ethical Philosophy.
 , in commerce, VIII. 294 ; XXL
115 ; VII. 562.
Duumviri, VIII. 294.
Duverney (Monsieur), his anatomical
discoveries, II. 700.
Dwal, in heraldry, VIII. 294.
Dwabaca, Hindu town, VIII. 294.
Dwarf, VIII. 294.
Dwina (Western), trade of, IV. 330.
  , river, XIX. 565 ; XXL 914.
Dycoteles, in zoology, XIV. 149.
Dydimus of Alexandria, IV. 700.
Dyeing, VIII. 295—Chinese skill in,
BYE—EAR
VI. 577—of fishing lines, III. 137—
of leather, XIII. 158—boiling of
liquids by steam, XX. 607. See Dye¬
stuffs.
Dyer (Sir James), VIII. 343.
 (John), VIII. 343—character of
his poetry, XVIII. 173.
Dyers, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Dye-stuffs, red, VIII. 306—yellow, 319
—blue, 325—black, 329—brown, 331
—of St Domingo, 107—imports of,
into the United Kingdom, 783 —
vegetable, VI. 483-shell-fish, XV.
374. See Anotta, Cochineal, &c.
Dynames, VII. 273.
Dynamics, VIII. 344; I. 602-6. See
Motion, Statics.
Dynamometer, VIII. 388—of plough,
II. 267—of steam-engine, XX. 681.
Dynasty, VIII. 389.
Dynops, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Dyrrhaehium, IX. 309—siege of, in 1033,
VII. 285—battle of, XIX. 397.
Dys®, goddesses, VIII. 389.
Dysart, town in Fife, VIII. 389.
Dyscrasy, VIII. 389.
Dysdera, genus of arachnides. III. 358.
Dysentery, a disease, VIII. 389 — in
sheep, XXI. 626.
Dysorexy, VIII. 389.
Dyspepsy, VIII. 389.
Dyspncea, VIII. 389.
Dytilus, insect, IX. 167.
Dytiscus, insect, IX. 134.
Dyvour, in Scotch law, VIII. 389.
Dziggithai, in zoology, XIV. 152.
E
E, letter of the alphabet, VIII. 389.
Eachard (John), divine, VIII. 389.
 (Laurence), historian, VIII. 389.
Eadmebus, or Eadmer, VIII. 389.
Eagle, bird, XVI. 562—its power of
fasting, III. 167.
———, in heraldry, &c., VIII. 390—
orders of knighthood, ib,
 Island, VIII. 390.
Eagles, base Irish coin, VIII. 390.
Eagle-stone, II. 199.
Eaglet, VIII. 390.
Eaheinomawe, IV. 215.
Ealderman, Saxon title, VIII. 391.
Ealing, in Middlesex, VIII. 391.
Ealred, II. 365.
Ear, VIII. 391—muscles.of, II. 794—
anatomy of, XVII. 665, 800—compa¬
rative anatomy of, III. 25—pain of,
in diving, VIII. 64—of fishes, XII.
158—of quadrupeds, XVII. 703 —
function of, 665—diseases of, in the
domestic animals, XXI. 636—musi¬
cal, VIII. 391; XV. 607. See Hearing.
Ear-trumpet, II. 118.
Ear-wax, II. 801.
Earing, sea term, VIII. 391.
Earl, British title, VIII. 391.
Earle (Bishop), his description of a
sceptic, I. 51.
Earn, loch, XVII. 289—river, 290.
Earne, river and lough. See Erne.
Earnest, VIII. 391.
Earnshaw’s scapement, VI. 793.
Earth, VIII. 391—speculations as to its
internal structure, I. 675—its annual
motion round the sun, II. 32—disco¬
very of the nutation of its axis. III.
745—measurement of the, ib.; VII.
678, 199 ; I. 501, et seq. ; 557, et seq. ;
III. 752 ; V. 144—its motions, III.
756; XVII. 498—form, III. 758;
IX. 546; X. 404; XV. 174; XVII. 498
—magnitude, III. 759 ; IX. 546 ; X.
393; XV7. 49 ; XVII. 498—nutation
of its axis, III. 768—motion of its
translation, 773—effects of its motion
on the appearances of the planets,
IV. 16—variations of its orbit, 58—
Mr Cavendish’s experiments to deter¬
mine its density, VI. 263—date of its
EAR—EBE
creation, VI. 656—final conflagration
of, VII. 211 — creation of, 454 —
its surface and general divisions, X.
407—its magnetism, XIII. 730—Has
its figure changed ? XV. 174—its den¬
sity, ib.; XVII. 499—temperature of
its surface, XV. 175; and of its in¬
terior, 176—its materials, 178—its
crust, 179, 277 ; XVII. 507—origin of
materials of crust, XV. 232—origin of
convulsive movements of crust, ib.—
changes of form of its surface, 237—
refrigeration of, 238—its equatorial
and polar diameters, 751—use of the
pendulum in determining its oblate¬
ness and density, XVII. 198, 217—its
position in the universe, 498 —its
surface, 499, et seq. See Figure of
the Earth, Globe.
Earths, in chemistry, VIII. 391; VI.
436—some kinds alimentary, VIII. 20.
Earthenware, manufacture of, XVIII.
437 ; in England, VIII. 779 ; in Staf¬
fordshire, XX. 558.
Earthquakes near .Etna, II. 204—at
Antioch, III. 252, 253—in the Azores,
IV. 262 ; Chili, VI. 526 ; China, 573 ;
the Ionian Islands, XII. 340; Ja¬
maica, 497; Japan, 511 ; Lisbon, X.
598 ; Luzon, XIII. 604 ; Merida,
XIV. .593 ; Norway, XVI. 203—
Quito, XVIII. 797 ; Sparta, XX. 526 ;
Sumatra, 802—their connexion with
volcanoes, XV. 229—changes on sur¬
face of earth, produced by, XVII. 511
—account of the principal, ib.
Earth-worm, XI. 222—hermaphrodite
nature of, III. 158.
Earwash, river, VII. 735.
Ear-wax, II. 801.
Earwig, IX. 189—methods of destroying
it, XXI. 602.
Easel Pieces, VIII. 391.
Easing, sea term, VIII. 391.
Easingwold, in Yorkshire, VIII. 391.
East, VIII. 391—Island, ib.
East India Company, XI. 159, 412, et
seq. 441; XIII. 500—its encourage¬
ment of botany, V. 77, n. 2—its go¬
vernment of Ceylon, 299, 305—par¬
liamentary inquiry into its affairs in
1772, 396—subsequent proceedings,
397—charges against it, ib.—Mr Fox’s
bills relative to its affairs, 429—its
misgovernment in India, 429, 440—
Mr Pitt’s bills, 432, 434, 435—Mr
Francis’s bill, 441—dispute with Go¬
vernment in 1788 about the payment
of soldiers sent to India, 449—re¬
newal of its charter in 1793, 470—
Burmese war, 567 ; XI. 440—colo¬
nies under its dominion, VII. 125—
its mercantile character, XI. 459—
Hertford College, XL 283—exporta¬
tion of bullion by, XVIII. 263.
East India Docks^ VIII. 76.
East Indies, commerce of, III. 701; X.
191—coins of, XV. 408,412—serpents
of, XX. 136—woods of, XXI. 299—
map of, vol. XII. PI. CCCVII-2.
Eastbourne, in Sussex, VIII. 391.
Easter, VIII. 391; VI. 8—determina¬
tion of its date, 14—Easter term at
Oxford, XXI. 498.
 Island, VIII. 392 ; XVIII. 328
—peopling of, II. 633.
Eastland Company, VII. 182.
Easton, in Pennsylvania, VIII. 392.
Eastport, in Maine, VIII. 392.
Eastwick’s galvanic battery, XXL 665.
Eating, instinctive, XII. 301.
Eaton. See Eton.
 (John), his visit to the Ladrone
Islands, XVIII. 317.
Eauze, French city, VIII. 392,
Eaves, in architecture, VIII. 392.
Eaves-droppers, VIII. 392.
Ebdomarius, or Hebdomarius, ecclesi¬
astical officer, VIII. 392.
Ebdome, festival, VIII. 392.
Ebenacese, in botany, V. 119.
Eberbach, in Germany, VIII. 392.
Eberhard (John Augustus), VIII. 392.
EBE—EBE
Ebermanstadt, VIII. 393.
Ebern, in Bavaria, VIII. 393.
Ebersbach, in Saxony, VIII. 393.
Ebersberg, VIII. 393—battle of, X. 151
Ebersdorf, VIII. 393.
Ebesfalva, in Hungary, VIII. 393.
Ebher, Persian town, VIII. 393.
Ebingen, Bavarian city, VIII. 393.
Ebion, heretic, VIII. 393.
Ebionites, VIII. 394.
Ebn Jounis, astronomer. III. 735.
Ebony, VIII. 394—sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
Eboulement, III. 118.
Ebro, Spanish river, VIII. 394 ; III.
373; VI. 239 ; XX. 516.
Ebsamboul, temple of, XVI. 296.
EBUDiE, islands, VIII. 394; XL 202.
Ebullition. See Boiling.
Eburnea, in conchology, XV. 347.
Ecalesia, ancient festival, VIII. 395.
Ecastor, VIII. 395.
Ecatejea, VIII. 395.
Ecatesia, Greek solemnity, VIII. 395.
Ecatomb.eon, VIII. 395.
Ecavessade, VIII. 395.
Ecbatana, Median city, VIII. 395,
Eccentric of steam-engines,XX. 652,698.
Ecchellensis (Abraham), VIII. 395.
Ecclbs, in Lancashire, VIII. 395.
Ecclesal-Bierlow, VIII. 395.
Ecclesfield, in Yorkshire, VIII. 395.
Eccleshall, in Stafford, VIII. 396.
Ecclesiastes, Book of, VIII. 396.
Ecclesiastical, VIII. 396.
 History, summary of, XL 486.
Ecclesiasticus, Jlook of, VIII. 396.
Eccloo, city in Flanders, VIII. 396.
Eccoprotics, in Medicine, VIII. 396.
Ecdala, town in Bengal, VIII. 396.
Ecdici, VIII. 396.
Ecdysis, IX. 91.
Echallams, in Switzerland, VIII. 396.
Echape and Echaper, VIII. 396.
Echeneis, fish, XII. 222.
Echidna, in zoology, XIV. 145.
Echimys, iff '-zoology, XIV. 132.
EchinadEB, islands, VIII. 396.
Echinate, or Echinated, VIII. 396.
Echinides, zoophytes, XXL 1003.
Echinites, fossils* VIII. 396.
Echinococcus, zoophyte, XXI. 995.
Echinodermata, zoophytes, VIII. 396}
XXI. 999—structure of, XVII. 721.
Echinorhynchus, zoophyte, XXI. 997.
Echinus, in architecture, III. 466.
 ,zoophyte, XXI. 1003—structure
of, XVII. 722.
Echo, VIII. 396—cause of. II. Ill, 119.
Echometer, in music, VIII. 307.
Ecija, city in Spain, VIII. 397.
Eckius, or Echius (John), VIII. 397.
Eclectics, VIII. 397.
Eclipse, VIII. 398 — eclipses of the
moon, IV. 7—of the sun, IX. 12 —
number of, in a year, 11—of Jupiter’s
satellites, 32—tables for the calcula¬
tion of lunar, 72—projection of lunar,
86, 93—elements for the projection of
solar, 90—eclipse of the sun in the
year 1748, XIII. 227.
 Islands, VIII. 398.
Ecliptic, VIII. 398 ; III. 765; X. 406-
its obliquity, III. 765.
Eclode, Hindu town, VIII. 398.
Eclogue, in poetry, VIII. 398.
Economists (French), VIII. 398; 1.183;
XVIII. 790.
Economy (Political). See Political.
Ecstasy, IX. 468.
Ecstatici, diviners, VIII. 410.
Ecthesis, VIII. 410.
Ecthlipsis, in prosody, VIII. 410.
Ectopistes, birds, XVI. 614.
Edam, island, VIII. 410.
Edambayanum, VIII. 410.
Edda, VIII. 410 ; XV. 683.
Eddy explained, XIV. 728.
Eddystone lighthouse, VIII. 411; XX.
16—erected by Smeaton, XX. 399.
Edelkrantz’s lamp, XIII. 43.
Eden, garden of, VIII. 411 ; XVII. 56.
 , river, VII. 536; IX. 543—its
navigation, XVI. 12.
INDEX
55
EBE—EDIT
Eden (Sir F.) quoted, VII. 333, 334.
Edentata, in zoology, XIV, 141—their
bones, III. 3, et seq.—organs of smell,
21—ears, 26—intestines 37.
Edeb, Hindu town, VIII. 411,
Edessa, in Macedonia, VIII. 411,
Edfou, IX. 375—temple of, III. 432—
antiquities at, VIII. 533,
Edgar, king of England, VIII. 704—his
fleet, XX. 214.
 , king of Scotland, XIX. 702.
 Atheling, VHI. 708, 713, 715.
Edgehill, battle of, V. 324.
Edgeworth (R. Lovell), IV. 514—his
telegraph, XXI. 138.
 (Miss), her novels, XIX. 347,
Edgware, in Middlesex, VIII. 411.
Edhiling, VIII. 411.
Edict, in law, VIII. 411.
Edinburgh, VIII. 411—works for sup¬
plying it with water, III. 321—Ar¬
thur’s Seat, 632—azimuth and altitude
circle in Observatory, IV. 109—ve¬
terinary school, 378—Bible Society,
620—Asylum for the Blind, 697—
botanical school, V. 83, 84—North
Bridge, 271—Dean Bridge, 283—re¬
sistance to Episcopacy in 1637, 315—
siege of Castle in 1689, 361—anti-
Catholic disturbances in 1779, 412—
political prosecutions in 1793-4, 471,
47 6—Colleges of Physicians, Surgeons,
and Justice, VII. 69—publication of
the Edinburgh Review, 267—profes¬
sorship of civil law, 545—dairies, 589
—Deaf and Dumb Institution, 657—St
Bernard’s Well, X. 318—irrigated
meadows near, XII. 452—libraries in,
XIII. 300, et seq.—School of Arts,
XIV. 460 —erection of Infirmary,
XV. 420—Union Canal, XVI. 12—
newspapers, 168—school of painting,
728 —Crawley spring, XVII. 527 ;
III. 321; VIII. 427—society, XVIII.
49—early printing, 549, 554—dome
of the Register Office, XIX. 456 —
foundation of, 697—university, 765 ;
XXI. 518—Society of Antiquaries,
XX. 402—Royal Society, 434—pro¬
fessorship of the law of nature and
nations, 782-3—medical school, 830,
n. 4 ; 831.
Edinburghshire, VIII. 429.
Edingtonite, sp.gr. of, XII. 29,
Edmer, VIII. 389.
Edmonton, in Middlesex, VIII. 431.
Edmund, king of England, VIII. 703.
 Ironside, VHI. 707.
Edolius, bird, XVI. 571.
Edom, or Idununa, VIII. 431.
Edred, king of England, VIII. 703.
Edrenos, VIII. 431.
Edriophthalma, Crustacea, VII. 502—
their nervous system, 498,
Edrisi, Arabian geographer, VIII. 431.
Education, VIII. 433—extent of the
subject, and different questions which
it involves, ib.—theory of the human
mind ; its importance in the doctrine
of, 434—qualities of mind to produc¬
tion of which itshouldbe directed, 438
—happiness its end, 439—instruments
and practical expedients of, ib.—phy¬
sical circumstances which operate on
the mind in the way of, 440—moral
circumstances which so operate, 445
—domestic, ib.—technical, 447—social,
449—political, 450—physical, XI. 95
—classical, XVIII. 451—its effects
used as an argument against free
agency, I. 269—study of medicine
fitted to develope the intellect, 101
—cultivation of the domestic affec¬
tions, III. 261—utility of knowledge
of the civil law, 265 ; and of ancient
mythology, 267—culture of the ima¬
gination, ib.—effect of education on
taste, IV. 492—Brougham’s educa¬
tion bill in 1821, V. 551—its import¬
ance in a manufacturing country, VII.
415—the economists on, VIII. 403 
study of natural history, IX. 60—
importance of association of ideas in,
h
EBU—EDW
XI. 628—promoted by the Jesuits,
XII. 554—views of Bacoil, I. 38 ;
Locke, XIII. 408, n. 410; Milton,
XV. 30, 93 ; Df Parr, XVII. 94 »
Plato, XVIII. 39 $ Socrates, XX. 440
—schools as affecting health, XIV.
512. See Blind, Deaf and Dumb,
Universities—Education in Armagh,
III. 573—Austria, IV. 285—Bavaria,
461—Belgium, XVI. 124, 129—Bogo¬
ta, IV. 734—Bolivia, 753—Brazil, V.
205—Buenos Ayres, 654—Calcutta,
790—Carlow, VI. 144—Cavan, 257—
Chili, 536—Clare, 7 2 6—Colombia, VII.
92 — Connecticut, 264 — Constanti¬
nople, 271—Cork, 331—Crete, 465
—Denmark, 730—Donegal, VIII. 112
— Down, 132 — Dublin, 235, 242—
England, 789 $ XXI. 529— Ferma¬
nagh, IX. 517 —France, X. 203—
Georgia, 470—Germany, 487—Glas¬
gow, 545—ancient Greece, XX. 452—
Hindustan, XI. 465—Hungary, 724—
Iceland, XII. 144—Illinois, 249—Ire¬
land, 380, 424 ; XXI. 529—Italy,
XII. 486—Jamaica, 504—Japan, 516
— St John’s, 594—Kentucky, 699—
Kerry, 703—Kildare, 712—Kilkenny,
715—King’s County, 727—Kirkcud¬
brightshire, 736—Leitrim, XIII. 223
—Limerick, 349—London, 53?—Lon¬
donderry, 551—Longford, 556—Loui¬
siana, 575—Louth, 575—Isle of Man,
XIV. 212—Maryland, 272—Massa¬
chusetts, 303—Mayo, 338—Meath, 346
—Mexico, 807—Monaghan, XV. 380
—New Hampshire, XVI. 165—New
Jersey, XII. 544—New South Wales,
XXI. 719—New York, XVI. 191—
Norway, 273—Ohio, 328-Pennsylva¬
nia, XVII. 223—Persia, 253—Portu¬
gal, XVIII. 481—Prussia, 688, 697—
Queen’s County, 786—Rome, XIX.
437—Roscommon, 479—Russia, 581
—Sardinia, 647—Scotland, 765 $ VIII.
789; I. 249—Sligo, XX. 393—Spain,
521—Sparta, 528—Sweden, XXL 30
Switzerland, 50—Tennessee, 183-4—
Tipperary, 314 — Turkey, 426—Ty¬
rone; 439—Van Diemen’s Land, 555
—Venezuela, 592—Virginia, 659 —
Waterford, 810—Westmeath, 861—
Wexford, 866—Wicklow, 879—Wur-
temberg, 945.
Eductulosse, in botany, V. 37, 38, 138.
Edulcoration, VIII. 450.
Edward the Martyr, VIII. 705.
 the Confessor, VIII. 707.
 I., reign of, VIII. 725—charac¬
ter of, 726—his war with France, X.
14—his Scottish wars, XIX. 708—his
fleet, XX. 215.
   II., reign of, VIII. 726—murder
of, 727—his constitution of the Mint,
VII. 32—his treatment of the Irish,
XII. 356—his invasion of Scotland,
XIX. 709.
  HI., XI. 742—reign of,VIII. 727-
his encouragement of chivalry; VII. 612
—his wars with France, X. 16, et seq.—
his navy, XVI. 39 ; XX. 216—woollen
manufacture in his reign, XXI. 926.
 IV., reign of, VIII. 736—charac¬
ter of, 737—his laws for the promo¬
tion of archery. III. 399.
 V., reign of, VIII. 738.
   VI., reign of, VIII. 751—state
of the currency under, VII. 34—sta¬
tutes against forestalling and engross¬
ing corn, 334—religious persecution,
447—the Reformation promoted by,
XIX. 95—his fleet, XX. 221.
 , son of Alfred, VIII. 702.
 the Black Prince, VI. 604, 611;
VIII. 798—his expedition to Spain,
XX. 497.
 (Prince), Island, XII. 590.
Edwards (Bryan), on the negroes, XVI.
78—on the cultivation of'the sugar
cane, XX. 792.
  (George), naturalist, VIII. 450
—on birds, XVI. 548.
  — (Jonathan), VIII. 453—his
EBW—EGY
scheme Of riecessity, I. 148, 341—the
Only eminent Afflericari metaphysi¬
cian, 230—moral and intellectual cha¬
racter of, 340—makes virtue consist
in love of order, 341.
(Ur W. F.), his experiments on
the spawn of frogs, XIII. 340—on
animal tissues, XVII. 596—on cere¬
bral globules, 660.
Edwardsville, in Illinois, XII. 248.
Edwin, or Edwy, king of England, his¬
tory of the reign of, VIII. 703.
Eechaak, Hindu town, VIII. 455.
Eekeren, VIII. 455.
Eels, XII. 223—fishing for, III. 148 
bobbingfor,IV. 722—Dublin eels,VIII.
235—electrical ; see Gymnotus.
Eetcoore, Hindu town, VIII. 455.
Efat, in Abyssinia, II. 58.
Efbe, island, VIII. 455.
Effeminate, VIII. 455.
Effendi, VIII. 455.
Effervescence, VIII. 455.
Effigy, VIII. 455.
Effingham (Lord), V. 402.
Efflorescence, VIII. 456.
Efflorescentia, VIII. 456.
Effluvium, VIII. 456.
Effodentia, in zoology, XIV. 142.
Effrontes, heretics, VIII. 456.
Effusion, VIII. 456.
Egalite, execution of, X. 83.
Egbert, king of England, VIII. 701.
Egelnoth, II. 243.
EgenotiSo, island, VIII. 456.
Eger, in Bohemia, VIII. 456.
Egeria, nymph, VHI. 456.
Ego, VIII. 456 ; XVII. 686, 712—trade
in eggs, II. 341—use of white of eggs
in clarifying, VI. 727—serpent’s egg
of the Druids, VIII. 208—eggs of in¬
sects, IX. 87—preservation of, 729,
731—test of freshness of, XVIII. 98.
Eggenfelden, in Bavaria, VIII. 456.
Egham, village in Surrey, VIII. 457.
Eginhard, historian, VIII. 457.
Egmont (Count), XI. 511, et seq.
 Island, VIII. 457 ; IV. 213.
Egnatia, Italian city, VIII. 457.
Egremont, in Cumberland, VIII. 457.
Egret, bird, XVI. 619.
Egypt, VIII. 458—physical geography
of, 507—publications relating to, 556
—Dolomieu on physical constitution
of, 96—pyramids of, II. 21; III. 410,
431; XVIII. 745—dewin, XVII. 573
—serpents of, XX. 148.
 (ancient), VIII. 458—history of,
459 ; X. 470, et seq.—the ten plagues
in, XV, 570 ; VII. 629—libraries in,
XIII. 286—Alexander’s invasion of,
632—Plato’s visit to, XVIII. 14 —
Caesar’s proceedings in, XIX. 397—
reduced to a Roman province, 399
See Egyptians, Hieroglyphics, Pha¬
raoh.
 (modern), II. 230—history of,
VIII. 476—political geography and
actual state of, 519—monumental and
other antiquities, 530; III. 261 ; XI.
336—singing and dancing girls, II.
533; VIII. 529—manufacture of sal-
ammoniac, II. 661—management of
bees, IV. 535—catacombs, VI. 238—
cotton wool and manufacture, VII.
406—French trade with, X. 191—si¬
milarity of antiquities to those of
Mexico, XIV. 811—invaded by the
Crusaders, XVI. 578—Bonaparte’s ex¬
pedition to, V. 485 ; X. 109, 119, 121;
XV. 725—Sir Ralph Abercrombie’s
expedition, V. 504—British invasion
in 1806, 524—recent declaration of
independence; XVI. 759—plague in,
XVII. 773, et seq.; II. 21—music,
XXI. 325—weights and measures, 852
—map of, VIII. PI. 208.
Egyptians (ancient), whether Negroes,
II. 223—their skulls, 784—veneration
for the dog. III. 277; the cat, XIV.
122; and the ibis, XVI. 621; XVIII.
337—were ignorant of the arch. III.
379—their architecture, 408,415,431,
EGY—ELA
471—army, 580—geographical dis¬
coveries in Asia, 696—astronomy, 722
—religion, IV. log ; VIII. 551; VII.
691, 694 ; XII. 492 ; XV. 676,680 ;
XVIII. 333, 337, 341—Did they bor¬
row their superstitions from India?
V. 1 Si—their beer, 230—bricks, 258
—calendar, VI. 3, et seq.; 658, 660;
Vlir. 554—the Chinese not descended
from, VI. 548 — practised circumci¬
sion, 705—used coffins, VII. 19—their
mode of cooling water, 58—day, 643
—gnomons, 757—dyeing, VIII. 295—
calico-printing, 338—embalming, 670;
XVII. 724—hieroglyphics, XI. 294 ;
II. 540; IV. 774 ; XIII. 253; XVII.
376—funeral rites, X. 257—geometri¬
cal knowledge, 422—respect for the
dead, XII. 329—irrigation, 454—phy¬
siognomy, XIII. 92—-language, ib. ;
XVII. 373, 376 ; its affinity to the
Indian, XIII. 71—locks, 407—free
masonry, XIV. 281—mysteries, ib.;
XV. 658, et seq. ; 676—commerce, 745
—canals, Xtl. 1—necromancy, 72—
Osiris, 654—paintings, 693—paper,
XVII. 7—papyrus, 49—alphabetical
characters, 377—philosophy, 429—ci¬
vilization, XIX. 109—sculpture, VIII.
180; XX. 2—surgery, 820, 822—ba¬
lance, XXI. 835—measures, 846 
weights, 848—how far they resembled
the Chinese, XVII. 163 — colonized
India, 385; XVIII. 339—hypothesis of
Dr Spencer that the Hebrew ritual was
mainly borrowed from the, XX. 533.
Egyptians. See Gypsies.
Egyptian thorn, II. 64.
 wheel, XII. 1.
 herring, XII. 201.
Ehingen and Ehningen, VIII. 56l.
Ehrard’s burning mirrors, V. 735.
Ehrhart on botany, V. 74; 78.
Ehrenberg, his discovery of fossil infu¬
soria, XV. 56—his classification of
polypes, XXI. 1021.
Ehrenbreitstein, VII. 10.
Ehretiea;, in botahy, V. 122.
Ehud, the Benjamite, VIII. 561.
EiA or Ey, VHI. 561.
Eibenstock, Saxon city, VIII. 561.
Eicet,e, heretics, VIII. 561.
EicnsTkDT, in Bavaria, VIII. 561.
Eider Duck, XVI. 637—of Iceland, XII.
148—down of, VIII. 561.
Eidograph, XVII. 1.
Eikon Basilike, authorship of, X. 370 •
VIII. 286 ; XIII. 22 ; XV. 96.
Eilau-Prussian, VIII. 561;
Eilenburg, Saxon city, VIII. 561.
Eimbeck, or Einbeek, a city in Hano¬
ver, VIII. 561 ; VI. 460.
Eimeo, Captain Cook at, VII. 301.
Eindhoven, VIII. 561.
Einsheim, in Baden, VIII. 561.
Eisenach, VIII. 561; XIX. 666.
Eisenburg, German city, VHI. 561.
Eisleben, Saxon city, VIII. 561.
Ejectment, in law, VIII. 562.
Ekaterinograd, VIII. 562.
Ekeings, in ship-building, XX. 284.
Ekron, in Palestine, VIII. 562.
Elacate, fish, XII. 186.
Elamgnese, in botany, V. 127.
Elseocarpese, in botany, V. 100.
El^othesium, VIII. 562.
Elaine, VI. 442—is one of the compo¬
nents of fat, II. 716.
Elaiodic acid, VI. 430.
Elam, VHI. 562 ; XVII. 380.
Eland, African animal, II. 228.
Elanus, bird, XVI. 563.
Elaphebolia, Greek festival, VIII. 562.
Elaphebolium, the ninth Athenian
month, VIII. 562.
Elaphrus, insect; IX. 132;
Elaps, serpent, XX. 147; 134.
El Arish, convention of, VIII. 492.
 , in Morocco, XV. 505.
Elastic, VIII. 562—Bernouilli’s pro-
blem of the elastic curve, XX. 762.
 force of steam, XX. 576—expe¬
riments on, 577, et seq.
56
INDEX
ELA—ELE
Elasticity, VIII. 562—is a property
of all bodies, II. 112 5 XX. 749—mo¬
dulus of, VI. 154—of metals, XIV.
402 ; air, XVIII. 70, 77, 97, 100,108 ;
different kinds of timber, XXI. 300-3
—motion of elastic fluids, 117.
Elatea, city of Phocis, VIII. 562.
Elater, insect, IX. 140.
Elaterides, insects, IX. 139.
Elaterite, in mineralogy, XV. 172.
Elateriuw, in pharmacy, VIII. 562.
Elath, or Eloth, VIII. 562.
Elatineae, in botany, V. 99.
Elba, Italian island, VIII. 562—iron
mines in, XV. 250.
Elbe, river, VIII. 563 ; X. 483; XI.
137; XVIII. 690; XIX. 669—corn-
trade of the, VII. 363.
El-Berba, VIII. 543.
Elberfeld, Prussian city, VIII. 563.
Elbbuf, French city, VIII. 563.
Elbing, Prussian city, VIII. 563 ; IV.
330—trade of, XVIII. 694.
Elbow, VIII. 564 ; XVII. 617.
Elbow-joint, II. 789.
Elburz mountains, XII. 708 ; XVII, 242.
Elc'esattes, heretics, VIII. 564.
Elche, Spanish town, VIII. 564.
Elder-tree, XVII. 789—specific gravity
of its wood, XII. 29.
Elders, Jewish, VIII. 564—of the pri¬
mitive churches, XII. 263. See Pres¬
byterians, XVIII. 523.
El Descabezado, VI. 523.
Eldred on gunnery, XI. 42.
Elea, or Elis, in Greece, VIII. 564, 669.
Eleatic sect of philosophers, VIII. 564 ;
XVII. 431.
Eleazar, XII. 574.
Elect, VIII. 564.
Election, VIII. 564.
Elective, VIII. 564—franchise, X. 629
—attraction, VI. 356.
Elector, VIII. 564.
Electorate, VIII. 564.
Electric shock, VIII. 638—of the silurus,
XII. 203.
 eel, XII. 225,162. SeeGymnotus.
 fishes, XVII. 717.
 telegraph, VIII. 582; XXI. 138.
 apparatus, VIII. 641.
 bells, IV. 547.
  machines, VIII. 641, 576—con¬
struction and use of, 643.
Electricity, VIII. 565; XVII. 568-
history of, VIII. .565 ; I. 544, 617—
624—phenomena and laws of, VIII.
575—on the electricity produced by
heat, pressure, and separation of parts,
595 ; and by change of form, 603—
changes produced by it on organic
and inorganic bodies, 624 —JEpinus
on, II. 174—observations of Biot and
Gay-Lussae in a balloon, 193 — G.
Beccaria on, IV. 507—discoveries of
Mr Canton, VI. 104 — Cavallo on,
252—Mr Cavendish on, 261—electri¬
cal theory of chemical attraction, 351,
357, 459 — Coulomb’s Memoirs on,
426-7 — its supposed agency in the
Deluge, 701—its use in resuscitating
drowned persons, VIII 203—its influ¬
ence in the formation of clouds and
rain, VII. 2 ; XVII. 534, 535—elec¬
trical theory of sensation, XVII. 673.
See Voltaic Electricity.
Electrides, islands, VIII. 663.
Electripeter, XXI. 689.
Electro-chemistry, Sir Humphry Davy’s
discoveries in, VII. 638, et seq. See
Voltaic Electricity.
Electrograph, Ronalds’, VIII. 661.
Electro - magnetism, XXI. 683 ; XIII.
752—discovered by Professor Oersted,
VIII. 637.
Electro-magnets, XIII. 761.
Electrometers, VIII. 654, et seq.; XIV.
743—uses of, I. 622—Volta’s condens¬
ing electrometer, VIII. 651.
Electrophorus, VIII. 643.
Electroscopes, VIII. 654, et seq.—Hally’s
595—Bohnenberg’s,XXI. 673.
Electuary, in pharmacy, VIII. 663
ELE—ELL
Eledona, mollusca, XV. 354.
Eleemosyna Carucarum, VIII. 663.
Eleemosynarjus, VIII. 663.
Elegance, VIII. 663.
Elegit in law, VIII. 663.
Elegy, VIII. 663 — Roman elegiac
poets, XVIII. 154.
Elements, in physics and astronomy.
VIII. 663—in chemistry, VI. 358.
Elemy, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Elenchus, VIII. 663.
Eleotris, fish, XII. 194.
Elephant, XIV. 147—of Africa, II. 228 ;
Asia, III. 682 ; Ceylon, VI. 302 ; In¬
dia, XI. 381; Nepaul, XVI. 95 ; Su¬
matra, XX. 803—its trunk, III. 27—
ivory, 32—teeth, ib.— successive den¬
tition, 33—length of its intestines, 37
—its tusks, XII. 490 — structure,
XVII. 706—elephant-shooting, XX.
302. See Ivory.
 (Knights of theI, VIII. 663.
 Isle, VIII. 663.
Elephantiasis, a disease, VIII. 664.
Elephantine, island, VIII. 664—anti¬
quities in, 532—quarries of, ib.
 books, VIII. 664.
Elephas, in zoology,. XIV. 146.
Elethya, in Egypt, ruins of, VIII. 533—
tombs near, 533-4.
Eleusinia, Greek festival, VIII. 664;
XIV. 281; XV. 658, 667, et seq.
Eleusis, city in Attica, VIII. 666.
Eleutheria, festival, VIII. 666.
Eleutherolacones, VIII. 666.
Elevation, VIII, 666—of the host, ib.
—in architecture, III. 466.
Elevator muscles, VIII. 666.
Elevatory, in surgery, VIII. 667.
Eleve, VIII- 667.
Elf, VIII. 667—elf-arrows, ib.
Elfi Bey, VIII. 497.
Elfield, early printing at, XVIII. 548.
Elfrida, VIII. 705.
Elfsborg, in Sweden, VIII. 667.
Elgandel, Hindu town, ^III. 667.
Elgin, Scotch town, VIII. 667.
 marbles, VIII. 668 ; III. 646;
IV. 129; XVI. 728; XX. 7.
Elginshire. See Morayshire.
Elgiva, VIII. 704.
Eli, Jewish priest, VIII. 669.
Eliac sect of philosophers, XVII. 431.
Elijah the Tishbite, VIII. 669.
Eliot (Sir John), V. 314.
Elis, or Elea, VIII. 669, 564.
Elisa, or Dido, VIII. 16; VI. 183.
Elisha, Jewish prophet, VIII. 670.
Elision, in grammar, VIII. 670.
Elixation, in pharmacy, VIII. 670.
Elixir, in medicine, VIH. 670.
Elizabeth, queen of England, VIII. 670
—reign of, 756—archery in her reign,
III. 399, 401—restrictions on com¬
merce, V. 303—prosecution of Catho¬
lic priests, VI. 51—did not object to
deformity m her counsellors, VII.
674—her friendship for the Earl of
Essex, 743—quarrel with him, 744—
dramatists of the age of, VIII. 3 67—
trial by battle, 253—her committal to
the Tower in Mary’s reign, 754—
death and character, 759—aid to the
Netherlands, XI. 517, 519 — policy
towards Ireland, XII. 364—religious
persecutions in her reign, XIII. 415
—her navy, XVI. 41 ; XX. 221—
poetry of the age of, XVIII. 169—
date of her death, 392,«.—Protestant¬
ism maintained by, XIX. 96—her
policy towards Scotland and Queen
Mary, XIX. 732, et seq.—Elizabethan
style of architecture, III. 428.
 , empress of Russia, XIX. 547.
Elizabethtown, New Jersey, XII. 543.
Elizondo, Spanish town, VIII. 671.
Elk, XIV. 158—fossil Irish, XII. 394—
Norwegian, XVI. 264.
El-kftb, antiquities at, VIII. 533.
Elkington’s mode of draining, VIII. 137.
Ell, a measure, VIII. 671.
I Ellagic acid, VI. 429.
I Ellbogen, in Bohemia, VIII. 671.
ELL—EMB
Ellesmere, in Shropshire, VIII. 671.
  canal, VI. 509—aqueducts of
the, III. 322.
 and Chester canal, XVI. 12.
Ellichpoor, Hindu town, VIII. 671.
Elliot (Sir Gilbert), V. 459—his letters
to Hume on causation, I. 287—on
the alien bill, V. 467.
 (Hugh), V. 451.
 (J. M.), his repeater, VI. 797.
 (George Augustus), Lord Heath-
field, VIII. 671.
Ellipse, VII. 227.
Ellipsis, in grammar, VIII. 672.
Ellipsoids, attraction of, IV. 184.
Ellipsolithes, in conchology, XV. 345.
Elliptic, or elliptical, VIII. 672.
 transcendents, IX. 640.
 turning, VIII. 672.
 spheroids, IV. 175.
Elliptograph, VIII. 673.
Ellis on Dunbar’s poetry, VIII. 271.
 (Mr), his observations on ani¬
malcules and mucor. III. 191—on co¬
chineal, VIII. 307—on sponges, XX.
547—on vegetable physiology, XXI.
578, et seq.
Ellmore, Hindu town, VIII. 673.
Ellore, Hindu town, VIII. 673.
Ellrioh, Prussian city, VIII. 673.
Ellwangen, in Wirtemberg, VIII. 673.
Ellwood (Thomas), his intercourse with
Milton, XV. 102.
Ellys (Dr Anthony), VIII. 673.
Elm, XVII. 780, 783, 789.
Elm-timber, XXI. 294—specific gravity
of, XII. 29.
Elmacinus (George), VIII. 674.
El-Mina, XI. 29.
Elmis, insect, IX. 150.
Elmo (St), fire of, VIII. 623 ; XVII. 542.
Eloch, river, X. 483.
Elocution. See Declamation, Reading.
Elodes, insects, IX. 141.
Elogy, VIII. 674.
Elohi, Eloi, or Elohim, VIII. 674.
Eloined, in law, VIII. 674.
Elongation, in astronomy, VIII. 674.
Elops, fish, XII. 196, 216.
Eloquence of the Druids, VIII. 209. See
Rhetoric, Cicero, &c.
Elora, VIII. 674—pagoda of, VII. 696.
Elphin, XIX. 480.
Elphinstone (Hon.Mountstuart) his ac¬
count of Afghanistan, II. 211—on
the monsoons, XI. 378 ; XVII. 540
—his account of the Indus, XII. 270.
  (William), bishop of Ross,
VIII. 674 ; XXI. 515.
Elpisann, in Asiatic Turkey, VIII. 675.
Elsfleth, German town, VIII. 675.
Elsineur, VIII. 675; IV. 328 ; VII. 725.
Elsnappen, Swedish town, VIII. 675.
Eltham, town in Kent, VIII. 675.
Eltmann, in Bavaria, VIII. 675.
Elvas, town in Portugal, VIII. 675.
Ely, VIII. 67 5—rconventual church and
cathedral of, VI. 34—Isle of, 33.
Elymae, VIII. 562.
Elymas, king of Libya, VI. 188.
Elymus arenarius, VIII. 678.
Elysium, VIII. 675; XV. 671.
Elytra, IX. 74.
Elzevirs, printers, VIII. 675.
Emanation, VIII. 675.
Emancipation,in Roman law,VIII, 675.
Emanuel, king of Portugal, XVI. 655.
Emarginula, mollusca, XV. 349, 365.
Emathia, VIII. 676.
Ematin, VI. 465.
Embalming, VIII. 676 ; XVJI. 724—by
the Guanches, VI. 73.
Embankments, VIII. 676.
 of rivers, XVII. 525; XIX. 284
—their pernicious effects on naviga¬
tion, VIII. 193.
Embarcadero, VIII. 680.
Embargo, in commerce, VIII. 680.
Ember Weeks, VIII. 680.
Emberiza, bird, XVI. 580,
Emblem, VIII. 680.
Embolismus, VIII. 681.
Embossing, VIII. 681.
EMB—ENC
Embrasure, in architecture, VIII. 681
Embroidery, VIII. 681.
Embrun, in France, VIII. 681.
Embryo, in physiology, VIII. 681. See
Foetus, Generation.
 , in botany, III. 74, 99 ; V. 50,51.
Embryonatae, in botany, V. 53.
Embryonate plants, V. 92.
Emden, in Hanover, VIII. 681.
Emerald, VIII. 681; XV. 156—distin¬
guished from beryl, IV. 600—Egyptian,
VIII. 518—specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Emersion, VIII. 682 ; XV. 155.
Emerson (William), VIII. 682 ; I. 597.
 (Dr), on the mortality at Phila¬
delphia, XV. 522.
Emery, VIII. 682; XV. 155.
Emew, bird, XVI. 616.
Emigration, VIII. 683 — to Buenos
Ayres, V. 646—Canada, VI. 67—Chili,
538—Colombia, VII. 91, 111—New
South Wales, XXI. 721—New Zealand,
975—the United States, 460 ; XVIII.
408—its insufficiency to keep down
population, 412. See Colonies.
Eminence, VIII. 691.
Emir, VIH. 691 ; III. 332.
Emissary, in politics, VIII. 691.
Emly, XXI. 314.
Emma, wife of Canute, VIII. 707.
Emmanuel, VIII. 691.
 , king of Portugal. XVI. 655.
Emmerich, Prussian city, VIII. 69L
Emmenagogues, VIII. 692.
Emmett (Robert), V. 545; VIII. 237;
XII. 387.
Emmius (Ubbo), VIII. 691.
Emollients, in medicine, VIII. 692.
Emolument, VIII. 692.
Emotion, VIII. 692. See Ethical Phi¬
losophy.
Emouy, or Amoy, island, VIII. 692.
Empalement, punishment, VIII. 692.
Empedocles, VIII. 692—taught the true
theory of lunar light, I. 452.
Emperor, VIII. 692.
 of Japan, fish, XII. 179.
Empetreie, in botany, V. 129.
Emphasis, in rhetoric, VIH. 692.
Emphysema, in surgery, VIII. 692.
Empidue, insects, IX. 269.
Empire, VIII. 692—German, 693.
Empiric, VIII. 693.
Empis, insects, IX, 270.
Empress, VIII. 693.
Emprosthotonos, VIII. 693.
Empusa, insect, IX. 191.
Empyreum, VIII. 693.
Empyreuma, in chemistry, VIII. 693.
Ems, VIII. 693—baths of, XV. 737.
 , river, X. 483 ; XI. 137.
Emu, XXL 716.
Emulation, VIII. 693—is the nurse of
genius, XVII. 412.
Emulgent or renel arteries, VIII. 693.
Emunctory, in anatomy, VIII. 693.
Emys, reptile, XIX. 128.
Enallage, in grammar, VIII. 693.
Enamel, VIII. 693—of the teeth, II.
746; HI. 32.
Enamelling, VIII. 693—of porcelain,
XVIII. 438.
EnC/Enia, Jewish festivals, VIII. 694.
Encaustic and Encaustum, VIII. 694.
 painting, VIII. 694.
Enceinte, in fortification, VIII. 698.
Enceladus, insect, IX. 119.
Encephali, in medicine, VIH. 698.
Encephalitis, XVII. 479.
Enchasing, or Chasing, VIII. 698.
Enchelis, animalcules, III. 186-7.
Enchelyopus, fish, XII. 226.
Encke’s comet, IV. 38.
Enclitica, in grammar, VIII. 698.
Encoubert, in zoology, XIV.’143.
Encratites, heretics, VIII. 698.
Enerinites, zoophytes, XIX. 1011.
Encyclopedia, VIII. 698 ; I. preface—
the first probably written by an Ara¬
bian, II. 415—Chinese, VI. 568.
 Britannica, VII. 268 ; XV. 80 ;
XX. 401 —contributions to, by Dr
Doig, VIII. 93; Leslie, XIII. 248;
INDEX
57
ENC—ENG
Playfair, XVIII. 46 ; Dr Young, XX.
971.
Encyclopaedical tree, D’Alembert’s, I. 1.
Encyclopedic (French), VIII. 14—con¬
tributions of D’Alembert to, II. 398.
Encyclopaedists, French, X. 47.
Ende, island, IX. 624.
Endemic diseases, VIII. 698.
Endian, Persian town, VIII. 698.
Endive, culture of, XI. 674—structure
of its stem, HI. 82.
Endless, VIII. 699.
Endocarp, in botany, V. 47.
Endogenous plants, V. 33, 132, 134,136.
Endomychus, insect, IX. 185.
Endopleura, in botany, V. 50.
ENDOB,town in Galilee, VIII. 699—witch
of, III. 307 ; XVI. 72.
Endorhizae, in botany, V. 51.
Endohsed, in heraldry, VIII. 699.
Endorsement. See Indorsement.
Endosperm, in botany, V. 50.
Endowment, in law, VIII. 699
Endeacht’s Land, VIII. 699.
Endkie, VIII. 699.
Endymion, VIII. 699.
Enemy, in law, VIII. 699.
Enekgdmens, VIII. 699.
Energy, VIII. 699.
Enervating, VIII. 699.
Enesei, Siberian river, VIII. 699.
Eneseisk, Siberian town, VIII. 699.
Enfans Perdus, VIII. 699.
Enfield (William), LL.D., VIII. 699.
 , in Middlesex, VIII. 700.
Enfilade, in war, VIII. 700.
Enfi'ne, Egyptian city, VIII. 700.
Enfranchisement, VIII. 700.
Engano, island, VIII. 700.
Engastrimythi, VIII. 700.
Engen, in Germany, VIII. 700.
Engendering, VIII. 700.
Enghien, city in Flanders, VIII. 700.
——:— (Duke d’), VII. 201—execution
of, X. 129 ; XV. 730.
Engine, in mechanics, VIII. 700.
Engineers, VIII. 700—French corps of,
III. 600— Austrian, 604—British, 621
—academical rank of civil engineer at
Durham,'XXI. 508.
Engitides, insects, IX. 148.
England, VIII. 701—history of, ib.—
statistics, 759—agriculture, II. 252-3
—expeditions against Algiers, 506—
American colonies, 637, 647, 648—
archery, III. 398, et seq.—pointed ar¬
chitecture, 422, 454—later architec¬
ture, 428—recent pointed architec¬
ture, 430—Saxon and Anglo-Norman
Gothic architecture, 454 —weights
and measures, 544—army, 616—ar¬
tillery, 632—painters, 650—baking,
IV. 295—laws respecting baking, 300—
bell-ringing, 547—botanists, V. 82, 91
—canals, 288—union of its crown with
that of Scotland, 302—history after
that union, ib.—union with Scotland,
370—attempt to dissolve that*inion,
373—castles in former times, VI. 233
—influence of the wars of the Boses on
chivalry,615—the Mint, VII. 32—com¬
merce, 160—navigation-laws, 122,160
—the mercantile system, 163—losses
from that system, 164—trading'eom-
panies, 181, et seq —Lord High Con¬
stable of, 266—corn laws and trade,
333; IV. 301—influence of the cot¬
tage-system, VII. 392—effects of the
cotton-manufacture, 396—history of
that manufacture, 398, 407—condi¬
tion of, during the Crusades, 488—
law of divorce, VIII. 72—dockyards,
78—the drama, 153, 156, 166—duel¬
ling, 253—title of duke, 257—govern¬
ment and laws, IX. 1—fisheries, 602
—glass-making, X. 565—hunting,
XI. 740, 741—lunatic asylums, XIV.
587—coal, XV. 244—coins, 399, 401,
404, 407, 409—nary, XVI. 38-news¬
papers, 168—history of art, 724—
banking, XVII. 22—old sports, 112 -
heights of mountains, 506, 557—lakes,
523—poetry, XVIII. 168—police, 249
ENG—ENT
-poor-laws, 364, 368 ; VII. 335, 336,
n.—increase of population, XVIII.
411—expectation of life, 424—porce¬
lain-manufacture, 4 34—introduction
of printing, 550—prisons, 583—penal
law, 737—the Reformation, XIX. 95;
VII. 447—romance, XIX. 332, 384-
royal family, 513—sculpture, XX. 9
—lighthouses, 29—shipping, 214, et
seq. — slavery, 383—suicide, 798 —
surgery, 829,et seg.—land-taxes, XXI.
102—timber, 291—Roman roads, 821
—universities, 491—sheep and wool,
922—woollen manufactures,926—map
of, Vol. VIII. Plates CCXIX-1 and
CCXIX-2. See the Chronological
Table, VI. 669, et seq. ; also Britain.
Englefield (Sir H.), his portable baro¬
meter, IV. 400—his filter, IX. 581 —
on heat, XI. 183—on the spectrum,
XVI. 419.
English language, IX. 38 ; XIII. 86
—its superiority over the French as
an instrument of thought, I. 229—
want of good translations of ancient
classics, HI. 263—bibles, IV. 618 —
specimen of dictionary of, VIII. 10.
  Channel, canal from it to the
Bristol Channel, XVI. 13.
   type, XXI. 435.
Englishmen, their tendency to dread a
French invasion, V. 473 — distin¬
guished as sportsmen, XX. 302.
Engrafting, in gardening, XI. 635.
Engrailed, in heraldry, IX. 43.
Engraulis, fish, XII. 216.
Engraving, IX. 44—on gems, 55—
aquatinta, III. 315—of dies, VII. 54
—on glass, X. 581—mezzotinto, XV. 2;
XIX. 522—multiplication of engraved
copperplates by voltaic electricity,
XXL 683—wood-engraving, 916.
Engrossing of corn, statutes against,
VII. 334.
Enguera, Spanish town, IX. 56.
Enguiche, in heraldry, IX. 56.
Enharmonic. See Music.
Enicocerus, insect, IX. 150.
Enicurus, bird, XVI. 572.
Enigma, II. 173.
Enkiiuyzen, in Holland, IX. 56.
Enlistment of soldiers, Mr Windham’s
act respecting, V. 520.
Enneacrunus, IV. 124.
Enneagon, in geometry, IX, 56,
Ennis, Irish town, IX. 57 ; VI. 727.
Enniskillen, IX. 57, 518.
Ennius, Roman poet, IX. 56—works of,
XVII. 411 ; XVIII. 153.
Ennui, VIII. 55.
Enoplosus, fish, XII. 168.
Enore, Hindu village, IX. 57..
Enos, city in Turkey, IX. 57.
Enotaevsk, Russian town, IX. 57.
Enowtawkaia, in Russia, IX. 57.
Ens, IX. 57, 58.
Enseeled, in falconry, IX. 58.
Ensenada de Barragon, V.'640.
Ensham, in Oxfordshire, IX. 58.
Ensiform cartilage, II. 764.
Ensign, IX. 58—naval, ib.
Ensisheim, meteoric stone of, XIV. 707.
Ent (Sir George), IX. 58.
Entablature, III. 466—Doric, 438, 450,
451—Ionic, 439,449,451—Corinthian,
441, 448, 451—Caryatic, 441.
Entails, Scotch, XXI. 70 ; II. 264—un¬
favourable to agriculture, 342.
Entasis, in architecture, III. 466.
Enterion, worm, XI. 222.
Enthusiasm, IX. 58.
Enthymeme, IX. 58; XIII. 541—Aris¬
totle on, III. 515.
Entlibuch, in Switzerland, IX. 58.
Entomology, IX. 59—not so cruel a
pursuit as is commonly imagined, III.
164 — use of flies in angling, 133,
et-seq.—tenacity of life among insects,
163—their insensibility to pain, 164
—Fabricius on, IX. 473—comparative
physiology of insects, XVII. 720—how
some walk on water, XX. 753—me¬
thods of destroying them, XXI. 602.
ENT—EPI
Entomostraca, crustacea, VII. 503 —
their nervous system, 498—organs of
reproduction, 499.
Entozoa, zoophytes, XXL 991-2; XVII.
128—structure of, XVII. 722.
Entrecasteaux (D’), his discoveries in
Australasia, IV. 206, 210, 211, 212—
his Channel, VII. 732.
Entre Duero e Minho, IX. 302.
Entrepas, IX. 302.
Entre Rios, in La Plata, XVIIL 7.
Entrophic organs, II. 813; III. 32.
Entry, in law, IX. 302.
Enumeration, IX. 302.
Envelope, in fortification, IX. 302.
Environne, in heraldry, IX. 302.
Envoy, IX. 302.
Envy, IX. 302—analyzed, XII. 304—de¬
formed persons subject to, VII. 676.
Enzelli, Persian town, IX. 302.
Eolipile, IV. 715.
Eonians, fanatics, IX. 302.
Eooa, or Eaoowe, island, IX. 302.
Eoria, Athenian feast, IX. 302.
Eostre, Saxon goddess, IX. 302.
Epacridese, in botany, V. 118.
Epacts, in chronology, IX. 302 ; VI.
11—tables of, 12, 13.
Epaminondas, Theban general, IX. 302;
XXI. 195-9—his army, III. 588—
anecdote of, IX. 577.
Eparer, IX. 303.
Epaulement, IX. 303.'
Epaulettes, IX. 303.
EpSe (Abbe de 1’), on the education of
the deaf and dumb, VII. 648, 651.
Epeira, genus of arachnides, III. 361.
Epenthesis, in grammar, IX. 303.
Epeolus, insect, IX. 234.
Eperies, Hungarian city, IX. 303.
Epha, or Ephah, a measure, IX. 304.
Epheb^eum, IX. 304.
Ephebi, IX. 304.
Ephemera, IX. 304.
 , insects, IX. 211—their use in
angling, III. 135.
Ephemerides, IX. 304 ; XIII. 560.
Ephesus, IX. 304—church of, XVIIL 524.
EphetjE, Athenian judges, IX. 305.
Ephialtes, insect, IX. 224.
Ephippus, fish, XH. 179.
Ephod, in Jewish antiquity, IX. 305. .
Ephori, Doric magistrates, IX. 305.,
Ephorus, Greek historian, IX. 305.
Ephraim, IX. 306.
Ephrem Syrus, IX. 306.
Ephydor, Athenian officer, IX. 306.
Ephydra, insect, IX. 290.
Epibataj, IX. 306.
Epibaterion, IX. 306.
Epic poetry, IX. 306 ; XVIII. 148.
Epicarides, crustacea, VII. 502.
Epicarp, in botany, V. 47.
Epicedion, in poetry, IX. 307.
Epicedium, in poetry, IX. 307.
Epicharis, insect, IX. 234.
Epicharmus, Greek poet, IX. 307.
Epichirotonia, IX. 307.
Epiccene, in grammar, IX. 307.
Epicorollse Corisantherse, in botany, V.
115—Synantherse, 116.
Epictetus, philosopher, IX. 307.
Epicurean philosophy, IX. 307 ; XVII.
431; I. 302—Bacon’s admiration of
Epicurean physics, 71 — Gassendi’s
partiality for, 70.
Epicurus, IX. 309—character of, I. 303
—respect paid to his system by his
followers, 305—his definition of mo¬
tion, 450—explanation of light, 505—
materialism. III. 294—Canonica, VI.
94 — dialectic, VII. 756 — atheism,
XVIIL 665.
Epicycles, IX. 309—system of, IV. 15.
Epicycloid, in geometry, IX. 309.
Epidamnus, in Illyria, IX. 309.
Epidaurus, Greek city, IX. 310.
Epidemia, Greek festivals, IX. 310.
Epidemic diseases, IX. 310.
Epidermis of skin, IX. 310; II. 750 ;
XVII. 606—of mucous membrane, 75,2
—of plants,III. 65.
Epidicasia, IX. 310.
EPI—EQU
Epidii, VI. 2.
Epidot.e, deities, IX. 310.
Epidote, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Epiglottis in man, II. 805 ; XVII. 682
—in brutes. III. 28.
Epigoni, IX. 310.
Epigram, in poetry, IX. 311.
Epigraphe, IX. 311.
Epigynous stamens and petals, V. 41.
Epilepsy in the horse, XXI. 632.
Epilogue, IX. 311.
Epimachus, bird, XVI. 591.
Epimenides the Cretan, IX. 311.
Epimetheus, IX. 311.
Epinal, in France, IX. 311.
Epipetake, in botany, V. 114.
Epiphanius (St), IX. 311—on the Ebion-
ites, VIII. 394.
Epiphany, Christian festival, IX. 311 —
in Abyssinia, II. 62.
Epirus, in Greece, IX. 312.
Episcopacy, IX. 313—favoured by James
I., V. 304—attempt of Charles I. to
set it up in Scotland, 315—the king
the head of the Church, XVIIL 523
—convocations, ib.—Presbyterian ar¬
guments against, ib.—rise of, 525.
Episcopal, IX. 317.
Episcopalians, IX. 317.
Episcopius (Simon), IX. 317.
Episinus, genus of arachnides. III, 60.
Episode, in poetry, IX. 317.
Episperm, in botany, V. 50.
Epistamineae, in botany, V. 128.
Epistemonarch, IX. 317.
Epistilbite, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Epistle, IX. 317.
Epistropheus, II. 760.
Epistyle, IX. 317; III. 466.
Epitaph, IX. 317.
Epithalamium, IX. 318,
Epithet, IX. 318.
Epitome, in history, IX. 318.
Epitragus, insect, IX. 166.
Epitritus, in prosody, IX. 318
Epitropus, judge, IX. 318. •
Epocha, IX. 318 ; VI; 652—difference
between sera and epoch, II. 176.
Epode, in lyric poetry, IX. 318.
Epopieia, in poetry, IX. 318.
Epping, town in Essex, IX. 318.
Eppingen, German city, IX. 318,
Eproboscideae, insects, IX. 292.
Epsom, town in Surrey, IX. 318.
Epsom Salt, in mineralogy, XV. 139.
 Salts Cave, in Indiana, XII. 266.
Epulares, IX. 318.
Epulo, IX. 318.
Epulum, ancientifeast, IX. 318.
Equable, IX. 318.
Equal and Equality, IX. 318.
Equanimity, IX. 318.
Equation of time. III. 776—table of, for
every day of the year, VII. 780.
 clock, VI. 782.
Equations, IX. 319—homogeneous, L
529—absolute, II. 44—in algebra, 440,
ct seq.—quadratic, 448—cubic, 454—
reciprocal, 460—resolution of those
whose roots are rational, 462—reso¬
lution of, by approximation, 464—
loci of, 482—differential, XIV.'322.
Equator, or ^Equator, IX. 351—astro¬
nomical, III. 755—geographical, X.
404—magnetic, XIII. 743.
Equatorial instruments, IV. 108.
Equeuy or Ecury, IX. 351.
Eques Auratus, IX. 351.
Eques, fish, XII. 176.
Equestria, among the Romans, IX. 351.
Equestrian, IX. 351.
Equiangular, IX. 352.
Equidistant, IX. 352.
Equilateral, IX. 352.
Equilibrium, IX. 352; XIV. 356—of
human body, II. 796—of.fluids, XII.
10—of moving bodies, XIV. 378—of
arches, &c., 395 ; V. 266—of forces,
XIV. 455—construction of the arch
of, XXL 640. See Arch, Balance,
Statics.
Equimultiples, IX. 352.
Equinoctial, IX. 352—points, ib.
58
INDEX,
EQU—ERI
Equinox, or Equinox, IX. 352—cere¬
monies at, in China, VI. 559.
Equinoxes (precession of the), III. 7C7;
XVIII. 507—discovered by Hippar¬
chus, III. 731—Laplace’s discoveries
relative to the, III. 752.
Equinoxial line, X. 404.
Equipollence, in logic, IX. 352.
Eqcieia, Roman festival, IX. 352.
E,juisetace;c, in botany, V. 37, 138—or¬
gans of reproduction in, V. 54,
Equitable Life Assurance Society, III.
201, 202, 209—its valuable tables,
XV. 527, 555.
Equites, in ancient Rome, IX. 352.
Equity, IX. 353.
Equivalent, IX. 353.
Equivocal, in logic, IX. 353,
Equivocation, IX. 353.
Equula, fish, XII. 189.
Equuleus or Ecculeus, IX. 353.
Equus, XIV. 151. See Horse.
Era, or HJra, II. 17G ; VI. 653—of the
foundation of Rome, 654—Christian,
655—of the creation, 656; VII. 455
— of Constantinople, VI. 658 — of
Alexandria, ib.—of Antioch, 659—of
Nabonassar, 659—of the Seleucidae,
659— of Macedonia, ib.—of Alexander,
660— of Tyre, ib.—Caesarean of An¬
tioch, ib.—Julian, ib.—of Spain, ib.—
of Actium, ib.—of Diocletian, ib.—of
martyrs, ib.—of the Armenians, 661
—of the Hegira, 661—of the Yezde-
gird, or Gelalaean, 662—Jewish eras,
657—Chinese, 663—Hindu, 664.
Eramnoo, island, IX. 353.
Ebanarcha, Greek officer, IX. 353,
Ekasistbatus, IX. 353—his anatom leal
knowledge, II, 688 ; XVII. 752—his
skill in surgery, XX. 822.
Ebasmus (Desiderius), IX. 353—effect
of his writings in accelerating the Re¬
formation,!. 15—his humorous advice
to Ammon how to push his fortune,
II. 659—his controversy with Luther
on free-will, XIII. 599—at Oxford,
XXL 494.
Ebastians, religious sect, IX. 358.
Eraterium, in botany, V. 49.
Eeato, a muse, IX. 358 ; XV. 603.
Ebatosthenes, IX. 358—on astronomy,
III. 7 30—his catalogue of Egyptian
kings, VIII. 460—on the Egyptian
calendar, 554—on the earth’s size, IX.
546; XXI. 52—on geography, X. 392,
394—on geometry, 426—his know¬
ledge of the Nile, XVI. 225.
Ebatostratus, IX. 358.
Ebbil, Persian town, IX. 358.
Ebding, in Bavaria, IX. 358.
Erdman on magnetism, XIII. 724.
Ebebus, IX. 358—insect, 248.
Erechtheus, IV. 142—temple of, 123.
Erect posture of man, XVII. 699.
Erectile tissue, II. 725 ; XVII. 640.
Ebeklee, IX. 358,
Ebemieu, French city, IX. 359.
Eremonville, French village, IX. 359.
Eresus, genus of arachnites, III. 363.
Ereteson, in zoology, XIV. 137.
Ebetbia, IX. 359 ; IV. 150.
Eretriac sept of philosophers, XVII. 431.
Erewash Canal, XVI. 13.
Ebfubt, Prussian city, IX. 359—Electo¬
ral Academy at, II. 73.
Ebgastulum, IX. 359.
Eric, kings of Sweden, XXI. 13, JO.
Ericae, XI. 686.
Ericese, in botany, V. 118,
Ericht (Loch), XVII. 289.
Erichthonius, king of Attica, IV. 142.
Ericinese, in botany, V. 118.
Ericson (Gustavus), XXI. 13.
Ericson's weighing-machine, XXL 839.
Ebidanus, IX. 359.
Erie, lake, IX. 359 ; VI. 58, 64 ; XVII.
522; XXI. 455.
 Canal, XVI. 24; XXI. 470.
Erigena (Joannes Scotus), IX. 359.
Erigone, IX. 360.
Erinaceus, in zoology, XIV. 102.
Eriogonete, in botany, V. 126.
ERI—ESK
Eriometer, VI. 640; XIV. 750; XVI. 450-
Erioptera, insects, IX. 260.
Eriphia, insects, IX. 284.
Eriphyle, IX. 360.
Eris, goddess, IX. 361.
Erisichthon, IX. 361,
Eristalis, insect, IX. 275.
Eristic sect of philosophers, XVII. 431.
Ebith, tonm in Kent, IX. 360.
Erivan, Persian province, IX. 360.
Erlangen, Bavarian city, IX. 361.
Erlau, Hungarian city, IX. 361.
Erman (M.), on the electrical relations
of flame, VIII. 605.
Ermin, in heraldry, IX. 361 ; XI. 245
—order of knights, IX. 361.
Ermines, in heraldry, IX. 361.
Erminois, in heraldry, IX. 361.
Ermont, antiquities at, VIII. 535.
Ebnatia, IX. 361.
Erne, river, VI. 255 ; VIII. Ill; IX.
516—Lough, IX. 516; XII. 390-
river and lough navigation, XVI. 22.
Ernesti (John Augustus), IX. 361.
Ernulph, III. 624.
Erodion, genus of arachnides, III. 358.
Erodius, insect, IX. 163.
Erodona, in conchology, XV. 342.
Eros, in mythology, IX. 363; VII. 549.
Erosion, IX. 363.
Erotia, Thespian festival, IX. 363.
Erotic, IX. 363.
Erotylus, insect, IX. 185.
Ebouad, Hindu town, IX. 363.
Erpenius, or D’Erpe (Thomas), IX. 363.
Erpetology, See Reptilia.
Errard on fortification, IX. 769.
Erratic, IX. 364—blocks, XV. 220.
Erromango, island, IX. 364.
Erroor, town in India, IX. 364.
Error, in philosophy, IX. 364.
Erskine (Tho.), Loyd Erskine, IX. 364.
  (Ebenezer), XX. 62.
Eruthra, temple of Hercules at, VII. 694.
Erxleben, merits of his classification of
animals, III. 170.
Erycina, insect, IX. 242.
 , in conchology, XV. 342.
Erymanthus, IX. 365.
Erysipelas, a disease, IX. 365 ; III. 248
—surgical treatment of, XX. 838—
in sheep, XXI. 630.
Erythr*, in fiEtolia, IX. 366.
Erytiir/ecji mare, IX. 366— periplus
of the, II. 220.
Erythrseus, arachnides, III, 368.
Erythrin, VIII. 309.
Erythrinus, fish, XII. 216.
Erythroxylese, in botany, V. 102.
Eryx, IX. 366—serpent, XX. 138.
Erzerum, in Armenia, IX. 366.
Esarhaddon,IX. 366.
Escalade, or Scalade, IX. 366.
Eseallanieae, in botany, V. 113.
Escape, in architecture, HI. 466.
Escapements of clocks, VI. 768, et seq.
—of watches, 789.
Escarpe, in fortification, IX. 772.
Escheat, in law, IX. 366.
Eschenbach, in Bavaria, IX. 366.
Escher (Mr), lost in a glacier, II. 560.
Eschershausen, IX. 366.
Eschevin, or Echevin, IX. 366.
Eschrakites, IX. 366.
Eschscholtz’s arrangement of the cilio-
grades, XXI. 1019.
Eschscholtzia, in botany, V. 67.
Eschwege, Hessian city, IX. 366.
Escobar, Spanish town, IX. 366.
Escuage, IX, 366.
Esculent, IX. 366.
Escurial, IX, 367—library of the, XIII.
307—Arabic MSS. in the, VI. 214.
Escutcheon, or Scutcheon, in heraldry,
IX. 367 ; XI. 244—funeral, 260.
Esdraelon, plain of, XVI, 743.
Esdras, Jewish priest, IX. 367.
Esher, town in Surrey, IX. 367—grove
at Esher Place, X. 325,
Esk, rivers, IX. 307—in Cumberland,
VII. 536—in Edinburghshire, VIII.
429—Forfarshire, IX. 745 ; XIX. 747.
Eski-Hissar, Turkish town, IX. 367.
ESL—ETH
Eslon (Monsieur d’), on animal magnet¬
ism, XIV. 12, et seq.
Esmunus, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Esna, III. 702.
Esne, or Esneh,in Egypt, IX. 367—an¬
tiquities at, VIII. 534—zodiac at, 555.
Esocyda;, in ichthyology, XII. 199.
Esoteric, IX. 466.
Esox, fish, XII. 199—angling for Esox
Lucius, III. 144.
Espalion, in France, IX. 368.
Espartero (General), XX. 512-14.
Espinel (Vicente), his novel, XIX. 352.
Espiritu Santo, river, XVIII. 458.
Esplanade, in fortification, IX. 368.
Espousals, in law, IX. 368.
Esquiline hill, XIX. 424, 426.
Esquimaux, IX. 368 ; II. 619, 634; X.
759—their language, II. 633—of La¬
brador, XIII. 5.
Esquire, IX. 368 ; VI. 178, 603.
Essay, IX. 368.
Essaying. See Assaying.
Essedarii, gladiators, IX. 368.
Essen, Prussian city, IX. 368,
Essence, in metaphysics, IX. 368—of
bodies, XIV. 648.
Essenes, IX. 368 ; X. 636.
Essential, IX. 368—oils, ib.
Essequibo, IX. 368 ; VII. 704.
Essex, IX. 369—fisheries of, 602.
 (Robert, Earl of), VII. 743; II.
14 ; VIII. 758—his failure in Ireland,
XII. 365—his friendship for Bacon,
XXI. 606—Bacon’s ingratitude, 607.
 (Earl of), in the reign of Charles
the First, V. 323, et seq.
Essling, battle of, X. 152.
Esslingen, in Wirtemberg, IX. 371.
Essonite, in mineralogy, XV. 159.
Estachar, Persian town, IX. 371.
Estain (Admiral d’), V. 405.
Estaires, French city, IX. 371.
Estambolic, Arabian town, IX. 371.
Estate, in law, IX. 371.
Este, Italian city, IX. 371.
Estella, Spanish city, IX. 371.
Estepona, Spanish town, IX. 371.
Esther, Book of, IX. 371.
Esthonia, a Russian province, IX. 372
—language of, XIII. 89.
Estimation of motions and forces, in
dynamics, VIII. 363.
Estivation, in botany, V. 43.
Estoilee, in heraldry, IX. 372.
Estoppel, in law, IX. 372.
Estrees (Admiral d’), V. 347.
Estremadura, IX. 372.
Eszek, Hungarian city, IX. 372.
Etserion, in botany, V. 48.
Etampes, in France, IX. 372.
Etaweh, Hindu town, IX. 371.
Etching, IX. 372, 44, 45—on stone,
XIII. 386—voltaic, XXI. 683.
Etelent, Arabian town, IX. 374.
Etelis, fish, XII. 168.
Eteocles, IX. 3<74:; VII. 461.
Eteocretes, VII. 463.
Eternity, IX. 374 ; XIV. 667.
Etesian winds, IX. 375 ; VIII. 515.
Etfu. See Edfou.
Ethal, VI, 441.
Ethelbald, king of England, VIII. 702.
Ethelbert, king of England, VIII. 70‘->
Ethelfleda, VIII. 703.
Ethelgiva, VIII. 704.
Ethelred, king of England, VIII. 702 
reign of, 705—his fleet, XX. 214.
Ethelwold, VIII. 705.
Ethelwolf, king of England, VIII. 702.
Ether, IX. 375; XV. 574—caoutchouc
dissolved by, V. 107—sulphuric, VI.
438—acid ethers, 439—how to inflame
it by electricity, VIII. 626—specific
gravity of, XII. 29—poisonous quali¬
ty of, XIV. 507,
Etheria, in conchology, XV. 343.
Etheridge (Sir George), IX. 375.
Etherification, VI. 439.
Etherow, river, VII. 735.
Ethical philosophy, Bacon’s disquisi¬
tions on, I. 35—Hobbes’s principles,
42—Cudworth’s system, 44—little
ETH—ETI
attention paid to, at the era of the
Restoration, 1.46—Barrow on,ib.—Dr
Law’s system, 171-2—Division of the
subject, 296-7—Paley’s views, 298—
retrospect of ancient ethics, 299—
ethical philosophers of Greece, 300—
Plato, 301—Aristotle, 302 —Epicu¬
reans and Stoics, ib.—Epicurus and
Zeno, 303—system of Stoics, 304-
estimate of the practical philosophy
of Greece, 305—literature of Alex¬
andria, 306—scholastic ethics, 307,
313—Jewish and Mahommedan wri¬
ters, 308—Augustin’s system, 309—
doctrines of Aquinas, Scotus, and
Bradwardine, ib.—William of Ock¬
ham and John Gerson, 310 — Aqui¬
nas, ib.—the Mystics, 311—tempta¬
tions and errors of the scholastic age,
312—nominalists and realists, ib.—
extensive influence of Aquinas’s sys¬
tem, 312-13—Spanish writers on scho¬
lastic ethics, 314,422—Grotius’s views
of Carneades’s principles and argu¬
ments, 316—Hobbes’s principles ; see
Hobbes—difference between the acts
resulting from reason and passion,
331—self-love, 342, 366—difference
between it and benevolent affections,
344—definition of moral sentiments,
346—conscience, ib., 402, 407-14—
avarice, 366—principle of hoarding, ib.
—origin of benevolence, 367—pity one
of its sources, ib.—origin of sense of jus¬
tice, ib.—crime and duty, ib.—power
of association in regard to remorse, 368
—moral faculty uniformly spoken of
as one, ib.—moral approbation, ib.—
right and wrong, duty and virtue, ib.
—comparative merits of various reli¬
gions, 374 —ethics should contain
principles recognised by every reli¬
gion, ib. —honour, cowardice, and
duelling, 375—social affections and
malevolent passions, 380—humility,
381—love of praise, 382—utility and
virtue, ib„ 383, 401-2, 409—direct ob¬
ject of ethics, 384—intimately con¬
nected with law, ib.—Stewart’s ethical
theory, 393—principal object of con¬
science to govern our voluntary exer¬
tions, ib.—manner as an index of cha¬
racter and disposition, 395—Dr T.
Brown on sympathy and conscience,
399—defect of the terms association
and suggestion, 401—the laws of God
founded on principle of promoting
happiness, 402—question why evil'ex¬
ists, ib.—virtue must be loved for its
own sake, 403 —primary pleasures,
pains, and appetites, 405—their num¬
ber not determined, ib.—two sects,
the partisans of.the selfish principle,
and the advocates of benevolence, :b.
—secondary desires or pleasures, 406
—anger, 407—magnanimity, ib.—ope¬
ration of conscience in reference to
religious systems, 411—ethical philo¬
sophy of Scotland, ib.—of Germany;
Kant, 412. See Ethics.
Ethics, IX. 375—Aristotle on, III. 518
—practical, XV. 481—of the Hindus,
XVII. 428—of the Egyptians, 430.
See Ethical Philosophy, Moral Philo¬
sophy, Duty, Conscience.
Ethiopia, IX. 375; II. 49—Ethiopian
race of man, 709 ; Xiv! 200 ; XVII.
554, 697—calendar, VI. 660—ancient
paintings, XVI. 693.
Ethiopian nations, IX. 875.
Ethiopians, their origin, XVII. 374—
intercourse with the Egyptians, 375.
Ethiopic alphabet, II. 549 ; XVII. 375
—Bibles, IV. 616—language,* ’ XIII.
83 ; XVII. 374, 375.
Ethmoid bone, II. 771; III. 21.
Ethnarcha, or Ethnarch, IX. 382.
Ethnophrones, heretics, IX. 382.
Etienne (Charles), his anatomical re¬
searches, II. 694.
 (St), in France, IX. 382.
Etiolation of vegetables, XIII. 340.
Etiquette, IX^ 382.
INDEX
59
ETN—EUL
Etna. See iEtna.
Etoile, French town, IX. 3S2.
Etolia, in ancient Greece, IX. 383.
Eton, or Eaton, IX. 383—college at, V.
635—fagging at, VIII. 447,
Etburia, IX. 383—the arched dome in¬
vented in, III. 379—Etruscan li¬
braries, XIII. 289.
Etbuscans, IX. 383; XIX. 376—their
alphabet, II. PI. 19—art, III. 261;
XVI. 695—architecture, III. 417—
language, XIII. 87; XVII. 408—
coins, XIV. 472—wars with the Ro¬
mans, XIX. 368, et seq.—sculpture,
XX. 3.
Etsch, in Austria, IX. 389.
Ettlingen, German city, IX. 389.
Ettmuller (Michel), IX. 389.
Ettrick, river, XX. 85.
Etymander, river, II. 212.
Etymology, IX. 390.
Eubages, Celtic priests, IX. 390.
EgboiA, island, IX. 390 ; II. 10—invad¬
ed by Philip of Macedon, XIII. 628.
Eubulides, his dialectic, VII. 756.
Eucalyptus globulus, IV. 209.
Eucharist, IX. 390; VII. 179; XX. 813.
Ecchites, ancient heretics, IX. 390.
Euchlora, insect, IX. 159.
Euchlorine, VII. 640.
Euchologium, IX. 390.
Euchroite, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Euclase, XV. 156—sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
Euclid of Alexandria, IX. 391; III.
730 ; X. 425—his Elements of Geo¬
metry, I. 435, 584; XIV. 314; XX.
359—on angles, III. 129—his personal
character, 289—his Data, VII. 632 ;
XX. 359—on proportional numbers,
XII. 258—on optics, XVI. 348 ; I. 504
—his Porisms, XVIII. 441; XX. 358.
  OF Meoara, IX. 391; XVIII.
13-—his dialectic, VII. 756—his ad¬
miration of Socrates, XX. 445.
Eucnemis, insect, IX. 140.
Euccelium, molluscum, XV. 371.
Euctemon, Greek astronomer, III. 728.
Eudemus on astronomy, III. 729 on
the mathematics, X. 425.
Eudialyte, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Eudiometer, IX. 392; VI. 262; XVII.
531—Dr lire’s detonating, VIII. 660.
Eudocia, empress, II. 538 ; VII. 284.
Eudosia, Athenian lady, IX. 392,
Eudoxians, heretics, IX. 393.
Eudoxus of Cnidus, geometer, X. 424;
III. 503, n.,8—-his astronomy, 728.
 of Cyzicus, voyages of, X. 390.
Eugene (Prince), IX. 393; V. 143—his
military exploits, IV. 220 ; XXI. 413
at the battle of Blenheim, V. 369.
Eugenius, Roman usurper, VII. 280.
Euglossa, insect, IX. 235.
Eugubian Tables, IX. 397.
Eulabes, birds, XVI. 573.
Euler (Leonard), IX. 398—his supre¬
macy as a mathematical analyst, I.
578—the real founder of the theory of
continued fractions, 589—his applica¬
tions of it, ib.—his extension of the
properties of the angular sections, 596
—his invention of a method to de¬
termine particular integrals, 599—
his explication of the principles of
partial differences, 600—on dynamics,
603, 608—on the principle of magnet-
ism, 626—his attempt to destroy the
coloured margin of a focal image,
calculations and discoveries
°t> regarding the planetary motions,
665-6—his character, II. 101 on
achromatic glasses, ib., 103—employ¬
ments of his last days, 185—on the
arithmetic of sines, 485, 493—on an¬
nuities, III. 199—on the problem of
the three bodies, 750; IV. 57—his
mathematical labours, III. 75i_on
hydrostatics, XII. 10—on the polarity
of the needle, XIII. 68»—on mecha¬
nics, XIV. 354, 355 — on wind-mill
sails, 433—on mortality, XV. 546 
on music, 605—on the resistance of
fluids, XIX. 178—on the strength of
EUL—EUT
columns, XX. 760, 771—his modifi¬
cation of Barker’s mill, XXI. 806.
Euler (Albert), qn overshot wheels, XII.
85—his water-mill, 94.
Eulogy, IX. 400.
Eulopa, insects, IX. 204.
Eumachus, VI. 188.
Eumarides, IX. 400.
Eumenes, IX. 400; XIII. 640, et seq. ;
XVII. 228, 229.
 , Athenian orator, IX. 401,
 , insect, IX. 231,
Eumenia, insects, IX. 24?.
Eumenides, the Furies, IX. 401.
Eumenidia, Greek festivals, IX. 401.
Eumerus, insect, IX. 273.
Eumolpides, priests of Ceres, IX. 401.
Eumolpus, insect, IX. 183.
Eumorphus, insect, IX. 185.
Eunapius of Sardis, sophist, IX. 401.
Eunice, worm, XI. 219.
Ecnomians, heretics, IX. 401.
Eunuchs, IX. 401; VI. 236—said by
Lord Bacon to be envious, and good
spies, VII. 676.
Euonymese, in botany, V. 105.
Eupatrid,®, IX. 401.
Eupelix, insect, IX. 204.
Eupen, Prussian city, IX. 402.
Euphonia, bird, XVI. 571.
Euphony, in grammar, IX. 402,
Euphorbia, in botany, V. 66.
Euphorbiacese, in botany, V. 129.
Euphorbium, VI. 491—specific gravity
of, XII. 29.
Euphorbus, a Trojan, IX. 402.
Euphorion, IX. 402.
Euphranor, Greek painter, XVI. 704.
Euphrates, river, IX. 402; IV. 279,280.
Euphrosine, worm, XI. 219.
Euplocampus, insect, IX. 252.
Euplocomus, bird, XVI. 610.
Eupoda, insects, IX. 180.
Eupolis, Greek poet, IX. 402.
Eupompus, Greek painter, XVI. 701.
Eure, in France, IX. 402.
 and Loire, in France, IX. 403.
Eurhinus, insect, IX. 172.
Euric, Gothic king in Spain, XX. 493.
Eurina, insect, IX. 288.
Eurinorhynchus, bird, XVI. 624.
Euhipedes, IX. 403—tragedies of, VIII.
148—danced on the stage, 152—inti¬
macy of Socrates with, XX. 439.
Euroclydon, wind, IX. 404.
Europa, in fabulous history, IX. 404.
Europe, IX. 404—balance of power in,
IV. 308—inland navigation of, XVI.
4 birds, 644—heights of mountains,
XVII. 505, 557—volcanoes, 512—
lakes, 523—course of rivers, XIX.
252—serpents, XX. 134—map of, IX.
Plate 243.
Euryale, in mythology, IX. 421.
Eurybia, insect, IX. 242.
Eurychora, insects, IX. 163.
Eurydice, IX. 421.
Eurylamus, bird, XVI. 577..
Eurymedon, river, IX. 421.
Eurypyga, bird, XVI. 618.
Eurystheus, king of Argos, IX. 421.
Eusebians, sect of Arians, IX. 421.
Eusebius, bishop of Cajsarea, IX. 421—
his character, XIX. 635.
 — the Asiatic, his blindness and
erudition, IV. 700.
Eustace (Reverend Mr),his character of
Bossuet, V. 26.
Eustachian tube, II. 801.
Eustachius (Bartholomeo), his anatomi¬
cal discoveries, II. 696, 698 —his
Plates, XII. 727.
Eustathians, IX. 422.
Eustathius, IX. 422; XIII. 293—his
commentary on Homer, XI. 547.
Eustatia (St), island, IX. 422.
Eustatius (St), island, V. 417.
Eustrophus, insect, IX. 166,
Eustyle, IX. 423; III. 466.
Euterpe, a Muse, IX. 423 ; XV. 603.
Euthydemus, XX. 445.
Euthymia, IX. 423.
Eutin, city «f Oldenburg, IX. 423.
EUT—EXC
Eutropius (Flavius), a Latin historian,
IX. 423.
Eutychians, heretics, IX. 423.
Eutychius of Alexandria, IX. 424.
Euxenides, Greek painter, XVI. 701.
Euxinus Pontus, or Black Sea, IX.
424, 408 ; IV. 658 ; XVII. 520.
Evaesthetus, insect, IX. 137.
Evagrius Scholasticus, IX. 424.
Evander, king of Arcadia, IX. 424.
EvANqELisis, IX. 424.
Evania, insect, IX. 218.
Evaniales, insects, IX. 218.
Evans (Mr) his journey into the interior
of New Holland, IV. 207.
 (General), XX. 512, 513.
   (Oliver), inventor of the high
pressure steam-engine, XX. 642.
 (Rice), prophecies of, XX. 813.
Evantes, IX. 424.
Evaporation, IX. 424; XI. 190 ; XIV.
729—of fluids from plants. III. 57—
Leslie’s atmometer for measuring, IV.
181—cold produced by, VII. 58, 62,
504 ; XIV. 730—principle of its fri-
gorific power, VII. 60—crystalliza¬
tion by, 506—electricity developed by,
VIII. 604—spontaneous, XVII. 532—
in air-pump, XVIII. 87—from the
sea, XX. 549—by steam, XX. 606—
statistical tables of evaporation in
steam-boilers, XX. 685.
Evates, Druids, IX. 433
Evchester, VIII. 290.
Eve, mother of mankind, IX. 433.
Evection of moon’s orbit, III. 789.
Evelyn (John), IX. 433—on agricul¬
ture, II. 258—on erratic spiders, III.
362—on the English stage, VIII. 171,
172—on shipping, XX. 224-his Sylva,
XXL 289.
 (Sir G. S.), his barometrical mea¬
surements, IV, 399, 400.
Eventuality, faculty of, XVII. 465.
Evergetes, or Euergetes, IX. 434.
Evergreens, VII. 672; XI. 678; XVII.
780, 785.
Evesham, IX. 434—battle of, VIII. 725.
Evidence, IX. 434—Dr Beddoes on de-
monstrafiye, IV. 514—the Economists
on, VIII. 401—law of, IX. 35 ; XII.
464—sources of, XIV. 636, et seq.
Evil, IX. 434—origin of, I. 402; III.
297;XIV.700; XVIII. 667; XXI.209.
Evolution, in algebra, II. 433.
Evora, Portuguese city, IX. 434.
Evremond (C. de St Denis), IX. 434,
Evremoniana, II. 676.
Evreux, in France, IX. 435.
Ewanpilly, Hindu town, IX. 435.
Ewell, town in Surrey, IX. 435.
Ewes, milking of, injurious, II. 334—
milk of, VI. 499. See Sheep.
Ex, or Exe, river. See Exe.
Exaggeration, IX. 435,
Exaltation, IX. 435—of the Cross, ib.
Examination, IX. 435—academical exa¬
minations at Oxford, XXI. 498; Cam¬
bridge, 504 ; London, 507; Dublin,
524, 525.
Exarch, IX. 435, 436.
Exauctoratio, IX. 436.
Excalceation, IX. 436.
Excellency, title, IX. 436.
Excentric, in geometry, IX. 436.
Excentricity, in astronomy, IX. 436,
Excess, IX. 436.
Exchange, in political economy, JX.
436. See Bills of Exchange.
 , or burse, IX. 461; V. 745—of
London, XIII. 501—London stock-
exchange, 502.
Exchequer, IX. 461 —origin of the
word, II. 7—Scotch Court of, vjjl.
419 ; XI^. 757.
 Islands, IV, 213.
Excise, IX. 461 — Sir R. Walpole’s
scheme of, V. 378—excise-laws inju¬
rious to distillation, VIII. 45.
Exclusion, bill of, IX. 461.
Excommunication, IX. 461; XI. 493.
Excrement, IX. 462—voiding of, not
instinctive, XII. 302. See Excretion.
EXC—EXP
Excrescence, in surgery, IX. 462.
Excretion, XVII. 583, 654.
Excretory ducts, IX. 462 ; XVII. 648.
Excubiie, Roman guards, IX. 462.
Excusati, IX. 462.
Exe, river, IX. 435 ; VII. 745-its na¬
vigation, XVI. 18.
Exeat, in church discipline, IX. 462.
Execration, IX. 462.
Executions for crimes in England and
Wales, VIII. 803—pleasure from wit¬
nessing, 54.
Executive power, IX. 462.
Executor and Executry, IX. 462,
Exedrie, IX. 462.
Exegesis, IX. 463.
Exegetes, IX. 463.
Exegetica, in algebra, IX. 463.
Exembryonatae, in botany, V. 53.
Exembryonate plants, V. 92.
Exemplar, IX. 463.
Exercise, IX. 463—conducive to health,
XIV. 509—aeora or gestation, II. 174
—racing, IX. 502—riding, XI. 608—
exercises in Sparta, XX. 530—in mi¬
litary affairs, IX. 463.
Exergum, among antiquaries, IX. 463.
Exeter, IX. 463—cathedral of, III,
456 ; VII. 747—canal, XVI. 13.
Exfoliation, IX. 463.
Exhalants of the human body, II. 727 —
of plants, HI. 56.
Exhalation, IX. 463.
Exhaustions,in mathematics, IX. 463.
Exheredation, in law, IX. 465.
Exhibition, in law, IX. 465.
Exhibitioners at Oxford, XXL 490.
Exhortation, in rhetoric, IX. 465.
Exigenters, IX, 465,
Exile, IX. 465.
Existence, IX. 465.
Exit, IX. 465.
Exiteria, oblations, IX. 465.
Exmoor sheep, II. 329.
 forest, XX. 475.
Exmouth, in Devonshire, IX. 465.
(Lord), his expedition against
Algiers, II. 510.
Exocarpese, in botany, V. 128.
Exocetus, fish, XII. 201.
Exodiary, in Roman tragedy, IX. 405.
Exodium, IX 465.
Exodus, book of, IX. 465.
Exogense, in botany, V. 94.
Exogenous plants, V. 33.
Exorcism, IX. 465 ; XX. 812—cure of
diseases by, XIV. 9.
Exorcists, IX. 465.
Exordium, or preamble, in oratory, IX,
465; XIX. 213.
Exorhizse, in botany, V. 51.
Exostosis, XXI. 615.
Exoteric and Esoteric, IX. 466.
Exotic, IX. 466.
Expansibility of air, XVIII. 78, 97.
Expansion, IX. 466—produced by elec¬
tricity, VIII. 624; by heat, XL 187,
Expectation, IX.466. See Probability.
  of life, IX. 466; XV. 560—in
different countries, XVIII. 420 in
England, 424.
Expenditure of the United Kingdom,
VIII. 794.
Experience, IX. 466—as a ground of
human judgment, XIII. 439, 440—
evidence from, XIV. 639—its testi¬
mony slighted by Plato, XVIII. 29.
Experimental philosophy, IX. 466 ;
XVII. 439, 572.
Experimentum crucis, IX. 466.
Expiation, IX. 466—feast of, ib.
Expletives, Greek, XVII. 401.
Explosion, IX. 466—engines moved by
explosion of gas, &c., XIV. 437.
Exponent, IX. 468.
Exponential quantities, IX. 468; II.
470—calculus, IX. 468 ; V. 787-
curve, IX, 468—equation, ib.
Exportation, taxes on, XXI. 115.
Exports from the United Kingdom,
\ III. 780, 782—decline of real and
increase of official value, 785.
Exposing, IX. 468—of children, ib.
60
INDEX
EXP—FAB
Exposition, IX. 468.
Expositor, or Expository, IX. 468*
Ex-post-facto, in law, IX. 468.
Expostulation, IX. 468.
Expressed Oils, IX. 468.
Expression, in rhetoric* IX. 468 {paint¬
ing, ib.; engraving, 51; music, XIV.
542 { sculpture, XX. 10—of counte¬
nance, XIV. 195.
Expurgatory Indexes, IV. 628.
Exsiccation, in chemistry, IX. 468.
Expiration, in physiology, IX. 468.
Extast, IX. 468.
Extension, IX. 468—perception of,
XIV. 609.
Extensor muscles, IX. 468.
Extent, in law, IX. 468.
External, IX. 468.
Extispex, in antiquity, IX. 469.
Extortion, IX. 469.
Extraction, IX. 469—of the square
and cube roots, III. 566.
Extracts, vegetable, XII. 628.
Extraordinarii, IX. 469.
Extraordinary, IX. 469—couriers, ib.
Extravagantes, IX. 469.
Extravasation, IX. 469.
Extreme, IX. 469.
Extrinsic, in metaphysics, IX. 469.
Exuviae of animals, IX. 469.
Ey, IX. 469.
Eye described, XIII. 3415 XVI. Su¬
its structure first analysed by Kepler,
I. 509—muscles of the, II. 794, 800—
anatomy of the, 798 ; XVII. 667-
expression of the, XIV. 196—its state
in making microscopical observations,
XV. 53-—its functions, XVII. 667—
alleged reading by somnambulists
without the aid of, XX. 477—its dis¬
eases in the domestic animals, XXI.
634—effects of galvanism on the, 681
—eyes of albinos, II. 383—of the
lower animals, III. 21—of ants, 240
—of the arachnides, 348—those of
spiders phosphorescent, 358, n.—of
the Crustacea, VII. 498—of insects,
IX. 79—of fishes, XII. 157—of qua¬
drupeds, XVII. 703. See Eyeball,
Eyelids, Optics, Sight.
 , a town in Suffolk, IX. 469.
 river navigation, XVI. 21.
Eyeball, its form in different animals,
III. 22.
Eyk (Van), XVI. 710.
Eylais, arachnides, III. 369.
Eylau, battle of, X. 145; XIX. 559.
Eyelids, II. 800—their motion not in¬
stinctive, XII. 302—third eyelid, or
nictitating membrane, III. 25.
Eyemouth, in Berwickshire, IX. 469.
Eye-teeth, II. 780.
Eynapoor, Hindu town, IX. 469.
Eyrie, in falconry, IX. 469.
Eytelwein on the motion and velocity of
water, XII. 6, 65.
Ezekiel, IX. 470—Book of, 469—style
of, XVIII. 147.
Ezetova, Russian river, IX. 470.
Ezra, XVII. 364—Book of, IX. 470—
the Scriptures collected by, IV. 612
—his supposed additions to them, 613
—his canon, VI. 90.
F
F, letter of the alphabet, IX. 470.
Faber (Tanaquillus), IX. 528.
Fabian (Robert), IX. 470.
Fabii, Roman family, IX. 470.
Fabius Pictor, IX. 470.
 Maximus Verrucosus, IX. 471
•—his war with Hannibal, VI. 198.
Fable, IX. 471 — origin of, II. 197;
XV. 675.
Fabliaux, French, XVIII. 164.
Fabretti on inscriptions, XII. 292.
Fabriano (Gentile da), IX. 471.
 , Italian city, IX. 471.
Fabricius (George), poet, IX. 471.
 — (Jerome), ab Aquapendente, IX.
FAB—FAL
472—his anatomical discoveries, II.
697—on surgery, XX. 829.
Fabricius (John), on the sun’s spots,
III. 778.
 (John Albert), IX. 472.
 — (John Christian), IX. 473—
merits of his entomological system,
III. 170—publication of his notes of
Linnaeus’s lectures, V. 89—on the
Crustacea, VII. 500.
 (Otho), on entomology, IX. 97,
et seq.—on ornithology, XVI. 549,
 (Vincent), IX. 473.
Fabrot (Charles-Annibal), IX. 474.
Fabry, on aeronautics, II. 179.
Fabulous, IX. 475.
Faqade, in architecture, III. 467.
Facata, seaport in Japan, IX. 475.
Face, IX. 475—human, XVII. 614,701
—constituent parts of, II. 757—bones
of, 776, 784—muscles of, ■794—bones
of, in mammalia. III. 5; in birds, 12
—its expression, XIV. 195.
Facial angle, 11.785 ; III. 6; XVII. 701.
Facies Hippocrattca, IX. 475.
Fackerdin, XXI. 64.
Faction, IX. 475.
Factitious, IX. 475.
Factor, IX. 475.
Factorage, IX. 475—calculation of,
III. 556.
Factory, IX. 475.
 regulation laws, XXL 938.
Facul®, in astronomy, IX. 475.
Faculty, IX. 475 — in universities,
XXI. 485, n. 5.
Fsenus, insect, IX. 218.
Faenza, Italian city, IX. 475.
Faernus (Gabriel), IX. 475—his edition
of Terence, XXL 185.
Fagging at Eton, VIII. 447.
Faggot, IX. 476.
Fagnani (Count de), on fluxions, IX.
640 ; XIV. 322.!
Fahlberg’s experiments on the gymno-
tus electricus, VIII. 65 3.
Fahlun, in Sweden, mines of, XV. 251;
XXI. 31.
Fahrenheit, his araeometer. III. 371—
his thermometer, IV. 393 ; XIV.
724 ; XXI. 237, 239—his hydrometer,
XII. 22.
Faid, Arabian town, IX. 476.
Faifo, in Cochin-China, IX. 476.
Failsworth, in Lancashire, IX. 476.
Faint Action, IX. 476.
Fair wind, IX. 477.
Fair Isle, IX. 477.
Fairs, IX. 476—in Ava, IV. 244;
France, X. 193; Hindustan, XL 386;
Hungary, 726 ; Hurdwar, 760 ; Leip-
sic, X. 487; Stourbridge, or Stur-
bich, VI. 34.
Fairfax (Edward), poet, IX. 477.
 (Thomas, Lord), IX. 478 ; V.
325, et seq.
Fairford, IX. 48p.
Fairy, IX. 480-—circle, ib.
Fairy-tales, XIX. 352.
Faith, in theology, IX. 480—justifica¬
tion by, XXL 230.
Faithorn (William), IX. 481.
Fakenham, in Norfolk, IX. 481.
Fakirs, Indian monks, IX. 481.
Falaba, African town, XII. 759.
Falaise, in France, IX. 481.
Falasiia, IX. 481.
Falcade, IX. 481.
Falcated, IX. 481.
Falcinellus, bird, XVI. 624.
Falcon, XVI. 565.
Falconer (William), IX. 481—poetry
of, XVIII. 173.
Falconidae, birds, XVI. 560.
Falconry, IX. 482 ; XX. 300.
Falcunculus, bird, XVI. 568.
Falkirk, IX. 482 ; XX. 733—battles
of, V. 382 ; XIX. 709 ; XXL 723—
carse of, VI. 178 ; XIX. 746.
Falkland, town in Fife, IX. 483.
Falkland Islands, XVII. 119 ; V. 143
—dispute between Britain and Spain
about them, V. 391.
FAL—FAR
Falkland (Lucius Cary, Lord), VI. 208
—death of, V. 325.
Fall, IX. 483.
 of man, IX. 483; XXL 215—
its consequences, 216.
Fallenia, insect, IX. 267.
Falling-sickness. See Epilepsy.
Falling-stars, VIII. 623 ; IX. 587.
Fallopian tubes, II. 826; XVII. 689.
Fallopius (Gabriel), IX. 483—notices
of his anatomical discoveries, II. 696,
698 ; XVII. 727.
Fallow-deer, XIV. 160—shooting of,
XX. 302.
Fallowing, in agriculture, II. 277.
Falmouth, in Cornwall, IX. 484.
 , in Jamaica, XII. 501.
False, IX. 484.
False-quarter, XXI. 620.
Falsi Crimen, IX. 484.
Falsify, IX. 484.
Falster, island, IX. 484; IV. 328.
Falu, in Sweden, IX. 484.
Falx of the dura mater, II. 811.
Fama clamosa, IX. 484.
Fame, in mythology, IX. 484.
 , love of, X. 584; XV. 468.
Famia, or Famieh, IX. 485.
Familiars of the Inquisition, or Cross¬
bearers, IX. 485.
Family, IX. 485.
 Islands, IX. 485.
Famine, XL 731—at Antioch about
the year 331, III. 252—in Egypt, in
the year 1066, VIII. 479.
Fan, IX. 485.
Fanatics, IX. 485,
Fancy, poetic, XVIII. 142. See Taste,
Apparitions.
Fan-fish, XII. 184.
Fangs of serpents, III. 40.
Fanions, IX. 485.
Fanners, IX. 485; XVIII. 136.
Fano, IX. 485 ; XVII. 4.
Fanshawe (Sir Richard), IX. 485.
Fantasia, in music, IX. 486
Fantees, III. 667.
Fanum, IX. 486.
Faraday (Michael), his electrical disco¬
veries, VIII. 574—his new law of
electrical conduction, 581—on the
pyro-electricity of oxalate of lime,
598—on the electricity of the sun’s
rays, 608 — on electro-chemical de-
* composition, 630—his apparatus and
experiments for that end, 631—on
Mr Barry’s experiments, 632—on elec¬
tro-magnetism, 638; XXI. 684—his
improvements on the electrophorus,
VIII. 645—his instructions for using
electrometers, 654—on chemical fil¬
tration, IX. 582—on magnetic metals,
XIII. 700—his voltaic trough, XXI.
667—his voltameter, 674—on conduc¬
tors of electricity, 675—his electro¬
chemical discoveries, 678—on mag¬
neto-electricity, 690.
Faraha, Arabian town, IX. 486.
Farandman, IX. 486.
Farce, IX. 486.
Farcy a disease of horses, XXI. 631.
Fardapoor, Hindu town, IX. 486.
Fardlebound, a disease, XXI. 625.
Fareham, in Hampshire, IX. 486.
Farewell (Cape), IX. 487.
Farey’s elliptograph, VIII. 673.
Farina, XVII. 625.
Fario, angling for, HI. 138.
Farleu, IX. 487.
Farm, IX. 487—subdivisions of farms,
II. 273—size of, 346—size of English,
VIII. 766—large and small farms com¬
pared, VII. 387.
Farm-Cottages, II. 273.
Farm-houses, II. 270.
Farmer, IX. 487—British, II. 342. See
Agriculture, Corn-laws.
 (Hugh), IX. 487.
 (Richard), IX. 487.
Farming of taxes, XXL 100.
Farnabie (Thomas), IX. 488.
Farnese (Cardinal), VI. 132.
 Palace, III. 426, 453, 459
FAR—FEC
Farnham, town in Surrey, IX. 488-
Royal Military College at, II. 79.
Farnovians, heretics, IX. 488.
Farnworth, IX. 488.
Faro, in Portugal, IX. 488.
Faroe Islands, IX. 489—ballads of the,
IV. 320.
Farquiiar (George), comic writer, IX
489 ; VIII. 172.
Farquharson (Rev. James), on aurora
borealis, IV. 197, 198, 200.
Farrier, IX. 490.
Farriery, or veterinary science, IX.
490 ; XXL 612 ; XI, 606.
Farringdon, in Berkshire, IX. 491.
Fars, in Persia, IX. 491.
Fartach, Arabian sea-port, IX. 491.
Farthing, IX. 491.
Fasces, IX. 492.
Fascets, in glass-making, IX. 492.
Fascia, IX. 492—in anatomy, II. 740-
in architecture, IX. 492 ; III. 467.
Fasciculus, in botany, V. 41.
Fascination, IX. 492.
Fascines, IX. 492.
Faseiolaria, in conchology, XV. 347.
Fashion, its effect on taste, IV. 493.
Fast, IX. 492 ; II. 45 ; III. 167 ; VIII.
22—Mahommedan fasts, XIV. 38 
death from fasting, 498.
Fastermans, IX. 493.
Fasti, IX. 493—Dies Fasti, ib.
Fastolf (Sir John), IX. 493.
Fat, IX. 493 ; II. 716; XL 732; XVII,
583, 597, 650—tissue containing, II,
715—alimentary qualities of, VIII.
20—specific gravity of, XII. 29—in
insects, IX. 84. See Fatting.
 , or vat, IX. 494.
 oils, VI. 442. See Oil.
Fata Morgana, IX. 494 ; XIV. 750;
XV 698—in the Sahara, XIX. 612.
Fate, IX. 494—stoical, XVIII. 514.
Fates (the), XVII. 68.
Fatesch, in Russia, IX. 495.
Fathemites, IX. 495,
Father, IX. 495.
Father lasher, fish, XII. 174.
Fathom, IX. 495.
Fatio de Duillier, IX. 633.
Fatsisio, island, IX. 495.
Fatting of cattle, II. 326—of .sheep, 336.
Fatuarii, IX. 495.
Faugher, battle of, XII. 357.
Faulls (R. and A.). See Foulis.
Faults in rocks, XV. 187, 198, 276.
Fauna, IX. 495.
Faunalia, IX. 495.
Fauns, IX. 495.
Faussigny, in Savoy, IX. 495.
Faust (John), X. 278; XVIII. 543.
Favignana, island, IX. 495.
Faviss.®, IX. 495.
Favonius, IX. 495.
Favorinus, orator, IX. 495.
Fawkes (Francis), poet, IX. 495.
 (Guy), V. 306.
Fawn, IX. 496.
 colour, dyeing of, VIII. 332.
Fay (M. du), on dew, VII. 749, 750.
Fayal, one of the Azores, IV. 263.
Fayetteville, in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
Fayrer’s clock, VI. 778.
Fe (Santa), Spanish city, IX. 496.
Fe, Fo, or Fohi. See Fohi.
Fealty, in law, IX. 496.
Fear, IX, 49 6—its tendency to make
nations take excessive precautions
against enemies, VII. 122—Are in¬
fants susceptible of it? XII. 303.
Feast, or Festival, IX. 496—excellent
effects of ancient feasts, III. 257—
their utility, ib.—dancing at, VII. 614.
 , or banquet, IX. 497.
Feathers of birds, IX. 498 ; XVI. 555
—plucking of, XIII. 351.
Featherings, in architecture, III. 467.
Febripuge, IX. 498.
February, IX. 498—gardening opera¬
tions in, XI. 688.
Feburier’s hive, III. 283.
Fecamp, French city, IX. 498.
Fechingse, Chinese city, IX. 498,
FEC—FER
Females, Roman priests, IX. 498.
. Fecundation of flowers, XXI. 582.
Fecundity of vegetables, XXI. 585.
Feddan, VIII. 523, n. 2.
Fee, IX. 498—fee-farm, 499,
Feediug-apparatus of boilers, XX. 680.
Feejee Islands, IX. 499; XVIII. 322.
Feeling, Dr T. Brown’s application of
the term, I. 397. See Emotion.
 (sense ofl, XIV. 608 5 XVII. 579,
661—in bees, IV. 523—weak in in-
cects, III. 164.
Feet-bearer, IX. 499.
Fehrabad, Persian town, IX. 499.
Feinaigle(G.de),his mnemonics,XV. 390.
Felahi, VIII. 115.
Felaniche, Spanish town, IX. 499.
Felapton, in logic, IX. 499.
Felegtaza, in Hungary, IX. 499.
Felibien (Andrg),IX. 499.
Felicitas, IX. 499.
Felicddi, island, IX. 499 ; XIII. 370.
Felis, XIV. 120—bones of the foot in
this genus, III. 9—organs of voice, 28.
Felix V. (Pope), II. 582.
Fell (Bishop), his scandalous treatment
of Locke, XIII. 412.
Fellahs of Egypt, VIII. 522.
Fellatahs, XI. 711.
Fellenberg (Monsieur), XXI. 50
Felo de se, IX. 499.
Felon, in law, IX. 495.
Felony, IX. 499, 29 ; XVIII. 738.
Feloops, XX. 94.
Felspar, XV. 152—sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
Felt, IX. 500.
Felting, IX. 500 ; VIII. 299 ; X. 265 ;
XXI. 925, 930, 933.
Felton on Dryden, VIII. 223.
 , assassin, V. 313.
Felucca, IX. 500 ; IV. 722.
Feludje, IX. 500.
Feludsje, island, IX. 500.
Female, IX. 500. See Woman.
Femern, island, IX. 500.
Feminine, in grammar, IX. 500.
Femme covert, IX. 500—sole, ib.
Femur, c.r thigh-bone, II. 789—its upper
joint, 791—in the mammalia, III. 9—
in birds, 13—in reptiles, 15.
Fen, IX. 500; XV. 572—fens of Lin¬
colnshire, XIII. 351, 352.
Fence, IX. 500—in gardening, X. 331—
fences of farms, II. 273.
Fence-month, IX. 500.
Fencing, IX. 500.
Fenelon (F. de‘S. de L.), IX. 504 ;
XVIII. 792—his works, I. 82, 83—
his contest with Bossuet, 335 ; V. 25
—liis character I. 83, 335—why dis¬
trusted by Louis XIV., 335—his de¬
fence of Madame Guyon, 336—his ba¬
nishment from the French court, and
condemnation by the Pope, ib.—his
comparison of Demosthenes and Ci¬
cero, VII. 710.
Fennee, in zoology, XIV. 117.
Fennel, XI. 675.
Fenny Stratford, XX. 747. *
Fenton (Sir Geoffrey), IX. 508.
— (Elijah), poet, IX. 508.
Fenugreek, yellow dye-stuff, VIII. 321.
Feod. See Feudal Law.
Feodor, XIX. 541.
 Ivanovitch, XIX. 537.
Feodosia, in Russia, IX. 509.
Feoffment, in law, IX. 509.
Fer de Fourchette, IX. 509.
Ferae, in zoology, XIV. 98.
Ferah, Persian town, IX. 509.
Feralia, Roman festival, IX. 509.
Ferdinand and Isabella, XX. 498.
 III., of Leon, XX. 496.
 VI., of Spain, XX. 504.
— VIE, of Spain, XX. 505.
Ferdousi, Persian poet, XVII. 252, 382.
Fere (La), French town, IX. 509.
Ferentarii, IX. 509.
Feretrius, IX. 509.
Feretrum, IX. 509.
Ferg (Francis Paul), IX. 509.
Fergus, river, VI. 724—its navigation,
XVI. 22.
INDEX.
FER—FET
Ferguson (Adam), IX. 510—on the his¬
tory of language, 1.176—on Dr Reid’s
works, 219.
 (James), IX. 514—his clock with
few wheels, VI. 777—his lunar and
tide clock, 778.
 (Robert), poet, IX. 514.
 (!!•)> “ the plotter,” VII. 599.
  — (Robert), of Raith, his observa¬
tions on subterranean temperature,
VI. 745.
Fergusonite, a mineral, XV. 162—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 29.
Feria, IX. 515.
Ferine, IX. 515—Latin®, ib.
Feriana, African city, IX. 515.
Ferioniens, insects, IX. 126.
Fermanagh, IX. 515—effects of the cot¬
tage-system in, VII. 390.
Fermat (Pierre de), IX. 518, 632—his
method of drawing tangents to curves,
I. 445—on refraction, 512—his edi¬
tion of Diophantus, II. 421—his dis¬
putes with Descartes, VI. 181—not
the discoverer of the differential cal¬
culus, XIII. 208—his mathematical
discoveries, XIV. 317—on probability,
XVIII. 591.
Ferment, IX. 519.
Fermentation, IX. 519—of bread, IV.
299—in brewing, V. 247, 255—theory
of, 247—vinous, VIII. 52—in distille¬
ries, 47—influence of electricity on,
*,633.
• , in wine-making, XXI. 894—cir¬
cumstances and phenomena of, 895—
management of, 896.
Fermo, in Italy, IX. 519.
Fermoselle, in Spain, IX. 519.
Ferns, V. 37, 138—organs of reproduc¬
tion in, 54.
Fernand (John), blind author, IV.
700.
Fernando. See Juan Fernandez.
 de Noronha, IX.519.
 Po, island, IX. 519.
   san d’Apure, IX. 519.
Fernel, measurement of arc of meridian
by, I. 502 ; IX. 547 ; XIV. 317.
Fernelius (John), IX. 519.
Ferney, French town, IX. 520.
Feroe Islands, IX. 520—Feroese bal¬
lads, IV. 320.
Ferokabad, IX. 520.
Feronia, insect, IX. 124.
Ferozegur, IX. 520,
Ferozepoor, IX. 520.
Ferrah, IX. 520,
Ferrajo-Porto, IX. 520.
Ferrara, in Italy, IX. 520.
Ferrari (Lewis), discovery in algebra by,
II. 423.
Ferrars (George), IX. 520.
Ferreanah, IX. 520.
Ferrein’s theory of voice, XVII. 683.
Ferrerius (J.), V. 159, n. 3.
Ferret, XIV. 109.
Ferretto, IX. 520.
Ferro, a Canary island, IX.' 520.
■ Islands. See Feroe.
Ferrol, Spanish city, IX. 521.
Ferreus (Scipio), his improvements in
algebra, II. 422.
Ferriar (Dr) on apparitions, III. 302, «f
seq.—on hysteria, XVII. 487—his Il¬
lustrations of Sterne, XX. 721.
Ferroeyanodides, VI. 456.
Ferruginous, IX. 521.
Ferte-la-Milon, IX. 521,
Ferte sous Jouarre, IX. 521.
Ferula, IX. 521.
Fescennta, IX. 521.
Fescen-nine verses, IX. 521.
Fess, in heraldry, XI. 249.
Festi dies, IX. 521.
Festino, in logic, IX. 521.
Festival. See Feast.
Festoon, IX. 521.
Festus (Pompeius Sextus), IX, 521.
Fetiche, VII. 215.
Fetid gum-resins, VI. 490,
Fetlock, IX. 522.
I Fettstein, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
FEU—FIG
Feuchtwang, IX. 522.
Feud, IX. 522.
Feudal law, IX. 522—Sir Thomas
Craig on the, VII. 441.
 *- system, agriculture under the,
II. 252, 847—allegiance, 519—armies,
III. 595 —effect of the Crusades on the,
VII. 491—its influence on poetry,
XVIII. 156.
Feuillants, X. 66.
Fever, prevalence of, in marshy districts,
IV. 138—treatment of, in the do¬
mestic animals, XXI. 613.
Feversham, town in Kent, IX. 528—
James II. at, V. 859,
Fevre (Tannegui Le), IX. 528.
Fez, in Africa, IX. 528 ; XV. 503—ma¬
nufactures of, IV. 365.
Fezzan, IX. 530 ; II. 236.
Fiat, in law, IX. 533.
Fiber, in zoology, XIV. 135,
Fibrarije, IX. 533.
Fibre, IX. 533—fibres of human body,
II. 711—colours of, XVI. 450.
Fibric acid, VI. 427.
Fibrin, VI. 494 ; XVII. 621, 622—its
qualities as an aliment, VIII. 18—
fibrinous secretions, XVII. 650.
Fibro-cartilage, II. 748—of the verte-
br®, 760.
Fibrolite, in mineralogy, XV. 155.
Fibrous, IX. 533—tissues of animals,
III. 158; XVII. 581, 603—strength
of fibrous bodies, XX. 755.
Fibula, or leg-bone, IX. 533 ; II. 790,
792—in the mammalia, III. 9—in
birds, 13—in reptiles, 15.
 , ancient button, IX. 533.
Fichte (John Theophilus), IX. 533—
on meaning of the pronoun I, I. 200.
Ficinus (Marsilius), IX. 536.
Ficoide®, in botany, V. 112.
Ficus. See Fig-tree.
Fidd, IX. 536—hammer, ib.
Fiddes (Richard), IX. 536.
Fiddle. See Violin.
Fide-jussor, IX. 537.
Fidei-commissum, IX. 537.
Fides, IX. 537.
Fidius, IX. 537.
Field, in heraldry, IX. 537.
 (Mr), on canal-locks, XVI. 33.
Field’s Bible, XVIII. 558.
Field-book, IX. 537.
Field-colours, IX. 537.
Field-fare, XVI. 571—shooting, XX.
307,
Field-glass of telescope, XXI. 164.
Field-pieces, IX. 537.
Fielding (Henry), IX. 537—merits of
his novels, XIX. 338.
Fieri Facias, IX. 542.
Fiesole, Italian city, IX. 542.
Fifeshire, IX. 542—cattle of, II. 324—
ferries on the Forth, IX. 767.
Fig, V. 50—sugar of figs, VI. 473.
Fig-tree, IX. 536—culture of the, XI.
640, 659.
Figeac, in France, IX. 545.
Figites, insects, IX. 226.
Fignuredo (Jonge de), V. 189.
Figeeras, Spanish town, IX. 545.
Figurative, IX. 545.
 language, VII. 186.
Figure, IX. 545—perception of, XIV
609, 611, 612. See Form.
Figures, in rhetoric, XIX. 214.
Figure and Size of the Earth, IX.
546; VII. 678; X. 393, 404 ; I. 501
—no correct information of, derived
from antiquity, ib.—attempt of Era¬
tosthenes to measure an arc of the
meridian, ib.—first modern measure¬
ment of any accuracy, by Snellius,
502— measurement of an arc by Nor¬
wood, Fernel, and Picard, ib.; VI.
218—Richer’s observation that a pen¬
dulum beats slower at the equator, I.
503— explanation of this by Newton
and Huygens, ib.—determination of
from of the earth by Newton, 561—
measurements by Cassini and Fonte-
nelle, 569 ; VI. 218 — Maclaurin’s
61
FIL—FIN
view of earth’s figure, I. 656—mea¬
surement of degrees of latitude under
equator and within arctic circle, 657-
8 ; V. 144 ; VII. 199—measurement
of degree of latitude by La Caille, I.
658—measurement of degrees by De-
lambre, &c,, 659—various estimates
of amount of depression at poles, 660
—measurement of a perptndicular to
the meridian by Brousseaud, ib.—es¬
timate of earth’s figure by vibrations
of pendulum, ib.—Kater’s convertible
pendulum, ib. — Ivory’s estimate of
earth’s ellipticity, 661—analytical in¬
vestigations to determine earth’s
figure, by Clairaut, Legendre, and La¬
place, ib.; III. 752—the demonstra¬
tion completed by Ivory, I. 661—dis¬
cussions regarding earth’s figure led
to an examination of the theory of the
tides, 662—corrigendum in this article,
XXI. 361, n. 2. See Trigonometrical
Survey.
Filagree IX. 579 XX. 805.
Filament IX. 575—^vegetable, ib.—of
flowers, HI. 95, 97—in botany, V. 43
—filamentous tissue of the human
body, II. 713.
Filanders, IX. 575.
Filangieri (Gaetan), political econo¬
mist, IX. 575 ; I. 237 ; XIII. 192.
Filaria, zoophytes, XXI. 998—in the
domestic animals, 632, 636.
Filbert-tree, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
File, a tool, IX. 576.
Filial, IX. 576 —piety, 577 — duty,
XV. 471.
Filicaia (Vincenzo da), IX, 578—poetry
of, XVIII. 161.
Filices, or ferns, V. 37, 138—organs of
reproduction in, 54.
Filigrane, IX. 579; XX. 805.
Filippo d’Argyro, IX. 579.
Filistata, arachnides, III. 358.
Fillet, IX. 579—in architecture, III.
467—in joinery, V. 687.
Film, IX. 579.
Filoti, IX. 579.
Filter, IX. 580.
Fimbria, XVIII. 352.
Fin, of fishes, IX. 585; III. 17; XII.
154, 157—Fins; see Finns.
Final, IX. 585—cause, ib.—letters, ib.
Finale, Genoese port, IX. 585.
Finances, IX. 585.
Finati (Giovanni), on the Arabs, IV.
319—adventures of, VIII. 499, n, 1.
Finch (Heneage), IX. 585.
 (Sir John), V. 314.
Finches, XVI. 581.
Fine, IX. 585.
Fine Arts, III. 645—academies of the,
II. 74, 75—utility of public exhibi¬
tions of the, III. 266. See Antiquities,
Painting, Sculpture, &c.
Fine-drawing, IX. 585.
Fine-stilling, IX. 585.
Fixers of gold and silver, IX. 585.
Fineering. See Veneering.
Finfoot, bird, XVI. 629.
Fingal, XII. 351.
Fingers, calculation by, II. 8—bones of,
788 —joints, 789—muscles, 793 —
motions, 795—opposition of thumb
and, 796—cases of supernumerary,
XV. 422.
Finger-alphabet, VII. 650.
Finial, in architecture, III. 467.
Finisterre, IX. 586.
Finkenwerder, island, IX. 585.
Finlaison (Mr),' his tables of mortality
and.annuities, III. 203—table of de¬
crement of life, XIV. 206, 208—on
mortality, XV. 527.
Finland, IX. 586—Gulf of, IV. 325-
coast of, 330—variation of the needle
in, XIII. 736—acquisition of, by Rus¬
sia, XXI. 28. See Finns.
Finlayson (John), his plough and har¬
row, II. 267, 350.
Finmark, XIII. 103.
Finns, VI. 274 ; IX. 410 ; XIII. 107.
Finnish language, XIII. 89,113—many
62
INDEX
FIN—FIS
words common to it and the Ameri¬
can languages, II. 619, n.
Pinow, canal of, IV. 331.
Finsbury, borough of, XIII. 536.
Fiord, XVI. 260.
Florin, culture of, II. 295.
Fir-trees, XVII. 747,781, 785—culture
of, 792—found in bogs, XV. 572.
Fir-timber, XXI. 295—measurement of,
298—weight of seasoned and unsea¬
soned, 808-9—its expansion by mois¬
ture, 352—specific gravity of, XII. 29
—its use in joinery, 618.
Firdousi, Persian poet, XVII. 252, 382.
Fire, natural, ia Persia, IV. 302—bap¬
tism by, 355—greatfire of London, V.
345 ; XIII. 488—wild, or Greek, IX.
586—insurance against, XII. 307. See
Combustion, Flame, Heat.
Fire-balls,meteors, IX. 587 5 VIII. 623.
Fire-bricks, V. 261.
Fire-damp, VII. 611, 80* 641.
Fire-engines, XII. 99.
Fire-escapes, XIII. 321.
Fire-ordeal, XVI. 519.
Fire-philosophers, IX. 588.
Fire-places, XI. 195. See Chimney,
Furnace, Smoke.
Fire-raising, or arson, crime of, XII.
257? XIV. 495; III. 630.
Fire-ship, IX. 588.
Fire-works, XVIII. 756.
Firkin, a measure, IX. 588.
Firlot, a measure, IX. 588.
Firmament, IX. 588.
Firman, IX. 588.
Firmiccs (Maternus Julius), IX. 588.
Firmness, faculty of, XVII. 463.
First-born, IX. 588.
First-fruits, IX. 588.
Fisc and Fiscal, IX. 588-9.
Fishes, XII. 151—acuteness of their
hearing, II. 111. 112—killed in Lap-
land by striking the ice, 112—use of,
as a manure, 305; as an article of
food, III. 20-21; VIII. 771; IX. 725
—poisonous species, ib. ; XIV. 507,
526—castration of, IX. 725—lumi¬
nousness of, XIII. 337—showers of,
XVII. 536 ; XIX. 60—in heraldry,
IX. 589—fish-ponds,ib.—supply offish
to London, XIII. 506. See Ichthyology.
Fish-eye stone, sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
Fisher (John)bishop,IX. 589; VIII. 745.
Fisheries, IX. 590—of Aberdeenshire,
II. 29—America, V. 401—Antrim,
III. 276 — Argyleshire, 484 — the
Baltic, IV. 326—Banffshire, 345—
Brazil, V. 209—Caithness, 781—the
Caspian Sea, VI. 217—Chili, 526—
China, 580—Clare, 726 —Cornwall,
VII. 368—Devonshire, 745—Donegal,
VIII. 113—Dorsetshire, 120—Down,
133—Dublin, 235—Dumbartonshire,
259 —England, 769—the Firth of
Forth, IX. 766—France, X. 195—
Ireland, XII. 408 ; XIV. 339—Italy,
XII. 488—Labrador, XIII. 4—Lap-
land, 111—Isle of Man, XIV. 213—
Naples, XV. 703 — Newfoundland,
XVI. 160; V. 403—Norway, XVI. 269
—Nova Scotia, 288—Ross-shire, XIX.
487—Russia, 576—Scotland, 769; III.
112—Siberia, XX. 326—Sligo, 944—
Stirlingshire, 730 — Suffolk, 789 —
Sutherland, XXI. 11—Sweden, 31—
Tuscany, 432—Waterford, 811—Wex¬
ford, 867—Wick, 878—Wicklow, 879
Yarmouth, XVI. 245—for pearls in
Ceylon, VI. 300 ; VIII. 60 —for
crabs, VII. 500—for shell-fish, XV.
372—nets for, XIX. 188. See Her¬
ring, Pearl, Salmon, &c.
Fisherrow, XV. 647.
Fishguard, Welsh town, IX. 609.
Fishing, IX. 609—in carpentry, VI.
166. See Angling.
Fishing-rod, III. 136.
Fishmongers’ Hall, London, XIII. 536.
Fissilabra, insects, IX. 137.
Fissipedes, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Fissirostres, birds, XVI. 577.
Fissurella, mollusca, XV. 348.
FIS—FLE
Fissurelladfc, mollusca, XV. 365.
Fissures, IX. 609.
Fistula, IX. 609—of the wethers, XXL
616.
Fistulana, in cbnchology, XV. 349.
Fistularia, fish, XII. 196.
Fistularidse, fishes, XII. 196.
Fistulides, zoophytes, XXI. 1001.
Fits in the domestic animals, XXL 632.
Fitches, a sort of pulse, IX. 609.
Fitchet, IX. 609.
Fitcht, in heraldry, IX. 609.
Fitero, Spanish town, IX. 609.
Fitzgerald (Lord Thomas), his attack
on Dublin, VIII. 236.
 (Vesey), V. 573.
Fitzharris, Irish adventurer, V. 352,
Fitzherbert on agriculture, II. 254.
 (Sir AnthonJ), IX, 609.
 (Mrs), V. 443.
Fitzroy (Capt.) on the tides, XXI. 286.
Fitzstephen (William), historian, IX.
610; XVII. 112, n. 9.
Fiume, in Austria, IX. 610.
Fixation, IX. 610.
Fixed bodies, IX. 610.
  stars, IV. 41 ; III. 756.
Fixity, in chemistry, IX. 610.
Fixlmillner (Placidus), IX. 610.
Flaccus (Caius Valerius), IX. 611.
 (Lucius Valerius), XVIII. 352.
Flacourtianese, in botany, V. 97.
Flag, IX. 611—of England, II. 154.
Flag-oppicers, IX. 611.
Flagellantes, fanatics, IX. 611.
Flagellations at Sparta, VIII. 3.
Flageolet, IX. 612 ; XV. 614.
Flail, IX. 612.
Flair, IX. 612.
Flambeau, IX. 612.
Flamborough Head, IX. 612.
Flame, IX. 612—electricity developed
in, VIII. 605. See Fire.
Flamen, IX. 612.
Flamingo, bird, XVI. 628.
Flaminia Via, IX. 612.
Flaminius (C.), IX. 613.
 (T. Quinctius),IX. 613; VI. 197.
Flamma (M. Calpurnius), VI. 191.
Flamsted, in Hertfordshire, IX. 613.
Flamsteed (John), IX. 613—his astro¬
nomical labours and discoveries, III.
743—his projection, X. 418.
Flanches, in heraldry, XI. 251.
Flanders, IX. 614—commerce of, VII.
158—agriculture, XVI. 142—school
of painting, 721; III. 648. See Ne¬
therlands, Flemish.
Flandrians, sect, IX. 619 ; XIV. 061.
Flank, IX. 615.
Flannan Islands, IX. 615.
Flannel, IX. 614.
Flasques, in heraldry, IX. 251.
Flat, in music. See Interval.
 Island, IX. 615.
Flat-fish, XII. 219.
Flaugergues, on the oscillation of waves,
XII. 4, 82.
Flavel (John), IX. 615.
Flaws (Capt.), voyage of, XVIII. 219.
Flax, culture of, II. 294 ; in Prussia,
XVIII. 692—Mr Lee’s mode of bleach¬
ing, IV. 688—steeping of, 689—dyes
worse than wool and silk, VIII. 298
—watering of, 302—structure of, ib.
— dyeing of, ib.—New Zealand flax,
XXL 823, 720. See Hemp.
Flax-spinning, XX. 583, etseq.; IX. 544.
Flaxman (John), IX. 615—his charac¬
ter as a painter, XVI. 727—his sculp¬
ture, XX. 9.
Flea, IX. 294—its agility, XX. 770—
destruction of, XXI. 603—fleas on the
domestic animals, 637.
Fleche (La), in France, IX. 617.
Flechier (Esprit), IX. 617.
Flecknoe (Richard), IX. 618.
Fleece, IX. 618. See Wool.
Fleet, IX. 618. See Navy.
Fleetings, VII. 592.
Fleetwood (William), IX. 618.
Fleming (Dr), his History of British Ani¬
mals, XVI. 553.
FLE—FLO
Flemingians, IX. 619; XIV. 561.
Flemish language, IX. 619—Bibles, IV.
617. See Flanders.
Flemming, poetry of, XVIII. 167.
Flensburg, Danish city, IX. 619.
Fleschier(J.), on the rainbow, XVI. 353.
Flesh, IX. 619—its structure, II. 737
—different kinds of, as articles of food,
III. 166. See Muscles.
Flbta, IX. 619.
Fletcher (Andrew), IX. 619—the Da¬
rien project encouraged by, VII. 627.
 (Giles), poet, IX. 621.
  (John), IV. 480—his dramatic
works, VIII. 169.
 (Phineas), poetj IX. 620.
Fletewood (William), IX. 621.
Fleur de lis, in heraldry, XI. PI. 277.
Fleurant, aeronaut, II. 188.
Fleurus, IX. 622—battle of, XVI. 124.
Fleury (Claude), IX. 621.
  — (Cardinal), X. 35.
 , in heraldry, IX. 628.
Flexible, IX. 622.
Flexor muscles, IX. 622.
Fleyder on the art of flying, II. 178.
Flight and Robson (Messrs), their Apol-
lonicon, XVI. 533.
Flinders (Matthew), his discoveries in
New Holland, IV. 206—his account
of its natives, 208—on coral reefs, 218.
 Island, IX. 622.
Flint, XV. 157—sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
 , Welsh town, IX. 622.
Flint-glass, X. 577.
Flintshire, IX. 622.
Flip, a sort of drink, IX. 623.
Flit-milk, VII. 592.
Float, IX. 623.
Floating, means of, XIII. 323.
 Bodies, IX. 623.
Floatstone, in mineralogy, XV. 157.
Floddon(battleof), VIII. 124, 743; XIX.
720—“The Flowers of the Forest,” a
song occasioned by, VIII. 129.
Floe, XVII. 519.
Flogging, punishment of, XIV. 512.
Floke, voyage of, XX. 212.
Flood, IX. 623. See Deluge.
 (Mr), XII. 383—his motion on
Parliamentary Reform, V. 457.
Floor, IX. 623-—construction of, V.
684, 687: XII. 613—measurement of
flooring, V. 690.
Flora, IX. 623.
Florac, in France, IX. 624.
Florales Ludi, IX. 624.
Floralia, IX. 624.
Florence, IX. 624 ; XXL 432—Aca¬
demy of Arts, H. 74 ; of Umidi, 76;
della Crusca, ib.; VII. 497—cathe¬
dral, III. 424—libraries, XIII. 310-
school of painting, XVI. 708, et seq.
■—bridge of the Santissima Trinita,
XX. 377.
 , an old English coin, IX. 624.
Florence-glass, or thermometer, IV. 393.
Florentine academicians the first to use
a dense fluid instead of air in thermo¬
meters, I. 640.
 marble, VI. 706.
Flores, one of the Azores, IV. 264.
 , or Ende, island, IX. 624.
Florianus, reign of, XIX. 413.
Florida, IX. 624—Indians of, II. 619
emigration of the Minorcans to,
. XV. 281—proposed canal in, XVI.
27 ; XXI. 472—railroad, 474.
Florido, Italian algebraist, II. 422.
Florilege, IX. 628.
Florin, IX. 628 ; XV. 400, 409, et seq.
Floriniani, heretics, IX. 628.
Floris (Francis), painter, IX. 628.
Florist, IX. 628.
FlorUs (Lucius A.), historian, IX. 628.
Flory, in heraldry, IX. 628.
Flotson, IX. 628.
Flounder, XII. 220.
Flour, IX. 628; IV. 295—constituent
elements of, 297 —adulteration of,
XIV. 508.
 (St), in France, IX. 629.
Flourencourt on mortality, XV. 547.
FLO—FOG
Flower-bud, III. 90.
Flower-garden, XI. 676—calendar, 687.
Flowers, IX. 629 ; V. 89—structure
and uses of, III. 95—changes in, from
fecundation, 98—preserving of, IX.
629—functions of, XXI. 581—colours,
ib.—odour, 582—savour, ib.—fecun¬
dation, ib.—their influence on the
air, 583—spontaneous movements of,
XXI. 587—florists’, XI. 681.
Fluates, VI. 456.
Fludd (Robert), IX. 629—on animal
magnetism, XIV. 3.
Flues of steam-boiler, XX. 683.
Fluids, IX. 630 ; XII. 9—compressi¬
bility of, II. 114—clarification of, VI.
727—propagation of heat through, 759
—cohesion of, VII. 20, 428—pressure
and equilibrium of, XII. 10—motion
of, 51—resistance of, 76 ; XIX. 165 •
XX. 267—oscillation of, XII. 81—
effects of passage of a body through,
XX. 246—of animal bodies, II. 705—
of human body, 712. See Capillary
Action, Hydrodynamics.
Fluidity, XI. 189 ; XVII. 567.
Fluke, or Flounder, XII. 220.
Fluke-worm, XXI. 993—in sheep, 628.
Fluoborates, VI. 456.
Fluoboric acid, VI. 373, 432.
Fluochromic acid, VI. 432.
Fluocolumbic acid, VI. 4 32.
Fluomolybdic acid, VI. 432.
Fluor, in mineralogy, XV. 140.
Fluor-spar, crystallization of, VII. 521—
of Derbyshire, 735—phosphorescent
effects of electricity on, VIII. 635-6.
Fluoric acid, VI. 362, 364.
Fluorides, VI. 456—of antimony, 385;
arsenic, 384 ; manganese, 407 ; phos¬
phorus, 381 ; sulphur, 376.
Fluorine, VI. 362.
 acids, VI. 432.
 acid salts, VI. 456.
Fluosilicates, VI. 456.
Fluosilicic acid, VI. 374, 482.
Fluotitanic acid, VI. 432.
Fluotungstic acid, VI. 432.
Flushing taken by the British, V. 528,
Flute, IX. 630 ; XV. 613.
 , or Fluyt, IX. 630.
 , in architecture, HI. 467.
Flute-player, Vaucanson’s mechanical,
III. 123.
Flux, IX. 630.
Fluxions, IX. 631—discovery of, I.
519; XIV. 318, 321. See Calculus,
Geometry (New).
Fly, in entomology, VIII. 38; IX. 60,
255 —how prevented from injuring
turnips, XII. 294.
 , in mechanics, IX. 709.
 Island, IX. 709.
 tree, IX. 709.
Fly-catcher, bird, XVI. 569.
Fly-fishing, HI. 133, 139—rules for, 135.
Fly-wheel, XIV. 418 ; XX. 653.
Flyers, Mexican, IX. 709.
Flying, IX. 709—artificial, ib. ;"II. 177.
Flying-fish, XII. 173, 201.
 Lemur, XIV. 102.
Fo, or Fohi. See. Fohi.
Foal, or colt, IX. 709.
Fochan, Chinese town, IX. 709.
Focus,, in geometry, &c., IX. 709—of
burning-glass, V. 725.
Fodder, IX. 709.
Fienus Nauticum, IX. 709.
Fietor, IX. 709.
Fcetus, IX. 709 — development of
nerves in, II. 736—bones of, 744—
teeth, 747—dimensions, 757—height,
758—vertebrae, 760—cranial bones,
783: viz. frontal, 770 ; ethmoid, 771;
sphenoid, 773 ; occipital, 774 ; tem¬
poral, 776—lower jaw, 779—mem¬
branes, 827—anatomical peculiarities!
828—evolution of, XVII. 693.
Fog, IX. 710 ; XIV. 748; XVII. 535-
fogs in Newfoundland, XVI. 159.
Fog-sickness in cattle, XXI. 624.
Fogaras, Hungarian town, IX. 710.
Focgia, Neapolitan city, IX. 710.
INDEX,
63
FOG—FOR
Foggo (7.), his observations on the elec¬
tricity of clouds, VIII. 618.
Fohb, or Fora, island, IX. 710.
Fohi, IX. 496; VII. 697; XV. 676-
religion of, 677, 678 ; VI. 560.
Foible, IX. 710.
Foil, IX. 710.
Foix, in France, IX. 710.
 (Earl of), VI. 603.
Fokien, in China, IX. 710.
Fokschani, IX. 710.
Folabd (Jean-Charles de), IX. 710.
Folclands, or Folklands, IX. 714.
Folcmote, or Folkmote, IX. 714.
Folds for sheep, II. 335.
Folengo (Theophilus), IX. 714—his
Macaronics, VIII. 273.
Foliating of looking-glasses, IX. 715.
Foliations, in architecture, III. 467.
Foligno, Italian city, IX. 715.
Folio, IX. 715.
Folkes (Martin), IX. 715.
Folkingham, IX. 715.
Folkstone, in Kent, IX. 715.
Follicles, in anatomy and physiology, II.
749, 750 ; XVII. 608, 648.
 , in botany, V. 48.
Follicclcs, IX. 715, 716.
Follis, IX. 716 ; XIV. 473.
Fomahaot, a star, IX. 716.
Fomartin, II. 29.
Fomentation, in medieine, IX. 716;
XXI. 613, n. 2.
Fong-hoa-tciiing, IX. 716.
Fong-tching, IX. 716.
Fong-yang, IX. 716.
Font, IX. 716, 792.
Fontaine, (Jean de La), IX. 716—poe¬
try of, XVIII. 165.
 (Augustus La), character of his
novels, XIX. 356.
Fontaines (P. F. G. Des), French cri¬
tic, IX. 717.
Fontana (Felix), IX. 717—on the struc¬
ture of the muscles, XVII. 609.
  — (Gregory), IX. 718—on the
microscope, XVI. 356.
Fontanelle, in anatomy, II. 771, 784.
Fontenay, in France, IX. 719.
Fontenelle (Bernard le B. de), IX.
719; I. 156—maxim of, 23—works
of, 157-9—aspired to be the philoso¬
pher of the Parisian circles, 159—his
character, 160.
Fontenoy, IX. 720—battle of, V. 381.
Fontevracd, order of, IX. 720.
Fontinalia, Roman feast, IX. 720.
Food, IX. 720—selection of, ib.—pre¬
servation of, 727—preparation of, 735
of the American aborigines, II. 632
—its relation to the teeth of ani¬
mals, 708—the young of animals pro¬
duced when it abounds, III. 169—of
the Crustacea, VII. 499—effects and
cases of excessive consumption of,
VIII. 23—of horses, XI. 604—of in¬
fants, XIV. 205—instinct of, XII.
301—its effects on health, XIV. 508
adulteration of, ib.—necessity of,
XVII. 618—properties of, 624—ani¬
mal, ib.—vegetable, ib.—man omni¬
vorous, 700—its preparation by steam,
XX. 608—of plants, XXL 570. See
Aliment, Cookery, Dietetics, Diges¬
tion, Fast, Nutrition, Voracity.
Foosht, island, IX. 736.
Foot, human, its structure, XVII. 616
—bones of, II. 791—arches, 792—
muscles, 794.
; ■ of mammalia, bones of, III. 8 —
its diseases in the horse, XXI. 618.
  , in poetry, IX. 736.
> a lineal measure, IX. 736—its
length in different countries, XXI.
846—Roman, VII. 200.
Foota Torra, XX. 94.
looiE (Samuel), IX. 736—merits of
his comedies, VIII. 176.
For, IX. 737.
Forage, IX. 737.
Foramen ovale, II. 666 ; III. 39.
Iorbes (Duncan), IX. 737.
' (Pi'of. James), on polarisation of
i
FOR
heat, XI. 187—on magneto-electri¬
city, XXL 692.
Forbes (John), IX. 738.
 (William),bishop of Edinburgh,
IX. 737.
 (Dr), on the mortality of Pen-
with, XV. 530.
Forbin (Count de), his treatment of Bel-
zoni, VIII. 549, n.—his description
of the fire of St Elmo, 624.
Force, IX. 741; IV. 173 ; XVII. 565 ;
XVIII. 778—composition and resolu¬
tion of forces, VI. 157 ; VIII. 357—
estimation or reduction of, 363—ac¬
celerating and retarding, 370 ; XIX.
497—deflecting, VIII. 379—central,
381—moving distinguished from ac¬
celerating, VIII. 379. See Dynamics,
Strength of Materials.
Forceps, in surgery, IX. 741.
Forcer, in mechanics, IX. 741.
Forcheim, in Bavaria, IX. 741.
Forcing of vegetables, XI. 653.
Fordingbridge, IX. 741.
Fords, how rendered impassable in war,
IX. 787.
Fordun (John), IX. 741.
Fordyce (David and James), IX. 742.
 (George), IX. 743.
Forecastle of a ship, IX. 743.
Foreign and Foreigner, IX. 743.
Forejudger, IX. 743.
Fore-knowledge, divine, XIV. 699.
Foreland, IX. 74 3—North and South ,ib.
Fore-locks, IX. 743.
Foremast of a ship, IX. 743.
Forensic Medicine, XIV. 493.
Foreskin, II. 825.
Forest, IX. 743 ; XX. 301, n.—influ¬
ence of climate on the distribution of
forests, II. 611—Bavarian, IV. 459
— Austrian, 230 —French, ib.; X.
177—subterranean,XV. 225—Russian,
XIX. 568 — their effect on climate,
XVII. 544—royal, in Britain, XXI.
289 ; in Northamptonshire, XVI. 251.
Forest-flies, IX. 292.
Forest-laws, IX. 744 ; XX. 300.
Forestalling, IX. 744—laws against,
II. 254, 258 ; VII. 334.
Forester, IX. 744.
Forfar, IX. 744.
Forfeiture, IX. 747.
Forfex, IX. 747.
Forficula, genus of insects, IX. 189.
Forge, IX. 747—anchor-smiths’, III,
106—iron, XII. 443. See Furnace.
Forgery, IX. 747; XIV. 495.
Forging, in smithery, IX. 748.
Forgiveness, duty of, XV. 474.
Forisfamiliation, IX. 748.
Fork, IX. 748.
Forlimpopuli, in Italy, IX. 749.
Forlorn.hope, IX. 749.
Form, various meanings of the word,
VIII. 10. See Figure.
 , in physics, IX. 748—peripatetic
doctrine respecting, XIV. 644.
 -, in carpentry, IX. 749.
 , faculty of, XVII. 464.
Formality, IX. 749.
Forman (Andrew), IX. 749.
Formation, IX. 750.
Formedon, in law, IX. 750.
Formentera, island, IX. 750.
Formey on dreams, VIII. 188—on phy¬
siognomy, XVII. 576.
Formic acid, VI. 427 ; III. 243.
Formica, insect, IX. 228. See Ant.
Forming, IX. 750.
Formosa, Chinese island, IX. 750—lan¬
guage of, XIII. 92.
 , African river, IV. 571.
Formula, IX. 750.
Formulary, IX. 750, 751.
Fornacalia, festival, IX. 751.
Fornication, IX. 751.
Fornix, in anatomy, IX. 751.
Foros, gulf of, IV. 660.
Forqualquier, in France, IX. 751.
Forres, Scotch town, IX. 751.
Forrest, his visit to New Guinea in the
year 1775, IV. 211, 212.
FOR—FOU
Forster (J. R.), IX. 752—on the aurora
australis, IV. 197—his botanical la¬
bours, V. 78—on Coptic, XI. 315—
on birds of paradise, XVI. 585.
 (John George Adam), IX. 753.
 (Mr), his rebellion, V. 315, 376.
Forsyth’s percussion-lock, XI. 38.
Fort, IX. 754—vitrified, ib.; II. 29.
See Fortification, Fortresses.
Fort Augustus, IX. 762 ; XII. 336.
Fort George, IX. 763; XII. 336.
Fort Gratiot, XV. 8.
Fort St David, IX. 763.
Fort William, IX. 763; XII. 336.
Fortalice, IX. 763.
Fortaventura, island, IX. 763.
Fortescue, family of, XI. 248, n. 1.
 — (Sir John), IX. 763.
Forth, river and firth, IX. 764; XIX.
747 ; XX. 729—its windings, VI. 720
—elevation of its shores, XV. 218—
its navigation, XVI. 13—canal from
it to the Clyde, ib. ; X. 550 ; VIII.
258; XIX. 751—land reclaimed from,
747—tides in, XXI. 282.
Fortification, IX. 769.
Fortified Island, IX. 787.
Fortin’s balance, IV. 305—his improved
Atwood’s machine, XIV. 452.
Fortissimo, in music, IX. 787.
Fortitude, IX. 787; XV. 465, 470.
Fortore, XVII. 3.
Fortresses, mode of attack of, III. 637 ;
IX. 776—their use in war, XXI. 742.
Fortuna, goddess, IX. 787.
Fortunate Insulae, IX. 787 ; VI. 73.
Fortune* IX. 787—Islands, 788.
Forum, IX. 788—Roman, XIX. 427—
Bacon’s “ idols” of the, I. 456.
Foscolo (Ugo), XIX. 350.
Foss, IX. 788—navigation, XVI. 13.
Foss-dike navigation, XVI. 13.
Fossa, IX. 788.
Fossano, Sardinian city, IX. 788.
Fossarii, IX. 788.
Fosse, in fortification, IX. 772.
Fossil, IX. 789 — shells, XV. 376—
trees, 205, 256, n., 572 ; XXL 916;
XII. 148—animals, XVII. 508, 587;
II. 653 ; V. 641; VII. 500; XX. 326
—plants, XVII. 508.
Fossombrone, XX. 345.
Fossores, insects, IX. 228.
Foster (James), IX. 789.
 (Captain Henry), on the pendu¬
lum, XVII. 212.
 (Sir Michael), on duelling, VIII.
254—on impressment, XII. 255.
 (Samuel), IX. 789.
Foster-brother, V. 592.
Fothergill (Dr George), IX. 790.
 (Dr John), IX. 790.
   (Mr), on the insensibility of in¬
sects to pain, III. 164.
Fothergill’s rope-machine, XIX. 464.
Fouche, XVIII. 254.
Fouchenge, Persian town, IX. 790.
Fougasse, IX. 790.
Foul, IX. 790—Islands, ib.
Foula Island, IX. 791 ; XXL 987.
Foulahs, IX. 791; XX. 93.
Foulis (Sir David), V. 315.
  (Robert and Andrew), X. 552«;
XV. 445, 448; XVIII. 855.
Foumart, XIV. 109.
Foundation, IX. 791—of buildings, V.
663; XIV. 296.
Founder (acute), in horses, XXI. 619.
Founding. See Foundry.
Foundlings in Paris, XV. 531.
Foundling Hospital, London, VII. 321;
XIII. 537—Dublin, VIII. 244—mor¬
tality in hospitals, XIV. 512.
Foundry, IX. 791. See Cannon, Cast¬
ing, Furnace, Gunmaking, Type¬
founding, Brass, Iron, &e.
Fountain, IX. 792. See Spring.
Fountain-tree, IX. 792.
Fouquieriaeeae, in botany, V. 111.
Four-boroughs’ Court, IX. 793.
Four-crags Island, IX. 793.
Four-saddle Island, IX. 793.
Fourouee, in heraldry, IX. 793.
FOU—FRA
FourcroY (Antony Francis de), IX.793,
Fourdrinier’s paper-making machine,
XVII. 17.
Fourier on internal heat of globe, XV.
176—on thermo-electricity, XXI. 697.
Fourmont (Stephen), IX. 797.
Fourness, in Lancashire, IX. 797.
Fourway cock, XX. 647.
Fou-tchang, IX. 797.
Fou-tcheou, IX. 797.
Fowey, town in Cornwall, IX. 797.
Fowls, IX. 797—fattening of, 723.
Fowler (William), VIII. 210, n. 1.
Fowling, IX. 797 ; III. 311.
Fowling-piece, XX. 304.
Fox, XIV. 116 ; XL 753 ; XII. 148 —
fox-hunting, XI. 742.
 Islands, II. 402, 404.
 River, XVI. 255, 256.
— (Charles James), IX. 798—on
the balancing system, IV. 313; V.
447—the Coalition joined by, 426—
his East India bills, 429,449—parlia¬
mentary conduct, 429, et seq.—ruin
of his political fortunes, 434—elected
member for Westminster, 435—on the
Germanic league, 438—on the sink¬
ing-fund, 439 — on the commercial
treaty with France, 442—his denial
of the Prince of Wales’s connexion
with Mrs Fitzherbert, 444—on the
Prince of Wales’s right to assume the
regency, 452—on the slave-trade, 454
—on increasing the army, 456—on
the corporation and test acts, 457—
his quarrel with Burke, 458—on the
relief of the Catholics, 459—on par¬
liamentary reform, 464, 470—on the
king’s speech in 1792, 466—on treat¬
ing with the French Republic, 467—
on the French war, 469, 473, 477, 499
—on the expediency of peace with
France in 1800, 492—on the peace of
Amiens, 508—Canning’s attack on,
VI. 82—speeches of, XIX. 219.
 (George), founder of the Qua¬
kers, IX. 798 ; XVIII. 765, 768.
 — (John), martyrologist, IX. 797.
 (Luke), voyage of, XVIII. 218.
Fox’s dipping-needle deflector, XIII. 7 69.
Fox-glove, a poison, XVIII. 178.
Fox hound, XL 699, 742, 752.
Fox-tail wedging, VI. 166.
Foy (General), on the military character
ofthe French and British,III. 601,622.
Foyers, fall of, XII. 335.
Foyle, Irish river, VIII. Ill—its navi¬
gation, XVI. 22.
Fracastorius, IX. 807—his poem “ De
Morbo Gallico,” XX. 828;
Fraches, IX. 808.
Fractions, IX. 808—algebraic, II. 430
continued, 475 ; I. 589—vulgar, HI.
557—decimal, 559-62 ; VII. 662 ;1.435.
Fracture, IX. 808 ; XXL 015—surgi¬
cal treatment of, XX. 837.
Frame, IX. 808.
Framing, in joinery, V. 688—measure¬
ment of, 691.
Framlingham, in Suffolk, IX. 808.
Frammersbach, IX. 808.
Frampton on Severn, IX. 808.
Franc, X. 221XV. 409.
Franc-quarter, in heraldry, XL 251.
Francavilla, IX. 808.
France, X. 1—history of, ib.; XI. 480,
et seq.; see also Chronological Table,
VI. <>6%etseq.—statistics, X. 169 ; IX.
413—its progress in literature and
philosophy during the 17th century, I.
49—Addison’s censure of the French
writers of his day, 55—sterility of
invention in the metaphysical writers
between Descartes and Condillac, 172
—disposition of philosophers of 18th
century to push their theories to ex
tremes, 180-81—literature of 18th
century divided into two eras, 277
—writers on mental philosophy, 184
—French and German schools of phi¬
losophy contrasted, 186-7—missions
to Abyssinia, II. 54—agriculture,342;
IV. 232 ; VII. 391—wars with the
64
INDEX.
FRANCE
Algerines, II. 506-8, 511—manufac¬
ture of alum, 577—West India colo¬
nies, 648—collections of bon-mots, or
Ana, 675 — cultivation of anatomy,
694, 700 — aqueducts, III. 320 —
pointed architecture, 422—influence
of the Italian school upon architec¬
ture, 427—army, 598—painters, 650 ;
XVI. 722—voyages of discovery to
Australasia, IV. 205, 206—war with
Austria, 221—comparative culture of
Britain, Austria, and, 230—politics of
Austria towards, 237—loaf in, 296—
law against the use of yeast in bak¬
ing, 297—trade with Barbary, 365—
beards and whiskers, 472, 473—man¬
agement of bees, 535—bleaching, 680
—botanists, V. 86, 90—wars with
Britain, 366, 368, 380, 383, 404-
conquest of Minorca, 384 ; and of
Hanover, 385—league with America
against Britain in 1778, 404—com¬
mercial treaty with Britain in 1786,
442 ; VII. 161,166, 414—Revolution,
V. 456, 460, 463; VII. 620—revolu¬
tionary war with Britain, V. 467, et
seq. ; X. 773—peace of Amiens, V.
506-8—expedition to St Domingo in
1801, 512—war with Britain renewed
in 1802, 515—Peninsular war, 542, et
seq.—peace of 1814, 535—Napoleon’s
return from Elba, 539 — battle of
Waterloo, 540; XXI. 751—policy of
British participation in the revolu¬
tionary war considered, V. 541—Cas¬
sini’s chart of, VI. 219—former trade
with Chili, 539 — influence of the
French civil wars on chivalry, 614—
morality of the court in the 16th cen¬
tury, 615—colonies, VII. 126 ; II. 648
—mercantile policy, VII. 164, 166
—iron-manufactures, 166 ; X. 559, n.
—short credits, VII. 170-1—the press
under Bonaparte, 316—copyright, 317
— books published, 320 — corn-trade,
363—condition of the agriculturists,
391—effects ol the minute division of
land, ib.—cotton-manufacture, 416—
condition at period of the Crusades,
488— persecution of the Protestants,
VIII. 135—the drama, 153, 154, 156,
159,177—duelling, 252—title of duke,
257—dyeing, 297 —the Economists,
398—Bonaparte’s expedition to Egypt,
488 ; XI. 305, 338, n. ; XVI. 759 ; and
Palestine, 759 —invaded by Edward
the Third, VIII. 728; and by Henry
the Fifth, 733—trade with England,
779—trade of Britain with, IX. 447-
fairs in, 477—fisheries of, 594—glass¬
making in, X. 564—contests with the
English in India, XI. 413—invasions
of Holland, 525, 527 — interest of
money, XII. 323, 327 —invasion of
Ireland, 381, 385, 386—Jews in, 583
—Code Napoleon, XIII. 184; X. 132
—state of the law, XIII. 200 ; XVIII.
736—libraries, XIII. 304—Locke’s ac¬
count of the government, 409, 410—
variation of the needle, 733, 736 —
state of masonry, XIV. 287—medical
jurisprudence, 491, 492—mines, XV.
250, et' seq. — seignorage on coined
money, 391—money, 399, 400, 407,
409—inland navigation, XVI. 5; XIX.
226—conquest of Belgium, XVI. 123,
124—newspapers, 171, 174—Bank of,
XVII. 46—University oft 77—height
of mountains, 506—hail-storms, 538
—poetry, XVIII. 164—police, 253—
political economists, 268, 278—porce¬
lain-manufacture, 434—invasion of
Portugal, 472—post from Britain,
489— post-office, 495—prisons, 583—
penal code, 736—the Reformation,
XIX. 94—registration of births, &c.,
103—roads, 299 ; XXI. 102—religion,
XIX. 315—romance, 331, 352—wars
with Russia, 558, et seq.—sculpture,
XX. 10—sea-lights, 25, 30—shawl-
manufacture, 193—rise of naval power,
226—royal navy, 228—peculiarities
of ship-building, 294 — method of1
FRA
launching ships, 295—cultivation of
the silk-worm, 352—former connexion
with Navarre, 497—war with Spain
in 1823, 509—surgery in, XX. 8 27,
et seq.—invasion of Switzerland in
1797, XXI. 44—-defect of the taxation
under the old regime, 98, 99, 103, 121,
123—land-tax, 104—computation of
tonnage of ships, 328—universities,
483, et seq. ; XVII. 77—weights and
measures, XXI. 852, 847; their com¬
plication, 841—superiority of wines,
897—wine-making; see Wine-making,
passim—maps of, vol. X. PI. CCL-1
and CCL-2. See French.
France (Isle of). See Mauritius.
Franceur, on mechanics, XIV. 355.
Franchise, X. 220.
Francia (Dr), II. 643 ; XVII. 58.
Francis (Philip), poet, X. 220.
 (Sir Philip), V. 434, 441 ; X. 220.
 1. king of France, VI. 605—reign
of, X. 30—his wars in Italy, XII. 476.
 II. emperor of Austria, history
of the reign of, IV. 221.
 (Cape), X. 220.
Franciscans, X 220.
Francisco (St), X. 221; XVII. 236 ;
XIX. 642.
Franco (Matteo), VIII. 274.
Francolin, bird, XVI. 611.
Frank language, X. 221.
Frank, or Franc, X. 221 ; XV. 409«
 (Dr Louis), on the plague, XVII.
772, et seq.
Frank-Almoigne—Frank-chase—Frank
fee—Frank-law— F rank-marriage—
Frank-pledge, X. 221.
Franken (Franciscus), X. 222.
Frankenhacsen, X. 222.
Frankeniaceie, in botany, V. 99.
Frankenstein, X. 222.
Frankenthal, X. 222.
Frankfort-on-the-Maine, X. 222, 597
—coins of, XV. 407 — commercial
league of, with Prussia, XVIII. 686—
weights and measures of, XXI. 853.
 on-the-Oder, X. 222.
 , in Kentucky, X. 222; XII. 698.
Franking of letters,V. 389 ; XVIII. 493.
Frankincense, VI. 492.
Frankland’s Islands, X. 222.
Franklin (Benjamin), X. 223 — his
theory of electrical phenomena, I. 618
—his talents and acquirements, ib.—
his plan of a floating anchor, III.
106—his controversy with Nollet,
V. 290—his friendship with Canton,
VI. 104—his clock with few wheels,
777—his discoveries in electricity, I.
618; VIII. 569—proved the electrical
character of lightning, I. 619 ; VIII.
618—on the magnetic effects of elec¬
tricity, 637—his electrical kite, 646
—on the Leyden jar, 650—on musical
glasses, XI. 149—his magic square
and circle, XIII. 683—on population,
XV. 514—on smoky chimnies, XX.
419, et seq.—on the art of swimming,
XXI. 40—on the laws of nature, 586
—his character of Whitefield, 875—
anecdote oft ib.
 (Sir John), on aurora borealis,
IV. 199, 200, 201—his arctic expedi¬
tions, X. 401; XVIII. 220, 222.
 (Thomas), X. 222.
 , town in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
  Institute, their experiments
on the elastic force of steam, XX.
588—formula representing the law of
the relation between that force and
the temperature, 596 — experiments
on the strength of boiler materials,
677—on fusible plugs, 682.
Franklinite, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Franks, X. 225—laws of the, VI. 123-
wars of the Romans with the, VII.
275 — Dubos on their entry into
France, VIII. 249—their conquest of
Gaul, X. 2 ; of Helvetia, XXI. 42—
Leibnitz on their origin, XIII. 205.
Frascati, Italian town, X. 225.
I Fraser’s account of Arabia, III. 324, et
FRA—FRE
seq. ; of Butkhara, V. 696, et seq. ; of
Persia, XVII. 241, et seq.
Fraserburgh, X. 225.
Fratercula, birds, XVI. 630.
Fraternal duty, XV. 471.
Fraternity, X. 226.
Fratriage, X. 226.
Fratricelli, X. 226.
Fratricide, X. 226.
Fratta-Maggiore, X. 226.
Frauenburg, X. 226.
Fraunhofer (Joseph),achromatic glasses
improved by, I. 635—superiority of
the flint-glass produced under his in¬
spection, ib.—Dorpat telescope made
by, IV. 102—on electrical light, VIII.
584—his micrometers, XV. 24—his
microscopes, 39—his optical disco¬
veries, I. 636 ; XVI. 371, 415, 437.
Fraustadt, in Posen, X. 226.
Fray, X. 226.
Frea, or Frigga, X. 226.
Freats, or Freits, X. 226.
Freckles, X. 227.
Fredegonde, X. 4.
Frederic, Elector Palatine, V. 307.
Frederick I. of Prussia, XVIII. 672.
 II., emperor, his invasion of Pa¬
lestine, XVI. 758—his patronage of
the University of Bologna, XXI. 488.
 II. of Prussia, XVIII. 672.
  III., the Great, X. 227—reign
of, XVIII. 672—character of, 683—
his army, III. 597—his opposition to
the plan of Joseph II. for the acquisi¬
tion of Bavaria, V. 437—his military
tactics, XXI. 738, 747, et seq.
 IV. of Denmark, VII. 723.
 Barbarossa, XVI. 757.
 , Prince of Wales, bis death in
the year 1751, V. 883.
 , town in Maryland, X. 230.
Frederick-William, Elector of Branden¬
burg, XVIII. 671.
Frederick-William II. and III., kings
of Prussia, XVIII. 683, 684.
Frederick’s Oord, in Holland, poor-co¬
lonies at, II. 347.
Fredericksburgh, X. 230.
Frederickshall, siege of, XXI. 25, 32.
Fredericksham, X. 230.
Frederickstad, X. 230.
Frederickton, a town in New Brunswick,
XVI. 149.
Free, X. 230—bench, ib.—cities, ib.
Free trade, VIII. 398—advantages of,
VII. 166, 414, 421.
Free will, XX. 88. See Liberty and
Necessity.
Freebooter, X. 230.
Freedom, X. 230. See Liberty.
F'reehold, X. 230.
Freeman’s letter-balance, XXI. 840.
Free-Martin, II. 326.
Free-Masonry, XIV. 280—the Diony¬
siacs of Ionia, III. 379.
Freethinkers, VII. 678.
Freewill Islands, X. 230.
Freezing. See Congelation.
Fregilus, bird, XVI. 574, 591.
Freiberg, in Saxony, X. 230—silver
mines of, XV. 255—battle of, XVIII.
682.
Freiburg, in Switzerland, X. 240—
suspension-bridge at, 218.
Freight, X. 231.
Friend (John), physician, X. 231.
Friesing, in Bavaria, X. 231.
Frejus, French town, X. 231.
French, their skulls, II. 784—their no¬
tion of ancient mythology, III. 257—
want the feeling of the antique, 268
—their military character, 601—
intellectual character, IV. 163-4—
nine-tenths of them desirous of peace
with England, VII. 17 6—contrasted
with the Germans, VIII. 177—their
gallantry, XX. 178, n.—superioi’ity in
ship-building, 223, 288—French Ca¬
nadians, VI. 65-68. See France.
 Academies—Royal Academy of
Sciences, II. 69—provincial Acade
mies, 70—Academy of Painting and
FRE—FRO
Sculpture, 73 — Royal Academy of
Music, 74—Academics of Architec¬
ture and Medals, 75.
French Academy, II. 77—expeditions
sent by them to determine the earth’s
figure and size, IX. 508 ; I. 657-8; V.
144; VII. 199—their experiments on
the force of steam, XX. 586—formula
representing those experiments, 595.
 berries, dyestuff, VIII. 321.
 Institute, XVII. 77.
 language, XIII. 88—Bibles, IV.
616—Norman, IX. 38.
Frenicle on magic squares, XIII. 681.
Fresch-Haff, IV. 329; XVIII. 691.
Fresco painting,X. 231; XVI. 699,707
Fresh-water serpents, XX. 141.
F’reshes, X. 231.
Fresnel (Mons.) on chromatics, VI. 632,
ct seq.—on magnetism, XIII. 724—his
optical discoveries, XVI. 370, 426,
435, 4 59, 465, 485, 497, 502—on po¬
larization of light, XVIII. 243-6—his
sea-lights, XX. 21, et seq.
Fresnoy (Charles Alphonse du), X. 231.
Fret, in architecture, X. 232—in heral¬
dry, XI. 251.
Fret-work, X. 232.
Freteau (Monsieur), X. 43.
Fretts, in mineralogy, X. 232.
Fretty, in heraldry, XI. 251.
Freudenburg, X. 232.
Freudenstadt, X. 232.
Frey (Jachimo), IX. 52.
Freyberg. See Freiberg.
FREYBURGj in Baden, X.'232.
 , in Switzerland. Sec Freiburg
Freyre, VI. 543.
Friable, X. 232.
Friars, X. 232—preaching, VIII. 108
—at Jerusalem, XII. 551.
Fricassee, X. 232.
Friction, X. 232—Coulomb on, VII.
426, 428—heat from, XL 195—of
water in pipes, XII. 69—laws of, and
mode of diminishing, XIV. 407, 443,
—communication of power by, 446—
of railway-carriages, XIX. 46.
Friction-wheels, XIV. 416.
Friday, X. 232—origin of tho word,
XVIII. 337.
Friderica, Danish city, X. 232.
Fridstol, X. 232.
Friedberg, in Bavaria, X. 232.
Friedland, Prussian town, X. 232 —
battle of, 146; XIX. 559.
Friedrichsborg, X. 232.
Friendly Islands, X. 231; XVIII. 322.
Friendly Societies and Savings Banks in
Scotland, XIX. 766.
Friends of the People, societies of, in
1791, V. 463, 466; VIII. 415.
Friendship, X. 233—Aristotle on, III.
521—ingredients of, XV. 473.
Friesland, X. 234—East, ib.
Frieze, III. 467—Doric, 438,450—Ionic,
439, 449—Corinthian, 441, 448—en¬
richments of Roman, 451.
Frigate, X. 234 ; XIX. 75—the first
built, XX. 222.
Frigate-bird, XVI. 634.
Frigate-built, X. 234.
Frigatoon, X. 234.
Frigid, X. 234—zones, 408.
Frigidity, X. 234.
Frigorific particles, X. 234.
 saline powders, VII. 60, 62. S<«
Congelation.
Frilazin, X. 234.:
Fringilla, birds, XVI. 580.
Frinoybazar, X. 234.
Frippery, X. 234.
Frisch on birds, XVI. 546.
Frisch-Haft IV. 329 ; XVIII. 691.
Frisi (Paul), X. 234.
Frisu, X. 236.
Frit, or Fritt, X. 236.
Frith (John), X. 240 ; VII. 446.
Fritigern, XIX. 419.
Fritzlar, X. 237.
Prize, or Freeze, cloth, X. 237.
Frobenius (John), X. 237.
Frobisher (Sir Martin), navigator, X.
INDEX.
65
FRO—FUL
237—liis north-west voyages of disco¬
very, XVIII. 217.
Fbobishfr’s Straits, X. 237.
Frodsham, town in Cheshire, X. 237.
Frogs, IX. 152—their hones, HI. 13, et
seq.—showers of, XVII. 536 $ XIX.
57—structure of, XVII. 714.
Froissart, his account of the Earl of
Foix, VI. 603—an enthusiastic de-
scriber of the combats of knights, 607
—instances of chivalry quoted from,
t 608, 609, 611.
Frome, river and town, X. 237.
Frondescentia, X. 237.
Front, X. 237.
Frontax, X. 237.
•   bone in man, II. 770—suture of
the, 782—in the mammalia, III. 4—in
birds, 12.
   sinus, II. 785.
Frontier, X. 238.
Frontignan, French city, X. 238.
Frontinus (Sext. Julius), X. 238—on
the Roman aqueducts, III. 317—on
hydraulics, XII. 1.
Frontispiece, in architecture, X. 238:
III. 467.
Fronto (Marcus C.), X. 238—discovery
of his works by Maio, XVI. 766.
Frost, X. 238—why scarcity of water
from springs is occasioned by, XVIII.
121. See Congelation,
Froth, X. 238.
Froth Spit, or Cuckoo Spit, X. 238.
Frowde (Philip), poet, X. 238.
Frozen Ocean, X. 239. See Polar Seas.
Fructescentia, X. 239.
Fructiferous, X. 239.
Fructification of plants, X. 239.
Fruits, X. 239—structure of, III. 98-
in botany, V. 47—preservation of,
IX. 728—maturation of, XXI. 584—
their influence on the quality of the
air, 584—effect of light on their co¬
lour, ib.—their constituent princi¬
ples, 894.
Fruit-garden, XI. 631—calendar, 687.
1 ruit-trees, protection of, from insects,
XII. 293, 294.
Fruit-stones, swallowing of, X. 239.
Fruitert, X. 240.
Frumentaceous, in botany, X. 240.
Frumentarii, soldiers, X. 240.
Frumentation, X. 240.
Frumentius, Christianity introduced
into Abyssinia by, II. 50, 51.
Frustum, in mathematics, X. 240.
Frutex, a shrub, X. 240.
Fry, in zoology, X. 240.
Fryburg. See Freiberg.
Fryth (John), X. 240 ; VII. 446.
Fuace, old English tax, X. 240.
Fucinus Lacus, in Italy, X. 240.
Fuucs, ancient dye, X. 241.
Fuego, or Fogo, island, X. 241.
Fuegos Isle, X. 241.
Fuel, X. 241; XIV. 511—that employ¬
ed in generating steam, XX. 602—of
steam-engines, 629—economyof, in
steam-boilers, 684. See Coal.
Fuente-Rrabia, Spanish city, X. 241.
Fuentes, VI. 544.
 de Honor, battle of, V. 529.
■ (Count), XVI. 114.
Fuerte (Villa delj, capital of Sinaloa
in Mexico, XIV. 818.
Fuga Isle, X. 241.
Fugalia, Roman feast, X. 241.
Fugitive, X. 241.
Fugue, in music, X. 241; XV. 639.
Fulcrum, in mechanics, X. 241.
Fulda, X. 241; XI. 287.
Fulgora, insect, IX. 202 ; XIII. 338,
Fulham, in Middlesex, X. 242.
Fulica, bird, XVI. 627.
Fuligula, bird, XVI. 637.
Fulke (Dr), his work against the Douav
Bible, IV. 618.
Fuller and Fullery, X. 242.
— (Dr Thomas), X. 242—on the
ships of the 17th century, XX. 224.
Fuller’s Earth, X. 242 ; IV. 690.
~ Thistle, culture of, II. 295.
FUL—FUR
Fulling, X. 242—of wooi, VIII. 299—
of cloth, XXI. 933.
Fulmar, bird, XVI. 632.
Fulminary tubes, VIII. 621.
Fulminates, VI. 4 56.
Fulmination, X. 243.
Fulminic acid, VI. 4 33.
Fulnek, in Moravia, X. 243.
Fulta, Hindu village, X. 243.
Fulton (Robert), his steam-boats, XX.
688, 6895 XXI. 469.
Fulvius, siege of Ambracia by, II. 599.
Fumaria, in botany, V. 80.
Fumariacese, in botany, V. 97.
Fumigation, in chemistry, X. 243,
Funambclus, X. 243.
Funccius on the progress of the Latin
language, XII. 292.
Funchal, X. 243; XTII. 671—maximum
and minimum dew points at, IV. 138.
Function, X. 244—animal functions,
IF. 711. See Physiology.
Fund, X. 244.
Fundamental, X. 244—bass, ib.
Fundi, town in Latium, X. 244.
Funding System, X. 244—difficulties
in 1796-7, V. 480, 483—national debt
of the United Kingdom, VIII. 796 ;
of Spain, XX. 521—Dr Hamilton on
the, XI. 125.
Fundulus, fish, XII. 199.
Funen, X. 257 ; IV. 328 ; VII. 725.
Funeral Rites, X. 257—in Abyssinia,
II. 62—of the N. American Indians,
620—in Denbighshire, VII. 717—of
the ancients, V. 712, 724 ; XII. 329 ;
XX. 528—coronach, VII. 372—fune¬
ral games, X. 259—oration, ib.—ser¬
mon*, ib.— escutcheons, XI. 260—
pile, XVII. 743—dead bodies exposed
to be devoured by birds in Tibet, XXL
258. See Burial, Tomb.
Funfkirchen, X. 260.
Fungi, in botany, X. 260 ; V. 39, 139—
reproductive organs of, 57—several
species of them poisonous, XIV. 506 ;
XVIII. 178.
Fungibles, in Scottish law, X. 260.
Fungic acid, VI. 4 29.
Fungicolse, insects, IX. 185.
Fungin, VI. 481.
Fungus. See Dry Rot, Fungi.
Funiculi, in botany, V. 46, 50.
Funnel, X. 260—filtering, IX. 582.
Funzha, river, IV. 732.
Furs, in heraldry, XI. 245—Siberian
XX. 325.
Fur-trade, X. 260—Russian, II. 406;
XIX. 588—of Canada, VI. 63—Hud¬
son’s Bay Company, VII. 184 —im¬
ports of furs into the United King¬
dom, VIII. 783.
Furbisher, X. 268.
Furca, in antiquity, X. 268.
Furche, in heraldry, X. 268.
Furetiere (Anthony), philologist, X.
268—his Table-Talk, II. 675.
Furcocerca, animalcules. III. 191.
Furcula, a bone of birds. III. 13.
Furies (the), X. 268 ; IX. 401.
Furling of sails, X. 269.
Furlong, English measure, X. 269.
Furlough, X. 269.
Furnace, X. 269—for assaying. III.
710—bellows used in blast-furnace,
IV. 714 ; XVIII. 130—brass-maker’s,
V. 186—for casting cannon, VI. 86
blast-furnaces, 88, XII. 432 ; XVIII.
129; XX. 406—coining, VII. 46—
glass-making, X. 566—hot-blast, 559;
XII. 439 ; XV. 246, 250, n.; XX. 406
—hot-housc, XI. 653—for reducing
quicksilver, XV. 259—current of air
in, XVIII. 129.
Furneaux (Tobias), his voyage of dis¬
covery, IV. 205 ; VII. 298.
 Islands, X. 276.
Furnes, city in Flanders, X. 277.
Furness, in Lancashire, IX. 797.
Furniture, in dialling, X. 277.
Furnival (Lord),in Ireland, XII. 359.
Furnival’s Inn, London, XII. 282.
Fukruckabad, Hindu town, X. 277.
FUR—GAI
Forth, Bavarian city, X. 277.
Furthcoming, in Scotch law, X. 277.
Fusarole, in architecture, X. 277.
Fuse, or Fusee, in artillery, X. 277.
Fusee, in clock-work, X. 277—of a watch,
VI. 786, 787 ; XIV. 365.
Fuseli (Henry), painter, X. 277—merits
of his works, XVI. 726-7.
Fusi, mountain, XII. 511.
Fusil, in heraldry, X. 277 ; XL 252.
Fusiliers, or Fusileers, X. 278.
Fusinieri on electrical light, VIII. 585
on the transport of ponderable sub¬
stances by lightning, 620.
Fuslee era, VI. 664.
Fuss (Monsieur), on the strain of co¬
lumns, XX. 760.
Fust (John), X. 278 ; XVIII. 543.
 , in architecture, X. 279.
Fustian, X. 279.
Fustic, yellow dye-stuff, VIII. 319.
Fustigatio, Roman punishment of free¬
men, X. 279.
Fusus, shell-fish, XV. 373.
Futteh Mahommed, VII. 564.
Futtehghur, Hindu town, X. 279.
Futtehpoor, Hi idu town, X. 279.
Futtocks, in a ship, X. 279.
Futtypoor, town of Hindustan, X. 279.
Future, X. 279—tense, ib. 660.
Future state, VI. 624, 625—belief of
the North American Indians in, II.
620. See Immortality.
Futwa, Hindu town, xl 279.
Fynach, falls of, VI. 137.
Fyzabad, Hindu town, X. 279.
G
G, letter of the alphabet, X. 280.
Gabale, in mythology, X. 280.
Gabara, in antiquity, X. 280.
Gabardine, a dress, X. 280.
Gabbronite, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Gabel, French tax, X. 280.
 , or Gablona, in Bohemia, X. 280.
Gabinian Laws, X. 280.
Gabinius (Aulus), X. 280 ; VIII. 475.
Gabion, in fortification, X. 281.
Gable, or Gabel-end, X. 281 ; III. 467.
Gabres, or Guebres, X. 281.
Gabriel, angel, X. 281.
Gabrielites, religious sect, X. 281.
Gad, X. 281.
Gadd’s patent ropes, XIX 467.
Gaddesden (John of), XX. 827.
Gaddi, painter, XVI. 709.
Gadeni, VI. 1.
Gades, Spanish city, X. 281. Sec Cadiz.
Gad-fly, IX. 279.
Gadidse, in ichthyology, XII. 217.
Gadolin of Abo, consequences of his
introducing the term specific heat into
science, I. 645.
Gadolinite, XV. 160—sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
Gadus, fish, XII. 217.
Gaelic language, V. 295; XIII. 86—
XVII. 378, 414, 415—its structure,
416—dictionaries and grammars, 417
—Bible, IV. 619.
Gsertner on the seeds of plants, III. 72,
et seq., 100—on buds, 89—his botani¬
cal labours, V. 80.
Gaeta, X. 281—bay of, XV. 698.
Gaffarel (James), X. 281.
Gaga, island, X. 281.
Gage, X. 281, 282. See Wind-gage.
Gaiirah, Hindu town, X. 282.
Gaiac, wood of, XVI. 681.
Gaildorf, in Wurtemberg, X. 282.
Gailenreuth, cave of, XV. 223.
Gaillac, in France, X. 282.
Gaimard on birds of paradise, XVI. 586.
Gain, X. 282.
Gainage, X. 282.
Gainsborough, in Lincoln, X. 282.
 (Thomas), English painter, III.
252 ; XVI. 726.
Gainza (General), VI. 540.
Gairloch cod fishery, IX. 601.
GAI—GAL
Gaisford’s edition of Suidns, XX. 799.
Gait, muscles employed in, II. 797.
Gains, or Caius, Institutes of, VI 712
715, 716; XVI. T68.
. Gajrat, XI. 30.
Gala Water, VIII. 429.
Galacineai, in botany, V. 112.
Galactophagi, X. 282.
Galago, in zoology, XIV. 97.
Galashiels, Scotch town, X. 282.
GALATiEA, sea-nymph, X. 282.
Galathea, in concho'.ogy, XV. 341.
Galatia, in Asia Minor, X. 282.
Galatz, city of Moldavia, X. 283.
Galaxy, or Milky Way, X. 283 ; IV. 48.
Galba (Sergius Sulpicius), Roman em¬
peror, X. 283—reign of, XIX. 404.
 , insect, IX. 140.
Galbanum, VI. 491—sp. gr. of, XII. 29.
Galbaud, governor of Hayti, VIIL. 105.
Galbula, bird, XVI. 594.
Galbulum, in botany, V. 50.
Gale, in nautical language, X. 284.
 (Dr John), X. 284.
 (Theophilus), X. 284.
 (Dr Thomas), X. 284.
Galeazzo of Mantua, VI. 608.
Galen (Claudius), X. 284—his anato¬
mical knowledge, II. 689 ; XVII. 726
—character of his works, II. 691—on
bathing, IV. 444, 445, 447-»~on in¬
sanity, XIV. 579—his attainments in
physiology, XVII. 726—his .skill in
surgery, XX. 824.
Galena, in Illinois, XII. 249.
 , a mineral, XV. 169.
Galenic, in medicine, X. 285.
Galenists, X. 285.
Galeodes, genus of arachnides, III. 366.
Galcopithecidaa, in zoology, XIV. 102.
Galeopithecus, in zoology, XIV. 102.
Galericulum, dress, X. 285.
Galerius, Roman emperor, XIX. 413,
414; XI. 491.
Galeruca, insect, IX. 184.
Galerucitai, insects, IX. 184.
Galens, fish, XII. 233.
Galgacus, V. 300; XIX. 405, 695.
Galgulus, insect, IX. 198.
Galiani (Ferdinand), Italian writer, X.
285—on free agency, I. 197, n. 2—
on wealth, XVIII. 274, n.
Galicia, Spanish province, X. 287.
Galien (Joseph), on aeronautics, II. 180.
Galienus, XIX. 412 — his massacre of
the Byzantines, V. 761.
Galileans, Jewish sect, X. 288,
Galilee, X. 288 ; XVI. 742.
Galileo Galilei, X. 288—his appli¬
cation of the law of continuity con¬
fined to physics, I. 258—Hume’s com¬
parison between him and Lord Bacon,
469 —on the acceleration of falling
bodies, 476 ; IX. 81—estimate of his
genius, I. 477—his discoveries con¬
firmed the Copernican - system, ib.
492-3—his telescope, 490; II. 98;
XVI. 855—his astronomical disco¬
veries, I. 491; III. 740—brought be¬
fore the Inquisition, and made to re¬
cant, I. 492—on the lever, 535—on
gravitation, 559—on musical strings,
II. 122—on the sun’s spots, III. 778
—his discoveries in pneumatics, IV.
885; 1. 476; XVIII. 71—Descartes’s
low opinion of, VI. 18i—on the pen¬
dulum, 767 ; I. 476—on projectiles,
XI. 42; I. 476—-on hydrodynamics,
XII. 2—on ice, 140—on mechanics,
XIV. 350, 360; I. 47t>—his micros¬
cope, XVI. 356—on the pump, XVII.
444—on moving forces, XX. 565.
Galipoli, city in Turkey, X. 206.
Galipot, specific gravity of, XII. 29.
Gall, X. 296. See Bile, Galls.
  (Francois Joseph), X. 296 ;
XX. 551—his phrenological doctrines,
XVII. 454—on cerebral fibres, 660.
 (St), in Switzerland, X. 298.
Gall-bladder, II. 817—mucus of the, VI,
497—disease of the, XVII. 478.
Galland (Antony), X. 298.
Gallas, Abyssinian tribe, II. 822.
66
INDEX,
GAL—GAN
Gallaxias, fish, XII. 200.
Galleas, XX. 218.
Gallegos, painter, XVI. 722.
 , river, XVII. 117.
Galleon, ship, X. 299 ; XX. 218.
Galleot, small galley, X. 299.
Galleria, insect, IX. 252.
Gallery, X. 299.
Galley, X. 299—ancient galleys, XX.
210—of the middle ages, 213—Eng¬
lish, 217.
Galli, ancient priests, X. 299.
Gallic alphabet, II. PI. 19.
 acid, VI. 429; VIII. 305—its use
as a mordant, ib.
Gallichtys, fish, XII. 186.
Gallicia, in Austria, X. 299 ; IV. 227 ;
XVIII. 212.
Gallicism, X. 300.
Gallicolee, insects, IX. 226.
Gallienus, reign of, XIX. 412—his mas¬
sacre of the Byzantines, V. 761.
Gallinaceous birds, XVI. 604—pairing
of, III. 168.
Gallini on dancing, VII. 613.
Gallinsecta, insect, IX. 206.
Gallinule, bird, XVI. 627.
Gallic of Ravenna, V. 301.
Gallipoli, X. 300 ; XV. 700.
Gallo-canta, Spanish lake, III. 373.
Gallois (John), French author, X. 300
—his opposition to the new geometri¬
cal analysis, I. 534.
Gallon, measure, X. 301; XXI. 841,
844—standard gallon, 846.
Gallonde’s scapement, VI. 775.
Gallop, X. 301.
Gallopagos Islands, XVIII. 798.
Galloway, X. 301—horse, II. 317 ; XI.
591—cattle, II. 323; XII. 736.
Gallows, X. 301.
Galls, X. 296—their use in dyeing,
VIII. 301, 304, 317—oak-bark a sub¬
stitute for them in dyeing, 328, n. 3,
329, 330.
Callus, VII. 273—reign of, XIX. 412.
  (C. Cornelius), poet, X. 301.
  , bird, XVI. 608.
Galtee mountains, XXI. 313.
Galvan (Edward), his embassy to Abys¬
sinia, II. 52.
Galvani (Louis), of Bologna, X. 301—
his discovery of galvanism, I. 623 ;
VIII. 572; XXI. 664.
Galvanic apparatus described, XXI. 665.
Galvanism, X. 302 ; XXI. 664—Sir
H. Davy’s chemical discoveries by the
aid of, VII. 638-9—discovery of, I.
623 ; VIII. 572 ; XXI. 664—Is nervous
energy identical with it ? XVII. 136—
-—Wheatstone’s telegraph, XXI. 138.
Galvanometer, Ritchie’s torsion, XXI.
688—Locke’s thermoscopic, 700.
Galvanoscope, XXI. 688.
Galway, Irish county, X. 302.
 , Irish town, X. 306.
Gama (Vasco de), X. 307 ; XVIII. 465
—his fleet, XX. 219.
Gamaliel, Jewish patriarch, XVII. 141.
Gamarra (General), IV. 760.
Gamasus, genus of arachnides, III. 368,
Gambasio, a blind sculptor, IV. 702.
Gambia, river, X. 309 ; XX. 92.
Gambier’s Islands, X. 309.
Gamble (Rev. J.), his telegraph, XXI.
138—quoted, 139.
Gamboge, VI. 491—sp. gr. of, XII, 29.
Game, X. 309—secular games, XX. 72.
Game-laws, X. 309—qualification for
killing game, XX. 301.
Gamelia, nuptial feast, X. 311.
Gamelion, Athenian month, X. 311.
Gaming, X. 311—bills for gaming debts,
IX. 458. See Chance, Probability.
Gamla Carlby, IV. 330.
Gammoning, X. 313.
Gamostyle, in botany, V. 45.
Gamrie, church of, IV. 345.
Gamut, in music, X. 313 ; III. 480.
Gandicotta, in Hindustan, X. 313.
Ganessa, Hindu mathematician, II. 425.
Ganga, bird, XVI. 611.
Ganganelli (Pope). See Clement XIV.
GAN—GAS
Ganges, river, X. 313; III. 676; XI.
376—resort of pilgrims to, IV. 560—
inundations, 564 ; XVII. 525—navi¬
gation, IV. 568 ; V.790 ; XVI. 3—fer¬
tilizing mud, XII. 4 54—discolours the
sea, XVII. 524 — the Sunderbunds,
XX. 809.
Ganglia, XVII. 661, 677—lymphatic, II.
730—nervous, 733—of brutes, III. 163
—of the invertebrata, 172—of insects,
IX. 7 7—ganglionic system, XVII. 680.
Gangoutri, in Hindustan, X. 314.
Gangpour, in Hindustan, X. 314.
Gangrene, XVII. 128—surgical treat¬
ment of, XX. 837.
Gan-King-Foo, in China, X. 314.
Ganjam, Hindu town, X. 314.
Gannet, bird, XVI. 634 ; III. 168.
Gantlet, or Gauntlet, X. 314.
Ganymede, in mythology, X. 314.
Gaol, X. 314—gaol-delivery, ib.
Gaons, Jewish doctors, X. 314.
Gap, in France, X. 315.
Gapers, shell-fish, XV. 373.
Gara (Lough), XIX. 478 ; XX. 392.
Garama, IX. 532.
Garamond (Claude), X. 315.
Garasse (Francis), X. 315.
Garawal, Hindu town, X. 315.
Garbe, in heraldry, X. 315.
Garcia (Don Manuel Jose), V. 659, 660.
Garcilaso de la Vega, Spanish poet, X.
315 ; XVIII. 162.
Card, in France, X. 317.
Garda, Italian lake, X. 317; XII. 484 ;
XIII. 469.
Gardant, in heraldry, X. 317.
Gardelegen, Prussian city, X. 317.
Garden (F.), Lord Gardenstone, X. 317.
  (Hr), of Charlestown, on the
gymnotus-eleetricus, VIII. 612.
 , fruit, XI. 631—kitchen, 631,
667—flower, 676—hanging gardens of
Babylon, IV. 267.
Gardener’s calendar, XI. 687.
Gardening, X. 318—history of, ib.—
principles of, 323—execution of the
general subjects, 337—Chinese orna¬
mental, VI. 585—use of stoves in heat¬
ing walls, XVIII. 128. See Horti¬
culture.
Gardiner (Stephen), bishop of Winches¬
ter, X. 343 ; VIII. 751, 753, et seq.
Gardiner’s Tables of Logarithms, no¬
tice of, XIII. 420.
Gargarism, or Gargle, X. 343.
Garget, in animals, XXI. 629-
Gar-fish, XII. 200.
Garioch, II. 29.
Garland, X. 343.
Garlic, culture of, XI. 672.
Garnerin (Monsieur), his descent from a
balloon with a parachute, II. 190.
Garnet, X. 343 ; XV. 159—crystalliza¬
tion of, VII. 522—specific gravity of,
XII. 29—lenses of, XV. 31.
Garnet-blende, in mineralogy, XV. 170.
Garnet Dennis, island, X. 343.
Garnet’s telegraph, XXI. 138.
Gamier (Marquis), on agriculture,
XVIII. 283—on price, 290—on indi¬
rect taxes, XXI. 110.
Garonne (Upper), X. 343—river, 169.
Garouste’s burning-mirror, V. 734.
Garrick (David), X. 344; XVI. 238;
XXI. 193—the stage improved by,
VIII. 176.
Garrison, X. 345—artillery, HI. 638.
Garrot, bird, XVI. 636.
Garrows, in Hindustan, X. 345.
Garrulus, bird, XVI. 584.
Garstang, in Lancashire, X. 345.
Garter, in heraldry, X. 347.
—•—- (Order of the), X. 345—its in¬
stitution, VI. 612.
Garth (Sir Samuel), X. 347.
Garve (Christian), X. 347,
Gas, X. 347—transmission of sound
through different gases, II. 116 —
methods of determining relative den¬
sities of, I. 611—coal-gas, VI. 372—
propagation of heat through, 759—
effects of electricity on, VIII. 632—
GAS-GAY
condensation of, XI. 192 — specific
gravities of various kinds of, XII. 29,
30—its application in moving en¬
gines, XIV. 437 — gaseous poisons,
XIV. 503.
Gas-light, X. 348; VI. 372; XIII. 45-
in Glasgow, X. 561—its effect on the
whale-fishery, IX. 608—whether de¬
sirable in lighthouses, XX. 28.
Gascoigne (George), poet, X. 368.
 , inventor of micrometer, XV. 10.
Gascon (John), his expedition against
the Algerines, II. 506.
Gasometer, X. 353.
Gaspar Soares, iron works at, V. 208.
 — Strait, X. 368.
Gassendi (Peter), X. 368—contrast be¬
tween him and Descartes, I. 70—
studied Bacon, ib.—his partiality for
Epicurean physics, 71—his argument
against Descartes, ib.— Did he disco¬
ver the doctrine concerning the ori¬
gin of our knowledge ? 72—his advan¬
tages over Descartes in renouncing
the doctrine of innate ideas, 73—his
merits as a philosopher and writer,
ib., 109—his orthodoxy as a Roman
Catholic, 248—his followers, 107,108—
his doctrine of ideas, 109—his astro¬
nomical labours, 495 ; III. 741
Gassiot (M.), chemical power of the elec¬
tric pile exhibited by, XXI. 673.
Gassner’s exorcismal cures, XIV. 9.
Gasteropelecus, fish, XII. 212.
Gasterophilus, XXI. 627.
Gasteropoda, mollusca, XV. 355—struc¬
ture of, XVII. 719.
Gasterosteus, fish, XII. 175.
Gaston, earl of Foix, VI. 603.
Gastric juice, X. 369 ; XVII. 628.
Gastritis, in cattle, XXI. 625.
Gastrobranchus, fish, XII. 237—its re¬
spiratory organs, III. 40.
Gastroclnena, in conchology, XV. 340.
Gastromancy, X. 369.
Gastroraphy, in surgery, X. 369.
Gastrotomy, in surgery, X. 369.
Gastrus, insect, IX. 280.
Gataker (Thomas), X. 369.
Gath, in Palestine, X. 369.
Gatrone, IX. 533.
Gatun, river, XVI. 783.
Gaubius (Jerome-David), X. 369.
Gauden (John), X. 369 ; XIII. 22.
Gau-el-kebir, ruins at, VIII. 544.
Gauging, See Mensuration.
Gauging-Rod, X. 371.
Gaukarna, Hindu town, X, 371.
Gaul, X. 1, 372—origin of the word,
XVII. 417—druids of, VIII. 204 —
Greek colony at Marseilles, ib.—Caa-
sar’s exploits in, XIX. 396.
Gauls, V. 293; XVII. 414—their belief
in immortality, VI. 625, 626—their
language, XVII. 414—Rome taken by
the, XIX. 374—their human sacri¬
fices, 605.
Gaungra, district of Berar, X, 372.
Gauntlet, X. 314.
Gauss (Mons.), curious discovery of, in
geometry, I. 585—on the general theo¬
ry of quadratic factors or impossible
roots, 596—on equations, IX. 343—
on magnetism, XIII. 700,750—on the
micrometer, XV. 12—on the method
of the least squares, XVIII. 638—on
the projection of the sphere, 658.
Gautama, V. 637.
Gauthey (Mr), his experiments on the
strength of stone, XX. 759.
Gautier on substitutes for oars, XX. 687.
Gauze, X. 372.
Gavel and Gavel-kind, X. 372.
Gaveston (Pierre), VIII. 726.
Gavials, reptiles, XIX. 134.
Gavotta, a kind of dance, X. 373.
Gawelgur, in Hindustan, X. 373.
Gawnagh (Lough), VI. 255.
Gay (John) poet, X. 373—tendency of
his Beggar’s Opera, VIII. 175.
  (Rev. Mr), his dissertation on
virtue, I. 170—suggested to Hartley
the idea of association, 364.
GAY—GEM
Gaya, island, X. 374 ; XVI. 374.
Gayah, Hindu town, X. 374.
Gayal, in zoology, XIV. 167.
Gay-Lussite, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Gay-Lussac, his agrial voyages, II. 192,
193—his portable barometer, IV. 400
—his analysis of sugar, V. 247—his
theory of volumes of gases, VI. 354—
on the electricity of the torpedo, VIIL
610—on electricity, 617—on evapora¬
tion, IX. 426, 427—on capillary at¬
traction, XII. 42, 45, 49—on solar
light, XVI. 421 his eudiometer,
XVII. 531—his hygrometer, 533—on
latent heat, XX. 601—on the specific
gravity of steam, 602—his Table of
the density and volume of steam, 603.
Gaza (Theodore), X. 374.
 , in Palestine, X. 374 ; XVI. 741
—taken by Alexander, XIII. 632.
Gazelle, XIV. 162.
Gazette, X. 374; XVI. 168.
Gazna, city in Asia, X. 374.
Gazypoor, in Hindustan, X. 374.
Geary (Admiral), V. 415.
Gebel Mokat’teb, ancient inscriptions
at, XII. 291.
Geber on chemistry, VI. 341.
Gebres, X. 281.
Geby, or Gibby, island, X. 374.
Geby Zeh, or Gebsa, X. 375.
Gecko, reptile, XIX. 146.
Geckotidce, reptiles, XIX. 146.
Ged (William), X. 375 ; XVIII. 564.
Geddes (Dr Alexander), X. 375—on the
Scottish language, IX. 42.
Gedrosia, march of Alexander the Great'
through, XIII. 638.
Gedumah, XX. 94.
Geer (De) on ants, III. 239.
Gefle, IV. 827. “
Gefleborg, in Sweden, X. 376.
Gefrees, in Bavaria, X. 377.
Gehenna, X. 377.
Gehlenite, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Gehren, German town, X. 377.
Geisler( Frederick),on anonymous books,
IV. 627.
Geislingen, in Wurtemberg, X. 377.
Gela taken by Carthaginians, VI. 185.
Gelaheau era, VI. 662.
Gelatine, VI. 502 ; XVII. 620, 622—
abounds in some fishes, III. 20—its
quality as a nutriment, VIII. 19—its
extraction from bones, XX. 609 —
gelatinous secretions, XVII. 650.
Gelders, Prussian town, X. 377.
 , or Guelders, X. 377.
Gelieu, his hive, III. 283.
Gellert (Christian Furghtcgott), Ger¬
man author, X. 377.
—   (Monsieur), on capillary attrac¬
tion, XII. 40.
Gelli (John Baptist), X. 377.
Gellibrand (Henry), astronomer, X.
378—on logarithms, XIII. 420—on
the compass, XV. 749.
Gellius (Aulus), X. 378; XVII. 413.
Gelnhausen, Hessian town, X. 378.
Gelon, king of Syracuse, X. 378—his
defeat of the Carthaginians, VI. 184
—reign of, 55.
Gems, X. 378 ; XV. 154—skill of the
ancients in cutting them, III. 259—
ancient imitation gems, 261—gems
of Ava, IV. 241 ; Ceylon, VI. 300 ;
Egypt, VIII 518—mode of cementing,
VI. 278—crystallization of, VII. 515,
522—counterfeit, VIII. 123—magnet¬
ism of, XIII. 709—lenses of, XV. 29, et
seq.—microscopic cavities in, 57. See
the geographical articles generally.
Gemappe, X. 379. See Jemmappes.
Gembloux, town of Namur, X. 379.
Gemini, constellation, X. 379.
Geminiani, musician, X. 379.
Gemishkhana, in Asia Minor, X. 380.
Gemma, a species of bud, III. 90.
Gemmation of leaves, V. 36.
Geminus on the ancient Egyptian calen¬
dar, VIII. 554.
Gemimus of Rhodes, X. 426.
Gemoni* Scal«, X. 380.
GEM—GEN
Gemmule, in botany, V. 51.
Gempylus, fish, XII. 183.
Genapfe, in the Netherlands, X. 380.
Gendarmerie, X. 220.
Gender, in grammar, X. 380, 641, 683.
Genealogioa Arbor, X. 380.
Genealogy, X. 380.
General, X. 380.
General Assembly of the Church of
Scotland, XIX. 763.
Generalissimo, X. 380.
Generate, in music, X. 380.
Generated, or genited, X.-380.
Generating line, in geometry, X. 380.
Generation, X. 380.
  of animals, XVII. 684; XIV. 515
—of vertebrated animals, II. 706 ;
the mammalia, 708 ; animalcules, III.
185 ; ants, 242 ; bees, IV. 529, 532 ;
plants, V. 39, 43 ; XXI. 583 ; insects,
IX. 108; the mollusca, XV. 352, et
seq.; frogs, XIX. 152 ; serpents, XX.
132; zoophytes, XXI. 990 ; intesti¬
nal worms, 992, 994, et seq.—points
of resemblance and difference in re¬
production of plants and animals, III.
157—hybrids generally barren, 161
—Have all animals progenitors ? 162 ;
XXI. 992—genus said to be produced
from vegetable seeds, III. 187, 191
—succession of blind children in fa¬
milies, IV. 698—castration, VI. 236.
See Callipaedia, Reproduction.
  (organs of), in man, II. 823;
XVII. 687—their muscles, II. 794—
in brutes, III. 40—in plants, 95, 97.
. Generator, in music, X. 381.
Generosity, why much esteemed, VIII. 28.
Genesis, book of, X. 381.
 , in geometry, X. 381.
Genetulia, ancient solemnity, X. 381.
Genethliaci, in astrology, X. 381.
Genetta, in zoology, XIV. 118.
Geneva, X. 381—independence of, IV.
312—Bible, 618—political troubles in
the year 1782, VIII. 264—coins, XV.
407, 409—population, 534.
   (lake of), X. 381; XVII. 523;
XXI. 46—its temperature at different
depths, VI. 749.
 , or gin, X. 381 ; VIII. 51.
Genevieve (Fathers of), X. 381.
 (St), in Missouri, XV. 304.
Genevois, province of Savoy, X. 381.
  (J- A.), of Berne, his duck-foot
propellers, XX. 687.
Genghis-Khan, III. 688; XI. 409, 482;
XV. 316 ; XXI. 82—his destruction
of Bokhara, V. 699—his invasion of
China, VI. 550, 552—La Croix’s His¬
tory of, VII. 475.
Genial gods, X. 381.
Genii, among the orientals, X. 382.
Genites, among the Hebrews, X. 382.
Genitive, in grammar, X. 382, 642.
Genius, good or evil spirit, X. 382 
Greek and Roman belief respecting
genii, III. 296. See Daimon.
 , in literature, &c„ X. 38g—its
relation to insanity, III. 307—Sir J.
Reynolds on, XXI. 90.
 — of a language, XIII. 64.
Genlis, or Senlis, in France, X. 382.
Gennes (M. de), on weaving by mechani¬
cal power, XXI. 830.
Gennesareth, lake of, XVII. 522.
Gennets, in zoology, XIV. 118.
Genoa, X. 382—Academy of Sciences
at, II. 69—commerce of, VII. 157 ;
XV. 745—Bonaparte’s seizure of, X.
136—coins of, XV. 407, 409-weights
and measures of, XXI. 853, 848.
Genovesi (Anthony), X. 383 ; I. 202.
Genseric the Vandal, XIX. 422-3.
Gentiah, in Hindustan, X. 384.
Gentianin, VI. 468.
Gentile, X. 384.
Gentileschi (Horatio), painter, X. 384.
Gentilis (Albericus), X. 384—merits
of, as the precursor of Grotius, I.
25-6—an apologist for MachiaveUi, 233.
(Scipio), X. 385.
Gentleman, X. 385; VII. 178.
IN D
GEN—GEO
Gentleman’s Magazine, VI. 259.
Gentoos. See Hindustan.
Gentz on the balance of power, IV. 308,
309, 311.
Genuflexion, X. 385.
Genus, X. 385—in botany, V. 59, 60, 62
—in natural history, XV. 738—ge¬
nera and species of things, XIII. 447.
Geocentric, in astronomy, X. 385.
Geocorisse, insects, IX. 195.
Geoffroy of Monmouth, X. 385.
  (Stephen Francis), X. 386 —
a bad authority on ants, III. 239—his
chemical arrangement of bodies, VI.
356—on conchology, XV. 331.
Geography, X. 387—history of, ib.—
mathematical, 403—physical, XVII.
498—Venetian Academy for the im¬
provement of, II. 68—D’Anville’s im¬
provements of, III. 278 — mode of
teaching it to the blind, IV. 697—im¬
proved by the Crusades, VII. 493,
494—Edrisi’s work on, VIII. 432—
utility of medals in, XIV. 464—pro¬
jection of the sphere, XVIII. 656—
geographical distribution of plants,
XVII. 545 ; of animals, 549 ; III. 161;
II. 652 ; of insects, IX. 97 ; fishes,
XII. 237; serpents, XX. 133. See
Earth, Physical Geography, and names
of countries, towns, &c.
Geology, XV. 173—narth’s internal
structure, I. 675 ; cases of subsidence
of its surface, II. 45 — geology of
Mount jRtna, 202; of America, II.
609, 614 ; of the Andes, III. 116; of
Egypt, VIII. 517—fossil remains of
the mammoth, &c. in America, II.
653 ; V. 641—emergence of islands
from the ocean near the Azores, IV.
264—Falls of Niagara, VI. 59—allu¬
vial plains, or curses, 178—internal
heat of the earth, 745—date of the
creation, VII. 454—final conflagra¬
tion, 211—extinct Crustacea, 500—the
Deluge, 702—erratic blocks, 703—
scratches on rocks, ib.—Dolomieu on
geology, VIII. 96, 97—knowledge of
it necessary in draining, 136—silting
of seas and rivers, 193—geological re¬
lations of insects, IX. 106—earth’s
figure proves its former fluidity, 574
—fossil infusoria, XV. 56—elevation
of Norwegian shores, XVI. 263—basis
of geology, XVII. 508—epochs of, ib.
—circumstances affecting the present
order of phenomena, 510—formation
of deltas, XVII. 524; VIII. 507—ap¬
plication of physiology to, XVII. 587
—fossil bones in Siberia, XX. 326—
large quantities of limestone and
chalk produced by animalcules, XXI.
1021. See Colliery, Fossil, Physical
Geography, and the geographical ar¬
ticles generally.
Geomancy, X. 421; VIII. 58.
Geometrical proportion, II. 439.
Geometry, X. 422—history of, ib.—
plane, 432—of solids, 457—the genius
of the Greeks beautifully displayed
in, I. 435,580-81—contributions to, by
Euclid, Archimedes, and Apollonius,
435—geometrical analysis, ib.—works
of Regiomontanus, ib.—introduction
of trigonometry and decimal fractions,
ib.—Werner, Benedetto, Maurolycus,
and Cavalieri, 436—exhaustions of
the ancients, ib.—idea of quantities
infinitely great and small introduced
by Kepler, 438—generation of solids
by means of, ib.—Kepler’s view of
the composition of circles, ib.—obser¬
vations on lines and areas, ib.—pur¬
pose served by the doctrine of quan¬
tities infinitely small in size, and in¬
finitely great in number, 439—the
cycloid, ib.—results of introduction
of algebra, 444—Descartes’ Geometria,
ib.—Fermat’s method of drawing tan¬
gents to curves, 445 — geometrical
and algebraic method of treating
quantity, ib.—high value set on the
geometrical construction of problems
X.
GEO
by the Greeks, I. 583—attempts to as¬
certain relation of diameter to the
circumference, ib. — incommensura¬
bility of the circle, 584—best elemen¬
tary works on, ib.—elementary plane
rests on the combined properties of
the straight line and the circle, ib.—in¬
struments required in solving the
common problems, 585—best manner
of treating lines and curves of die
second order, ib.—improvement made
in trigonometry during the last cen-
tury, ib.—Descartes’ discoveries, 594
—application of algebra to, II. 424,
480 — Dr Beddoes on the nature of
evidence in, IV. 514—characters of ab¬
breviations in, VI. 323—intimate con¬
nection of dynamics with, VIII. 381
—applications of the fluxional calcu¬
lus to, IX. 705—Egyptian knowledge
of, X VII. 430—ancient geometrical an¬
alysis, XX. 359. See Angle, Circle,
Trigonometry, &c.
Geometry (New), state of the sciences
when Newdon arose, I. 518—problem
of quadrature of circle solved by him,
ib.—Wallis’s Arithmetic of Infinities,
ib.—discovery of Fluxions by Newton,
519 ; XIV. 318, 321—Newton the first,
and Leibnitz the second, inventor of
the new infinitesimal analysis, I. 520
— controversy relative to the dis¬
covery, 521, et seq.—steps by which
the mathematical sciences were pre¬
pared for the new analysis, 525—this
analysis first appeared in the method
of exhaustions, ib.—advanced a step
in Cavalieri’s method of indivisibles,
ib.—Descartes’ application of algebra
to geometry of curves, ib.—method
of Cavalieri improved and extended
by Torricelli, Barrow, &c., ib.—lastly
appeared Newton and Leibnitz, who
made their discoveries separately, 526
—rejection of the higher powers of
the differences of the variable quanti¬
ties by Leibnitz, liable to objection,
ib.—the two problems into which the
analysis, thus constituted, is divided,
526-8—manner in which Newton pro¬
ceeded, 526—the fluxionary and dif¬
ferential calculus, two modifications
of one general method, 527—the in¬
troduction of the analysis greatly en¬
larged the domain of the mathematical
sciences, ib. — problems of maxima
and minima, to which it was extended,
ib.—is peculiarly adapted to physical
researches, 528—problem of integra¬
tion, 528-9—calculus first published
by Leibnitz, 530—writers by whom it
was explained and improved, 531-2—
its firm establishment in Europe, 532
—English mathematicians fell behind
the French in the integrations of dif¬
ferential or fluxional equations, 533
—opponents of the new method, ib.
— contributions to the science by
Cotes, Taylor, Bradley, Maclaurin,
&c., 576, 598-9—the. Italian mathe¬
maticians contributed to the advance¬
ment of the higher calculus, 599—
Euler’s method of determining parti¬
cular integrals, ib.—extension of the
modern calculus by that of partial
differences, ib.—application of it by
Euler and D’Alembert, 600—calculus
of variations, ib.—distinction between
differentials and variations, ib.—in¬
tegration of differential equations, ib.—
modifications of theory of infinitesimal
calculus, ib.—the method of prime
and ultimate ratios preferred by New¬
ton, 601 — improved by Robins and
Lauder, ib. — method of derivative
functions, ib.—works on prime and
ultimate ratios, 602. See Calculus,
Fluxions, Newton, &c.
Geomys, in zoology, XIV. 137.
Geophilus, insect, XV. 655.
 , bird, XVI. 614.
George I., his reign, V. 373—death, 378
—navy, XVI. 42.
67
GEO—GEE
George II., at the battle of Oudenarde,
V. 372—his reign, 378—death, 385-
navy, XVI. 42-Sir R. Walpole’s ex¬
cise-scheme in reign of, XXL 99.
 III., his reign, V. 385—first ill¬
ness, 390 — opposition to Mr Fox’s
India bill. 431—attempted assassina¬
tion by Margaret Nicholson, 442 
illness in 1788,451—recovery in 1789,
154—insulted by the mob in 1794,
478—his anti-Catholic feelings, and
opposition to Lord Howick’s bill, 521
—illness in 1810, 532—Duke of York
vested with the custody of his person,
544—his death, 545—character, 547
insanity, XIV. 586—navy, XVI. 43—
corn-acts of 1773, 1791, 1804, and
1814, VII. 339, 340—subsequent his¬
tory of the corn-laws in his reign.
341. 6
—— IV., his establishment as Prince
ofWales, V.428—his pecuniaryembar-
i assment in 1787, 443—discussions
on his right to the regency, 452—his
debts, 477 —appointed regent, 532
—conduct of his wife, 543—his acces¬
sion to the throne, 545—history of
his reign, 447—his hatred • of his
wife, 549—his dislike to the Catholic
question, 575—his death and charac¬
ter, 578—corn-laws in his reign, VII.
341—his visit to Ireland, VIII. 237 •
XII. 388 ; to Edinburgh, VIII. 4,15.'
 (St) of Cappadocia, X. 467, 468.
 — (St), one of the Azores, IV. 263.
 (St), or Madras. See Madras.
 (Knights of St), X. 467, 468.
 (Lake), X. 468 ; XXL 455.
 j the Olympian, X. 744.
 (St), Cross of, X. 468.
George’s (King) Islands, X. 467.
  (St) Island, X. 468.
 Channel, X. 468.
 (St)Hospital,London, XIII. 515.
Georgetown, in Columbia, X. 469 
in South Carolina, ib.—in Prince of
Wales’ Island, ib. ; XVIII. 535—in
Grenada, X. 771—in Kentucky, Xll.
699—in Maryland, XIV. 274.
Georgi on Coptic, XI. 315.
Georgia, Russian province, X. 469  
conquered by Alp Arslan, II. 538—
alphabet of, 549—language of, XIII.
90—annexed to Russia, XIX. 551.
 , North American state, X. 469 —
canals in, XVI. 26 ; XXI. 472—rail¬
roads, 474.
Georgian Islands, XVIII. 324.
Georgic, in poetry, X. 470.
Georgina, flower, XI. 683.
Georgium Sidus. See Uranus.
Georychus, in zoology, XIV. 135.
Geotrupes, insects, IX. 155.
Gepid«, a Gothic people, X. 470.
Gera, a city of Reuss, X. 471,
Geraniaceae, in botany, V. 103,
Gerard (Alexander), of Aberdeen, X.
471—on beauty, IV. 485, 487.
 (Dr) on the Himalaya mountains,
XI. 374.
Gerarde (John), X. 471; V. 87.
Gerasa, ruins of, XVI. 7‘45.
Gerbert, the Arabic notation introduced
into Europe by, I. 441 ; III. 541.
Gerbillon’s geographical discoveries in
Asia, III. 698.
Gerbillus, in zoology, XIV. 434.
Gerdesius on rare books, IV. 625
Gergong, city of Assam, X. 471.
Gergonne, his investigation of a problem
of Apollonius, III. 289.
Gerizzim, XI. 487—temple of, XIX. 631,
Germ of buds, III. 91.
Germa, IX. 532.
Germain-en-Laye (St), X. 472,
Germaine (Lord George), V. 419.
Germains (St) in Cornwall, X. 472.
German philosophy contrasted with that
of France, I. 186-7—censure of the
terms employed by the philosophers
of Germany, 219-20—ethical philoso¬
phy, 412, See Kant, &c.
 language, XIII. 84—value of, in
68
INDEX,
GER—GET
philosophical discussions, I. 295 —
Academy for its improvement, II. 7G
—improved by Adelung, 148—German
Bibles, IV. 617—Low and High Ger¬
man, X. 485-6.
German Empire, VIII. 693.
 theologians, their opinion of Je¬
sus Christ, XII. 562.
 stove, XX. 739.
 , in genealogy, X. 472.
Germania. See Germany.
Germanicus, X. 472 ; XIX. 401.
Germano (St), city of Naples, X. 247.
Germans (ancient), VI. 123; X. 473—
origin of chivalry among, VI. 592—
their appreciation of the female sex,
596—Roman wars with the, VII. 273 ;
XIX. 400, et seq.—human sacrifices
by, XIX. 605—slavery among, XIX.
605 ; XX. 383.
— (modern), X. 485-6—their intel¬
lectual character, IV. 164—contrasted
with the French, VIII. 23G—character
of the Austrians, IV. 236.
Germantown, in Pennsylvania, X. 472.
Germany, X. 473—history of, ib—sta¬
tistics, 482; IX. 419—anabaptists in,
II. 679—swarms of ants, III. 243 —
pointed architecture, 421, 422—influ¬
ence of the Italian school of architec¬
ture, 427—army of the Germanic
Confederation, 611—canals of the Bal¬
tic, IV. 331—botanists, V. 79—Ger¬
manic League, 438—concubinage in,
VII. 197—copyright, 317—publica¬
tion of books, 320—cotton-manufac¬
ture, 419—its state at the time of the
Crusades, 489—drama, VIII. 177 —
trade with England, 779 — classical
learning, IX. 361—fairs, 477-French
invasions of, X. 101, et se?.—French
trade with, 189—glass-making in, 569
—persecution of the Jews in, XII.
579, 583—libraries, X. 487 ; XIII.
311—variation of the needle, 736—
medical jurisprudence, XIV. 490, 491,
492—mines, XV. 250, et seq. ; X.
485—history of money, XV. 400-
newspapers, XVI. 173—birds, 550—
school of painting, 721, 723—poetry,
XVIII. 166—prisons, 584—Commer¬
cial League, 686, 694—the Reforma¬
tion in, XIX. 78—roads, 299—reli¬
gion, 315—romance, 329, 356—in¬
vaded by the Romans, 400, et seq.—
literature, 680; X. 486, 596—sculp¬
ture, XX. 10—wars of Gustavus
Adolphus in, XXI. 17—weights and
measures of, 853—wool imported from,
923. 924—map of, X. Plates 264 and
265. See German, Germans.
Germen, in botany, X. 490; V. 45.
Germination of seeds, X. 490 ; HI. 76 ;
XXI. 567.
Geron, insect, IX. 267.
Gerona, Spanish city, X. 490.
Gerontes, Spartan judges, X. 490.
Gerrald (Joseph), XIII. 21.
Gerris, insect, IX. 198.
Gers, in France, X. 490.
Gerson (John), doctrines of, I. 310.
Gersten on dew, VII. 749.
Gertokii, town in Thibet, X. 491. I
Gerund, in grammar, X. 491.
Gervaise of Tilbury, historian, X. 491.
Gesa, German city, X. 491.
Gesner (Conrad), X. 491—on botany,
V. 71—on animals, XIV. 76—on or¬
nithology, XVI. 545.
• (Solomon), X. 493—character
of his poetry, XVIII. 167.
Gesneriacene, in botany, V. 117.
Gessler, XXI. 43.
Gestation, XVII. 691—period of, IV.
434, n.—of different animals, III. 169.
Gesture, X. 494—language of gestures.
VII. 648, 651.
Geta, XIX. 410—proscription of his
name by Caracalla, VIII. 534, n. 8.
Get as, X. 494, 618 ; XVII. 418.
Geterino, XL 269.
Gethin (Lady Grace), X. 494.
Gethsemane, X. 495.
GEV—GIF
Gevosbewy, island, XIX. 590.
Geysers, XII. 146 ; XVII. 528.
Gez, IX. 207.
Ghaleb, III. 344.
Guassa, city of Bootan, X. 495.
GuAUTS, X. 495 ; XI. 376.
Gheelan, X. 496.
Ghengis Khan. See Genghis.
Ghent, X. 496—political disturbances
there in 1579, XVI. 108.
Ghep, or Gheep, X. 496.
Gherad-el-bahir, fish, XII. 174.
Ghergong, III. 707.
Gheriah, in Hindustan, X. 496.
Gheroud, Hindu town, X. 496.
Ghetaldus, geometer, X. 429.
Ghibei.ines, X. 515 ; XII. 470.
Ghiberti (Lorenzo), sculptor, XX. 8.
Ghiddilow, town in Bengal, X. 496.
Ghiddore, in Bengal, X. 496.
Giiilan, Persian province, X. 496.
Ghirlandaio (Domenicho), XVI. 709.
Ghizni, X. 497—empire of, III. 687.
Ghoober, XI. 710.
Ghoorbund, X. 498.
Ghoorcah, X. 615.
Ghoraghaut, X. 497, 498.
Ghore, or Ghour, X. 498.
Ghosegong, town of Bengal, X. 498.
GnoNFODE, Arabian sea-port, X. 498.
Ghosts, X. 498; III. 294. See Daemon.
Ghurka. See Aurungabad.
Ghyseabad, Hindu town, X. 498.
Giagh, in chronology, X. 498.
Giambeili, XVI. 110, 113.
Giannone (Peter), X. 498.
Giant, X. 499.
Giant’s Causeway, in Ireland, X. 500 ;
III. 274 ; XII. 393.
Giaours, X. 281.
Giaritchas-Isles, X. 502.
Giaveno, Italian city, X. 502.
Gibbet, X. 502.
Gibbon (Edward), X. 502—his estimate
of the talents of Crousaz, and account
of his own studies in 1775, I. 106—
his propensity to be indecent in his
writings, 154—on the works of St
Ambrose, II. 602—his unjust censure
v of Dionysius of Halicarnassus, III.
264—his style, ib.—converted to Po¬
pery by perusing Bossuet, V. 25—on
the secondary causes of the propaga¬
tion of Christianity, VI. 624—Lord
Hailes’s Answer to, VII. 603, 604—
on the future safety of civilized men
from barbarians, VIII. 686—his me¬
rits as a historian, XI. 497,498—cha¬
racter of W. Law by, XIII. 152 ; of
Leibnitz, 207—on the destruction of
the Alexandrian library, 287, n.—on
Ossian, XVI. 658—on the history of
the Jews, 753 —on the crusaders,
759—on ancient pantomimes, XVII.
2 — on hereditary monarchy, XXI.
480—Whitaker’s review of his Roman
History, 871.
 (Capt.), voyages of, XVIII. 218.
Gibbons, in zoology, XIV. 91.
Gibbous, X. 515.
Gibbs (James), his style of architecture,
III. 429.
Gibby, island, X. 374.
Gibel-el-Birkel, temple of, XVI. 296.
Gibelines, X. 515 ; XII. 470.
Gibeon, in Palestine, X. 515.
Giblets, X. 515.
Gibraltar, X. 515—taken by the Bri¬
tish in 1704, V. 369—attacked by the
Spaniards in 1705, XIII. 157—siege
of, in 1780, III. 476 ; V. 414, 422 ;
VIII. 672—weights and measures of,
XXL 853.
 (Straits of), XVII. 517, 520-
currents in, IX. 427.
Gibson (Richard), painter, X. 516.
 (Dr Edmund), X. 516.
Gideon, son of Joash, X. 516.
Gieseckg on aurora borealis, IV. 201.
Gieseckite, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Giessen, German city, X. 516.
Gifford (William), X. 517-his censure
of Drummond of Hawthornden, VIII.
GIF—GIZ
211—his edition of the works of Mas¬
singer, XIV. 311.
Gift, X. 518—New Year’s, ib.
Gig-horse, XI. 595.
Gigg, Gigga, or Jig, X. 518.
Giglewick, in Yorkshire, X. 518—well
of, XVII. 529.
Gijon, X. 518; IV. 112.
Gilbert (Dr William), X. 518—on elec¬
tricity, VIII. 565 ; I. 544—on magne¬
tism, 454, 625 ; XIII. 687, 750 ; XIV.
2; XVII. 572.
 (Sir Humphrey), X. 518 ; XVI.
162—exploratory voyage of, to North
America, XVIII. 217.
Gilbertines, religious order, X. 519.
Gilbertus Anglicanus, XX. 827.
Gilchrist (Dr Ebcnezer), X. 519.
Gild, or Guild, XI. 28.
Gildas, British historian, X. 519.
Gilder and carver, V. 692.
Gilding, X. 519 ; V. 692—of porcelain,
XVIII. 436—voltaic, XXI. 683—gilt
wire, 904.
Gilead, X. 522—balm of, IV. 321.
Gilgal, III. 413.
Gilibanta, island, X. 522.
Gill (Dr John), X. 522—on divinity,
XXI. 211, et seq.
 , a measure, X. 523.
 (Lough), XX. 392.
 , in flax-spinning, XX. 538.
Gillespie’s Hospital, a charitable institu¬
tion in Edinburgh, VIII. 425.
Gillieseie, in botany, V. 134.
Gillingham, X. 523.
Gills of fishes, XII. 153,161—temporary',
of tadpoles, III. 40.
Gilly Sinde, river, X. 523.
Gilmerton, near Edinburgh, limestone
quarry at, VIII. 429.
Gilolo, island, X. 523.
Gilot on gunpowder, XI. 86.
Gilpin (Bernard), X. 524.
 (Mr), on Hogarth, XI. 505.
Gilt-head, fish, XII. 177.
Gin, X. 381—manufacture of, VIII. 51.
Ginckel (General) his Irish campaign,
V. 364.
Gingee, in the Carnatic, X. 525.
Gingerah, island, X. 525.
Gingerbread, baking of, IV. 300.
Ginkgo tree, XVII. 790.
Gioia (Flavio), X. 525.
Giordano (Luca), painter, XVI. 720.
Giorgione, or Giorgio Barbarelli, X.
528 ; III. 648 ; XVI. 717.
Giotto, painter, XVI. 708, 717.
Giovanni di Bologna, XX. 8.
Gippen river navigation, XVI. 13.
Gipsies. See Gypsies.
Giraffe, XIV. 156, 161 ; II. 227 ; XVII.
709 —erectile arrangement in its
tongue, III. 27.
Girald, Barry, or Giraldus Cambren-
sis, IV. 410.
Giraldi (Lilio Gregorio), X. 528.
Girar, fortress of Hindustan, X. 528.
Girard (Albert), X. 429—his discoveries
in algebra, I. 443, 592 ; II. 423—his
character, I. 592—onMiydrodynamics,
XII. 5, 76.
Girasol, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Girders, in architecture, X. 528; V. 685.
Girdle, X. 528—Maiden’s, ib.
Girge, VIII. 544.
Girgenti, X. 528 ; II. 356 ; XV. 702.
Gironde, in France, X. 529.
Girondists, X. 71, et seq,
Girons (St), in France, X. 528.
Girout, Hindu town, X. 529.
Girshe, temple of, XVI. 296.
Gisborough, in Yorkshire, X. 529.
Cisco, VI. 193.
Giseke on botany, V. 79—his notes on
Linnaeus’s lectures, 89.
Gitona, insect, IX. 291.
Gittith, X. 529.
Giurgewo, Turkish city, X. 529.
Givors, canal of, XVI. 5.
Gizeh, VIII. 519.
Gizzard of birds, III. 36; XVII. 711 
of insects, IX. 85.
GLA—GLE
Glaciers, X. 529 ; II. 560—not found
among the Andes, III. 117.
Glacis, X. 530 ; IX. 773.
Gladbach, Prussian town, X. 530.
Gladiators, X. 530 ; II. 668—insur¬
rection of Roman, XIX. 394—statue
of Dying Gladiator, VIII. PI. 195.
Gladstones’s reaping-machine, II. 270.
Glamorganshire in Wales, X. 531-
canal, XVI. 13.
Glamour, X. 533.
Glance, in mineralogy, XV. 168.
Glance-coal, XV. 172—sp. gr. of, XII. 30
Gland, in botany, V. 49—ambiguity of
the term. III. 70.
Glands, structure and classification of
the, II. 748; XVII. 647—functions of,
ib.—lymphatic, II. 730; XVII. OSS-
lachrymal, II. 800; XVII. 668—sali¬
vary, II. 804 ; XVII. 663—mammary,
II. 827—of vegetables, III. 70—me¬
senteric, XVII. 653—prostate, 688—
poison-gland of serpents, III. 40.
Glanders, disease of horses, XXL 631.
Glanibanta, VIII. 291.
Glanvill (Joseph), X. 533—his Scepsis
Scientifica, I. 42—his illustration of
Descartes’ doctrines, 64.
Glanville on witchcraft, XXI. 907.
 (Ranulph), his work X>e Legibus
fyc. Anglice, XX. 374.
Glaphyra, VI. 126.
Glareola, birds, XVI. 628.
Glarus, in Switzerland, X. 534.
Glasgow, X. 534 —alum-works near,
II. 576—observatory of, IV. 109-*-
quantity of vapour in the air at, IV.
137—canal to Johnstone, 260 ; XVI.
13—statistics of cotton-mills, VII.
404, 409—cotton-manufacture, 407,
et seq. — Mr Harley’s dairy, 590-
dredging of the Clyde, VIII. 193,197
—turkey-red dye-works, 316—iron¬
making, XII. 431—university library,
XIII. 303—mortality, XV. 526 —
Monkland canal, XVI. 16—university,
XIX. 765 ; XXI. 511—water-works,
819. See Clyde.
Glass, X..562—anaclastic glasses, II.
680—its vast utility to science, III.
185—annealing of, 196—ancient ma¬
nufactures in, 261—burning glasses,
V. 725 ; XI. 195—engraving on, X.
581—musical glasses, XI. 149—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 30—analogy be¬
tween magnets and unannealed, XIII.
706—found at Pompeii, XVIII. 345—
pulse-glass, XX. 576—alternations of
attraction and repulsion observable in
particles of, 753—measurement with
glass rods: in the trigonometrical sur¬
vey, XX. 352. See Barometer, Glaz¬
ing, Lens, Mirror, Telescope.
Glass-blowers, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Glass-Manufacture, X. 566—of Eng-
land, VIII. 778 ; Ireland, XII. 405;
Petersburg, XVII. 318—glass-blower’s
bellows, IV. 714 — water-pressure
blowpipe, 715—use of brass in colour¬
ing glass, V. 186—glass-cutting, X.
578—'Current in furnaces, XVIII. 129.
Glass (Mr), his opinions concerning the
primitive church, XII. 262.
Glassites, XIX. 638.
Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, X.581
—navigation, XVI. 13.
Glatz, Prussian city, X. 581,
Glauber (John Rodolph), X. 581.
Glauber salt; in mineralogy, XV. 138.
Glauberite, XV. 139—sp. gr.of XII. 30.
Glaucha, Saxon city, X. 582.
Glaucina, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Glaucoma, X. 582.
Glaucopis, insect, IX. 244.
 , bird, XVI. 585.
Glaucus, X. 582.
Glazier, X. 582—glazier’s work, k)
building, V. 694.
Glazing calender, VI. 19.
Glazing of earthen-ware, X. 582—of
windows, 574; V. 694—of porcelain,
XVIII. 430, 436, 501.
Glebe, X. 583.
INDEX
69
GLE—GNO
Gleditsch on shoals of ants in Germany,
III. 243—on botany, V. 81.
Gleet, nasal, in animals, XXI. 629.
Glenco, massacre of, Y. 364.
Glendalagh, X. 583 ; XXI. 879, 880.
Glendower (Owen), VIII. 732.
Glenelg (Lord). See Grant (Charles).
Glenkenns Canal, XVI. 13.
Glenluce, XXI. 883.
Glen-Lynden, X. 613,
Glilla, VI. 527.
Glires, in zoology, XIV. 129.
Glisson (Francis), X. 583—his anatomi¬
cal labours, II. 699.
Globe, X. 584. See Earth.
Globe-animal, III. 186.
Globes, artificial, X. 584—for the use of
the blind, IV. 698—description and
use of the, X. 409.
Globicephalus, in zoology, XIV. 179.
Globularinea;, in botany, V. 124.
Glogac, Prussian city, X. 584.
Gloma, insect, IX. 269.
Glomach waterfall, XIX. 485.
Glomeris, insect, XV. 653.
Glomerulus, in botany, V. 41.
Glommen, river, XVI. 262.
Glokt, love of, X. 584.
Glories, colours ofj VI. 637.
Gloss, X. 585.
Glossabv, X. 585.
Glossopeiea, a fossil, X. 585.
Glossophaga, in zoology, XIV. 101.
Glottis, in man, II. 806 ; XVII. 682—
in other animals, III. 28.
Gloucesteb, X. 585—siege of, in 1643,
V. 324—ship-canal, XVI. 13—canal
to Hereford, 14.
 in the U. S., X. 585; XIV. 305.
Gloucestershire, X. 585—cheese, VII.
561—woollen-manufacture, XXI. 928
—wages of woollen-manufacturers, 9 36.
Glove, X. 588—glove-trade ofDngland,
VIII. 777.
Glover (Richard), X. 588—character
of his poetry, XVIII. 173.
Glow-worm, IX. 141; XIII. 338.
Glucina, VI. 399—salts of, 447.
Glueinum, VI. 399.
Gluck (Chevalier Christopher), X. 589
—his imitative music, XV. 641.
Gluckstadt, German city, X. 591.
Glue, X. 591; VI. 502—obtained from
skins, II. 750—its use in joinery, V.
690 ; XII. 612. See Gluten.
Gluma, III. 96.
Glnmellss, in botany, V. 40.
Glumes, in botany, V. 40.
Glutseus maximus in brutes, III. 19.
Gluten (animal), XVII. 624.
 (vegetable), IV. 298 ; VI. 478;
VIII. 19—a constituent of wheat-
flour, I\, 297—its nutritious power,
VIII. 19.
Gluts, cause of, XVIII. 306.
Glutton, in zoology, XIV. 108.
Gluttont, X. 591. See Voracity.
Glycera, worm, XI. 220. »
Glycerius, XIX. 423.
Glyeimeris, in eonchology, XV. 341.
Glycerine, VI. 474.
Glyphisodon, fish, XII. 176.
Gmelin (John George), botanist, X. 591.
— - (Samuel T.), X. 591—his classi¬
fication of animals, III. 170 —on
fishes, XII. 152—on the varieties of
the human species, XIV. 199-on na¬
tural history, XVI. 549.
Gmelinite, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Ghund, in Wurtemberg, X. 592.
Gnat, IX. 258—prevention of bites of,
XII. 293.
Guathium, insect, IX. 170.
Gnatia, VIII. 457.
Gnawers, in zoology, XIV. 129. See
Rodentia.
Gneiss, in geology, XV. 189—metals
found in, 277.
Cneskn, circle in Prussia, X. 592.
Gnoma, insect, IX. 179.
Gnomes, imaginary beings, X. 592.
Gnomon, in dialling, X. 592, 392.
Gnomonics, VII. 757.
GNO—GOE
Gnoo, animal, XIV. 163 ; II. 227.
Gnoriste, insect, IX. 262.
Gnostics, X. 592—their opinions of a
hierarchy of angels, III. 297.
Gnu, in zoology, XIV. 163; II. 227.
Goa, X. 593—arrack of, III. 627—lib¬
rary at, XIII. 318—weights and mea¬
sures of, XXI. 853—de la Goa Bay,
II. 233.
Goach, in Celebes, X. 594.
Goagnazes, V. 188, 189.
Goahautee, III. 707.
Goalparah, Hindu town, X. 594.
Goand, in Hindustan, X. 594.
Goands, IV. 730 ; XI. 35.
Goat, XI\. 163 ; II. 340—of America,
II. 653 ; Cashmere, VI. 213; XI.
382 ; Tibet, XXI. 256—milk of, VI.
499 ; XV. 76.
 Island, X. 594.
Goatfield, V. 751.
Goatsucker, bird, XVI. 578.
Goban, island and town, X. 594.
Gobelin (Giles), X. 594.
Gobies, fish, XII. 193.
Gobiesox, fish, XII. 221.
Gobingunge, in Bengal, X. 594.
Gobio, fish, XII. 198—'angling for, III.
147.
Gobioid®, in ichthyology, XII. 192.
Gobioides, fishes, XII. 193.
Gobius, fish, XII. 193.
Goblet, or Gobelet, X. 594.
Gobrias, XXI. 196.
Gocauk, Hindu town, X. 594.
Gocklans, XXI. 84.
God, X. 594—Descartes’ argument for
the existence of, I. 59—Clarke’s and
Newton’s reasonings, 140-1 ; VI. 729
—our idea of, associated with those of
infinite space and endless duration, I.
141—impossibility of finding proper
language to describe the nature and
attributes of, 147—Epicurean doc¬
trine that God concerns not himself
with the affairs of the -world or its
inhabitants, III. 176, n. 184—views
of the ancients respecting, 504—
views of the Athenians, IV. 163,169;
Pythagoras, XIV. 679 ; Plato, XVIII.
30, 33, 37, 39,40—blasphemy against,
IV. 675—Christian view of, VI. 622-
being and attributes of, XIV. 692 ;
NV. 478 ; XXI. 204, 208—duty to,
210 ; XV. 477-8—revealed by the uni¬
verse, XVII. 561, 575, 588—prayer
to, XVIII. 504—source of belief in
the existence of, 330—Socrates on
the evidence of his existence and at¬
tributes derived from final causes,
XX. 469—superstitious notions con¬
cerning, 811—unity of, XXI. 204-
Trinity, 205—manifestation of, in the
works of creation and providence,
206. See Atheism, Devotion, Poly¬
theism, Providence, Trinity.
Gods and goddesses, how represented on
Greek and Roman medals, XIV. 484.
Godalming, in Surrey, X. 595.
Godavert, river, X. 595.
Goddard (Jonathan), X. 595.
Goddess, X. 595.
Godefroy. See Gothofred.
Goderich (Lord), his brief administra¬
tion, V. 570.
 , in Canada, VI. 57.
Godfathers and godmothers, X. 595.
Godfrey, murder of, V. 348.
  of Bouillon, a Crusader, VII.
485; X. 595; XVI. 755-6.
Godmanchester, town, X. 595.
Godoy (Don Manuel), X. 149 ; XX. 505.
Godstone, town in Surrey, X. 595.
Godwin (Francis), X. 595.
 (Earl), VIII. 707.
 (William), his novels, XIX. 345
—on the royal prerogative of pardon,
XVII. 68.
  lights, XIII. 493.
Godwit, bird, XVI. 623.
Goelwarah, in Hindustan, X. 596.
Goes (Pedro de), V. 189.
Goest, Prussian city, X. 596.
GOE—GOM
Goethe (John Wolfgang von), X. 596’
486—his plays, VIII. 177—poetry’
XVIII. 167—novels, XIX. 358.
Gog and Magog, X. 603.
Goggrah, Hindu river, X. 604.
Gogo, Hindu sea-port, X. 604.
Goguet (Antoine-Yves), X. 604—on the
origin of writing, II. 540—on castes,
VI. 220.
Gohud, Hindu town, X. 604.
Goiana, XVII. 237.
Golconda, in Hindustan, X. 604—dia¬
monds of, VIII. 3.
Gold, X. 605-—-in chemistry, VI. 420—
in mineralogy, XV. 165—assaying of,
III. 709—carat, VI. 132—transmuta¬
tion of the baser metals into, 344—
sterling gold of Britain, 421—salts of
peroxide of, 452—coinage, VII. 35—
recoinage in 1774, 38 —routine of
coinage at the mint, 44—supply of,
in early ages, 159—effect of its in¬
crease on productive industry, ib.—
recent decrease in the supply of, 162—
its value in the early part of last cen-
tury, 337—painting in enamel on,
VIII. 693—specific gravity of, XII.
30—gold coins, XIV. 470, 476 ; XV.
384, et seq.—debasement of, XIV. 496
- its poisonous quality, 502—why more
valuable than silver, XVIII. 289—
cohesion of, XX. 756. See Gilding,
Gold-mines, Gold-wire, &c.
Gold-beaters, IV. 474.
Gold Coast, X. 605 ; XI. 29.
Gold-colour, dyeing of, VIII, 342.
Gold-coloured varnish, XXI. 561.
Gold-leaf, X. 605. See Gilding.
Gold-mines, XV. 252—of America, II.
646 ; XV. 264—Ashantee, III. 669—
Assam, 706—Ava, IV. 241 —Bam-
bouk, 338—Bolivia, 748—Brazil, V.
192, 199, 207 ; XII. 587 ; XV. 109;
XVII. 160—Bukhara, V. 696—Cele¬
bes, VI. 270—Chili, 529, 534—Europe,
IX. 409—Hindustan, XI. 384—Hun¬
gary, IV. 230—Ireland, XII. 394-
Japan, 512—Jaragua, XVII. 160—
Mexico, XIV. 802 ; XV. 260—Peru,
XVII. 305—Russia, XIX. 578, 587—
Siberia, XX. 327—Sumatra, 804—
Thrace, XV. 242—Tibet, XXI. 256—
Transylvania, V. 9—United States of
America, XXL 454—Venezuela, 592
Virginia, 658—What advantage ac¬
crues to a country from colonies pos¬
sessing gold-mines ? VII. 122.
Gold Plates, for enamelling, X. 605.
 (Shell), X. 605.
 Size, X. 605.
 Thread, X. 605.
• Wire, X. 605 ; XXI. 947—gilt
wire, ib.
Goldap, in Prussia, X. 605.
Goldberg, in Prussia, X. 605.
Golden, X. 605—Calf, ib.—Fleece, ib.—
Number,ib.; VI. 9, 12—Rule, X. 605.
Goldfinch, XVI. 581.
Goldoni (Charles), X. 605—his come¬
dies, VIII. 158.
Goldsmith, X. 606.
—  (Oliver), X. 606—his comedies,
VIII. 176—birthplace, XIII. 557—
poetry, XVIII. 172—Vicar of Wake¬
field, XIX. 340.
Golf, Scotch game, X. 608.
Goliathides, insects, IX. 161.
Goliathus, insect, IX. 161.
Golius (James), X. 608—some of the
works of Apollonius brought from
the East by, III. 288.
Goltzius (Henry), engraver and paint¬
er, X. 609.
Gomarists, III. 577 ; XI. 521.
Gombroon, X. 609 ; V. 706.
Gomer, XVII. 474 — descendants of.
VI. 275.
Gomersall, in Yorkshire, X. 609.
Gomez (General), XX. 513.
  (Estevan), his voyage of dis¬
covery, XVIII.-216.
Gomor, in Hungary, X. 609.
Gomorrah, X. 609.
GOM—GOR
Gompertz on the value of lifc-contim
gencies, III. 201.
Gomphocerus, insect, IX. 194.
Gouml, river, II. 212.
Gondar, X. 609; II. 231-Bruce’s resi¬
dence in, 57.
Gondi. See Retz (Cardinal de).
Gondola, X. 609.
Gonds, XI. 397.
Gong, XV. 617.
Gongora, poetry of, XVIII. 163.
Gongylus, a species of bud, HI. 90.
Gonia, insect, IX. 282.
Gonieh, Turkish town, X. 609.
Goniometry, X. 610—the name under
which Euler’s arithmetic of series is
cultivated in Germany, 1, 597.
Gonium, genus of animalcules, III. 188.
Gonong Apee, X. 610; IV. 340.
Gonong Telloo, in Celebes, X. 610.
Gonoplax angulata, VII. 501.
Gonorhynchus, fish, XII. 199.
Gonorrhcea, X, 610.
Gontran, X. 4.
Gonzago, Brazilian poet, V. 205.
Gonzalvo, voyage of, IV. 211.
Goocunauth, X. 610.
Good, X. 610 ; XV. 466 ; XX. 464-
chief, or summum bonum, III. 519.
■ (John Mason) on origin of name
cf Macaronic poetry, VIII. 273, n. 3.
Good’s Island, X. 610.
Good Fortune, island, X. 610.
Good-Friday, X. 610.
Good Hope (Cape of), X. 610; V. 76;
II. 233—ant-hills at, III. 241—dis¬
turbances at, in 1825, V. 562—La
Caille’s astronomical observations at,
777—discovery of, VII. 159 ; X. 307;
XVIII. 465 — emigration to, VIII.
689—taken by the British, X. 104 
variation of the needle at, XIII. 738
—weights and measures of, XXI. 852
—wool imported from, 924.
Good-Hope Island, X. 614.
Goodeniero, in botany, V. 117.
Goodenovise, in botany, V. 117.
Goodlet’s method of evaporating by
steam, XX. 607.
GoonouR, Hindu town, X. 614.
Goodwin lights, XIII. 493.
Googe on agriculture, II. 256.
Goohaut, town in Cabul, X. 614.
Goole, in Yorkshire, X. 614.
Goolgunge, Hindu town, X. 614.
Goolpussra, in Nepaul, X. 614.
Goomsur, Hindu town X. 614.
Goomty, Hindu river, X. 614.
Goondipooram, X. 614.
Goonee, Hindu river, X. 614.
Goorackpoor, in Hindustan, X. 615.
Goosander, bird, XVI. 639.
Goose, XVI. 636—mode of enlarging it#
liver, IX. 724.
Gooseberry, culture of, XI. 651.
Goose-neck, X. 615.
Goose-skin, II. 750.
Goose-wing, X. 615.
Gooty, in Hindustan, X. 615.
Gopher wood, III. 567.
Goppingen, in Wurtemberg, X. 615.
Goragaut, Hindu town, X. 615.
Goram Isle, X. 615.
Gorcah, in Hindustan, X. 615.
Gorcum, city of Holland, X. 615.
Gordian knot, X. 615; XIII. 631.
Gordianus, Roman senator, X. 615.
 , Roman emperor, X. 616—history
of the reign of, XIX. 411.
Gordius, VI. 126—worm, XI. 226.
Gordon (Adam), VI. 606.
 (Alexander), X. 616—on hiero¬
glyphics, XI. 302.
 (Lord Geo.), his riots, V. 412.
 (Professor) of Erfurt, on electri¬
city, VIII. 568.
 (Dr John), his System of Ana¬
tomy, II. 704—on the lymphatics,
7 29—his controversy with Dr Spurz-
heim, XX. 551.
(Thomas), X. 616—his transla¬
tion of Tacitus, XXI. 69.
Gore, in heraldry, X. 616.
70
INDEX
GOR—GOV
Goree, XII. 682 ; XX. 94.
Gorfou, bird, XVI. 631.
Gokge, X. 616.
Gorged, X. 616.
Gorget, in dress, X. 616,
Gorgias of Leontium, IV. 156.
Gordons, in mythology, X. 616.
Goring (Dr), his microscopes, XV. 38,
42, 46—on illumination of microsco¬
pic objects, 52—on test-objects, 54.
Gorl^us (Abraham), X. 617.
Gorleston, town in Suffolk, X. 617.
Goreitz, Prussian city, X. 617.
Goro, XVII. 4.
Gorz, Austrian city, X. 617.
Gosberton, in Lincolnshire, X. 617.
Goshen, in Egypt, X. 617.
Goslar, city of Hanover, X. 617.
Gospel, X. 617.
Gosport, in Hampshire, X. 617—auro¬
ra borealis seen at, IV. 195.
Gossamer, X. 617.
Gosselin (Mens.), on the Periplus of-
Hanno, II. 219 ; X. 389—on geogra¬
phy, 401.
Goteborg, or Gottenburg, X. 617.
Gotha, in Germany, X. 617 ; XIX. 665
—inland navigation, XVI. 4.
Gothard, Swiss mountain, X. 618.
Gotheborg. See Gottenburg.
Gothelf, river, XXI. 388-9.
Gothic, X. 618—alphabet, II. 549—
Bibles, IV. 616 ; XIX. 790—face in
Europe, IX. 410. See Goths.
— architecture, III. 419, 423, 430,
453, 474—more scientific than Gre¬
cian, 380—arches, 387 ; XIV. 298—
spires. III. 388—rational nature of,
XIX. 441—masonry, XIV. 286.
  language, XIII. 82 5 XVII. 417
—languages derived from it, 422.
Gothofred (Denis), X. 618—his edition
of, and commentary on, the Theodo-
sian Code, VI. 715.
Goths, X. 618; V. 295; VI. 274—de¬
feated by Constantine, VII. 271—
their wars with the Romans, 278, et
seq.—their conquest of Rome, X. 478 ;
XIX. 421; of Italy, XII. 464—state
of Italian art under them, XVI. 707
—-their origin, XVII. 418—their in¬
vasions of the Roman empire, XIX.
411, et seq.—their kingdom in Spain,
XX. 291. See Gothic.
GotTenbcrg, in Sweden, X. 617, 621—
canal to Stockholm, IV. 331.
Gottingen, in Hanover, X. 621—lib¬
rary at, XIII. 313.
Gottland, X. 621; IV. 328.
Gottsched, XIX. 681.
Gouan on botany, V. 87—on fishes, XII.
152.
Gouda, in the Netherlands, X. 621.
Goudhurst, town in Kent, X. 622.
Gougane Barra, lake, VII. 329.
Goulart (Simon), X. 622.
Goulburn (Mr), his act for the suppi’es-
sion of the Catholic Association in
Ireland, V. 563.
Gould (John), on ants, III. 239, 242—
on birds, XVI. 552, 644.
Goulianoff on hieroglyphics, XI. 362.
Goura, bird, XVI. 614.
Gourd, its stem. III. 47, 81—evolution,
79—internal structure, 80—root, 88
—ovaria, V. 45, n.—culture, XI. 666.
Gournay (Vincent de), VIII. 398—on
political economy, XVIII. 268.
Gout, Barthez on, IV. 421—anomalous
forms of, XVII. 486.
Govea (Andrew), V. 628, 629.
Government, X. 622—monarchy im¬
proved in modern times, I. 24—Aris¬
totle on, III. 525—governments of
Asia, 694 ; Athens, IV. 164 ; Aus¬
tria, 236; England, IX. 1; France,
X. 212 — Buchanan’s work on, V.
631-2—passive obedience, 632—always
spends what it is able to extract from
the people, VII. 117—tendency of
colonial possessions to produce or
prolong misrule, 123—evils of an un¬
due expenditure by, 172—its duties
GOV—GRA
with respect to trade, 399—offences
of the press with respect to, XIII. 27 6
—Paley on, XVI. 761 — Plato on,
XVIII. 37. See Aristocracy, Demo¬
cracy, Despotism, Economists, Mo¬
narchy.
Governor of steam-engine, XX. 662.
Gower (John), X. 634 ; VI. 338—poetry
of, XVIII. 169.
Gown, X. 634.
Cowrie, carse of, VI. 179; XIX. 746.
Gowrie’s conspiracy, in Scotland, VII.
603; XIX. 743.
Goyeneche (General), IV. 756.
Gozo, XIV. 62—plague in, XVII. 777.
Graaf (Regnier de), XVII. 728—his ana¬
tomical labours, II. 699.
Grabe (John Ernest), X. 634 — his
Greek Bible, IV. 614.
Gracchus (Caius S.), X. 635 ; XIX.
390—Carthage rebuilt by, VI. .207.
—  (Tiberius Sempronius), X. 635;
XI. 478 ; XIX. 390.
Grace, X. 635—controversy of Male-
branche regarding, I. 74.
 , days of, IX/454.
Graces, in mythology, X. 636.
Gracias a Dios, in Honduras, XI. 18.
Graciosa, one of the Azores, IV. 263.
Grackle, piping, XVI. 568—bare-necked,
571—bald, 574—paradise, ib.
Graculus, bird, XVI. 568.
Gradients of railways, XIX. 17.
Grading, in architecture, III. 467.
Gr.t:vius (John George), X. 637 ; V.
717—on inscriptions, XII. 292.
Grafting, in gai-dening, X. 637; XI. 635.
Grafton (Richard), XVIII. 553.
Graham (George), X. 638—his optical
instruments. III. 748—his scapement,
VI. 772—his equation-clock, 783—his
horizontal watch-scapement, 7 91—his
discovery of the daily variation of the
needle, XIII. 688 — his pendulum,
XVII. 213.
 (General), V. 529.
  (James), Marquis of Montrose,
X. 637. See Montrose.
 (John), of Claverhouse, Viscount
Dundee, IV. 672—his military ex¬
ploits in Scotland, V. 351—his advice
to James the Second, 359—his pro¬
ceedings in Scotland in favour of that
king, 361—slain at Killiekrankie,
362 ; XII. 718.
 (Sir Richard), X. 638.
 (Dr), on Ossian, XVI. 663.
Graham’s dike, III. 272; XIX. 408.
Grain Coast, XI. 29.
 (apothecaries’), in different coun¬
tries, XXI. 849.
Grainger (James), works by, XXI. 259.
Grallaria, bird, XVI. 573.
Grallatores, birds, XVI. 614.
Grallina, bird, XVI. 572.
Gramina, X. 638.
Gramineae, in botany, V. 137.
Graminivorous animals, season of par¬
turition of, III. 169.
Grammar, X. 638—Bacon’s profound
reflections on, I. 34—characters of
abbreviations in, VI. 323 — Horne
Tooke on, XXI. 336.
Grammarian, X. 703.
Grammistes, fish, XII. 168.
Grammont, a buccaneer, V. 625.
Grampian Mountains, X. 703; XIX. 746.
Grampound,disfranchisement of, V. 553.
Grampus, in zoology, XIV. 178.
Granada, in Spain, X. 703, 705—the
Alhambra at, II. 512—Moorish king¬
dom of, XX. 494, 496, 498.
 ,in Nicaragua, X. 705 ; XVI. 201.
 (New). See Venezuela.
 , island. See Grenada.
Granadier, or Grenadier, X. 705.
Granado, or Grenade, X. 705.
Granard, town in Longford, X. 706.
Granary, X. 706—farm, II. 271.
Granate. See Granite.
Grand, X. 707 —Distress, ib.—Gusto,ib.
 Canal, in Ireland, XVI. 22.
 Junction Canal, XVI. 14.
GEA
Grand Junction Railway, XIX. 23, et seq.
 Surrey Canal, XVI. 14.
 ——- Trunk Canal, V. 289 ; VI. 509 ;
XVI. 20 ; XX. 558.
 Union Canal, XVI. 14.
Grande (Rio), XVI. 783; XIX. 244.
 Terre, XI. 12.
Grandee, X. 707.
Grandeur, X. 707.
Grand! (Abate), on the origin of the
modern copies of the Pandects, VI. 718.
Grandipalpi, insects, IX. 130.
Grange, X. 710.
  — (La). See Lagrange.
Grangemouth, XX. 733.
Granger (James), biographer, X. 710.
Grani, X. 711.
Granicus, river in Asia Minor, X. 711
—battle of, XIII. 631.
Granite, X. 711—of Aberdeenshire, II.
29; Egypt, III. 412 ; VIII. 517, 535,
n. 2 ; Brazil, V. 199—specific gravity
of, XII. 30—metals found in, XV. 277.
Granitel, X. 711—sp. gr. of, XII. 30.
Granivorous, X. 711.
Grant, in law, X. 711.
 (Commodore), IV. 247.
 ( Charles), Lord Glenelg, his corn-
bill, V. 572—his resolutions respect¬
ing the corn-trade, VII. 342.
■  (Mr), on the Gaelic language,
XVII. 416.
 (Francis), lawyer, X. 711.
Grantham, in Lincolnshire, X. 711.
  Canal, XVI. 14.
Granton pier, IX. 768.
Granulated, X. 711.
Granulation, X. 711; XVII. 128.
Granvelt, XI. 511.
Granville, French seaport, X. 711.
  (George), Lord Lansdowne, X.
711.
Grapes, X. 711 — sugar of, VI. 473;
VIII. 44—preservation of, IX. 728—
varieties of, XI. 639—culture of, 657
—of the Ionian Islands, XII. 342.
See Wine-making.
 , in veterinary science, XXI. 637.
Grape-Shot, X. 711; XI. 71.
Graphic ore, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Graphipterus, insect, IX. 113.
Graphite, in mineralogy, XV. 147.
Graphometer, X. 712.
Grapnel, or Grapling, X. 712 ; III. 105.
Grass, in botany, X. 712, 638 ; V. 137.
Grass-lands, II. 307—produce of, in
England, VIII. 766.
Grasse (La), in France, X. 712.
 (Count de), V. 407 —defeated by
Rodney, 421—his hospitable treat¬
ment in England, 422, n.
Grasser (Jacob), VII. 711.
Grasshoppers, IX. 79, 194—their coha¬
bitation with ants. III. 242—alleged
showers of, XIX. 60.
Grassias, XI. 31, 397.
Grates, for fires, X. 712.
Gratia n, Roman emperor, X. 712 ;
VII. 279—reign of, XIX. 418.
 , Benedictine monk, X. 712—his
Decretum, IV. 334; VI. 92 ; XXI. 488.
Gratings in a ship, X. 712.
Gratitude, X. 712—duty of, XV. 480.
Gratius (Faliscus), Roman poet, X. 712.
Grattan (Henry), X. 712 ; XII. 383—
his opposition to the union of Britain
and Ireland, V. 493—his motions for
Catholic emancipation, 545-6.
Gratz, in Austria, X. 714.
Grauculus, bird, XVI. 568.
Graudenz, Prussian city, X. 714.
Graunt (John), X. 714—on bills of
mortality, XV. 513.
Grave, X. 715.
Gravel (urinary), VI. 501 ; XVII. 479—
Magendie’s theory of, VIII. 24—in
the domestic animals, XXI. 628—cure
of, XX. 841. See Lithotomy.
Gravel-walks, XI. 678.
Graver, X. 715 ; IX. 47.
Graves (Mr), on logarithms, XIII. 430.
 (Dr), on lead-colic, XVII. 488.
Gravesande (William Jacob), X. 715.
GRA—GEE
Gravesend, town in Kent, X. 715.
Gravesende (Mr), on the pressure of
fluids, XII. 76.
Gravina (John Vincent), X. 715.
—  -, city of Naples, X. 717.
Graving-dock, VIII. 76.
Gravitation, X. 717 ; XVII. 438, 566
—Newton’s discovery of, I. 554 ; IV.
174—the cause of acceleration of fall¬
ing bodies, II. 81—its action in the
planetary system, III. 749 ; IV. 49—
Hooke on, XI. 555—known only as a
fact, XVII. 565. See Dynamics, Gra¬
vity.
Gravity, use of pendulum in measuring
intensity of, XVII. 188,198—its effect
on projectiles, XVIII. 641.
 (centre of), in mechanics, XIV.
349, 350, 372, 442.
 (specific), X. 717 ; XII. 19-
Table of, 26.
 numbered among the virtues by
the Italians, II. 678.
Gray colour, X. 717—dyeing of, VIII.
337—varieties of, XV. 126-7.
 (J. E.), quoted on polypes, XXL
1022,1023.
 (Mr), his estimate of the merits
of Rousseau’s Emile, I. 184.
 (Major), his account of Kajaaga,
in Western Africa, XII. 661.
 (Stephen), on electricity, I. 544,
617 ; VIII. 566, 603—on the micro¬
scope, XV. 31, 37.
 (Thomas), X. 717—fond of alli¬
teration, II. 527 — on a stanza of
Beattie’s Minstrel, IV. 478, n.—poetry
of, XVIII. 173.
  (Lady Jane). See Grey.
Gray’s Inn, XII. 282; XIII. 527.
Grayling, fish, XII. 210—angling for,
III. 135, n. 144.
Grazalema, Spanish city, X. 719.
Grease for axles, XIV. 413, 417, 443.
 , a disease of horses, XXI. 637.
Great, X. 719; VIII. 10.
 Primer type, XXI. 435.
y Western Railway, XIX. 51.
Greaves (John), mathematician, X. 719
—on the denarius, XV. 397.
Grebe, bird, XVI. 629.
Greece, X. 720—history of, XI. 471—
works on the architectural remains
of, III. 430—Greek structures, 434—
Did the Romans get the laws of the
twelve tables from ? VI. 709—com¬
merce of, VII. 156—mines, 159; XV.
242—height of mountains, XVII. 506
—subterranean streams, 526. See the
Chronological Table, VI. 665; also
Greeks, Attica, Athens, &c.
 (modern), hives of, III. 284—
revolution in, X. 473—statistical view
of. 752 — weights and measures of,
XXI. 853—map of, X. PI. 272. See
Greeks (modern).
Greek architecture, III. 414, 422, 434 ;
XIX. 440—remains of, III. 258, et'seq.
430, 434—much of it borrowed from
the East, 378—its introduction and
progress in Britain, 430—mouldings
and ornaments of, 441—beauty of, IV.
496—baths, 441—theatres. III. 416,
437—temples, 435—Did the Greeks
know the arch ? III. 379 ; V. 269.
  Church, X. 738—in Russia,
XIX. 580.
 Fire, IX. 586.
 Language, XIII. 64. et-seq.,
XVII. 393—its affinities, XIII.^l—
its resemblance to Latin, XVII. 409
—different genius of the two languages,
410—introduction of study of, into
England, IX. 41—partiality of the
Greeks to, XVII. 405—Erasmus and
Sir Thomas Smith on its pronuncia
tion, IX. 557; XX. 413-study of, at
Oxford, XXI. 494—ablative case, IL
38—accents, 84—bibles, IV. 614; XIX.
786, 789—editions of the classics, IV.
626—moods and tenses, X. 691—dia¬
lects, XVII. 404—modern Greek, X.
741 ; XVII. 407.
INDEX,
71
GilE
Greeks (ancient), their acclamations, II.
88—abortion among the, 39—adoption,
160—punishment of adultery, 166—
algebra unknown to, 420—their man¬
ner of writing, 545—alphabet, 546 ;
XVII. 396—knowledge of anatomy,
II. 685, et seg1. j XVII. 724—mytho¬
logy, III. 256 ; IV. 168; XV.‘682;
XVIII. 336, 340—cultivated the do¬
mestic affections, III. 261—their de¬
monology, 296 —theatres, 416, 437 ;
VIII. 145—numerals, III. 535; VI.
323 ; XVII. 398 — mode of calcula¬
tion, II. 5; III. 537 —armies, 584—
statues, 645, 647 ; XX. 4, 10—as¬
tronomy, III. 727—balance of power
among the, IV. 310—baths, 441—
bells, 545—derived many of their me¬
taphysical speculations from India, V.
180—their beer, 230—whether ac¬
quainted with the arch, 269 ; III. 379
—their burials, V. 712—burning of the
dead, 724—calendar, VI. 3, et seq., 653
—camps, 43—caps, 108—cock-fighting,
VII. 14—colonies, 112—dancing, 613
—theatrical declamation, 664—dials,
757—divorces, VIII. 71—drama, 144;
XX. 185, 447—skill in drawing, VIII.
180—dyeing, 296—indebted to Egypt
for their arts, 541, n. 2—influence of
local circumstances on their govern¬
ments, IX. 411; X. 722—exposing of
children by, IX. 468—their funeral
rites, X. 258 ; XII. 329—gardens, X.
319 — geometers, 422 — gymnastics,
XI. 94—racing, 621—hunting, 738—
customs at birth of a child, XII. 271
—inscriptions, 291—laws, XIII. 181
—libraries, 287—customs when in love,
578 —masonry, XIV. 286 —know¬
ledge of mathematics, 314-15—coins,
463, et seq.; VII. 31 ; XV. 397, w. 1—
monarchy, 381—mourning, 584—mys¬
teries, 661—oracles, XVI. 515—school
of painting, 693, 696, 728—origin,
XVII. 393—early poets, 404—par¬
tiality to their language, 405—philo¬
sophy, 431; I. 9—writers on physio¬
gnomy, XVII. 575-6—poetry, XVIII.
147—neglect of political economy, 260
—orators, XIX. 215—sacrifices, 604
—sculpture, XX. 4, 10—dresses, 6—
worship of serpents, 139—ships, 121
—shoes, 299—tombs, 324—slavery,
382—religious persecution, 447—re¬
ligion, 452—surgery, 820—measures,
XXI. 846—weights, 848. See Greek,
" (modern), X. 741—their army,
III. 615—sieges of Athens by, IV. 129
—late war with the Turks, V. 572;
VIII. 504 ; X. 743—Lord Eyron’s aid
to the, V. 759—means of ‘elevating
their character, XII. 346—their news¬
papers, XVI. 173—language, X. 741;
XVII. 407. See Greece (modern).
Green colour, X. 755 —colouring mat¬
ters, VI. 485—in crayon painting,
VII. 453—dyeing of, VIII. 333,1642
—varieties of, 333 ; XV. 126.
  (Mr), his laminated arches de¬
scribed, XX. 377.
Gkeen-Cloth, Court and Clerks of the,
X. 755.
Green-house, X. 755; XI. 686—plants,
ib —warming of, by steam, XX. 605.
Green Mountains, Vermont, XXI. 603.
Green-vitriol, XV. 138. See Iron (sul¬
phate of).
Groencastle, VIII. 133.
Greener (Wm), on guns, XX. 304. 308.
Greenheart, timber, XXI. 303.
Greenland, X. 755—early Norwegian
settlements in, II. 635—discovered by
the Icelanders, XII. 143—heights of
mountains of, XVII. 505—sea-ice of,
519—colonies in, XVIII. 215.
(Miss), her method of encaustic
painting, VIII. 698.
Greenock, Scotch town, X. 762.
Greensand formation, XV. 208.
Greenshank, bird, XVI. 625.
Greenwich, town in Kent, X. 764—
Naval Asylum of, XVI. 65.
k
GRE
Greenwich Observatory, transit instru¬
ment in, IV. 105—mural quadrants,
106—Bradley’s improvements in, V.
172.
   Hospital, X. 764 ; XVI. 64-
roof of the chapel of, VI. 169—prices
of food used in, from 1800 to 1835,
XXI. 937.
Gregarious animals, X. 765.
Gregorian Calendar, X. 765; VI. 6,
10, 13.
 reflecting telescope, XVI. 360.
Gregorius, Roman lawyer, VI. 713.
Gregors the Great, X. 765; XI. 492.
 of Nazianzen, X. 765.
 (Theodorus), X. 765.
 , bishop of Nyssa, X. 765.
 of Tours, X. 765.
 II. bishop of Rome, XIII. 466,
et seq.
 VII. (Pope), XII. 469.
 IX. (Pope), his DecretaXium Cbm-
pilatio, VI. 92—confirmed the inqui¬
sition, XII. 285.
 — XIII. (Pope), his reform of the
Calendar, VI. 6, 10.
 (David), X. 766.
  (Dr David), professor of astro¬
nomy at Oxford, X. 767 ; I. 581.
— (James), mathematician, X. 766;
XIV. 318—his work Optica Promota,
I. 513—on the reflecting telescope, II.
99 — his discovery of Rn algebraic
series, II. 497—his attack on George
Sinclair, IV. 296, n. — his burning
mirror, V. 735—on navigation, XV.
749—on optics, XVI. 360—on the
quadrature of the circle, XX. 554-5.
 — (Dr James), physician, X. 769—
on modes in grammar, 662, et seq.
—on liberty and necessity, XIV. 691.
 (Dr John), X. 767 ; VII. 534—
on the union between mind and body,
I. 224—Smellie’s Life of, XX. 403.
 — (Olinthus), his Treatise on Me¬
chanics, XIV. 355.
of St Vincent, on the quadrature
of the circle, XX. 554.
Gregory’s powder, XIX. 229.
Greiffenhagen, in Prussia, X. 771.
Greifswalde, Prussian city, X. 771—
university of, XVIII. 700.
Greisbach, in Bavaria, X. 771.
Greiz, a city of Reuss, X. 771.
Grellman on the gypsies, XI. 98.
Grenada, island, X. 771—sugar-ants
of, III. 239, 241 ; how destroyed, 244
—naval battle between the British and
French at, V. 405.
Grenade, X. 705.
Grenadier, X. 705.
Grenadines, islands, X. 772.
Grenaille, X. 772.
Grenatite, in mineralogy, XV. 159.
Grenfell on the national debt, X. 250.
Grenie (Monsieur), his improvements on
the organ, XVI. 532.
Grenier (M. de), his system of naval
tactics, XXL 765.
Grenoble, in France, X. 772.
Grenville (W. \V„ Lord), X. 772—his
administration, V. 388, 520—his alien
bill, 467—his answer to the French
ambassador, ib.; and to Bonaparte’s
letter to George the Third, 490—on
the peace of Amiens, 507, 508.
 Canal, X VI. 27.
Gresham (Sir Thomas), X. 775.
Gresley Canal, XVI. 14.
Gresset, poetry of, XVIII. 166.
Greuze, painter, XVI. 723.
Greville (Fulke), Lord Brooke, Eng¬
lish poet, X. 776.
 (Dr R. K.), his contributions to
botany, V. 86, n. 2.
Grevius. See Graovius,
Grew (Nehemiah), X. 776—on compa¬
rative anatomy, II. 700—on vegetable
anatomy, III. 42, et seq.—on the sexual
organs of plants, V. 43.
Grey colour, X. 717—dyeing of, VIII.
337—varieties of, XV. 126-7.
  (Lady Jane), X. 776 ; VII.
448; VIII. 752, 754.
GRE—GRO
Grey (George), papyrus brought from
Egypt by, II. 541.
 (Earl), a supporter of the balanc¬
ing system, IV. 313—his motions for
parliamentary reform, V. 463, 470,
580—his motion in 1795 about the
French war, 476—his opposition to
the union with Ireland, 493—motion
in 1801 for an inquiry into the state
of the nation, 498—refusal to join the
ministry in 1812, 533—his adminis¬
tration, 581—his resignation and re¬
acceptance of office, 584.
Greyhound, XL 706.
Gridiron pendulum, XVII. 214.
Grierson (Constantia), X. 777.
Griffith (Mr), on Mr Buddie’s method
of working coal, VII. 83.
Griffiths on fishes, XII. 172-3,191-2.
Griffon, or Griffin, X. 777.
 , bird, XVI. 558.
Grimaldi Francisco), painter, X. 777.
 (F. M.), on the inflexion and in¬
terference of light, I. 514 ; XVI. 361,
426, 433—on colours, 403.
Grimm (Baron de), his remarks on a
maxim of Fontenelle, I. 23—on liberty
and necessity, 150, 270—an abettor
of atheism, 181—his account of Di¬
derot, VIII. 15.
Grimma, bailiwick in Saxony, X. 777.
Grimsby (Great), in Lincoln, X. 777.
Grimshaw’s rope-machinery, XIX. 466.
Grindelwald, Swiss town, X. 777.
Grinders, teeth, in man, II. 780 in
other animals, III. 34.
Grinding, X. 777.
Grinstead (East), in Sussex, X. 778.
Gripes, X. 778—in horses, XXL 624.
Grisgris, negro superstition, X. 778.
Grison, in zoology, XIV. 108.
Grisons, Swiss canton, X. 778.
Grist, X. 779.
Gristes, fish, XII. 169.
Gristle. See Cartilage.
Grit, or Gritstone, X. 779.
Griwhee, XI. 30.
Groat and Groats, X. 779.
Grocers, X. 779.
Grodno, Russian province, X. 779.
Greenland. See Greenland.
Grogginess, or contraction of the foot,
in horses, XXL 619.
Grogram, X. 779.
Groin, X. 779.
Groining, in architecture, III. 467.
Groll, in the Netherlands, X. 779.
Gronebach, in Bavaria, X. 779.
Groningen, X. 779.
Gronovius (John Fred.), X. 779.
 (James), X. 780.
Groom, X. 780; XI. 603.
Groote Eylandt, X. 780.
Groove, X. 780.
Grose (Francis), X. 780.
Gross, X. 781—weight, ib.; III. 555.
Grossart on the modes of dissolving
caoutchouc, VI. 107.
Grossasperu, Austrian town, X. 781.
Gross-beak, Philippine, XVI. 580 — so¬
ciable, ib.—evening, 581—pine, 582.
Grosschanau, Saxon town, X. 781.
Grossenhain, in Saxony, X. 781.
Grossulare, in mineralogy, XV. 159.
Grossularieae, in botany, V. 113.
Grosswardein, in Hungary, X. 781.
Grotesque, in sculpture, &c., X. 781.
Grotius (Hugo), XL 1, 521; V. 631-2
—his work De Jure Belli et Pacis, I.
38, 84, 85, 89, 315—period when his
writings began to be generally studied,
46—his opinion of Raimond de Se-
bonde’s principles, 52 — Samuel de
Cocceii’s commentary on it, 92—his
history of the Netherlands, 417—on
the ethical principles of Carneades,
316—on baptism, IV. 352.
 (William), XI. 7.
Grotthus on electro-chemical decompo¬
sition, XXI. 678.
Grotto, or Grotta, XL 8.
 del Cani, XL 8 ; XVII. 532.
 del Serpi, in Italy, XI. 8.
GRO—GUE
Grotto (Milky), at Bethlehem, XL 8.
Ground, in painting, &c., XL 8.
Ground-angling, XI. 8.
Group, in painting, &c., XI. 8.
Groups (The), islands, XI. 8.
Grouse, pin-tailed, XVI. 611—red, ib.—-
sand, ib.—wood, ib.—heteroclyte, 612.
Grouse-shooting, XX. 315.
Grouthead, or Greathead (Robert),
bishop of Lincoln, XI. 8.
Grove, in gardening, XI. 8.
 (Henry), XL 9.
Growth of animals, XL 9 ; XVII. 582
—of plants, XI. 9 ; XXL 576.
Grub, a worm, XI. 10.
Grubber, II. 267, 349.
Grubenhagen, XI. 10.
Grubenhamm, wooden bridge construct¬
ed by, VI. 292.
Grueber’s travels in China, HI. 698.
Grunberg, XI. 10.
Gruppo, in music, XI. 10.
Grus, XL 10—bii-d, XVI. 617.
Grusia, X. 469.
Gruter, or Gruytere (Jan), XL 10 
on inscriptions, XII. 292.
Gry, a measure, XI. 11.
Gryllotalpa, insects, IX. 192.
Gryllus, insect, IX. 191; II. 229.
Gryphcea, in conehology, XV. 344,
Gua (Du), on equations, IX. 325.
Guachos of Buenos Ayres, V. 657.
Guadalaxara, in Spain, XL 11.
 , in Mexico, XL 11 ; XIV. 814.
Guadalcanal-, in Spain, XL 11.
Guadaleanar, IV. 213.
Guadaloupe, island, XI. 12.
Guadalquiver, Spanish river, XI. 12;
XX. 516.
Guadalupe, mountains, XI. 12.
Guadarrama, Spanish mountains, XI.
12 ; XX. 515—river, XI. 12.
Guadenthal, X. 613.
Guadiana, river, XX. 516; XXL 322.
 , or Durango, a city in Mexico,
VIII. 288.
Guadin, Spanish city, XL 12.
Guages of steam-boiiers, XX. 679.
Guaging, XIV. 577.
Gualior, Hindu fortress, XI. 12,
Guam, island, XL 12.
Guamanga, town in Peru, XL 13.
Guan, bird, XVI. 605.
Guanaco, IV. 747; VI. 525.
Guanas, reptiles, XIX. 144.
Guanaxuato, XL 13 ; XIV. 814.
Guanca VeliCa, in Peru, XI. 13.
Guanches, VI. 73.
Guapore, river, XIV. 326.
Guaranin, VI. 469.
Guaranis, II. 630 ; XVII. 57, 62.
Guarantee and Guaranty, XL 13.
Guard, XL 13—advanced guard, &c.,
ib., 14—yeomen of the, 14.
Guard-boat, XI. 14.
Guard-ship, XT. 14.
Guarda, Portuguese city, XI. 15.
Guardia, Spanish town, XL 15.
Guardia-Alferez, Italian town,XI. 15.
Guardian, XI. 15—of the Cinque Ports,
ib.—of the Spiritualities, ib.
Guardianship in Arabia, III. 334.
Guarini (Giovanni Battista), XI. 15,
Guarnix, Spanish town, XL 15.
Guastalla, in Italy, XL 15.
Guatimala, XI. 16 ; II. 644—revolu¬
tion in, 639—map of, XIV. PI. 356.
Guatimozin, king of Mexico, XIV. 777.
Guava, XI. 659.
Guaviare, river, XVI. 537.
Guayaquil, XL 20—trade of, XVIII.
798—river, VII. 90.
Guaycurues of Brazil, XIV. 325.
Guaymas, Mexican port, XIV. 818.
Guayra, in La Plata, XL 20.
Gubbio, Italian town, XL 20.
Guben, Prussian city, XL 20.
Gubi, Hindu town, XI. 21.
Gudarah, in Hindustan, XI. 21.
Gudgeon, fish, XII. 198—angling fbr,
III. 147.
 of a wheel, XIV. 406.
Guebres, X. 281.
72
INDEX.
GUE—GUM
Guelders, X. 877.
Guelph, Canadian town, VI. 57.
Guelphs and Ghibelines, Italian factions,
X. 515 ; XII. 470.
Guenon, in zoology, XIV. 92.
Guekande, French city, XI. 21.
Guercino, painter, IV. 367 ; XVI. 720.
Guericke (Otto), XI. 21 — on electri¬
city, VIII. 565—his invention of the
air-pump, I. 480; IV. 387; XVIII.
79—his experiments on raising water
by atmospheric pressure, XX. 622.
Guernsev, island, XI. 21.
Guerrero, XIV. 793.
Guetaria, Spanish town, XI. 21.
Guettard on the glands of plants, III. 71.
Guevei, in zoology, XIV. 162.
Gugah, Hindu town, XI. 22.
Guglielmini on the principles of hydrau¬
lics, XII. 3 ; XIX. 255.
Guharan, XVI. 517.
Guiacum, action of light on, XVI. 421.
Guiana, XI. 22—ant-hills in, III. 241-
serpents of, XX. 137—-weights and
measures of, XXI. 853—timber of Bri¬
tish Guiana, 303.
Gcibert (J. A. H., Count de), XI. 24.
Guicciardini (Francisco), XI. 25.
  (Louis), XI. 26.
Guiccioli (Countess), V. 758.
Guides in war, XI. 27.
Guidi (Alex.), poet, XI. 27.
Guido Reni, XI. 27—his style of paint¬
ing, III. 647; XVI. 720.
 di Sienna, painter, XVI. 708.
 Are tin. See Aretin.
Guidon and Guidons, XI. 27.
Guidotti, XXI. 252.
Guighano, Italian city, XL 27.
Guignan, island, XI. 27.
Guignes (Joseph De), XI. 27—on hiero¬
glyphics, 302.
Guild, XI. 28.
Guildford, town in Surrey, XI. 28.
Guildhall, London, XI. 28; XIII. 535
Guildry courts, in Scotland, XIV. 590
VIII. 418.
Guillemot, bird, XVI. 630.
Guillie (Dr), on the blind, IV. 699.
Guillim (John), XI. 28.
Guillotine, XI. 28;IV. 539; XIV. 513
Guiloche, in architecture, III. 467.
Guimaraens, XI. 29.
Guimaras, island, XI. 29.
Guinea, XI. 29—ants in. III. 241—slave
trade of, XX. 383.
  — (Gulf of), II. 234—current in
XVII. 517.
  , gold coin, XI. 30.
Guinea-fowl, XVI. 608.
Guinea-pepper, VI. 128.
Guinea-pig, XIV. 140.
Guinea-worm, XXI. 991.
Guipuzcoa, in Spain, XI. 30.
Guisborough. See Gisborough.
Guischard (Robert), VII. 285.
Guischardt on military affairs, III. 583
et seq.
Guise (Henry), of Lorrain, XI. 30.
Guislain on insanity, XIV. 584-5.
Guitar, XI. 30.
Guit-guit, bird, XVI. 589.
GujERAT,in Hindustan, XL 30; VII. 406.
Gujundergur, XI. 38.
Guldenstaedt (J. A.), XI. 33.
Guldinus on centre of gravity, XIV. 380.
Gule of August, XI. 33.
Gules, in heraldry, XI. 33 ; XL 244.
Gulf, or Gulph, XI. 33 ; X. 407.
Gulf-stream, XVII. 516, 521.
Guloundah, Hindu town, XI. 34.
Gull, XVI. 632.
Gullet, II. 814. See CEsophagus.
Gulo, in zoology, XIV. 108.
Gum, XI. 34 ; XVII. 663—in chemistry,
VI. 477—gum-proper, ib.—bassorin,
4 7 8—gum-kuteera, ib. — cherry-tree
gum, ib.—vegetable mucus, ib.—calen-
dulin, ib.—gum-anime, VII. 707—nu¬
tritive qualities of, VIII. 20—imports
of, into the United Kingdom, 783—
specific gravities of various kinds of,
XII. 30.
GUM—GUY
Gum-resins, VI. 490—fetid, ib.—drastic,
491—aromatic, 491.
Gums, in anatomy, XI. 34.
Gumbinnen, in Prussia, XI. 34.
Gummipollam, XI. 34.
Gun, XI. 34—different kinds of, 67—
casting of cannon, VI. 84—rifle, XX.
302—fowling-piece, 304. See Artil¬
lery, Cannon, Gunnery, Shooting.
Gun-battery, IV. 435.
Gun-making, XI. 35—casting of can¬
non, VI. 84—tenacity of mixtures of
metals, XX. 757.
Gun-signals, XX. 336.
Gun-Smithery, XI. 86.
Gundara, Hindu town, XI. 34.
Gundezama, river, XI. 34.
Gundgole, Hindu town, XI. 35.
Gunduck, Hindu town, XI. 34.
Gundwana, in Hindustan, XI. 35—in¬
habitants of, IV. 730.
Gunellus, fish, XII. 192.
Gungapatam, XI. 35.
Gunhilda, VIII. 706.
Gunnel, XI. 87—fish, XII. 193.
Gunner, naval, XVI. 52.
Gunnery, XI. 42—gunner’s level, XIII.
257—resistance of the air to projec¬
tiles, XVIII. 115. See Projectiles.
Gunpowder, XI. 76—whether invented
by Roger Bacon, HI. 541, n. 1; VI.
343—effects of its invention on the
art of war. III. 596, 632; VI. 614—
blasting with, IV. 675—explosive force
of, ib.; XI. 43—magazine of, at Pur-
fleet, VI. 26—how to inflame it by
electricity, VIII. 626—specific gravity
of, XII. 80—Count Rumford’s expe¬
riments on, XXI. 247.
Gunpowder-plot, V. 304, 805.
Gunpowder-tea, XXI. 132.
Gunsburg, in Bavaria, XI. 86.
Gunter (Edmund), mathematician, XI.
86—onlogarithms, XIII.419—on navi¬
gation, XV. 748.
Gunter’s Line, XI. 86—Quadrant, 87
—Scale, ib.; XIII. 419.
Guntoor, in Hindustan, XI. 87.
Gunwale, or Gunnel, XI. 87.
Gunzenhausen, in Bavaria, XL 88.
. Gurdaiz, African town, XI. 87.
Gurions, coast of the, IV. 661.
Gurnards, fish, XII. 173.
Gurney’s lighthouse lamp, XX. 28.
- Gurrah, Hindu town, XI. 87.
Gurrumcondah, XI. 87.
, Gurudwarah, XI. 87.
Gurwal, in Hindustan, XI. 87.
Gustavus I., king of Sweden, XI. 88.
 Vasa, of Sweden, XXI. 13, 16.
  Adolphus, XI. 88—his army,
III. 597—his reign, XXI. 16—killed
at Lutzen, 19.
 III., king of Sweden, XXI. 26;
V. 451.
 IV., of Sweden, XXI. 28.
, Gustrow, in Austria, XI. 88.
Gutenberg (John), inventor of printing,
IV. 622; XVIII. 542—works printed
by, 545.
Gutpurba, Hindu river, XI. 88.
Gutta, XL 88.
 Serena, XI. 88—in the domes¬
tic animals, XXI. 636.
 ,in architecture, XI. 88; III. 467.
Guttenberg. See Gutenberg.
Gutters, in building, VI. 693.
Guttiferae, in botany, V. 101.
Guttones, VI. 274.
Gutts, in heraldry, XI. 252.
Guttural, XI. 88.
Gutty, in heraldry, XI. 88.
Guy, XI. 89.
 (Thomas), XI. 88.
 de Chauliac, XX. 828.
Guy’s Cliff, in Warwickshire, XI. 89-.
Guy’s Hospital, XIII. 514 ; XI. 89.
Guyon (Madame), XL 88 ; I. 335-6; V.
25 ; IX. 505 ; XVIII. 792.
Guyton-Morveau (Baron L. B.), XI.
89—his attempt to ground the theory
of electric attraction on capillary ac¬
tion, I. 615—on the force of adhesion,
GUZ—HAD
II. 151—his aerial voyages, 188, 192—
on capillary attraction, XII. 45.
Guzelhisar, XI. 93.
Guzerat, XI., in Hindustan, 30—culture
of cotton in, VII. 406.
Guzman (Dominic de), sent against the
Albigenses, XII. 284.
Guznogur, in Africa, XI. 93.
Gwarriahs, XI. 397.
Gwilt on Salisbury cathedral, III. 422
—on the absurdities of Vitruvius, 425
—on orders of architecture, 437.
Gwylim (David ap), VI. 138.
Gybing, XI. 93.
Gye’s letter-balance, XXI. 839.
Gyges, a Lydian, XI. 93; XIII. 607.
Gyllenburg (Count), V. 37 6.
Gymnarchus, fish, XII. 226.
Gymnasiarch, XI. 93.
Gymnasium, XI. 93.
Gymnastics, XI. 94.
Gymnetis, insect, IX. 161.
Gymnetrus, fish, XII. 189.
Gymnocephalus, bird, XVI. 569.
Gymnodactylus, reptile, XIX. 148.
Gymnodera, birds, XVI. 571.
Gymnodontes, fishes, XII. 228.
Gymnopa, insect, IX. 291.
Gymnopleurus, insect, IX. 153.
Gymnops, bird, XVI. 574.
Gymnorhynchus, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Gymnosoma, insect, IX. 281.
Gymnosophists, XI. 96 ; V. 176.
Gymnospermae, in botany, V. 131.
Gymnotus electricus, XII. 162, 225 ;
VIII. 572, 612—its electrical organs,
XVII. 718.
Gyn^ceum, XI. 97—in botany, V. 44.
Gyn*cocracy, XI. 97.
GYNffiCOCRATUMENI, XI. 97.
Gynandrous stamens and petals, V. 42
Gyongios, Hungarian town, XI. 97.
Gypsetos, bird, XVI. 560.
Gypsies, XI. 97—the Bazeegurs of In¬
dia analogous to, IV. 470—in Greece,
X. 738—at Yetholm, XXI. 960—their
language, XIII. 81.
Gypsum, XV. 139—its use as a manure,
II. 305—mortar of lime and, VI. 289
—specific gravity of, XII. 30—casting
with, VI. 230 ; XV. 311 ; XVII. 796.
Gyrinus, insect, IX. 135.
Gyrogona, in conchology, XV. 345.
Gyron, in heraldry, XI. 251.
Gyronuy, in heraldry, XI. 251.
H
H, letter of alphabet, XI. 99 ; II. 547.
Haarlem, or Haerlem, XI. 99—besieged
and taken by the Spaniards, II. 579 ;
XI. 516—early printing at, IV. 622 ;
XVIII. 549.
Haase on the lymphatics, II. 703.
Habakk.uk, Jewish prophet, XI. 99—
style of, XVIII. 147.
Habdala, Jewish ceremony, XI. 99.
Habeas Corpus, XI. 99.
Habeas Corpus Act, XI. 100—passing
of the, V. 348—its suspension in 1794,
474 ; and in Ireland, 545.
Habelschwert, Prussian city, XI. 100.
Haberdasher, XI. 100.
Habergion, XI. 100.
Habit, ptl. 101—its influence orf the
mind, VII. 558; and in the animal
economy, 561—Malebrauche on for¬
mation of habits, I. 77. See Custom.
Habsal, in Russia, XI. 101.
Habsburgh, XI. 101; IV. 219.
Habur, island, XI. 101.
Hacket (John), bishop, XI. 101.
Hackles, in angling, III. 136.
Hackney, in Middlesex, XI. 101.
 Coaches, XI. 101; VII. 6.
 horse, XI. 588.
Haco, king of Norway, XIX. 708.
Haddington, XI. 101.
Haddingtonshire, XI. 102—agricul¬
ture of, II. 261—fisheries, IX. 601.
HAD—HAL
Haddock, XII. 208.
 (Sir Richard), XX. 225.
Haddon Hall, VII. 737.
Hadeln, in Hanover, XL 105.
Hadersleben, Danish city, XI. 105.
Hades, XI. 105.
Hadida, Syrian town, XL 105.
Hadie, Arabian town, XI. 105.
HADLEiGH.town in Suffolk, XL 105.
Hadley (George), on the trade-winds,
XIV. 746.
Hadley’s reflecting telescope, I. 632 ;
II. 99—his quadrant, I. 632 ; XV.
774.
Hadramaut, in Arabia, III. 326.
Hadrian, Roman emperor, II. 162—
Alexandria repaired by, 410—his wall
in Britain, 163; III. 272; V. 300 ;
XIX. 695—villa of, III. 444—mauso
leum of, 447—Athens improved by,
IV. 119—his residence in Egypt, VIII.
476—Jerusalem rebuilt by, XII. 576
—reign of, XIX. 407.
Hsemadoraceai, in botany, V. 133.
Hiematite, a mineral, XV. 162—used
for smelting, VI. 88.
Hsematopota, insects, IX. 265.
Heematopus, bird, XVI. 617.
Haamaturis in animals, XXI. 628.
Heemocharis, worm, XI. 226.
Hsemopis, worm, XI. 226.
Ha!Morrhage, XI. 105 ; XVII. 127—
surgical treatment of, XX. 832.
Hzemorrhoidal, XI. 105.
Haemorrhoids, XI. 105.
Hsemulon, fish, XII. 17 6.
H.®mus, mountains, XI. 105.
Haen (Monsieur de), on magic and mi¬
racles, XIV. 9.
Haerlem. See Haarlem.
HiERETICO COMBURENDO, XI. 105.
Haerlebeke, XI. 105.
Hafar, Asiatic canal, XI. 105.
Hafiz, Persian poet, XVII. 253—his
monument at Shiraz, XX. 298.
Hagarens, XI. 106.
Hagen, Prussian town, XI. 106.
Hagerstown, in Maryland, XIV. 27S.
Haggai, prophet, XI. 106.
Hagiographa, XI. 106.
Hague, XI. 106—political riots there in
the year 1784, V. 446.
Haguenau, French city, XI. 106.
Hail, XI. 106 ; XVII. 537—attempts
to prevent the formation of, by erect¬
ing thunder-rods, I. 621—electrical
origin of, VIII. 621.
Hailes (Lord). See Dalrymple (Sir D.)
Hailsham, in Sussex, XI. 106.
Hainan, island, XI. 106.
Hainault-scythe, II. 270, 350.
Hainburg, Austrian city, XI. 106.
Hair, XI. 107 ; XVII. 607—structure
of human, II. 751—best kinds of, for
fishing-lines. III. 137—of animals,
XIV. 85, 139, 164.
 , or down, of plants, XI. 108;
III. 69—of leaves, III. 95.
Hair-ball, in animals, XXI. 626.
Hair-rope water-machine, XII. 99.
Hair-worm, or Hair-eel, XI. 226.
Hajygunge, Hindu town, XI. 108.
Hajykan, in Asia, XI. 108.
Hajypoor, in Hindustan, XI. 108.
Hake, fish, XI. 109; XII. 218.
Hake will (Dr George), on the decline of
intellectual power in modern times, I.
240.
Hakluyt (Richard), XI. 109—his Col¬
lection of Voyages, IV. 623, n. 2.
Hal, or Halle, XI. 109.
Haladroma, bird, XVI. 632.
Halberstadt, Prussian city, XI. 109.
Halbert, or Halbard, XL 109.
Halcyon, XI. 109—days, ib.
Haldat (Mons.), of Nancy, on magnet¬
ism, XIII. 697, 707, 714.
Halde (John Baptist du), XI. 109.
Haldubarry, Hindu town, XI. 109.
Hale (Sir Matthew), XI. 109—on the
foundation of the authority of laws,
VI. 93—on mercy to animals, XL
597—on law-reform, XIII. 188, 19L
INDEX
73
HAL
Hales (Stephen), XI. 110—on the sap
of plants, XXI. 571.
— of Eaton, Lord Hailes’s edition
of his works, VII. 603.
Halesowen, in Salop, XI. 112.
Haleswobth, in Suffolk, XI. 112.
Haley (Mr), on the wear of scapements,
VI. 795.
Half-pay, in the navy, XVI. 62.
Half-way Island, XI. 112.
Halfpenny, copper coin, XI. 112.
Halhed (Mr), on Hindu notions con¬
cerning the universe, XVII. 428.
Halisetus, bird, XVI. 562.
Halicore, in zoology, XIV. 170.
Hali-beigh, XI. 112; VIII. 557.
Halicarnassus, XI. 112.
Halictus, insect, IX. 232.
Halicz, Austrian town, XI. 113.
Halieutics, XI. 113.
Halifax, in Yorkshire, XI. 113—wool¬
len manufacture of, XXI. 927.
 , a town in Nova Scotia, XI. 113 ;
XVI. 285.
 (Marquis of). See Savile.
Haliotidse, mollusca, XV. 364.
Haliotis, molluseum, XV. 364.
Halithea, worm, XI. 221.
Halitus, XVII. 599, 633.
Hall, cities so named, XI. 113, 114.
 , in architecture, &c., XI. 114.
  (Capt. Basil), his barometrical
observations, IV. 394—on the falls
of Niagara, VI. 59—on the Rideau
Canal, 64, w. 5—on preserved food,
IX. 732.
 (C. M.), his achromatic tele¬
scope, XVI. 362.
 (Sir James), on scratches on the
surface of rocks, VII. 703.
 (James), voyages of, XVIII. 218.
 — (John), account of his patent
ropes, XIX. 467.
 (Joseph), bishop, XI. 114.
 (Dr Marshall), on the nervous
system, XIV. 582, ei seq.—on blood¬
letting as a source of diagnosis, XVII.
496 — his differential thermometer,
XXI. 239.
 (Robert), XI. 114—his opinion
of Bentham, XIII. 167.
Hallage, fee or toll, XI. 118.
Hallam (Henry), on the study of the
canon and civil laws, VI. 708—on the
feudal System, IX. 523.
Hallamas, Xl. 118.
Halle, Prussian city, XI. 118—univer¬
sity of, XVIII. 700.
 (John), II. 697.
Hallein, Austrian city, XI. 118.
Hallelujah, XI. 118; II. 523.
Haller (Albert Van), XI. 118—his
anatomical labours, II. 702, 703—on
fat, 716—on the arteries, 717, et seq.,
723—on the veins, 722—on exhala¬
tion, 727—on the lymphatics, 729—on
the weight of the brain, 807—on the
botany of Switzerland, V. 81*—his
botanical classification, ib.—on irrita¬
bility, XII. 457—on the elementary
material of the human body, XVII.
596—on physiology, 729—on surgery,
XX. 831.
Halley (Dr Edmund), XI. 119—phy¬
sics greatly indebted to, I. 542—his
voyages, 542, 543, 626; VII. 296—
on the winds peculiar to the tropics,
I. 543—his life, works, and charac¬
ter, 581—on magnetism, 625 ; XIII.
687, 730—on probabilities of life, III.
198—his edition of Apollonius, 288;
VII. 219—his astronomical labours,
I. 542; III. 744—his Comet, IV. 38,
69; I. 667—constellations added by,
IV. 42—on aurora borealis, 195, 198
—on the barometer, IV. 395—on ba¬
rometrical measurements, 397 ; I.
613—his improvement of the diving-
bell, VIII. 65—on evaporation, IX.
425, 427 ; I. 543—on projectiles, XI.
43—on magnetism, XIII. 687, 730—
on trade-winds, XIV. 746; I. 543—
—on mortality, XV. 514, 544—on na-
HAL—HAM
vigation, 749, 750—Dr Simson’s high
opinion of, XX. 357—on the origin of
springs, 549; I. 543.
Halliar, in Hindustan, XI. 120.
Hallomenus, insect, IX. 166.
Hallooing, in hunting, XI. 755.
Hallow/U, in Maine, XIV. 44.
Hally Abbas, Arabian surgeon, XX. 826.
Halmote, or Halimote, XI. 120.
Halmstad, Swedish province, XI. 120.
Halo, XI. 120; VII. 371 ; XIV. 749;
XVI. 509 ; XVII. 542—colours of
halos, VI. 634.
Haloide, in mineralogy, XV. 139.
Halorageae, in botany, V. 110.
Halstead, town in Essex, XI. 120.
HalteristvE, XI. 120.
Halymote, XI. 121.
Halyotis, in conchology, XV. 348.
Halys, river, XI. 121.
Halywercfolk, XI. 121.
Ham, XI. 121.
 —, son of Noah, XI. 121—descen¬
dants of, XVII. 355.
Hamadan, in Persia, XI. 121; VIII. 395.
Hamadryades, XI. 121.
Hamah, Syrian town, XI. 121.
Hamamelidese, in botany, V. 114.
Hamaxobii, XI. 122.
Hambledon, town in Hants, XI. 122.
Hamburg, XI. 122—commerce of, VII.
158-—-corn-trade, 363—disputes with
Denmark, 722—rate of interest, XII.
327—coins, XV. 407,409—mortality,
536—Bank of, XVII. 45—weights and
measures, XXI. 858.
   Company, VII. 181.
Hamel (John Baptiste du), XI. 122—
his anatomical researches, II. 701.
 (H. L. de V. le M. du), VIII.
255—on vegetable anatomy, III. 42,
et seq.—his botanical labours, V. 86—
his artificial magnets, XIII. 755—his
experiments on the strength of mate¬
rials, XX. 7 64,7 72—on vegetable phy¬
siology and timber, XXI. 293, etseq. ;
569, et seq.
   (Dr), account of his ascent of
Mont Blanc, II. 562.
Hameln, city of Hanover, XI. 123.
Hamesecken, or Hamesucken, XI. 123.
Hami, in Asia, XI. 123.
Hamilcar Barcas, XI. 123; II. 656 ;
VI. 184, 193, et seq.
 , son of Cisco, VI. 187.
Hamilton, a town in Lanarkshire, XI.
123; XIII. 50.
 (Anthony Count), XI. 124.
 (Lord Archibald), his measures
for obtaining parliamentary reform,
V. 553, 556, 558.
  (the Honourable Charles), his
water-clock, XII. 109.
  (Gavin), V. 742.
 (Geo.), earl of Orkney, XI. 124.
 (John), bishop, XI. 124.
 (Dr Robert), XI. 124—on the
National Debt, X. 244, et seq.—on
capillary attraction, XII. 39— on the
lever, XIV. 361.
 (Sir Wm.), his account of iEtna,
II. 200—on optics, XVI. 374, 484.
 (Wm.), on Egyptian architecture
and antiquities, III. 409 ; VIII. 531,
et seq., 556.
 (Marquis of), in Charles the Se¬
cond’s reign, V. 316.
Hamites, in conchology, XV. 345.
Hamlet, XI. 127.
Hammels, II. 272.
Hammer, XL 127.
Hammerfest, in Lapland, XIII. 112.
Hammering, XI. 127.
Hammersmith, XI. 127.
Hammock, XI. 127.
Hammond (Anthony), poet, XI. 127.
 (Dr Henry), XI. 127.
 (James), poet, XI. 127,
 (Mr), on codification, XIII. 192.
Hammond’s Islands, XI. 128.
Hampden (John), XI. 128 ; V. 315.
Hampshire, XI. 128—breed of pigs, II.
338—fisheries, IX. 603.
HAM—-HAR
Hampstead, in Middlesex, XI. 130.
Hampton, English village, XI. 130.
Hamster, XIV. 134—its hybernation,
III. 167—its structure, XVII. 705.
Hanaper, XI. 130.
Hanau, in Hesse-Cassel, XI. 130, 287
—battle of, X. 165.
Hances, in architecture, XI. 130.
Hancock, in Maryland, XIV. 273.
Hand, XI. 130;* XIV. 86; XVII. 700
—bones of the, II. 788—muscles, 793
—motions, 795—structure and uses,
XVII. 617.
Hands, XI. 131—^imposition of, 130.
Handel (George Frederick), XI. 131.
Handkerchiefs, folding of, VI. 21.
Hand-loom weavers, X. 558.
Hand-mule jenny, XX. 541.
Handson (R.), on navigation, XV. 748.
Handspike, XI. 133.
Hang, in ship-building, XX. 288.
Hangtcheotou, Chinese city, XI. 133.
Hangcliff, in Zetland, XI. 133.
Hanging, death from, XIV. 498—pun-
ishmertt of, 513.
Hangwelle, in Ceylon, XI. 133.
Hanley, in Staffordshire, XI. 133.
Hannibal, XI. 133, 476—his army, III.
589—invasion of Sicily, VI. 184—war
with the Romans, 196 ; XIX. 386—
character, VI. 199—Prusias assisted
by, XVII. 229—Saguntum captured
by, XX. 490—Whitaker on his pas¬
sage over the Alps, XXI. 872.
Hanno, navigator, XI. 135—Periplus or
voyage of, II. 219 ; X. 389; XX. 211
—translation of his Periplus by Cam-
pomanes, VI. 52.
 ,general,XI. 135; VI. 189,etseq.
Hanover, XI. 135—army of. III. 610
—conquered by the French, V. 385—
invaded by the French, 517—coins of,
XV. 407, 409, 410—heights of moun¬
tains, XVII. 505—weights and mea-
Bures, XXI. 853—city, XI. 139.
 (New), island, XI. 140.
Hanse, or Hans, XI. 140.
Hanse-towns, XI. 140 — their com¬
merce, VII. 158—their disputes with
Denmark, 721—French trade with,
X. 191.
Hansoot, Hindu town, XI. 141.
IJansteen (Prof.), on aurora borealis,
IV. 201—on magnetism, XIII. 691,
699, 723, 731, 738,740,743,748,751.
Hansy, Hindu town, XI. 141.
Hantchao, island, XI. 141.
Hantchong, Chinese city, XI. 141.
Hanway (Jonas), XI. 141.
Hanyang, Chinese city, XI. 141.
Haouran, XVI. 746 ; XXL 61.
Hapacho wood, XVII. 60.
Happiness, XI. 142; XV. 466—Aris¬
totle on, III. 520—effects of custom
on, VII. 558—is the end of educa¬
tion, VIII. 439—wherein it consists
not yet determined, ib.—motives to
virtue from, XV. 484—arrangements
of the universe conducive to, XVII.
561, 588—Socrates on, XX. 462. See
Pleasure.
Hapsburg, XI. 101-rdynasty, IV. 219.
Hapue, islets, XT, 144.
Haqde, a hand-gun, XI. 144.
Haran, in Mesopotamia, XI. 144.
Harangue, XI. 145.
Harbinger, king’s officer, XI. 145.
Harbinger’s Reefs, XI. 145.
Harborough (Market), XI. 145.
Harbours, XI. 145—dredging of, VIII.
193—English, 763. See Docks, Baltic,
Black Sea, &c.
Harbs, Arabian tribe, III. 330.
Harburg, in Hanover, XI. 145.
Harclay (Sir Andrew), VI. 613.
Harcourt, in France, XI. 145.
Harder, gland of, III. 24.
Harderwyk, XI. 145.
Hardheim, town in Maine, XI. 145.
Hardicanute, reign of, VIII. 707.
Hardie (Thomas), V. 474, 475.
Harding (Mens.), his discovery of the
planet Juno, IV. 30.
HAR
Hardness, XI. 145 — perception of,
XIV. 609—in mineralogy, XV. 125.
Hardouin (John), Jesuit, XI. 145.
Hardware-manufacture of Birmingham,
IV. 649 ; England, VIII. 775 ; France,
X. 182 ; Spain, XX. 519; Stafford¬
shire, XX. 558. See Cutlery, Iron-
manufacture, Japanning, &e.
Hardwick Hall, VII. 737.
Hardy (Sir Charles), V. 409.
Hardy’s instrument for measuring small
intervals of time, VI. 783—instru¬
ment for trying the stability of sup¬
ports of pendulums, 786—compensa¬
tion-balance, 799 —inverted pendu¬
lum, XVII. 218.
Hare (Dr Francis), bishop, XI. 146.
 (Dr Robert), his electrical ma¬
chine, VIII. 578, 642—his single-leaf
electrometer, 656—his improved bat¬
tery, or galvanic deflagrator, XXI.
667—his calorimo'tor, 672—his gal¬
vanic experiments, 677.
 , XIV. 139—its structure, XVII.
705—hare-skins, X. 265, 267—hare-
hunting, XI. 749 ; XX. 313.
Harelip, treatment of, XX. 845.
Haredwara, XI. 760.
Harem of Turkish sultan, XXI. 421.
Harewood, in Yorkshire, XI. 146.
Harfang, bird, XVI. 566.
Harfleur, in France, XI. 147.
Hargreaves (James), X. 554—his card-
ing-maehine and spinning-jenny, VII.
399 ; XX. 537.
Harfhara, Hindu town, XI. 147.
Hariorpoor, Hindu town, XL 147.
Hariot, or Heriot, in law, XI. 147.
 (Thomas). See Harriot.
Harland (Sir Robert), V. 406.
Harlech, Welsh town, XL 147.
Harleian MSS., XI. 147; XIII. 296.
Harlem Isle, XL 147. See Haarlem.
Harlequin, XI. 147; VIII. 158.
Harleston, town of Norfolk, XI. 147.
Harley (Robert), earl of Oxford, X.
147—his kindness to Defoe, VII. 669.
 (Wm.), his dairy, VII. 590.
Hauling (East), in Norfolk, XI. 147-
Harlingen, XI. 148.
Harlot, XI. 148. See Courtezan.
Harlow, town of Essex, XI. 148.
Harmattan, African wind, XI. 148 ;
VII. 588 ; XVII. 541.
Harmodius, XI. 149; IV. 148.
Harmonia, XI. 149.
Harmonic, XI. 149.
Harmonica, XI. 149.
Harmonics, acute, II. 122. ■
Harmonites, sect of, XII. 266.
Harmony, in music, XI. 150 ; II. 122;
XV. 623—theories of, 605.
 , town of Indiana, XII. 266.
Harmostes, XI. 151.
Harmosynians, XI. 151.
Harmotome, specific gravity of, XII. 30.
Harness, XI. 151.
Haro, XI. 151.
Harold, king of England, VIII. 707-8.
 Hardrada, VIII. 709.
 Harfagr, XVI. 258.
Haroun-al-Rasehid, Bagdad improved
by, IV. 280—tomb of, XV. 003-me-
dicine encouraged by, XX. 825.
Harp, XI. 152.
Harpa, in conchology, XV. 347.
Harpacines, XL 152.
Harpagus, XI. 152 ; VII. 577.
Harpalici, insects, IX. 122.
Harpalus, Greek astronomer, XI. 152.
  , insect, IX. 122.
Harpe (J. F. de la), his eulogy of Con¬
dillac, I. 116—his definition of reflec¬
tion, ib.
Harpies, XI. 152.
Harpings of a ship, XI. 153.
Harpocrates, XI. 153 ; VIII. 553.
Harpocration, grammarian, XI. 153.
Harponully, in India, XI. 158.
Harpoon, in whale-fishing, XI. 153.
Harpsichord, XI. 153.
Harpsted, in Hanover, XI. 153.
Harpy, bird, XVI. 563. See Harpies.
74
INDEX,
HAR
Harpvia, birds, XVI. 563.
Harqcebtjss, XI. 153.
Harkieb, XI. 153, 705, 750.
 , bird, XVI. 561.
Harrild’s printing-press, XVIII. 570.
Harrington, in Cumberland, XI. 153.
 (Sir John), poet, XI. 153.
■  (James), XI. 153—merits of his
Oceana, I. 47.
 , in St John’s, XII. 591.
Harriot (Thomas), XI. 154; XIV.316
—his improvements in algebra, I. 443;
II. 423—observed the spots on the
sun scarcely a month later than Gali¬
leo, I. 443—telescopes employed by,
XVI. 356.
Harris (James), XI. 154—on grammar,
X. 648, et seq.; 686, note 4—on me¬
mory, XIV. 613—on matter, 643—on
‘ money, XVIII. 268.
■  (Snow),on electricity, VIII. 575,
587—his instrument for measuring
the evolution of heat by electricity,
626—his ship-conductors, 647—his
electroscope, 657—his electrometer,
658—his measuring-electrometer, 659
—his electrical balance, 600—his elec¬
trical machine, 641—on magnetism,
XIII. 697, 715.
 (General), V. 488.
  (Captain), his rifle-shooting in
South Africa, XX. 302.
 , in the Hebrides, XI. 155; XIII.
263 — mode of fixing the blowing
sands in, II. 315.
Harrisburgh, XVII. 224.
Harrison (John), XI: 155—his clock,
VI. 771—his contrivance for keeping
clocks and watches going while wound,
784—his compensation-balance, 798—
his scapement, VI. 776—his chrono¬
meters, XIII. 558—his gridiron-pen¬
dulum, XVII. 214.
  (William), XI. 155.
 , in Indiana, XII. 266.
Harrow, in Middlesex, XI. 156.
 , in agriculture, II. 267, 350.
Harrowgate, in Yorkshire, XI. 156.
Harrowty, in Hindustan, XI. 156.
Harsefeld, in Hanover, XI. 156.
Hart, male deer, XI. 156. See Deer.
Hart’s Horns, XI. 156.
Hart’s galvanic battery, XXI. 666.
HartbErg, in Austria, XI. 156.
Harte (Walter), historian, XI. 156.
Hartford, Deaf and Dumb Institution
at, VII. 264.
Hartland, in Devon, XI. 156.
Habtlebury, in Worcester, XI. 156.
Hartlepool, XI. 156—port of, VIIL
289—chalybeate spring at, 290—ro¬
mantic rocks near, ib.—ship-canal at,
XVI. 14.
Hartley, in Northumberland, XI. 157.
  — (David), XI. 157—on the ori¬
gin of our knowledge, I. 115 — his
Theory of Human Nature, 170-1, 362-
70—on association of ideas, I. 170,
364 ; VIII. 436—his merits as a phi¬
losopher, I. 365 ; VIII. 437—on the
sense of taste, 443—on the origin of
sexual desire, XII. 301—on percep¬
tion, XIV. 605—on memory, 613, 617
—his vibratory theory of sensations,
XVII. 673.
Hartlib on agriculture, II. 257.
Hartmann il’rof.), his edition of Ed-
risi’s Geography, VIII. 433.
Hartog (Dirk), his voyage, IV. 205.
Hartz Mountains, XI. 137.
Haruspices, XI. 157; III. 661.
Haruspicy, VIII. 58.
Harvard University, XIV. 303—library
of, 13,317.
Harvest, XI. 157.
Harvest-bug, III. 369.
Harvest-fish, XII. 188.
Harvest-Home, feast of, XI. 157.
Harvest-moon, III. 787.
Harvey (Dr William), XI. 157—his dis¬
covery of'the circulation of the blood,
II. 698 ; XVII. 641,727—importance
of that discovery, XX. 829.
HAR—HAW
Harvey Islands, XVIII. 323.
Harvey’s Isle, XI. 158.
Harwich, in Essex, XI. 158.
Harwood (Dr), on editions of the ancient
classics, IV. 627.
Harzgeuode, German city, XI. 158.
Hase, of Wirtemberg, on the speaking-
trumpet, XXI. 391.
Haselmere, in Surrey, XI. 158.
Haskins’ quicksilver-pump, XVIII. 718.
Haslah, Hindu town, XI. 158.
Haslar Hospital, XI. 129.
Haslebeest, African animal, II. 228.
Haslingden, in Lancashire, XI. 158.
Hasparren, in France, XX. 158.
Hassan Aga, II. 505.
 Keela, in Armenia, XI. 1.58.
 Pasha, VIII. 487.
Hasselquist (Frederick), Swedish tra¬
veller, XI. 158.
Hasselt, in the Netherlands, XI. 158.
Hassenfratz (Monsieur), on the speaking
trumpet, II. 119.
Hasser, Hindu town, XI. 158.
Hasta, XI. 158-9.
Hastee, Hindu town, XI. 159.
Hastenback, battle of, V. 385.
Hastings, town in Sussex, XI. 164—
battle of, VIII. 710.
 (Warren), XI. 159, 421, 425,
ct Mg.—charges against, V. 430—trial
of, 440, 444, 455, 460, 477, 715—im¬
peached, 444, 450—considerations on
his conduct in India, 445—his acquit¬
tal, 477.
Hats, XI. 164—use of oak-hark in dye¬
ing, VIII. 328—straw-hats, XI. 166.
Hat-making, XI. 165—in England,
VIII. 778—in France, X. 183.
Hatch, in a. ship, XI. 167.
Hatchel, XI. 167.
Hatches, XI. 167.
Hatchet, XI. 167.
Hatching of eggs, XI. 167; XVII. 712
—by artificial means, SIX. 81.
Hatchments, in heraldry, XI. 167,260.
Hatfield, XI. 168.
Hatfield-Broad-Oak, XI. 168.
Hatherleigh, in Devon, XI. 168.
Hatras, Hindu town, XI. 168.
Hatred, XV. 466.
Hattemists, Dutch heretios, XI. 168.
Hattia Isle, XI. 168.
Hattock, XI. 168.
Hauksbee (Francis), the best experi¬
menter of his time, I. 617—on the lu¬
minous barometer, IV. 391—his ba¬
rometrical experiment, 395—on elec¬
tricity, VIII. 566—on gunpowder, XI.
85—on capillary attraction, XII. 43
—on magnetism, XIII. 688—on de¬
scent of the barometer, XIV. 722—his
air-pump, XVIH. 81.
Haul, XI. 168.
Haum, XI. 168.
Haunch, XI. 168.
Hauranca Isle, XI. If8.
Hauriant, in heraldry, XI. 168.
Hausruck, in Austria, XI. 168.
Haussman on dyeing blue, VIII. 328.
Hautboy, musical instrument, XI. 168.
Haute-Feuille (John), XI. 168—his
lever-scapement, VI. 795.
Hautpoul, in France, XI. 169.
Hauy (Rene Just), XI. 169—on crys¬
tallization, VII. 506, 5X1—on pyro¬
electricity, VHI. 571, 578, 595, et
svq-—on the electricity of minerals,
579—his electroscopes, 595—on elec¬
tricity produced by pressure, 600—on
capillary attraction, XII. 41.
Hauyne, specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Havannah, in Cuba, XI. 171.
Havant, in Hampshire, XI. 171.
Have (La), in Nova Scotia, XVI. 286.
Havelberg, Prussian town, XI. 171.
Havercamp (Sigibert), XL 171.
Haverfordwest, XI. 172; XVII. 183.
Haverhill, in Suffolk, XI. 172.
Havre, in geography, XL 172.
Havre-de-Grace, French city, XL 172.
Haw, XI. 172.
Haw Arden, in Flintshire, XL 172. I
HAW—HE A
Hawes (Dr), on apparent death, and
mode of treatment, XII. 330.
Hawfinch, XVI. 581.
Hawgh, or Howgh, XI. 172.
Hawick, Scotch town, XI. 172.
Hawk, XVI. 563 ; II. 87.
Hawke (Admiral), V. 383, 386.
Hawke’s patent organ, XVI. 533.
Hawker (Colonel), on wildfowl shooting,
XX. 308.
Hawkers, XI. 173.
Hawkes (John), on hunting, XI. 742.
Hawkesbury, river in New Holland,
XL 173 ; XXI. 715.
Hawkesworth (John), XI. 173—aided
by Dr Joseph Warton in publishing
The Adventurer, XXI. 778.
Hawking, XI. 173.
Hawkins (Sir John), XI. 175.
———(John Isaac), his filter, IX. 581
—his hydraulic weighing-machine,
XXI. 839.
Hawk-moth, IX. 224.
Hawk’s-beak, in architecture. III. 442.
Hawkshury (Lord), on the peace of
Amiens, V. 510.
Hawkshead, XI. 175.
Hawksmoor’s architecture, III. 429.
Hawley (General), defeated by Prince
Charles at Falkirk, V. 382.
Haworth (Mr), on the insensibility of in¬
sects to pain, III. 164.
Hawse, XI. 175—hawse-holes, ib.
Hawser, XI. 176.
Hawthorn, XVII. 785, 788.
Hawthornden, VIII. 211.
Hay, XL 604—hay-making, II. 291, 309
—American hay-rake, 350.
 , Welsh town, XL 176.
  (William), on personal defor¬
mity, VII. 673, 675.
Haycraft on heat, XI. 193.
Haydn (F. J.), XL 176 —his habits in
composition, VII. 193—his .imitative
music, XV. 641.
Hayes (Charles), XL 177.
Haygarth (Dr), on Perkins’s tractor,
XIV. 4—on mortality, XV. 516.
Haymarket Theatre,London, XIII. 534?
XXI. 193-4, 550.
Haynau, in Prussia, XI. 177.
Hayradin, king of Algiers, II. 504.
Hayter (Mr), his examination of ancient
manuscripts, XI. 265.
Hayti, VIIL 102—republic of, 106 ; II.
648—French trade with, X. 191—the
Spaniards in, XVI. 681—weights and
measures of, XXI. 853. See Domin¬
go (St).
Hayward, XL 177.
Hazael, king of Israel, XI. 177.
Hazard, game of, XI. 177.
Hazebrouck, in France, XL 178.
Hazel-trees, XVII. 790—culture of, XI.
650—specific gravity of, XH. 30.
Hazel-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 337, 338.
Hazel-fly, its use in angling, III. 139.
Hazlitt (William), XL 178.
Hazorta, Abyssinian tribe, II. 62.
Head, XI. 179—nations fabled to want
it, II. 91—regions of the, 757—its
size in male and female infants, 757-8
—bones of, II. 770—muscles, 793—
some animals continue to live after
losing it, III. 163.
(Capt.), on the dimensions of
the Great Pyramid, VIII. 548.
   (Sir Francis), on the condor of
America, XVI. 558.
Heads of colleges at Oxford, XXI. 496.
Head-borow, XI. 179.
Head-pence, XI. 179.
Head-dress, XI. 179.
Healfang, XL 179.
Healing, XI. 179.
Health, XI. 179, 144—eSect of bodily
deformity on, VII. 674—its influence
on dreams, VIIL 186; on the mind,
441—riding and hunting beneficial
to, XI. 608,740—circumstances affect¬
ing, XIV. 508—a source of happiness,
XV. 467—of seamen, XVI. 53—sa¬
lubrity of the atmosphere, IV. 138— I
HEA
marshy countries subject to fever,
ib. See Disease, Exercise, Ventila¬
tion, &c.
Hearing, XL 179; XVII. 579, 665;
XIV. 610—in brutes. III. 165; XVII.
703, et seq.; fishes, II. HI, 112;
bees, IV. 523; insects, IX. 79—organs
of, in man, II. 800 ; in brutes, HI. 25
—in relation to music, XV. 607. See
Ear, Deaf and Dumb.
Hearing-trumpet, XXI. 398.
Hearman and Dearn’s filter, IX. 580.
Hearne’s Journey to Coppermine River,
XI. 717—on the heaver, XIV. 137.
Hearse, XL 179.
Heart, anatomy of, II. 818; XVII. 637
—functions, 637—course of the blood
in, II. 820—comparative anatomy of,
HI. 39 ; XVII. 702, et seq.—diseases
of, 485 ; in the domestic animals,
XXI. 632—brain and spinal cord the
sources of its muscular power, XVII.
680—of serpents, XX. 130. See
Blood.
Heart-wood, V. 33.
Hearths, building of, V. 676.
Heat, XI. 180—nature of, ib.—diffusion
of, 181—effects of, 187 ; I. 639—quan¬
tity of, in bodies, XI. 192—variations
of temperature, 195—doctrine of, now
advanced to rank of a science, I. 639
—views of Bacon, Aristotle, and the
alchemistson, 640—thermometers, ib.,
et/ seq.—Boerhaave’s views as to its
distribution, 642 — speculations of
Wolfius, ib.—Dr Martine the first .ju¬
dicious writer on, ib.—discovery of
congelation of quicksilver, 643—dis¬
covery of latent heat, 644—Leslie’s
observations on increase and diminu¬
tion of temperature by chemical union
of bodies, ib.—experiments of Wilcke
and Lavoisier, 645—introduction of
the term specific heat, ib.—determi¬
nation of the absolute zero, ib.—views
of Dr Crawford, ib.—experiments and
views of Scheele, 646—invention of
pyrometer, 647—good one still a desi¬
deratum, ib.— metallic and register
thermometers, ib.—differential ther¬
mometer, 648—applications of the hy¬
grometer, 650—elasticity of heat, 651
•—radiation of, 652—the pyroscojie,
653 — the refrigerator, ib.—change
produced in the mechanical arts by
the application of heat, 654—Papin’s
digester, ib.—gradual improvement
of the steam-engine, ib. — effect of
heat on the barometer, IV. 392, 393
—Dr Black’s discoveries respecting,
656; I. 644—reflection of, 652; V,
725—solar, 726; at different latitudes,
VI. 748—freezing point of mercury,
262—influence of heat on action of
chemical affinity, 357—capacity of air
for, at different degrees of rarity, 750
—is only light in a latent form, 756
—its propagation through solids, li¬
quids, and gases, 759 ; performed bj
tremulous pulses, ib.—cold the dimi¬
nution of, VII. 57—Wollaston’s cry-
ophorus, 504—property of some bo¬
dies of becoming electrical by heat,
VIII. 571, 595—its influence on the
electric fluid in metals, 599—evolu¬
tion of, by electricity, 626i; XXI. 677
—its effect on fluidity, XII. 5; and
on the motion of fluids, 75—its rela¬
tions to air, 114—latent heat of aque¬
ous vapour, 129—Leslie on XIII.
245—refraction of, 332—its relation
to light, 334—its influence on mag¬
netism, 690, 693, 716—connexion
between the heat and magnetism of
the earth, 695—its effect on bodily
strength, XIV. 429—death from, 499—
its effect on the health of bakers, &c.,
510—sensation of, 608; XVII. 662-
heat of the lunar and stellar rays,
XIV. 717—utility of the thermome¬
ter in improving the philosophy of,
724—temperature of the earth’s sur¬
face and interior, XV. 175—hinting
IN D E X.
75
HEA—HEI
power of the solar spectrum, XVI.
419—production of double refraction
by, 499—means of counteracting its
effect on pendulums, XVII. 213—
latent, 449 ; XX. 572, 601—thermal
springs, XVII. 528 ; XX. 550—heat
of animals, XVII. 647 — of elastic
fluids, XX. 485—elastic force of steam
at different temperatures, 577—ca¬
pacity for, 600—specific, ib.—Count
Rumford’s experiments on, XXI. 247
—of plants at the period of fecunda¬
tion, 583—its influence in voltaic
combinations, 695. See Boiling,
Burning-Glasses, Climate, Cold, Con¬
gelation, Dew, Evaporation, Latent
Heat, Pyrometer, Radiation, Reflec¬
tion, Steam, Temperature, Thermome¬
ter, Thermo-Electricity, Warming.
Heath (James), historian, XI. 198.
 breed of sheep, II. 329.
Heaths, culture of, XI. 686.
Heath’s polytypes, XVIII. 568.
Heathcoate’s lace-frame, VII. 410.
Heather, favourable for the rearing of
bees, IV. 535.
Heathfield Lord.) See Elliot.
Heaven, XI. 198—phenomena of the
heavens, III. 754. See Astronomy.
Hobble and Calder navigation, XVI. 9.
Hebdomadakv, XI. 198.
Hebdomarics, VIII. 392.
Hebdome, Greek solemnity, XI. 198.
Hebe, goddess, XI. 198.
Heber, a Jew, XI. 198.
 (Reginald), bishop of Calcutta,
XL 193—on the Hindus, 394, et seq.—
his account of Kemaou, XII. 688-9
of Oude, XVI. 673-4.
Heberden (William), physician, XI. 199
—on mortality, XV. 515, 521.
Hebertists, X. 85.
Hebrew, XI. 199—origin of the word,
XVII. 361—accents, II. 84—alpha¬
bet, 548 ; XVII. 364—vowels and
Mh sore tie points, ib.—Bibles, IV. 613
—characters, XL 199, 200—poetry,
XVIII. 146. See Jews.
 — LANGUAGE, XL 200 ; XIII. 83 ;
XIX. 781, 786—originally identical
with the Chaldaic, XVII. 360, 373—
its nature and genius, 360—prior to
the Chaldaie, ib.—its excellence, 366.
Hebrides, XL 201—confounded with
Hyperboreans, II. 10—cattle of, 323
—sheep, 330—pigs, 3'38—fisheries, IX.
602—geology, XIX. 749.
 (New), islands, XL 204.
Hebron, XL 204 ; XVI. 741.
Hebrus, Thracian river, XL 204.
Hecat.eus, XL 204.
Hecate, goddess, XI. 204.
Hecatesia, Greek festival, XL 204.
Hecatomb, sacrifice, XL 205.
Hecatomb^eon, month, XL 205.
Hecatompolis, XI. 205.
Hechingen, German city, XL 205.
Hecla (Mount), XII. 146. *
Hector, Trojan warrior, Xl. 205—cha¬
racter of, XVIII. 149.
Hecuba, wife of Priam, XL 205.
Hedeliu on Homer, XL 542.
Hedge trees and shrubs, XVII. 785.
Hedges in farms, II. 274.
Hedgehog, XIV. 102—cantharides eaten
by, III. 166—hybernation of, 167—
stores up food, 168.
Hedingham Castle, XL 205.
Hedjaz, III. 324, et seq.
Hedon, in Yorkshire, XL 205.
Hedwig (John), XI. 205—on the villi
of the ileum, II. 816—on vegetable
anatomy, III. 42, et se?.—his botani¬
cal labours, V. 80.
Hedychrum, insect, IX. 227.
Heelbone, II. 791, 792.
Heeren (Prof.), XL 498—on the course
of civilization in Egypt, III. 411—on
the Pelasgi, 413—on the Ethiopians,
IX. 379, et seq.
Hegeter, insect, IX. 163.
Hegira, XI. 206; VI. 661.
Heicet^, VIII. 561.
HEI— HEL
Heidelberg, XL 206 -plundered by-
Count Tilly, II. 569.
Heidenheim, XI. 206.
Heights, mensuration of, XIV. 563 ; in
the trigonometricalsurvey, XXL 369.
See Barometrical Measurements.
Heilbron, in Wurtemberg, XL 206.
Heiligenstadt, XI. 207.
Heilsberg, Prussian city, XI. 207.
Heine, German poet, XVIII. 168.
Heineccius (John Gottlieb), XL 207.
Heinecker (Dr), on the dew-points at
Funchal, IV. 138.
Heinroth on insanity, XIV. 585, 586.
Heinse, his novels, XIX. 358.
Heinsius (Antony), XI. 207.
 (Daniel), XI. 208.
 (Nicholas), XI. 209.
Heir, XL 210—apparent and presump¬
tive, ib.; III. 293.
Heirship Moveables, XL 210.
Heister (Laurence), XL 210—qn sur¬
gery, XX. 829.
Heitersheim, XI. 210.
Helteus, insect, IX. 165.
Helai, Hindu village, XL 210.
Helcon, insect, IX. 222.
Helder, expedition to the, XXL 735.
Helena (St), island, XI. 210—Halley’s
voyage to, I. 542.
 , in mythology, XL 210.
 , empress, XVI. 754.
Helenin, VI. 476.
Helenus, son of Priam, XL 211.
Helepolis, war-machine, XL 211.
Heliades, sisters of Phaethon, XL 211.
Helirja, XL 211.
Helianthoida, zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Heliases, fish, XII. 176.
Heliast.*, Athenian judges, XI. 211.
Helicina, in conchology, XV. 348.
Helicoid Parabola, XI. 212.
Helicon, Greek mountain, XL 213.
 astronomer. III. 729.
Heliconius, insect, IX. 241.
Heligoland, islands, XI. 213.
Heliocentric, XL 213.
Heliocometes, XI. 213.
Heliodorus of Phoenicia, XL 213.
 , Greek antiquary, XII. 291.
 , Roman surgeon, XX. 824.
Heliogabalus, reign of, XIX. 410.
Heliometer, XL 213; Bouguer’s, V. 145.
Heliopolis, in Egypt, XI. 214 ; XVI.
339—in Syria; see Balbek.
Helioscope, in optics, XI. 214.
Heliostate, in optics, XL 214.
Heliotrope, XL 214; XV. 157 ; IV.
711—specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Heliotropieae, in botany, V. 122.
Helix, in geometry, XI. 214.
 , molluseum, XV. 348, 358, 373.
 > in Corinthian architecture, XI.
214 ; III. 467.
Hell, XL 214—views of the Mahom-
medans respecting, XIV. 36.
 (Father), his dispute with Mes-
mer, XIV. 7.
Hellanicus, historian, XL 214.
Hellas, XL 215 ; X. 751.
Helle, in fabulous history, XI. 215.
Hellebore, poisonous, XIV. 506.
Hellenes, XVII. 177.
Hellenism, XI. 215.
Hellenists, XL 215.
Hellenodicze, XL 215.
Hellespont, XL 215 ; VII. 623.
Hellot on dyeing, VIII. 297—hia pro¬
cess for dyeing black, 329.
Hellstedt, Prussian town, XL 215.
Hellwigia, insect, IX. 226.
Helm, XL 215. See Rudder.
Helmet, XI. 215—in heraldry, 257.
Helminthology, XI. 216—obscurity
of origin of intestinal worms, III.
162; XXL 992, 994, et seq. See
Worms.
Helmond, in the Netherlands* XL 227.
Helmont (John Baptist Van), XL 227.
Helmsley, in Yorkshire, XI. 228.
Helmstedt, German city, XL 228.
Helmund, river, XI. 228 ; II. 212.
Heloise, XL 228 ; II. 24.
HEL—HEN
Helomyza, insect, IX. 289.
Helophilus, insect, IX. 275.
Helophorus, insect, IX. 150.
Helopii, insects, IX. 166.
Helops, insect, IX. 166.
Heloptiius, insect, IX. 197.
Hslos, town in Laconia, XL 228.
Helostoma, fish, XII. 190.
Helotes, fish, XII. 169.
Helots, ancient Sjiartan slaves, XI.
228 ; XX. 526.
Helsingborg, Swedish city, XI. 228.
Helsingfors, in Russia, XL 228.
Helstone, town in Cornwall, XL 228.
Helvetia, XXL 42.
Helvetic, XI. 228.
Helvetii, XL 228; XXL 42.
Helvetius (Claude Adrian), XI. 223—
his extension to metaphysical sub¬
jects of Leibnitz’s law of continuity,
I. 135—on the origin of our ideas, 136
—on the inferiority of the souls of
brutes, 180—on modifications of ge¬
nius, 185—on memory, IV. 699—his
literary obligations to Diderot, VIII.
15—on the power of education, 439-
character of his work De VEsprit, ib.
Helvidians, heretics, XI. 229.
Helvine, in mineralogy, XV. 159.
Helvoetsluys, Dutch town, XI. 229.
Hematin, VI. 484; VIII. 311.
Hematite, a mineral, XV. 162; VI. 88.
Hematrophic organs, II. 818—in the
lower animals, III. 39.
Hembise (John de), XVI. 108.
Hemel-Hempsted, in Herts, XL 229.
Hemerobaptists, sect, XI. 229.
Hemerobini, insects, IX. 213.
Hemerobius, insect, IX. 213.
Hemerocallidese, in botany, V. 135.
Hemerodromi, XI. 229.
Hemerodromia, insects, IX. 270.
Hemerotrophis, XL 229.
Hemi, verbal prefix, XL 229.
Hemibolon, ancient weight, XI. 229.
Hemicardia, in conchology, XV. 341.
Hemicyole, XL 229.
Hemicyclium, XL 229.
Hemidactyli, reptiles, XIX. 147.
Hemiglyph, in architecture. III. 467.
Hemilepidotus, tish, XII. 174.
Hemina, Roman measure, XL 230.
Hemipalma, bird, XVI. 624.
Hemiptera, insects, IX. 59, 194.
Hemiramphus, fish, XII. 201.
Hemirhipus, insect, IX. 140.
Hemisphere, XI. 230.
Hemistich, in poetry, XI. 230.
Hemitone, in music, XI. 230.
Hemitripterus, fish, XII. 174.
Hemlock, poisonous, XVIII. 177.
Hemmau (Mr), his anchor, III. 105.
Hemmer (J. J.), on the electricity of
the human body, VIII. 609.
Hemp, XL 230 ; XVI. 49—culture of,
II. 294 ; in Chili, V. 532—Manilla
and Indian, XI. 230. See Flax, Rope.
Hempel’s filter, IX. 583.
Hemprich’s travels in Abyssinia, II. 58.
Hems, Syrian city, XI. 230.
Hemskerck (Egbert), XL 230.
Hen and Chickens, islands, XL 230.
Henault (Charles John Francis), a
French author, XI. 230.
Hendecagon, in geometry, XI. 231.
Henderson (Ebenezer), on Iceland, XII.
144,147.
Hendon, in Middlesex, XL 231.
Hened-Penny, XI. 231.
Hewery Isle, XI. 231.
Hemgist, V. 302.
Hengtcheou, Chinese city, XL 231.
Heniochas, constellation, XI. 231.
Henly-in-Arden, XI. 231.
Henley-on-Thames, XI. 231.
Henley (John), XL 232.
Henley’s electrical discharging-instru¬
ment, VIII. 649—his quadrant-elec¬
trometer, 657.
Hennebon, French city, XL 232.
Hennegau, in the Netherlands, XL 232.
Hennell on etherification, VI. 439.
Hennersdorf, Saxon city, XL 232.
HEN—HEP
Henniker (Sir F.), his account of Me-
hemmed Ali, VIII. 506, n.; and of Je¬
rusalem, XII. 545.
Hennin on numismatics, XII. 292.
Henoehius, fish, XII. 178.
Henops, insect, IX. 270.
Henoticum, edict of Zeno, XL 232.
Henricans, sect, XI. 232.
Henrietta (Queen), V. 309, 312.
Henriot, X. 90.
Henry I.of England, reign of, VIII. 714
—his character, 715.
  II., his treatment by Becket,
IV. 509—his residence in Dublin,
YIII. 236—his reign, 716—his inva¬
sion of Ireland, XII. 355.
 III., league of the barons against,
VII. 489—reign of, VIII. 723—cha¬
racter of, 725—his conduct towards
the Irish, XII. 356—the Forest Char¬
ter confirmed by, XX. 301—his en¬
couragement of Oxford University,
XXI. 493—his public instruments
relative to Cambridge University,
500.
 — IV., reign of, VIII. 731—duel¬
ling under, 253—navy of, XX. 216.
 V., reign of, VIII. 732—his in¬
vasion of France, X. 22—his navy,
XVI. 89; XX. 216.
  VI., reign of, VIII. 733—act
permitting the exportation of corn,
VII. 333.
 VII., the laws of, eulogised by
Bacon, I. 37—archery in his reign,
III. 399—his tomb, 423—reign, VIII.
739—character, 742—navy, XVI. 40
—shipping of England in his reign,
XX. 219—Oxford University, XXI.
494.
 VIIL, XL 233—his marriage to
Anne Boleyn, III. 195 ; IV. 739 ;
VII. 446—archery in his reign, III.
399, 401—the coin debased by, 709;
VII. 34.— distress thus occasioned,
334, n. I—his treatment of Becket’s
shrine and remains, IV. 509 — his
divorce from Queen Catherine, VII.
444-6—subsequent marriages, 446—
—religious persecutions, ib.—his title
of Defender of the Faith, 667—his¬
tory of his reign, VIIL 742 — his
character, 751—his Irish policy, XII.
362—his navy, XVI. 40—his share in
the Reformation, XIX. 91, 95—his
wars with Scotland, 719, et seq. —
shipping in his reign, XX. 220—Ox¬
ford University, XXL 494.
 I. of France, X. 12.
 II. of France, X. 31—killed at
a tournament, VIIL 252.
 III. of France, X. 33.
  IV. of France, XL 232—his
beard, IV. 472—Carew’s account of
him and his Court, VI. 140—reign
of, X. 33—troubled by some prophe¬
cies, XX. 812.
 IV. of Castille, XX. 497.
 V. of Germany, XII. 469.
 , Prince of Wales, son of James
the First, XL 235 ; V. 307.
 of Huntingdon, XI. 234.
 the Minstrel, XI. 234.
 (Philip), XI. 235.
 (Matthew), XL 235.
 (Dr Robert), XI. 235—his cha¬
racter as a historian, XIII. 21—on
ordeal, XVI. 521—Gilbert Stuart’s
abuse of, XX. 781.
 (Dr), on oil-gas, X. 359, 362—
his electro-magnet, XIII. 762 —his
eudiometer, XVII. 532—his galvanic
battery, XXI. 672—his galvanic expe¬
riments, 678 — his electro-magnetic
reciprocating apparatus, 687.
  (Tho.), XIV. 227—his experi¬
ments in bleaching, ib.; IV. 680, 631.
Henryson (Robert), poet, XL 237.
Henselius on Coptic, XI. 314.
Henwood (Mr), on pitching in ships,
XX. 244, note.
Hepatic, XL 239.
 duct, II. 817, See Liver,
76
INDEX
HEP—HER
Hepaticoe, in botany, V. 38, 133—repro¬
ductive organs of, 56.
Hepatoscopia, XI. 239.
Hepburn (John), XXI. 509.
Heph.mtia, Athenian festival, XI. 239.
Heph.®stio, XI. 239, 240.
Hephthemimekis, XI. 240.
Hepialtes, insect, IX. 245.
Hepialus, insect, IX. 245.
Heptachord, in poetry, XI. 240.
Heptagon, in geometry, XI. 240.
Heptagonal numbers, XI. 240.
Heptangitlar, in geometry, XI. 240.
Heptarchy, XI. 240—Saxon, VIII. 701.
Heptatremus, fish, XII. 237.
Heraceea, ancient city, XI. 240.
Heracleonitbs, sect, XI. 240.
Heracleopolis Magna, VIII. 545.
Heraclid*, XI. 240.
Heraceides, XI. 240, 241 ; XXI. 56.
Heraclitean philosophers, XVII. 481.
Heraclitus, XI. 241; XX. 439.
Heraclius, emperor, XI. 241.
Herald, XI. 241—College of Heralds,
VII. 69.
Heraldry, XI. 243.
Heraldus (Desiderius), XI. 261.
Heran’s polytypes, XVIII. 568.
Herault, in France, XI. 261.
Herb, in botany, XI. 261.
Herbaceous plants, XI. 261.
Herbage, in law, XI. 261.
Herbal, XI. 261.
Herbarium, V. 69.
Herbelot (Barthelemi D’), XI. 261.
Herbert (Edward), Lord Herbert of
Cherbury, XI. 261—anecdote of, VI.
616—his deistical works, VII. 679.
 — (Mary), XI. 261.
 (Sir Thomas), XI. 262.
 (William), Earl of Pembroke,
XI. 262.
Herbiers, French town, XI. 262.
Herbivorous animals, XI. 262—pecu¬
liarities of their organization, III.
159—seldom pair, 168—season of their
parturition, 169.
Herborn, German city, XI. 262.
Hercen on the Crusades, VII. 487-8.
Herculaneum, XI. 262 ; III. 419 ;
XV. 699, 708—-Academy of, II. 76-
papyri found in, VII. 642.
•— , in Missouri, XV. 304.
Hercules, XI. 270 —statue of, VIII.
182, and PI. 195—his war with An-
teeus, XIV. 330—mysteries of, XV.
668—Egyptian, VIII. 553.
• , constellation, XI. 272.
 (Pillars op), XI. 272.
Hercynia Silva, XT. 272.
Hereditary, XI. 272—transmission of'
disease in horses, &c., XI. 572—mon¬
strosities, XV. 422. See-Generation.
Herefop.d, English city, XI. 272—ca¬
nal to Gloucester, XVI. 14.
Herefordshire, XI. 272 — cattle of,
II. 323—sheep, 329—attempted iron
bridge in, V. 279.
Herepath and Cox, their patent process
of tanning, XXI. 76.
Heresy, XI. 274—capital punishment
of, approved of by Cranmer, VII. 447.
Heretic, XI. 275.
Heretochs, XI. 275.
Hereward, VIII. 713.
Herforden, Prussian city, XI. 275.
Hergest’s Islands, XI. 275.
Heriades, insects, IX. 233.
Heriot, in law, XI. 275.
Heriot’s Hospital, VIII. 424.
Herisau, Swiss town, XI. 275.
Herissant on cartilage, II. 747.
Herisson, in fortification, XI. 275.
Heritier’s (L’) botanical labours, V. 87.
Heriura, Hindu town, XI. 275.
Herm^a, Greek festivals, XI. 275.
Hermanfroi, X. 4.
Hermann (Paul), professor of botany
at Leyden, XI. 275 ; V. 87.
Hermann’s character of Gilbert Wake¬
field, VII. 546, n. 7.
 of Pavia, on the doctrine Conser*
ratio virium vivarum, VIII. 377.
HER
Hermanstadt, in Hungary, XI. 276.
Hermanus, X. 476.
Hermaphrodite animals, XI. 276; III.
157 ; XIV. 494—flowers, XI. 276.
Hermas, XI. 276.
Hermeias, III. 530.
Hermes, XI. 276.
 — (Egyptian), Hermes Trismegis-
tus, or Thoth, VIII. 552 ; XVII. 377,
429, 430; XVIII. 335—the reputed
inventor of chemistry, VI. 341—^in¬
scription of, ib.
Hermesianax, poet, XI. 276.
Hermetical Art, XI. 276—Philoso¬
phy—Medicine—Seal, 277.
Hermharpocrates, XI. 277.
Hermiani, heretics, XI. 277.
Herminia, insect, IX. 251.
Hermione, Greek city, XI. 277.
Hermit, XI. 277.
Hermitage, XI. 277.
Hermodorus, VI. 711.
Hermogenes, architect, XI. 277.
 Tarsensis, XI. 277.
 , Roman lawyer, VI. 713.
 (St), island, XI. 275.
Hermogenians, heretics, XI. 277.
Hermon (Mount), XI. 277 ; XVI. 743.
Hermoneura, insects, IX. 267.
Hermonthis, ruins of, VIII. 535.
Hermopolis, XI. 277—ruins of Hermo-
polis Magna, VIII. 544.
Hermus, river, XI. 277.
Hernandez on birds, XVI. 545.
Hernandiacese, in botany, V. 126.
Hernia, II. 703; XVII. 129—surgical
treatment of, XX. 840—in the domes¬
tic animals, XXI. 626.
Hernosand, Swedish town, XI. 277.
Hero, XI. 277—deification of ancient
heroes, XVIII. 334.
 , mathematician, XI. 277—his
thermometer, IV. 392—hydrodynami-
cal inventions of, XII. 1—his foun¬
tain, XVIII. 75 ; applied to the rais¬
ing of water from a mine, 135—his
steam-apparatus, XX. 611—editions
and translations of his Pneumatics,
613.
 the younger, XI. 277 ; X. 427.
Herod the Great, XI. 278 ; XII. 571,
etseq.; XVI. 751.
 =— Agrippa, II. 357.
 Antipas, III. 253.
Herodians, Jewish sect, XI. 278.
Herodianus, XI. 279.
Herodotus, XI. 279—on the Amazons,
II. 588—on India, 696-—archaeologi¬
cal value of his works, III. 262—on
Egyptian history, VIII. 460—urn Egypt,
510, 545, 550—on Egyptian embalm¬
ing, 676—on the Ethiopians, IX. 376.
Heroic, XI. 280—Heroic age—Heroic
poem—Heroic verse, ib.
Heroine, XI. 280.
Heron, bird, XVI. 618.
Herophilus, his anatomical knowledge,
II. 688 ; XVII. 725—his skill in sur¬
gery, XX. 822.
Herpestes, in zoology, XIV. 118.
Herpetodryas, serpent, XX. 140.
Herrara, XVII. 296.
Herrenberg, a city in Wurtemberg,
XI. 280.
Herrera Tordesillas (Antonio de),
Spanish historian, XI. 280.
■  (Ferdinand de), XI. 281 —
poetry of, XVIII. 163.
Herrick, poetry of, XVIII. 170.
Herring, XI. 281; XII. 214; IX. 592
—quantity of herrings cured in and
exported from England, VIII. 770.
Herring-fishery of the Baltic, IV. 326—
Britain, IX. 596—Caithness, V. 781
—Donegal, VIII. 113—England, 769
—Ireland, XII. 409—Scotland, XIX.
770. See Fisheries.
Herring (Thomas), XI. 281.
Herrnhuth, in Saxony, XI. 281.
Herrnhutters, XV. 490; XXI. 449.
Hcrschel (Sir J. F. W.), on amrora bo¬
realis, IV. 202—on the cause of the
rolling of thunder, VHI. 619 — on
HER—HEW
magnetism, XIII. 694, 713—on me¬
chanical power from coal, XIV. 438
—his doublet microscopes, XV. 34,
35—his optical discoveries, XVI. 372,
488—on optics, 396, 397, 410, 421,
436, 446, 450, 485, 493, 494—on po¬
larisation of light, XVIII. 243.
Herschel (Sir William), XI. 281 —-his
astronomical discoveries, I. 672 ; III.
747 ;IV. 34—on the solar spots and at¬
mosphere, III. 7 8 3— on the planet Mars,
IV. 28—on Saturn and his ring, 33, 34
—on the fixed stars, 43,44, 46—on ne¬
bulas, 47—on heat, XI. 183—on the
prismatic spectrum, XIII. 332 ; I.
636—his micrometers, XV. 20, 22—
his telescopes, XVI. 363; I. 673—on
optics, XVI. 419, 433.
 , planet, XI. 283. See Uranus.
Herschelite, specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Herse, in fortification, XI. 283.
Hersfeld, German province, XI. 283.
Hersillon, in military art, XI. 283.
Herstat, in the Netherlands, XI. 283.
Hertford, XI. 283—College, ib.—
Union Canal, XVI. 14.
Hertfordshire, XI. 284.
Hertha, XI. 285.
Heruli, XIX. 423.
Hervert’s Tables of the powers and pro¬
ducts of numbers, I. 590.
Hervey (James), XI. 285.
Herzberg, town in Hanover, XI. 286.
Hesdin, French city, XI. 286.
Hesiod, XI. 286—poems of, XVIII. 150.
—on the gods, 335, 340.
Hesione, in mythology, XI. 286.
 , worm, XI. 220.
Hesper, or Hesperus, star, XI. 286.
Hesperia, insect, IX. 243.
Hesperides, nymphs, XI. 286—gardens
. of the, II. 238.
Hesperidin, VI. 469.
Hesperidium, in botany, V. 49.
Hesperidum Insult, XI. 286.
Hesperi-sphinges, insects, IX. 243.
Hesperus, XI. 287.
Hesse, or Hesso-Cassel, XI. 287—coins
of, XV. 410—commercial league with
Prussia, XVIII. 687 — weights and
measures of, XXL 853.
Hesse ^Parmstadt, weights and measures
of, XXI. 853.
Hesse-Homburg, XI. 288.
Heston, in Middlesex, XI. 288.
Hesychius, ancient Greek grammarian,
XI. 288.
Heteriarch, Greek officer, XI. 288
Heterobranchia, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Heterobranchus, fish, XII. 202.
Heterocerus, insect, IX. 150.
Heteroclite, in grammar, XI. 288.
Heterodisca, in conchology, XV. 349.
Heterodon, serpent, XX. 138.
Heterodontes, in zoology, XIV. 181.
Heterodox, in theology, XI. 288.
Heterogeneity, in physics, XI. 288.
Heterogeneous, XI. 288 — Light —
Nouns—Quantities—Surds, 289.
Heterogyna, insects, IX. 227.
Heteromera, insects, IX. 162.
Heteromyza, insect, IX. 289.
Heteroneura, insects, IX. 290.
Heteropoda, Crustacea, VII. 501.
 , birds, XVI. 624.
Heteroptera, insects, IX. 195.
Heterosch, XI. 289 ; X. 409.
Heterotarsus, insect, IX. 165.
Hetruria. See Etruria.
Hettowra, Hindu town, XI. 289.
Heulandite, a mineral, XV. 151.
Heusden, in the Netherlands, XI. 289.
Hevelius (John), XI. 289—opposed the
application of the telescope to astro¬
nomical instruments, I. 497 — his
astronomical labours, III. 741—con¬
stellations added by, IV. 42—on the
cometary orbits, VII. 137.
Hewet (Andrew), VII. 446.
Hewson (William), XI. 289—on the
lymphatics, II. 703, 729—on the villi
of the ileum, 816—on the blood,
XVII. 634, 635.
HEX—HIL
Hexa-carbo-hydrogen, VI. 372.
Hexachord, in music, XI. 289.
Hexagon, XI. 289.
Hexahedron, in geometry, XI. 289—
in mineralogy, XV. 121.
Hexameter, in poetry, XI. 289.
Hexapla, XI. 289.
Hexastyle, XI. 290 ; III. 467.
Hexatoma, insect, IX. 266.
Hexham, XI. 290—bridge of, V. 270—
battle, of, VIII. 736.
Hexodon, insect, IX. 157.
Heydon (John), XI. 290.
Heylin (Dr Peter), XI. 290.
Heyling (Peter), his visit to Abyssinia,
II. 53.
Heyne (C. G.), XI. 290—on the ab¬
surdities of mythists. III. 258—on
diamonds, VIII. 4, 5 — on Homer,
XI. 543, 548—his improvement of the
library of Gottingen, XIII. 313.
Heysham (Dr), parish-registers kept by,
XV. 518.
Heytesbury, in Wilts, XI. 292.
Heywood (John), poet, XI. 292.
 (Mrs), novels of, XIX. 335.
Hezronita (John), his translation of
Edrisi’s Geography, VIII. 432.
Hiatella, in conchology, XV. 341.
Hiatus, XI. 292.
Hibbert (Dr S.),on apparitions, III. 302
—on vitrified forts, IX. 759.
Hicetas of Syracuse, XI. 292.
Hickes (George), XI. 292.
Hicksite Quakers, XVIII. 772.
Hidage, XI. 293.
Hidalgo, XI. 293.
  (Don Miguel), his proceedings
in Mexico, XIV. 782—executed, 784.
Hides, XI. 293—currying of, VII. 556
—imports of, VIII. 777—tanning of,
XXI. 74.
Hidjellee, Hindu town, XI. 293.
Hiempsal, XVI. 305.
Hieracites, heretics, XI. 293.
Hierapolis, Phrygian town, XI. 293.
Hierarchy, XI. 293.
Hieres, islands, XI. 365.
Hiero I„ king of Syracuse, XXI. 55.
 II., king of Syracuse, XXI. 57.
Hierocles, XI. 293.
Hieroglyphics, Egyptian, XI. 294 ; II.
540; IV. 774 ; XII. 290; XIII. 253;
XVII. 376—Sir Wm. Drummond on,
VIII. 216—the Egyptian Society’s en¬
gravings of, 560—Mexican, II. 623 —
Chinese, XVII. 390—effect of hierogiy-
phic writing on mythology, XV. 675.
Hjeromancy, XI. 365.
Hieromnemon, XI. 365.
Hieronymus of Syracuse, XXI. 57.
Hierophantes, XI. 365.
Hierophylax, XI. 365.
Higgin&:(G.) on the Pelasgi, III. 413-14.
High, XI. 365; VIII. 11.
 Places, XI. 365.
Higham-Ferrers, XI. 365.
Highgate, near London, XI. 365.
Highlands of Scotland, XIX. 745—
ponies, II. 317—cattle, 323—pigs, 338
—the second sight, III. 304; XX. 70—
favourable for rearing bees, IV. 535
—tranquillizing measures after the re¬
bellion of 1745, V. 383 —emigration
from, VIII. 688, 690-roads in, XIX.
750. See Perthshire &c.
Highland Society of Scotland, VIII. 420
—its veterinary school, IV. 378.
Highlander, XI. 365.
Highmore (Joseph), painter, XI. 365.
   on the lacteals, II. 698.
Highness, title, XI. 366.
Highw ay, XI. 365.
Highwaymen, XI. 365.
Highworth, town in Wilts, XI. 366.
High-Wycombe, XXI. 952.
Hija, Spanish city, XI. 366.
Hilara, insect, IX. 269.
Hilaria, Roman feasts, XI. 366.
Hilarius, Christian father, XI. 366.
Hilarodi, Greek poets, XI. 366.
Hilary (St), in Jersey, XI. 366.
 , bishop of Aries, whether the
HIL—HIP
author of the Athanasian Creed, IV.
113.
Hilary, Oxford term, XXI. 498.
Hilbukghausen, XI. 366.
Hildanus (F.), on surgery, XX. 829.
Hildebrande on electricity, VIII. 583.
Hiedesheim, iu Hanover, XI. 366-7.
Hill (Aaron), XI. 367 ; XXI, 249.
 (Sir John), XI. 367.
 (Dr), on vegetable anatomy. III.
44, et seq.—mi botany, V. 83.
 (Rowland), his post-office re¬
form, XVIII. 495—his printing-ma¬
chine, 572.
Hillah, XI. 367 ; IV. 267.
Hillel, Jewish patriarch, XVII. 140.
Hilton Castle, VIII. 291.
Hilum, in botany, V. 50.
Hilveesum, XI. 367.
Himsera, VI. 184, 185; XV. 700.
Himalaya Mountains, XI. 368 ; III.
673 ; XI. 374; XVI. 95—heights of,
XVII. 505, 506.
Himilco, navigator, XI. 372.
 , senator, XI. 372; VI. 186.
Himantopus, bird, XVI. 625.
Himera, VI. 184, 185 ; XV. 700.
Hin, Hebrew measure, XI. 372.
Hinckley, in Leicester, XI. 372.
Hindia, in Hindustan, XI. 372.
Hindon, town in Wilts, XI. 372.
Hindone, Hindu town, XI. 372.
Hindsham, III. 126.
Hindu Coosh, XI. 37° ; II. 211.
Hindus, XI. 393—probably the inventors
of algebra, II. 421—their writers on
that science, 425 — their mathema¬
tical knowledge, 425; X. 428—archi¬
tecture, III. 408, 433, 471—invented
the denary numerals, 539—their cha¬
racter, 693; XI. 394—astronomy, III.
725; VII. 681; XVII. 427—Banians,
IV. 346 — Battles, 449 — Bazeegurs,
468—jugglers, 469—Bengalese, 570
—Bheels, 610—Goands, 730—Bogals,
ib.—Brahmins, V. 175—castes, 176;
VI. 223 ; VII. 395—sacred literature,
V. 179—calendar, VI. 263—invented
chess, 518—differehtfrom the Chinese,
VI. 549—their chronology, 664—my¬
thology, VII. 698 ; XV. 677 ; XVIII.
336—the Jains, XII. 495—Jauts, 526
—Kookies, 7 57—their fabulous chro¬
nology, 588—of Malabar, XIV. 50—
languages, XIII. 81; XVII. 383 —
physics, 427—ethics, 428 —animal
worship, XVIII. 839-belief in a su¬
preme God, 341—their Vedas or sacred
books, XXI. 565 —loom, 824 —the
Zend, 984. See Buddha, Shaster,
Bheels, Brahmins, &c.
Hindustan, XI. 373. See India.
Hingham, in Norfolk, XI. 466.
Hinging of doors, XII. 614.
Hinnom (Valley of), XI. 466.
Hinzuan, island, XL 466.
Hip, in botany, V. 48.
Hip, muscles of the, II. 793. ,
Hip-joint, II. 791—sprain of, in cattle,
XXL 618.
Hippakchus, XI.466—his contributions
to astronomy, I. 482; III. 730, 767
—on geography, X. 393.
Hippias and Hipparchus, IV. 148-9.
Hippobosca, insect, IX. 292.
Hippocampus, in anatomy, II. 808.
 , fish, XII. 227.
Hippocastanem, in botany, V. 102.
Hippocentaub, XI. 467.
Hippocrateaceae, in botany, V. 102.
Hippocrates, physician, XI. 467—not
distinguished as an anatomist, II. 685
works erroneously ascribed to, 686
—on bathing, IV. 444, 447—character
and doctrines of, XVII. 724—his sur¬
gical skill, XX. 821—his candour,
823, note 2.
- of Chios, mathematician, X. 423;
XIV. 314—Lune of, XX. 552.
Hippocbene, fountain, XI. 467.
Hippodkome, XI. 467.
Hippoglocsus, fish, XII. 220.
Hippolyte (St), French city, XI. 467.
INDEX.
77
HOP—HOB
Hippolytus, XL 467.
Hippomanes, poison, XI. 468.
Hipponax, Greek poet, XI. 468.
Hippopodes, XI. 468.
Hippopotamus, XIV. 148; II. 227—its
ivory, III. 32—its stomach, 35.
Hippopus, in conchology, XV. 343.
Hippurites, in conchology, XV. 345.
Hircic acid, VI. 430.
Hircine, VI. 443.
Hibcus, fixed star, XI. 468.
Hire (Philip de La), XI. 468—on dial¬
ling, VII. 760—his pump, XII. 97 —
on magic squares, XIII. 682—on the
teeth of wheels, XIV. 352.
Hiring, Mosaic law of, XV. 566.
Hikschbeeg, Prussian city, XI. 468.
Hibtius (Aulus), XI. 468.
Hirudo, worm, XI. 223.
Hirundo, bird, XVI. 577.
Hispa, insect, IX. 182.
Hispania, XI. 469.
Hispaniola, or St Domingo. See Do¬
mingo (St), Hayti.
Hissab Ferozeh, XI. 469.
Hister, insect, IX. 147.
Histeroides, insects, IX. 147.
Histiophoms, fish, XII. 184.
Historian, labours of, VII. 319—quali¬
ties of, XI. 497.
Historical painting, III. 655.
 Plays, VIII. 155.
Histoby, XI. 469—Academies of, II.
75—modern scepticism with respect
to ancient, III. 265—uncertainty of
early, VI. 652 chronicles of the
middle ages, VII. 495—Dr Johnson
on, 602—civil, XI. 469—ecclesiastical,
486—composition of, 497 ; V. 610—
utility of inscriptions with reference to,
XII. 293—utility of medals, XIV. 463.
 (Natural), XV. 738. See Natu¬
ral History.
Histbio, XI. 499.
Hit, Arabian village, XI. 499.
Kitchen, town in Herts, XI. 499.
Hitches in collieries, VII. 72.
Hittites, XI. 499.
Hitu, XVII. 161.
Hive, XI. 499; IV. 521,524, 534—venti¬
lation of hives, 522—temperature of, ib.
Hivites, Canaanites, XI. 499.
Hoadly (Ben.), bishop, XI. 499—on the
Lord’s Supper, XX. 817.
 (Ben.), junior, XI. 500.
Hoain-Gan-Foo, Chinese city, XI. 500.
Hoangho, river, XI. 500 ; XXI. 959.
Hoarding, analysis of the principle of,
I. 366. See Avarice.
Hoard’s rope-machine, XIX. 466.
Hoar-frost, VII. 748; X. 238—Dr P.
Wilson on, VII. 752.
Hoarseness, XI. 500.
Hobal, Arabian idol, XI. 500.
Hobbes (Thomas) XI. 500 — philoso¬
phical, political, and ethical princi¬
ples of, I. 40-42, 144, 319—Addison’s
opinion of his writings, 42 — their
extensive influence, 43, 317—his an¬
tagonists, ib, 323 ; VII. 539, n. 3—co¬
incidence between his followers and
the Antinomians, I. 44—-on the com¬
parative utility of reading and think¬
ing, 45—his principles traced by Cud-
worth to the remains of the ancient
sceptics, ib.—on the law of nations,
90—on the origin of our knowledge,
114—on necessity, 268 — his early
studies and works, 317—his arrogance
and dogmatism, 241, 318, 322—excel¬
lent style, 318—does not distinguish
between thought and feeling, 320—no
trace of the moral sentiments to be
found in his writings, 322—his low
estimate of human nature agreeable
to the court of Charles II., ib.—anec¬
dote relative to his Leviathan, 241—
on the sequence of ideas, VIII. 436—
on laughter, XIII. 121, 123—on the
source of wealth, XVIII. 273—on the
quadrature of the circle, XX. 553.
Hobby, bird, XVI. 565.
Hobgoblin, XI. 501.
HOB—HOL
Hobhouse (Sir John), on the reign of
Selim, III., XXI. 414, 415.
Hoblers, XI. 501.
Hob-Nail, XI. 501.
Hob-Nob, or Hab-Nab, XI. 501.
Hobson (Captain), XXI. 981, et seq.
Hobson’s Choice, XI. 501.
Hoccleve, poetry of, IX. 41.
Hocco, bird, XVI. 605.
Hoche (General), V. 480.
Hochheim, German town, XI. 501.
Hochou, Chinese city, XI. 501.
Hochstedt, in Bavaria, XI. 502.
Hockhocking, XVI. 326.
Hocus Pocus, XI. 502.
Hod, XI. 502.
Hoddesdon, in Hertford, XI. 502.
Hodges (Mr), on the bad effect of erect¬
ing cottages, VII. 393.
Hodgkin on the Greek alphabet, II. 546.
 (Dr), on the animal tissues,
XVII. 596—on the muscles, 609.
Hodgson on aneurism, XVII. 482, 483.
Hodman, XI. 502.
Hodnet, town in Salop, XI. 502.
Hody (Humphrey), XI. 502.
Hoe, XI. 502—horse-hoe, II. 268.
Hoesen’s burning-mirrors, V. 735.
Hof, in Bavaria, XI. 502.
Hoftman (M.), on births and deaths in
Prussia, XV. 536.
Hoffman’s polytypes, XVIII. 567.
Hoffmann (John James), Swiss philo¬
logist, XI. 502.
 — (Fred.), physician, XL 502—on
the nervous system, XIV. 581—on
physiology, XVII. 729—on diabolic
agency, XX. 813 — on witchcraft,
XXI. 908.
 , botanist, V. 80.
 , novelist, XIX. 357.
Hoffmanists, sect, XI. 503.
Hoffmanswaldau, poetry of, XVIII. 167.
Hofgeismar, German city, XI. 503.
Hofwyl, Mr Fellenberg’s establishments
at, XXL 50.
Hog, XIV. 149 — its structure, XVII.
707—American, II. 656—Irish, XII.
407.
Hog-styes, II. 272.
Hog Isle, XI. 503.
Hogarth (William), XI. 503—his line
of beauty, III. 442—his merits as a
painter, III. 650 ; XVI. 726—taken
into custody at Calais, XXL 550.
Hogging of ships, XX. 285, 286—plans
for preventing, 291.
Hoggry, Hindu river, XL 506.
Hogshead, measure, XL 506.
Hogue (La), French cape, battle of, V.
366; XIX. 457.
Hogyesk, Hungarian town, XI. 506.
Hohenelbe, Bohemian town, XL 506.
Hohengeroldseck, XL 506.
Hohenkirchen, battle of, XVIII. 676.
Hohenlinden, battle of, X. 120; XV.
497.
Hohenstein, in Saxony, XI. 506.
Hohenzollern-Hechingen, XI. 506.
Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, XL 506.
Hohnstein, in Hanover, XL 506.
Hoist and Hoisting, XL 506.
Hokeday, XI. 506, 507.
Holbach (Baron d’),the probable author
of the Systeme de la Nature, I. 181—
his character of, and connexion with,
Diderot, VIII. 15, 16.
Holbeach, in Lincoln, XL 507.
Holbein (Hans), XL 507—woodcuts of
his Dance of Death, XXI. 917.
Holberg, VII. 731.
Holcus arundinaceus, XVI. 293.
Hold of a ship, XL 507.
Holder (William), XL 507.
Holdsworth (Edward), XI. 508.
Holdsworthy, in Devon, XI. 508.
Holegu-Ilecou-Khan, a patron of astro¬
nomy, III. 735.
Holepta, insect, IX. 147.
Holeschau, in Austria, XI. 508.
Holibut, fish, XTI. 220.
Holiness, XI. 508.
Holinshed (Raphael), XI. 508—tirade
HOL
in his Chronicles against modern lux¬
ury, XIII. 603.
Holkar, XL 434, et seq.
Holland, XL 509—poor colonies of, II.
347—achievement of its independence,
578 — policy in Amboyna and the
Banda Islands, II. 596 ; IV. 340 
army, III. 611—painters, 649; XVI.
721—discoveries in New Holland, IV.
204, et seq.—bleaching, 679—botan¬
ists, V. 81—bricks, 258—wars with
Britain, V. 336, 338, 343, 347, 416 
political movements in 1784, 446 
invaded by the Duke of Brunswick,
447—invaded by the British in 1799,
489 ; X. 114—discussions in the Bri¬
tish Parliament on that expedition,
V. 494—colonies, VII. 126 ; in the
West Indies, II. 648; the Banda
Islands, IV. 340; Brazil, V. 191; Ce¬
lebes, VI. 270; Ceylon, 304-5—com¬
merce, VII. 158 ; with the East Indies,
III. 701; Berbice, IV. 580 ; England,
VIII. 779 ; Japan, XII. 520 ; Java,
531—mercantile policy, VII. 164—
sources of commercial prosperity,
169—short credit, 170—corn-trade,
363—battle of Camperdown, V. 482 ;
X.107; VIII. 277—drifting sands, 678-
9—fisheries, IX. 590, 600, 733—con¬
duct of the French towards, X. 39,-42
—conquered by them in 1794, V. 475;
X. 93, 94—no usury-laws, XII. 326
—language, XIII. 85—libraries, 314
—variation of the needle, 733—coins,
XV. 407, 410—population, 514, 515
inland navigation, XVI. 4, 5—under
the French, XVI. 125—loss cf Bel¬
gium, 137—newspapers, 173—irrup¬
tions of the sea, XVII. 511—prisons,
XVIII. 584—religion, XIX. 315—rise
of naval power, XX. 224—surgeons,
829 — stamp-duties first levied in,
XXI. 116—weights and measures,
XXI. 853—the Dutch and Belgians
compared, XVI. 112—maps of Hol¬
land, XL PI. 287 ; XVI. PI. 380. See
Netherlands.
 (New), XL 533. See New Holland.
 , a kind of linen, XL 533—ma¬
nufacture of, VIII. 51.
 (Sir John), VI. 609.
   (Philemon), XL 508—his trans¬
lation of Camden, VI. 35.
 (Dr), his account of the Ionian
Islands, XII. 340, et seq.
   (Mr), on the usury-laws, XII. 325.
  (Lord), VIII. 266—on a peace
with France in 1800, V. 491—his op¬
position to the union with Ireland,
493—his Life of Lope de Vega, VIII.
156 — on the extravagances of the
early plays, ib.
Hollandus (John Isaac), on sal-ammo¬
niac, II. 660—on chemistry, VI. 344.
Hollar (Wenceslaus), XI. 533.
Holloa, XI. 533.
Holly, XVII. 785, 787.
Holly-hock, its stem. III. 82.
Holm, XI. 533.
Holman’s account of the island of Mada¬
gascar, XIII. 666.
Holms, islands, XL 533.
Holocanthus, fish, XII. 179.
Holocaust, XI. 533.
Holocentrum, fish, XII. 170.
Holofernes, XL 533.
Hologbaphum, in law, XL 534.
Holopo'dius, bird, XVI. 625.
Holothuria, zoophyte, XXL 1001 —
structure of, XVII. 722.
Holothurida, zoophytes, XXL 1001.
Holstein, XL 534 ; VII. 726.
Holt, XL 535.
 (Sir John), XI. 534.
Holwell (Mr), V. 791.
Holy Alliance, XI. 485 ; XIX. 561—
secession of Great Britain from the,
V. 558.
 Brotherhood, XX. 498.
 Ghost, XI. 535 — blasphemy
against, IV. 675—person and work of
the, XXI. 232. See Trinity.
78
INDEX,
HOM—HON
Holt Island, XI. 535; XVI. 253.
Holy war, XVII. 450. . See Crusades.
Holthead, in Anglesey, XI. 535.
Holydays, their utility. III. 257.
Holyrood, abbey of, VIII. 417—sanc¬
tuary of, XIX. 758.
Holt-Hood Dat, XI. 535.
Holtwell, XI. 535 ; IX. 622 ; XVII.
527—St Winifred’s well, XI. 196.
Holzminden, German city, XL 535.
Homalinese, in botany, V. 128.
Homalopsis, serpent, XX. 142.
Homalura, insect, IX. 288.
Homberg, in Germany, XI. 536.
 (William), chemist, XI. 535—
his arajometer, III. 872.
Hombdrg, XI. 536, 288.
Home Castle, Berwickshire, IV. 598.
Home (Sir Everard), XI. 541—on the
spleen, II. 727—on the brain, 737—
on mucous membrane, 752—on the
tongue of the giraffe. III. 27—his
work on Comparative Anatomy, 40—
on latent calculous disease, XVII.
479—on the difficulty of discriminat¬
ing diseases, 485.
 (Dr F.), on bleaching, IV. 679.
 (Henrt), Lord Karnes, XI. 536
—his Elements of Criticism, I. 221—
his plan for improving themoss of Kin¬
cardine, II. 313 —on agricultural leases,
344—on the pairing ofanimals,III.168
—on the old Roman law against bank¬
rupts, VI. 711—on the diversity of hu¬
man complexion, VII. 192—011 Lord
Stair’s Institutes, 601—his discussion
with Dr Doig, VIII. 91—on emotion
and passion, 692—on the feudal law
in Scotland, IX. 527, n. 10—on love
among savages, XIII. 577—on the
distinctive qualities of the sexes, ib.
—on diversity of languages, XIV. 203
—on liberty and necessity, 689 — on
novelty, XVI. 291—on the sense of
Deity, XVIII. 330—on the ridiculous,
XIX. 239 — his friendship towards
Smellie, XX. 401—Tytler’s Life of,
XXL 444.
■ (John), XI. 537 ; IX. 511—his
tragedy of Douglas, VIII. 176.
Homer, XL 541 ; XVII. 404, 407—
Were letters known in his time ? II.
551 — archeological value of his
works. III. 262—Bryant’s opinions
concerning, V. 619—Dr Clarke’s edi¬
tion of the Iliad, VI. 730—Eusta¬
thius’s Commentaries on, IX. 422—
his geographical knowledge, XII. 345
—Foulis’s edition of, XV. 448—his
anatomical knowledge, XVII. 724 —
poetry of, XVIII. 144,148—criticisms
on, XX. 185, n. 1—translations of,
into English, V. 590 ; VII. 316,438;
XVIII. 395, 399 ; Italian, VI. 297;
French, XII. 508—Homeric hymns,
XVIII. 151.
 , or Omer, a Jewish measure, XI.
549; VII. 381.
Homicide, XL 549 ; XIV. 497 —its
punishment in China, VI. 557.
Homildown, battle of, VI. 606—archers
present on that occasion, III. 398.
Homily, XI. 549—Clementine Homi¬
lies, ib.
Homobranchia, Crustacea, VII. 500.
Homogeneous, XI. 549.
Homologation, in law, XI. 549.
Homologous, in geometry, XL 549.
Homoptera, insects, IX. 200.
Hondekooter (Melchior), XI. 549.
Honduras, XL 549; XVII. 18.
Hone, XI. 552—sp. gr. of, XII. 31.
Honey, XL 552—ants fond of, III. 242
—Greek, X. 728—specific gravity of,
XH. 31. See Apiary, Bee.
Honey-hees, IX. 237.
Honey-combs, IV. 525 — duration of,
531—construction of, XII. 298.
Honey-guide, bird, XVI. 598.
Honey-stone, XV. 171—specific gravity
of, XII>. 31.
Hondschoote, French town, XL 552.
Honfleur, French city, XI. 552.
HON—HOR
Honiton, in Devonshire, XI. 552.
Honoriaci, XI. 552.
Honorius, Roman emperor, VII. 280;
XIX. 420.
  III. (Pope), his persecution of
the Albigenses, XII. 285.
Honour, XL 552—remarks on the law
of, I. 375 ; VIII. 254.
Honours, academical, at the University
of Oxford, XXI. 498.
Honourable, XI. 553.
Hood (Admiral), V. 417.
  (Lieut.), on aurora borealis in
North America, IV. 196, 201.
 (Robin), XI. 553.
 , in Falconry, XI. 553.
Hood’s Island, XI. 553.
Hoofed animals, II. 708.
Hooghly, XI. 553—river, 554.
Hook, fishing, III. 144.
Hooks, XI. 554—in ship-building, XX.
284, 291.
Hook-pins, XI. 554.
Hookah, XI. 554.
Hooke (Nathaniel), XI. 556.
 (Robert), XI. 554—his opposi¬
tion to the optical discoveries of
Newton,!. 551—on the earth’s annual
motion, II. 32—on vegetable anatomy,
III. 42, etseq.—his principle of arches,
380—on gravitation, IV. 175 ; I. 559
—on pneumatics, IV. 889—ids baro¬
meter, 390 — his improvements on
clocks, VI. 767, 769 ; I. 479—on the
fusee of watches, 787 —his watch-
springs, 789 ; I. 479—on lamps, XIII.
44—on magnetism, XIII. 687—his
universal joint, XIV. 447—his micro¬
meter, XV. 11—on optics, XVI. 361,
427—his air-pump, XVIII. 81—his
discovery of the law of nature, ut Un-
sio sic vis, XX. 751—on the strength
of materials, 763—description of his
telegraph, XXI. 137.
Hooker, or Vowell (John), XI. 556.
 (Richard), divine, XI. 557.
  (Sir William), notice of the bo¬
tanical works of, V. 86, n. 2.
Hookery, Hindu town, XL 557.
Hoolaiva, island, XL 557.
Hoole (John), XI. 557.
Hooly Onore, Hindu town, XI. 558.
Hoon, IX. 530.
Hoonga-Hapaee, islands, XL 558.
Hooper (John), bishop, XL 558.
 (George), divine, XL 558.
Hoopoe, bird, XVI. 591.
Hoorn, in the Netherlands, XI. 558.
 Islands, XL 558.
Hop. See Hops.
Hope, XL 559 ; XVII. 463.
 (Sir Tho.), XL 559 ; XII. 725.
 (Tho.),his Anastasius, XIX. 349.
 (Dr), his eudiometer, XVII. 532.
 Island, XI. 661.
 (Cape of Good). See Good Hope.
Hopeite, specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Hopital. See Hospital.
Hopkins on geology, XV. 234.
Hoplia, insect, IX. 160.
Hoplides, insects, IX. 159.
Hoplites, or Hoplitas, XI. 561.
Hoplitodromos, XL 561.
Hoplomachi, gladiators, XI. 561.
Hopper, XI. 561.
Hops, XL 559—culture of, II. 294—
their use in brewing, V. 242—their
qualities, ib.—of Herefordshire, XI.
273—of Kent, XII. 695—their protec¬
tion from insects, 294.
Hor, mountain, XL 561.
Horjea, Greek sacrifices, XL 561.
Horapollo, grammarian, XL 561.
Horatii, XI. 361;'VII. 551; XIX. 363.
Horatius Flaccus (Q.), or Horace,
•Roman poet, XI. 562—Fine’s edition
of, IV. 623—Cunningham’s edition
of, VII. 546, 547—Bentley’s emenda¬
tions of, ib.—on hunting, XI. 739—
poetry of, XVIII. 154—friendship
between him and Virgil, XXI. 655.
•   Cocles, XI. 561.
Horchilla Islands, XVI. 519.
HOR
Horde, in geography, XL 562.
Hordein, VI. 476.
Hordicalia, Roman feast, XI. 563.
Horeb, mountain, XL 568.
Horestii, VI. 1.
Horia, insect, IX. 168.
Horiales, insects, XI. 168.
Horispoor, Hindu town, XI. 563.
Horizon, XL 563; X. 404; III. 754—
sensible and rational, 758.
Horizontal, XL 563—Dial—Line—
Plane—-Range, ib.
Hormisdas, king of Persia, XVII. 262.
Horn,musicalinstrument, XI.563; XV.
615—English, 614—French, XL 563.
 (Count), XI. 511, et seq.
 (Cape), discovery of, XVII. 119.
Horns of animals, XL 563 ; XIV. 156 ;
XVII. 709—of Galla oxen, II. 59—use
of horn as manure, 303—moulding
of, XXI. 430.
Horn-distemper, XI. 563.
Horn-work, XI. 563.
Hornbeam tree, XVII. 783, 790.
Hornberg, German town, XI. 563.
Horabill, XVI. 593.
Hornblende, a mineral, XV. 153—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 31.
Hornby, in Lancashire, XI. 563.
Horncastle, in Lincoln, XI. 563.
 Navigation, XVI. 14.
Hornchurch, in Essex, XI. 563.
Horne (George), bishop, XL 563.
 (T. H.), on bibliography, IV. 632.
Horner (Francis), on Machiavelli, I.
235-6—estimate of his character, 387.
Horners, XI. 564.
Horning, in Scotch law, XI. 565.
Horningsham, in Wilts, XI. 565.
Hornpipe, XI. 565.
Hornsey, in Middlesex, XI. 565.
Hornstone, XV. 157—specific gravity
of, XII. 31.
Horography, XI. 565.
Horologium, XL 565.
Horopter, in optics, XL 565.
Horoscope, XI. 565.
Horoscopy, VIII. 58.
Horuea, XL 565.
Horror, XI. 565—ofi-u vacuum, ib.
Horrox (Jeremiah), XI. 565—foretold
the transit of Mercury in 1631,1. 495
— among the first who appreciated
the discoveries of Kepler, ib.—died
young, but left behind him matter
which Newton adopted, ib.
Horsa, V. 302.
Horsburgh’sbarometrical plates, IV. 394.
Horse, XL 566 ; II. 316 ; XIV. 152—
race-horse, XL 567—hunter, 580—
hackney, 588—charger, 592—troop-
horse, 593 — coach-horse, ib. — gig-
horse, 595—post-horse, ib.— cart¬
horse, 596—horses of America, II. 653
—Arabia, HI. 327, 340—Asia, 683—
Beykaueer, IV. 608 — Buenos Ayres,
V. 645 —Chili, VI. 530 — Derby¬
shire, VII. 736—Down, VIII. 133—
England, 766, 767—France, X. 176—
Germany, 483—ancient Greece, HI.
261—Ireland, XI. 596 ; XII. 407—
Norway, XVI. 264 — Persia, XVII.
244—Scotland, XL 597—Spain, XX.
517—Tangustan, IV. 794 — Tartary,
XXI. 84—Tibet, 256—Transylvania,
346—breeding and rearing of, II. 317
—feeding and working of, 319—air¬
ing of, 368—use of, among the Ame¬
rican tribes, 632—vocal organs of, III.
28—teeth of, 34 ; XXI. 621—small
brain of, III. 165—degeneration of, 169
—skill of Apelles in painting horses,
281 — affectionately treated by the
Arabs, 328—speed of race-horses, VII.
200—hots in, IX. 28i; XXL 627-
general treatment of, XI. 597—de¬
struction of worms in, Xll. 294—
strength of, XIV. 430, 438—strength
how exerted, 441—structure of, XVII.
707. See Horsemanship, Hunting,
Veterinary Science.
Horse-chestnut tree, XVII. 784, 787-
buds on ends of its branches, III. 92.
HOR—HOU
Horse-fly, spotted, XXI. 627.
Horse Guards, in London, XIII. 543.
Horse-hoes, II. 268.
Horse-leech, XI. 226.
Horsemanship, XI. 607—race-riding,
orjoekeyship, 621.
Plorse-radish, XI. 675.
Horse-rakes, II. 268.
Horsens, Danish town, XI. 626.
Horsfield (Dr), on the hats and mydaus
of Java, XIV. 99, 110.
Horsham, in Sussex, XX. 627.
Horsley, in Gloucester, XI. 627.
 (Samuel), bishop, XI. 627.
Horst, in the Netherlands, XI. 629.
Hortensius (Quintus), XI. 629.
Horticulture, XI. 630 — fruit and
kitchen garden, 631 —fruit-garden,
634—forcing-garden, 653 — kitchen-
garden, 667 — flower-garden, 676 —
calendar, 687—horticulture of Middle¬
sex, XV. 60—warming of hot-houses,
&c. by steam, XX. 605—Caledonian
Horticultural Society, VIII. 420. See
Gardening.
Horton (Mrs), her marriage to the
Duke of Cumberland, V. 395.
Horus, VIII. 553 ; XL 321.
 Apollo, XI. 561.
Hosanna, XL 692—Rabba, ib.
Hosea, Hebrew prophet, XI. 692.
Hosier (Admiral), V. 377.
Hosiery. See Stocking-Manufacture.
Hoskins (Mr), on the river Nile and its
source, XVI. 226, et seq.
Hospinian (Rodolphus), XI. 692.
Hospital, or Hopital (Michel de L’),
chancellor of France, XI. 692.
 (W. F. A. Marquis of), XI. 694
—on mathematics, XIV. 320.
Hospitals, XI. 692; XIV. 512—in
London, XIII. 513—improvements in
surgical, XX. 839 See Dublin, &c.
Hospitality, XI. 694 — among the
Arabs, III. 835; and Druses, VIII.
.219—duty of, XV. 475.
Hospitallers, knights, XL C95.
Hospitium, XI. 695.
Hospodar, XI. 695.
Hosseepoor, in Hindustan, XL 695.
Hossein-Abdaul, XI. 695.
Hossobetta, XL 695.
Hosso-durga, XI. 695.
Host, XI. 695.
 on botany, V. 80.
Hostage, XI. 695.
Hostia, XI. 695.
Hostility, XL 695.
Hot-beds, XI. 695—use of oak-leaves
in,.XVI. 314.
Hot-blast furnace, X. 559 ; XV. 246,
250, n.—smelting, XX. 406.
Hot-houses, XI. 653 ; XX. 605—glazing
of, X, 575.
Hotel, XI. 695.
Hottentots, XL 695 ; II. 226; X. 613,
614—their language, XIII. 94.
Hottinger (John Henry), XI. 695.
Houbigant’s Hebrew Bible, IV. 614.
Houbraken (Jacob), XI. 696.
Houel (Mens.), his description of the
view from iEtna, II. 200 ; of its
forests, 201; of Fata Morgana, IX. 494.
Houghton le Spring, XL 696.
Hound, XI. 697, 742. See Hunting.
Hounslow, in Middlesex, XL 707 —
trigonometrical base on Hounslow
heath, XXI. 381, et seq.
Hour, XL 707. See Dialling.
Hour-angles, III. 755.
Hours, goddesses, XI. 707.
 , in Romish church, XI. 707.
Hour-glass, XI. 707.
Houris, XI. 707.
House, XI. 708—site for, XIV. 511. See
Building, Carpentry.
House-painting, XVI. 730.
Household, XI. 708.
Housing, or House-line, XL 708.
 , or Housee, XI. 708.
Houssa, XI. 708; II. 237.
Houston (Mr), on the tongue of the
chameleon, III. 27.
HOY—HUM
Hoyeden (Roger de), XI. 711.
Horen, disease of cattle, XXI. 624.
Howard (Catherine), VII. 446 ; VIII.
749, 750.
 (Charl'es), XI. 712.
 (Lady Frances), II. 14.
  (Henky), earl of Surrey, XI.
711—execution of, VIII. 751—poetry
of, IX. 41.
 (John), XI. 712—his work on
Prisons, V. 79.
  (Luke), on the electricity of
clouds, VIII. 618—his rain-gauge,
XVII. 536.
 (Mr), his process of distillation
in vacuo, XX. 576.
Howden, in Yorkshire, XI. 714.
Howe (Richard, Earl), IX. 714; V. 408
,—his victory in 1794, 475.
 (General), V. 408.
Howe’s Island, XL 715.
Howell (Mr), his method of boring
wooden pipes, V. 6.
Howick (Lord), his bill for religious
emancipation in the army, V. 521.
Howitzer, XI. 71, 73, 715—boring of
howitzers, V. 3.
Howler-ape, voice of the, III. 28.
Hewlett (Mr), on the population of Eng¬
land, VIII. 797.
Howship, on structure of bone, II. 742—
on disease of kidneys, XVII. 479.
Howth, near Dublin, XI. 715; VIII.
234—diving-bell used in making the
harbour of, VIII. 69.
Hoxter, Prussian city, XI. 715.
Hor, XL 715—Island, ib.
Hoya, in Hanover, XI. 716.
Hoaheine, XL 716 ; XVIII. 324,
Hobely, Hindu town, XI. 716.
Huber (P.), on ants, III. 239, 241-4—
his hive, 283—on bees, IV. 519, ct
eeq.—his blindness, IV. 701—on the
sense of smell in bees, IX. 78,79.
Huberstone, XVII. 183.
Hdbner (John), XI. 716.
Hccknall-Torkakd, XI. 716.
Huddart’s rope-machine, XIX. 464-6-7.
Huddersfield,, in Yorkshire, XI. 716
—canal, XVI. 14.
Hudson (Henry), XI. 716—his disco¬
veries in Greenland, X. 757—voyages
of, XVIII. 218.
 (William), XL 716—his botani¬
cal labours, V. 83.
 (Jeffery), dwarf, VIII. 294.
■   River, XI. 717; XVI. 183;
XXI. 455—its navigation, XVI. 27.
Hudson’s Bay, XI. 717 ; XVII. 521—
French expedition to, in the year
1782, V. 422.
Hudson’s Bay Company, VII. 184; VIII.
691 ; X. 260, 264.
Hue and Cry, XI. 717.
Hu5, river, VII. 12—town, 13.
Huen, island, IV. 328.
Huesca, XI. 717 ; III. 373.
Huescar, Spanish city, XI. 717. *
Huet (Peter Daniel), XI. 717—super¬
intended the Delphin edition of the
Classics, IV. 627—Huetiana, II. 676.
Hufingen, in Baden, XI. 718.
Hugo de Sancto Caro, IV. 612.
■ ■ (Victor), XVIII. 166—charac¬
ter of his novels, XIX. 355.
Huguenots, XI. 718 ; XIX. 94.
HuiUier (L.) on the geometric properties
of bees’ combs, IV. 526.
Huish on bees, III. 282, 284.
Hulk, XI. 719—hulks, XX. 218.
Hull, XL 719; XXI. 963 —siege of, in
1643, V. 325—docks of, VIII. 75—
port of, 763—trade of, XXI. 964.
 of a ship, XI. 720.
Hulls (Jonathan), VIII. 197—lussteam-
boat, XX. 687.
Hulst, in the Netherlands, XI. 720.
Human, XL 720.
Humane Society, their rules for restor-
ing the animation of drowned persons,
VIII. 202.
Humanity, XI. 720—Humanities, or
liters humaniores, XI. 720.
I
INDEX.
HUM
Humbert (General), X. 109.
Humble-bees, IX. 235.
Humboldt on America, II. 607, ct seq.—
on the indigenous Americans, 616—■
on the American languages, 618—his
journey across the Andes, III. 118—
account of a crocodile roused from
lethargy or summer sleep, 168—ba¬
rometrical measurement of Chim¬
borazo, IV. 401—vertical section of
America, 402—on the botany of Ame¬
rica, V. 77—on isothermal lines, VI.
764 ; XI. 197, 371—on the Canaries,
VI. 73—on the Egyptian calendar,
VIII. 554—on the electricity of the
torpedo and electrical eel, 610, 613;
XII. 225 —on picture-writing, XI.
296, n. 4—on magnetism, XIII. 691,
701, 745-, 749—on the Mexican In¬
dians, XIV. 809 — on the Russian
mines, XV. 253 — on the Mexican
mines, 260, 280—on the Orinoco,
XVI. 536—on Manco Capac, XVII.
293—on American volcanoes, 514—on
the distribution of heat, 543, 545 ; of
plants, 545, 546, 547 ; of animals, IX.
105—on the population of New Spain,
XVIII. 410.
Humboldtite, specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Hume (David), XI. 720, 564—his esti¬
mate of Machiavelli, I. 24—on mo¬
dern improvements in monarchical
government, ib.—on the statutes of
Henry VII., 37-8—on the influence of
the civil war of 1640, 48—on cause
and effect, 78, 211, et seq. 286 ; XVII.
436, 440—his Treatise of Human Na¬
ture, I. 206-7, 221, 353—its effects on
literature, 208—his division of the
objects of knowledge, ib.—admitted
the existence of only impressions and
ideas, 209, 219—his scepticism, 209,
215—his refutation of attempts to de¬
monstrate self-evident truths, 210—
benefits which have resulted from his
reasonings, ib. — his distinction be¬
tween the sensitive and cogitative
parts of our nature, 212—on our be¬
lief in the permanency of the laws of
nature, ib.— on the course of nature,
and succession of ideas, ib.—his re¬
formation of the philosophical voca¬
bulary, 213—instance of his sincerity
in the search after truth, 216—But¬
ler’s opinion of his Essays, 217—vir¬
tuous private character of, 352—anti¬
cipated in some of his doctrines, 425
—considered his Inquiry concerning
the Principles of Morals as the best
of his writings, 354—merits of that
work, 355, et Mtf.—his style, 354—
his last illness, 424—on the state of
agriculture under the feudal system,
II. 252—on God’s government of the
universe, III. 176, «.—on balance of
power, IV. 310—his philosophy, 477
—his injustice to Prynne, 629—on
miracles, VI. 622, 627 ; XV. 295—on
the effect of a progressive rise of prices
in stimulating productive industry,
VII. 160—his character of Oliver
Cromwell, 477 ; of the Marquis of
Worcester, XXI. 941—on association
of ideas, VIII. 436 ; XIV. 626—his
letter to Gibbon, X. 509 ; to Dr Reid,
XIX. 106—his faults as a historian,
XI. 498 — Hurd’s answer to, 759 ;
XXI. 772—on the origin of ideas,
XII. 296—on rates of interest, 319 ;
XVIII. 265; n. 1—on law, XIII. 176,
177—on perception, XIV. 605—on
memory, 615—on the idea of power,
633—on belief of testimony, 641—on
necessity, 690—on instinctive-benevo¬
lence, XV. 458—on government, XVI.
235—on Ossian, 660, 662—on politi¬
cal economy, XVIII. 268—his con¬
duct to J. J. Rousseau, XIX. 508—
Smellie’s Life of, XX. 403—Adam
Smith’s account of his death and cha¬
racter, XX. 417 ; and Lord Hailes’s
Latin version of it, VII. 604.
 (Joseph), his financial opposition
HUM—HUR
to ministers, V. 553, 556, 559—his
motions on the Church of Ireland, 562
—on the corn-laws, 571.
Humeotation, XI. 722.
Humerus, or aim-bone, in man, II. 786
—in reptiles, III. 15.
Humidity, XI. 722.
Humiliati, XI. 722.
Humiliation, XI. 723.
Humility, XI. 723; I. 381; XV. 470.
Humiriaceas, in botany, V. 103.
Humming-birds, XVI. 590 ; VI. 526.
Hummock, XVII. 519.
 Island, XI. 723.
Humour, XL 723.
Humphrey (Laurence), XI. 723.
 Duke of Gloucester, VIII. 733-4.
Humphreys on codification, XIII. 192.
Humphreys’ steam-engine, XX. 695.
Hundreds, XI. 723—division of English
counties into, VIII. 762.
Hunfeld, Hessian town, XI. 723.
Hungary, XI. 723; IV. 223—mines,
230 ; XV. 252, et seq.—language, XIII.
90—libraries, 314—inland navigation,
XVI. 4—heights ofmountains, XVII.
506—war with Sweden, XXI. 21.—
Turkish invasions, 412.
Hungary-Water, XI. 731.
Hunger, XI. 731 ; XVII. 626, 662-
effect of custom on, VII. 559.
Hungerford, in Wilts, XI. 733.
 Market, London, XIII. 507.
Huningen, French town, XI. 733.
Hunniades (John), VII. 289.
Hunns, nation, XI. 733, 729 ; X. 478
—Charlemagne’s war with the, X. 8
—their language, XIII. 91—their in¬
vasions of the Roman empire, XIX.
418, et seq.
Hunt (Leigh), his connexion with Lord
Byron, V. 758.
 (Captain), V. 391.
Hunter (John), XI. 736—on the dis¬
tinction of species, III. 162—on bees,
IV. 519—on the varieties of human
complexion, VII. 189—on compara¬
tive anatomy, XVII. 584—his work on
Digestion, XX. 524—his improve¬
ments in surgery, 830—too fond of
amputating, 834, n.
 (Dr John), on grammar, X. 640,
et seq.
  (Dr William), XI. 734 — his
anatomical labours, II. 702, 703—on
cellular and adipose tissues, 713, 715
—on the lymphatics, 729—on carti¬
lage, 747—his copartnership with Dr
Cullen, VII. 532—on the torpedo,
VIII. 610 ; and electrical eel, 613.
 (Governor), XXI. 712.
 , horse, XI 734, 580, 598, 605.
Hunter’s double screw, XIV. 370.
Hunter’s Isles, XI. 737.
Hunter’s River, XXI. 715.
Hunterian Museum, X. 539.
Hunting, XI. 738, 612—of the boar,
IV. 721 — in chivalry, VI. 602—in
Sinde, XX. 364.
Hunting-box, in gardening, X. 337.
Huntingdon, XI. 757.
——— (Countess of), her patronage of
Whitefield, XXI. 875.
Huntingdonshire, XI. 757.
Huntington, linguist, XI. 312.
Huntsman, XI. 754.
Huntspill, in Somerset, XI. 758.
Hupeau (M.), his centre for the bridge
of Orleans, VI. 286.
Hurd (Richard), XI. 758—his sneer at
Dr Taylor, XXI. 128—his panegyric
of Warburton, 771—on Bolingbroke’s
attack on Pope, 772—his work against
Hume, ib.; XI. 7 59—his preface to
Warburton’s works, XXI. 773—his
Letters to that prelate, ib.
Hurda, Hindu town, XI. 760.
Hurdle and Hurdles, XI. 760.
Hurdwab, XI. 760—commerce of, 886.
Hcrly Burly, XI. 760.
Huro, fish, XII. 168.
Huron, lake, XI. 7 60; VI. 58,64 ; XV.
7 ; XVII. 522; XXI. 455.
79
HUR—HYB
Hurrepore, Hindu town, XI. 760.
Hurrial, town in Bengal, XI. 760.
Hurricane, XI. 760 ; XVII. 541.
Hurst, XI. 760.
Husbandry, XI. 760. See Agriculture.
Huskisson (William), XI. 760—his bill
for amending the combination-law, V.
564—on the corn-laws, VII. 350—on
the sinking-fund, X. 245.
Huss (John), XI. 761; XXI. 952.
Hussars, cavalry, XI. 761.
Husseinpoor, Hindu town, XI. 761,
Hussenabad, Hindu town, XI. 761.
Hussites, XI. 761.
Hussun Subach, XVII. 264.
Hustings, XI. 762.
Hustnapore, Hindu city, XI. 762.
Husum, Danish city, XL 762.
Huszk, in Hungary, XI. 762.
Hutcheson (Dr Francis), XI. 762 ; I.
204, 349—his writings and philoso¬
phy, 205 ; XII. 296—his letters to Dr
Clarke, I. 348—on disinterested affec¬
tions, and a distinct moral faculty,
ib.—compared with Butler, ib.—on
secondary desires, 348—on the nature
of conscience, ib.—his errors, 349—
on beauty, IV. 485—on the sense of
deformity, VII. 673 —on laughter,
XIII. 122, 123.
Hutchins’s experiments on the freezing
of quicksilver, VI. 262.
Hutchinson (General), V. 505; VIII.
493.
  (John), XI. 763, 564—on the
Deluge, VII. 700.
Hutchinsonianism, XVII. 367 ; XL 763.
Huttany, Hindu town, XI. 763.
Hutton (Cha.), on gunnery, XL 64—on
the resistance of fluids, XII. 79—his
Mathematical Tables, XIII. 420—on
projectiles, XVIII. 654.
 (Dr James), XI. 763—his manu¬
factory of sal-ammoniac, II. 661, 662
—his hygrometer, XII. 125—his theory
of rain, 132; XIV. 748 ; XVII. 535
—on hygrometry, XVII. 533.
Huy, in the Netherlands, XI. 764.
Huygens de Zuylichem (Christian),
XI. 764,— his discoveries regarding
motion, I. 479—his micrometer, 496;
XV. 11, 23—other adaptations of the
telescope to astronomical purposes
suggested by, I. 497—his theory of
light, 514—his life and character, 581
—greatly improved dynamics, 602—on
probability, III. 199 ; XVIII. 592—
his astronomical discoveries, III. 742;
I. 496—on pneumatics, IV. 389—his
barometer, ib.—on barometrical mea¬
surements, 397, n. 1—on the pendu¬
lum, VI. 767, 785; I. 479, 581—his
contrivance for keeping clocks going
while wound, VI. 784—his watch-
springs, 789—on the earth’s figure,
IX. 548; XVII. 498—on double re¬
fraction, XIII. 333 ; I. 515—on evo-
lutes, XIV. 318—on mechanics, 351,
353—on the invention of the tele¬
scope, XVI. 354 ; and microscope,
356—on polarisation of light, 359,
453; XVIII. 242—on the quadrature
of the circle, XX. 555—on the eyes
of animals, XXI. 148—his eye-piece
of telescopes, 164.
Huysum (John), painter, XL 766.
Hyacinth, culture of, XL 681—specific
gravity of, XII. 31.
Hyacinthus, in mythology, XI. 766.
Hyades, nymphs, XI. 766.
Hyasna, XIV. 119 ; II. 56, 60.
Hyalea, mollusca, XV. 355.
Hyalite, a mineral, XV. 167—specific
gravity of, XII. 31.
Hyaloid membrane and fluid of the hu¬
man eye, II. 799.
Hybernaculum of buds, III. 91, 96.
Hybernation of animals, II. 46; III.
167.
Hybla, in Sicily, XI. 766 ; XV. 701.
Hybos, insect, IX. 269.
Hybotinse, insects, IX. 269.
Hybrid plants, XI. 766 ; V. 59
80
INDEX
HYB—HYD
Hybrids, XIV. 201—generally barren,
III. 101.
Hybiustioa, Grecian feast, XI. 766.
Hydaspes, river, passed by Alexander
the Great, XIII. 634.
Hydaticus, insect, IX. 174.
Hyde (Edward), Earl of Clarendon, XI.
766 ; V. 342, 343—impeached, 346.
 (Thomas), XI. 770.
 Park, London, XIII. 542.
Hyder All, XI. 421,et seg.; XIV. 51—
his proceedings in Canara, VI. 70.
Hyderabad, XI. 770-1 ; XX. 363.
Hydebbunge, Hindu village, XI. 772.
Hydergur, Hindu town, XI. 772.
Hydershy, Hindu town, XI. 772.
Hydra, XI. 772—island, X. 730—zoo¬
phyte, XXI. 1023.
Hydrachna, arachnides, III. 369.
Hydragogues, XI. 772.
Hydrangeae, in botany, V. 113.
PIydrargyrom, XI. 772.
Hydraspis, reptiles, XIX. 129..
Hydrates, VI. 437.
Hydraulic press. See Hydrostatic.
 ram, V. 148.
Hydraulics, XI. 772 ; XII. 51 ; XVII.
568—Souterasi or hydraulic obelisks
at Constantinople, III. 319—pipes for
conveying water into towns 320—
Coulomb on the cohesion of -fluids,
VII. 428 — hydraulic machinery,
XII. 82. See Aqueduct, Fluids, Hy¬
drodynamics, Noria, Pump, Water-
Works.
Hydrenterocele, XI. 772.
Hydret of potassium, VI. 393.
Hydriodates, VI. 455.
Hydriodic acid, VI. 364.
Hydrobisulphoeyanic acid, VI. 435.
Hydrobromates, VI. 455.
Hydrobromic acid, VI. 364.
Hydrocampe, insect, IX. 252.
Hydrocanthari, insects, IX. 134.
Hydro-carbo-sulphuric acid, VI. 431.
Hydrocele, common in Egypt, VIII.
517—surgical treatment of, XX. 845.
Hydrocephalus, XI. 772; XVII. 458
—in the domestic animals, XXI. 633.
Hydrocerese, in botany, V. 103.
Hydrochawus, in zoology, XIV. 140.
Hydrocharideae, in botany, V. 132.
Hydrochloric acid, VI. 364.
Hydrochorisse, insects, IX. 198.
Hydrochus, insect, IX. 150.
Hydrocyanates, VI. 456.
Hydrocyanic acid, VI. 433—its poison¬
ous quality, XIV. 505.
Hydrocyon, fish, XII. 213.
Hydrodynamics, XII. 1—fundamental
principles of, I. 607—Daniel Bernoulli
on, ib.—D’Alembert and Euler, 608
—Lagrange and Newton, ib.—Bossut,
609—experiments of Smeaton, ib.—
method of investigating the resistance
of fluids, ib.—experiments of Robins,
Borda, Hutton, and Coulomb, on ve¬
locities of moving bodies, 610—ob¬
servations on flow of water and air
through pipes, ib.-—Ampere’s experi¬
ment on projection of water through
vertical slit, 611—laws of, applicable
te air, XVIII. 76—motion of fluids in
pipes, 110, 112—theory of motion of
rivers and canals, XIX. 253. See Hy¬
draulics, Hydrostatics.
Hydroferrocyanic acid, VI. 435.
Hydrofluates, VI. 456.
Hydrofluoric acid, VI. 432.
Hydrogen, in chemistry, VI. 363—in
mineralogy, XV. 137—tones produced
by the burning of, II. 120—its light¬
ness, and use in balloons, 181, 182,
183, 187—its use-with oxygen in the
blowpipe, IV. 716 —its compounds
with carbon, VI. 370—effects of food
containing, VIII. 24—electricity de¬
veloped in the combustion of, VIII.
606—arsenietted, VI. 384—carburet-
ted, 370; X. 366; XIV. 504; XV.
137 ; XVI. 184—phosphuretted, VI.
381 — selenietted, 378 —telluretted,
379— sulphuretted, VI. 376; XIV.
HYD—HYP
503—specific gravity of the bicarburet
of, XII. 31.
Hydrographical Charts, XII. 110.
Hydrography, XII. 110.
Hydroida, zoophytes, XXI. 1023.
Hydroleacese, in botany, V. 121.
Hydromancy, VIII. 58.
Hydromel, XII. 110.
Hydrometer, XII. 22, 110.
Hydrometra, insect, IX. 198.
Hydromys, in zoology, XIV. 132.
Hydropeltidse, in botany, V. 96.
Hydrophanes, stone, XII. 110.
Hydrophili, insects, IX. 150.
Hydrophis, a serpent, XX. 150 — its
poison, 129.
Hydrophobia, XII. 110; XIV. 507—
in the domestic animals, XXI. 633.
Hydro-phosphoric gas, VI. 382.
Hydrophylacia, XII. 110.
Hydrophyllese, in botany, V. 122.
Hydroporus, insect, IX. 135.
Hydroscope, XII. 110.
Hydrostatic balance, IV. 307 — press,
XII. 107; II. 114; IV. 387; VI. 19.
Hydrostatics, XII. 9 ; XVII. 568—
discoveries of Archimedes, Stevinus,
Torricelli,and Otto Guericke, I. 480—
principles of, 608—Euler on, ib.—the
theory reduced into a simple form by
Bouguer, ib.—outline of this theory,
609 —investigation of the earth’s figure
from the laws of, IX. 563.
Hydrosulphocyanic acid, VI. 435.
Hydrosulphuretted hydrosulphocyanic
acid, VI. 435.
Hydrosulphuric acid, VI. 376.
Hydrosulphurous acid, VI. 376.
Hydrothorax, XII. 110—in the do¬
mestic anipials, XXI. 631.
Hydrous, insect, IX. 150.
Hydruntum, XII. 110.
Hyemantes, XII. 110.
Hyetometer, XIV. 7 42.
Hygeia, goddess of health, XI. 179.
Hygieine, XII. 110 ; XIV. 522.
Hyginus (Cains Julius), XII. 110.
Hygrobia, insect, IX. 135.
Hygrometer, XII. Ill; XVII. 533—in-
veution and description of, I. 649—
applications of, 650-1 ; XIV. 737—
Leslie’s, VII. 60 ; XIV. 7 31—its use in
meteorology,727—its practical utility,
737—Peltier’s thermo-electric hygro¬
meter, XXI. 700.
Hygrometry, XII. Ill—observations
of Biot and Gay-Lussac in a balloon,
II. 193, 194—use of membranes in,
XVII. 598.
Hygroscope, XII. 135 ; XIV. 727,744.
See Hygrometer.,
Hyla, reptile, XIX. 155.
Hylseus, insect, IX. 232.
Hylesinus, insect, IX. 176.
Hylobates, in zoology, XIV. 91.
Hylobius, insect, IX. 174.
Hylophagse, IX. 378.
Hylotoma, insect, IX. 217.
Hylozoists, Greek atheists, XII. 135.
Hylurgus, insect, IX. 176.
Hymen, god of marriage, XII. 135.
 , in anatomy, II. 826.
Hymenajal, XII. 135.
Hymenoptera, XII. 136; IX. 59, 215.
Hymettus, mountain, XII. 136.
Hymn, XII. 136.
Hyndford, family of, XI. 249, n. 1.
Hynnis,fish, XII. 186.
Hyodon, fish, XII. 216.
Hyoid bone, II. 781-—its muscles, 794.
Hyoscyamus niger, a poison, XIV. 505.
Hypagthros, in architecture, III. 467.
Hypallage, in grammar, XII. 136.
Hypante, Greek feast, XII. 136.
Hypatia, XII. 136 ; II. 421; X. 427—
not the inventor of the araiometer,
III. 370.
Hypatius, VII. 281.
Hyper, Greek prefix, XII. 136.
Hypera, insects, IX. 173.
Hyperbaton, in grammar, XII. 136.
Hyperbola, XII. 137 ; VII. 238.
Hyperbole, in rhetoric, XII. 137.
HYP—ICE
Hyperboloid, mensuration of, XIV. 576.
Hyperborean, XII. 137 ; II. 10.
Hypercatalectic verse, XII. 137.
Hypercritic, XII. 137.
Hyperdulia, XII 137.
Hypericineae, in botany, V. 101.
Hyperides, Greek orator, XII. 137.
Hypermnestra, XII. 138.
Hyperoodontes, in zoology, XIV. 182.
Hypersthene, a mineral, XV. 149.
Hypertrophy, XVII. 128.
Hyphen, in grammar, XII. 138.
Hypnotic, in medicine, XII. 138.
Hypo, Greek particle, XII. 138.
Hypobole, in rhetoric, XII. 138.
Hypocatharsis, XII. 138.
Hypocaustum, XII. 138.
Hypochondriac Passion, XII. 138.
Hypocist, specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Hypocorollaa, in botany, V. 119.
Hypocrisy, XII. 138.
Hypoderma, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Hypogaion, worm, XI. 222.
Hypogasum, XII. 138.
Hypogastric, XII. 138.
Hypogea, in architecture, III. 467.
Hypoglottis, XII. 138.
Hypogynous stamens and petals, V. 41.
Hyponitrous acid, VI. 366.
Hypopctalaj, in botany, V. 94.
Hypophosphorous acid, VI. 380.
Hyposcenium, XII. 138.
Hypostaminea, in botany, V. 125.
Hypostasis, XII. 138.
Hypostoma, fish, XII. 203.
Hyposulpho-arsenites, VI. 458.
Hyposulphuric acid, VI. 37S.
Hyposulphurous acid, VI. 375.
Hypothec a, in civil law, XII. 138.
Hypothenuse, XII. 139 ; X. 433.
Hypothesis, XII. 139—the true use of,
I. 101 ; XVII. 443—in geometry, X.
433—danger of, XVII. 442.
Hypotrachelion, XII. 139 ; III. 467.
Hypoxidwe, in botany, V. 133.
Hypoxula, reproductive organs of, V. 57.
Hypsistarii, heretics, XII. 139. •
Hypulus, insect, IX. 166.
Hyrax, XIV. 101—stomach of, III. 35.
Hyrcania, XII. 139 ; XIII. 633.
Hyrcanus (John), XII. 570; XVI. 751.
Hyson-tea, XXI. 132.
Hysterical Affection, XII. 139—
anomalous forms of, XVII. 486.
Hysteron Proteron, XII. 139.
Hystrix, in zoology, XIV. 139.
Hythe, town in Kent, XII. 139.
I
I, letter of the alphabet, XII. 140.
lade, specific gravity, XII. 31.
Iambic, in ancient poetry, XII. 140.
Iambus, in prosody, XII. 140.
latro-chemists, VI. 348.
Ibalia, insect, IX. 226.
Ibarra, XVIII. 798.
Ibatzas, VII. 283.
Ibera, lake, XVII. 66.
Iberia, a name of Spain, XII. 140.
 :—, in Asia, XII. 140—ravaged by
the Turks, VII. 284—Iberian or Geor¬
gian alphabet, II. 549.
Iberians, XX. 490.
Ibis, bird, XVI. 620.
Ibrahim Aga, III. 345.
 Pacha, XXI. 64—his war against
the Wahabys, III. 345—his Greek
campaigns, VIII. 504 ; X. 749.
 , Turkish emperor, XXI. 412.
Ibycter, bird, XVI. 561.
Ibycus, Greek poet, XII. 140.
Icarus, VII. 583.
Ice, XII. 140 ; XX. 571—celerity of
sound through, II. 115—how collected
in India, VII. 59—artificial, VII. 62,
504 ; XL 191, 196; VI. 263—mode
of forming it in India, IX. 433—cause
of its floating, XI. 189—its elasticity,
&c., XX. 753-4—sea-ice, XVII. 519.
Icebergs, XII. 142; XVII. 519.
ICE-IDI
Ice-blink, XII. 141; XVII. 520.
Ice-house, XII. 141.
Ice-island, XII. 141.
Iceland, XII. 142; XVIII. 215—an.
cient mythology of, VIII. 410—jury
trial in, XII. 650—language of, XIII.
85; XVII. 419—birds, XVI. 551—
heights of mountains, XVII. 505—vol¬
canoes, 513—geysers, XVII. 528.
 moss, V. 139; VI. 476.
 spar, XII. 148—double refrac¬
tion of, I. 514 ; XVI. 359, 453, 487-
—electricity produced by pressure of,
VIII. 600.
Iceni, XII. 148.
Icennine Way, VIII. 121.
Icetas, VI. 186 ; XXL 56, 57.
Ichneumon, insect, IX. 222—one of the
mammalia, XIV. 118.
Ichneumonides, insects, IX. 218.
Ichnography, XII. 148 ; III. 467.
Ichor, humour, XII. 149.
Ichthyocolla, XII. 149 ; VI. 727.
Ichthyology, XII. 151 — circulation
and respiration in fishes, II. 707-—
bones, III. 1, 16—muscles of tail, 20
—organs of smell, 21—eyes, 22, et seq.
—ears, 26—nervous system, 30, 31—
teeth, 32, 33—stomach, 36—intes¬
tines, 37-8—organs of circulation and
aeration, 39, 40—Cuvier on, VII. 571
—electricity of fishes, VIII. 572—
comparative physiology of fishes,
XVII. 715—air-bladder, 717; XVIII.
08. See Fishes.
Ichthyophagi, or fish-eators, XII. 240;
IX. 378 ; XVI. 68.
Ichthyosaurus, peculiarities of its bones,
III. 16—its eyes, 23.
Ichthyperia, XII. 240.
Ickenild Street, XII. 240.
Icolmkil. See Iona.
Iconium, in Asia Minor, XII. 240.
Iconoclastes, or image-breakers, XII.
240; XIII. 467; XVI. 706.
ICONOGRAPHIA, XII. 241.
Iconolatraa. See Iconoclastes.
Icononzo, natural bridge of, III. 118.
Icosahedron, in geometry, XII. 241.
Icosandria, in botany, XII. 241.
Icterus, bird, XVI. 582.
Ictides, in zoology, XIV. 107.
Ictinia, bird, XVI. 564.
Ictinus, VIII. 666.
Ida (Mount), XII. 241; VII. 582.
Idalium, promontory, XII. 242.
Ideas, XII. 242 ; XIV. 600—M. Alla-
mand’s criticism on Locke’s argument
against innate ideas, I. 107, 250—
Arnauld’s docrines, 80—Cudworth’s,
194-5—Diderot’s erroneous estimate
of Locke’s discoveries, 109-11—views-
of Gassendi, 73 ; Hume, 209 ; Helve-
tius, 136; Kant, 279 ; Leibnitz, 123;
Locke, 109; Shaftesbury, 118; Vol¬
taire, 251—remarks concerning, 247—
Meyer’s doctrine of the materiality of,
III. 302—Plato’s notions of, III. 496 ;
XVIII. 25—Condillac’s, VII. 204, 206
,—simple and complex, XIII. 434—
composition and resolution of, 437—
origin of, XIV. 601—general, or ab¬
stract, 622—physiological explanation
of, XVII. 674. See Association.
Ideal, in the fine arts, III. 645, 655.
Ideal theory, by whom first assailed, I.
80—Berkeley’s theory of idealism,
165—the object of Dr Reid to refute
it, 218. See Berkeley.
Idealist, meaning of the term as em¬
ployed in philosophy, I. 190.
Ideality, XVII. 463.
Identity, XII. 242.
 (personal), XIV. 679—-Dr But¬
ler on, I. 217—in medical jurispru¬
dence, XIV. 493.
Ides, XII. 242 ; VI. 4.
Idia, insect, IX. 283.
Idiocy, XII. 242—Locke on, XVIII. 774.
Idiom, XII. 24 3 ; XIII. 64.
Idiopathy, in physic, XII. 243.
Idiosyncrasy, XII. 243.
Idiot, XII. 243.
81
INDEX.
IDL—IMA
Idleness, XII. 243—diseasesarising from,
XIV. 509.
Idol, XII. 243.
Idolatry,XII. 243; XI. 487; XVIII.320.
Idomeneus, XII. 243 ; Vll. 464.
Idoteadae, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Idria, XII. 244—quicksilver mines of,
XV. 257.
Idro, lake, XII. 484 ; XIII. 469.
Idstein, in Germany, XII. 244.
IDUM.EA, VIII. 431.
Idyllion, XII. 244 ; VIII. 398.
lerax, bird, XVI. 565.
If, French island, XII. 244.
Ifshwah, Hindu town, XII. 244.
Igasuric acid, VI. 429.
Iglao, in Austria, XII. 244.
Iglesias, Sardinian city, XII. 244.
Ignatia, in botany, XII. 244.
Ignatius Loyola, XII. 244, 252.
Ignatius (St), XII. 244.
Ignis Fatuus, XII. 245; XIII. 337;
XVII. 542.
Ignition, XII. 245 — by electricity,
XXI. 677. See Combustion, Fire.
Ignobiles, XII. 245.
Ignominia, XII. 245.
Ignoramus, in law, XII. 245.
Ignorance, XII. 245.
Igor, king of Russia, XIX. 528.
Igualada, Spanish town, XII. 245.
Iguana, reptile, XIX. 144.
Iguanidae, reptiles, XIX. 141.
Ikan-sumpit, fish, XII. 180.
Ikery, Hindu town, XII. 245.
Ikhmim, antiquities at, VIII. 544.
Ila, Hay, or isiay, XII. 245.
Ilance, Swiss town, XII. 246.
Ilbessan, Turkish city, XII. 246.
Ilchester,XII. 246; XVI. 14; XX.476.
Ildefonso, Spanish town, XII. 246.
Ilerda, XII. 246.
Ileum, anatomy of the, II. 815—compa¬
rative anatomy of the. III. 38.
Ilex, tree, XII. 246 ; XVII. 786.
Ilford, town in Essex, XII. 246.
Ilfracombe, in Devon, XII. 246.
Iliac passion, XII. 246—artery, II. 820
Iliad, XII. 246. See Homer,
llicinese, in botany, V. 119.
Ilimsk, Russian town, XII. 246.
Ilissus, river, XII. 246 ; IV. 124.
Ilithyia, insect, IX. 253.
Ilium, or Ilion, XII. 246. See Troy.
Ilkeston, in Derbyshire, XII. 246.
Ille-Vilaine, in France, XII. 246.
Me and Ranee, canal of, XVI. 6.
Hlecebreaj, in botany, V. 112.
Illecebrum, in botany, XII. 246.
Illicium, in botany, XII. 247.
Illiger (Prof.), his classification of ani-
. mals, III. 170 ; and of the mammalia,
XIV. 79,80—on birds, XVI. 550, 639.
Illimani, gold of, IV. 748—Nevada de,
XVII. 164.
Illinois, XII. 247—manufacturing ca¬
pabilities of, VII. 422, n.—canals in,
• XVI. 26—state-bonds of, XXI. 479.
Illogan, in Cornwall, XII. 249.
Illuminati, XII. 249.
Illuminating of MSS., XII. 249.
Illumined, or Illuminati, XII. 250.
Illustrious, XII. 250.
Illyria (ancient), XII. 250—reduced
by Philip of Macedon, XIII. 623-war
with the Romans, XIX. 385.
 (modern), XII. 251.
Illyrian alphabet, II. 548.
Illyrius (Mathias), XII. 252.
Ilmen, lake, XIX. 565.
Ilminster, in Somerset, XII. 252.
Image, XII. 252.
Image-breakers, or leonoclastes, XII.
240 ; XIII. 467 ; XVI. 706.
Image-worship, XII. 241, 243; XVIII
333, 405-6.
Imaginary Quantities, XII. 253.
  Roots, XII. 253.
Imagination, XII. 253 ; XIV. 613, 629
—incorrectly identified by D’Alembert
with abstraction, I. 6—its province
narrow when compared with that of
observation and reason, 79—Addison
IMA—INA
on the pleasures of, 161—pleasures
of, mostly originate in association,
368—importance of culture of, HI.
267—is the source of apparitions,
°03 its effect in curing diseases,
XIV. 5, 24—importance of, XV. 482
poetic, XVIII. 141—effect of civi¬
lization on, 145.
Imago, in entomology, XII. 253; IX. 88.
Imam, XII. 253.
Imaus, mountain, XII. 253 ; XI. 368.
Imbecility, XII. 253.
Imbibing, XII. 254.
Imbricated, in botany, XII. 254.
Imbro, Greek island, XII. 254,
Imbuzeiro, tree, XVII. 734.
Imilcar, VI. 185.
Imitation, XII. 254—in music, XII.
254 ; XV. 637—imitative music, 641
—in oratory, XII. 254—phrenological
faculty of, XVII. 464.
Immaterialism, XVII. 559.
Immateriality does not imply immor-
taiity, XXI. 213.
Immediately, VIII. 10.
Immeritia, in Asia, XII. 254.
Immersion, XII. 254.
Immolation, XII. 254.
Immortal, XII. 254.
Immortality of the soul, XIV. 684; XXI.
213—only conjectured before pro¬
mulgation of Christianity, VI. 624-5
•—influence of the doctrine in help¬
ing to diffuse that religion, 625 —
Clarke’s controversy with Dodwell on,
VI. 729—whether granted to brutes,
XI. 697—motive to virtue from, XV.
487 —proofs of, ib. — taught in the
ancient mysteries, 671—opinions held
respecting it by Aristotle, III. 507 ;
Plato, XVIII. 34; and Socrates, XX.
462.
Immunity, XII. 254.
Immutability, XII. 254.
Imola, Italian city, XII. 254.
Impact of bodies, laws of, XIV. 386.
Impannelling, in law, XII. 254.
Imparlance, in law, XII. 254.
Impeachment, XII. 254.
Impeccabiles, heretics, XII. 254.
Impeccability, XII. 254.
Impediments, in law, XII. 255.
Impenetrability, XII. 255.
Imperfect, XII. 255—Number, ib.
Imperial, XII. 255—Cities,in Germany,
ib.—Diet, ib.
Impetration, XII. 255.
Impey (Sir Elijah), V. 430, 435—charges
against, 450, 455.
Importation, taxes on, XXI. 115.
Imports into the United Kingdom, VIII.
781, 783.
Imposition of hands, XII. 255; XI. 130.
Impossible, XII. 255.
Impost, in architecture, III. 468.
Impotence, or Impotency, XII. 255-
causes of, XIV. 493.
Imprecation, XII. 255.
Impregnation, XVII. 685—organs of,
II. 824—of bees, IV. 529, 532. See
Generation.
Impression, XII. 256.
Impressment of seamen, XII. 255 ; V.
483 ; IX. 21 ; XVI. 54.
Imprisonment, XII. 256 ; XIV. 512—
false imprisonment, XII. 256.
Impromptu, XII. 256.
Imfrobation, in law, XII. 256.
Improvvisatori, XI. 544—female, in
Egypt, VIII. 529.
Impulsion, XII. 256—motion from, IV.
173; VIII. 345 ; XVII. 567, 571 —
explained by reaction, VIII. 387.
Impurity, XII. 256.
Imputation, XII. 256.
Imputed sin, XXI. 218, 226.
Inaccessible, XII. 256.
Inaclms, VII. 692.
Inalienable, XII. 256.
Inanimate, XII. 256.
Inanition, XII. 256.
Inanity, XII. 256.
Inauguration, XII. 256.
INC—IND
Inca, insect, IX. 161.
Incas of Peru, XII. 256 ; XVII. 292, et
seq.—their government, II. 625.
Incada, port of, IV. 660.
Incameration, XII. 256.
Incandescence, XI. 192; XIII. 330.
Incantation, XII. 256—magical incan¬
tations, XIII. 680.
Incapacity, in canon law, XII. 257.
Incarnation, XII. 257.
Incarnatives, in surgery, XII. 257.
Incendiary, XII. 257. See Fire-raising.
Incense, XII. 257 ; VI. 492.
Inceptive, XII. 257.
Incest, XII. 257—spiritual, ib.
Inch, XII. 257.
Inchbald (Mrs), her novels, XIX. 346.
Inchcolm, island, XII. 257.
Inchgarvie, island, XII. 258.
Inchigeela, lake, VII. 329.
Inchkeith, island, XII. 257—lighthouse
on, IX. 766.
Inchmarnoch, V. 752.
Inchoative, XII. 258—Verbs, ib.
Incidence, XII. 258—angle of, III. 129.
Incident, XII. 258—diligence, ib.
Incineration, in chemistry, XII. 258.
Incisive, XII. 258.
Incisor teeth, in man, II. 780—in the
lower animals, III. 34.
Incle, XII. 258; X. 559.
Inclination, XII. 258.
Inclined plane, XII. 258 ; XIV. 362—
motion of bodies on, 381—for canals,
XVI. 30.
Inclosure of waste lands in England,
VIII. 764, 767.
Incognito, XII. 258.
Incombustible, XII. 258—Cloth, ib.
See Asbestos.
Income, effect of war-expenditure on
that of Individuals, VII. 161—taxes
on, XXI. 106.
Income-tax, V. 487—repealed, 511.
Incommensurable, XII. 258—numbers,
259—quantities, XIII. 37.
Incompatible, XII. 259.
Incorporeal, XII. 259.
Incorruptibles, sect, XII. 259.
Incubation, XVII. 712.
Incubus, XII. 259 ; VIII. 189.
Incumbent, XII. 259.
Incurvation of rays, XII. 259.
Indefeasible, in law, XII. 259.
Indemnity, in law, XII. 259.
Indenture, in law, XII. 259.
Independencia, XI. 19.
Independents, XII. 259—English, in
the 17th century, V. 329, et seq.
Inderabia, XII. 264 ; III. 111.
Indeterminate, XII. 264—Problems,
in algebra, II. 476.
Index, XII. 264—Expurgatorius, ib. ;
IV. 628.
India, or Hindustan, XII. 264—meta¬
physical and ethical remains of, I. 203
—British troops in, III. 620—infanti¬
cide in, 629—early history of, 685—
Mahommedan empire in, 687, 689 ;
XVII. 263 — conquered by Sultan
Baber, III. 690—rise of British power
in, 690—knowledge of the ancients
respecting, 696—commerce of, 700,
701—botany, V. 77—Were its supersti¬
tions borrowed from, or given to,
Egypt? 181—Mr Dundas’s measure
respecting, 428—discussion in Parlia¬
ment in 1788, as to the payment of
troops sent to, 449—war with Hyder
AH and Tippoo, 460, 462—Burmese
war, 567 ; XI. 440—cloth-manufac¬
tures, VI. 20—mode of cooling apart¬
ments and collecting ice, VII. 58, 59
—yields no tribute to Britain, 117—
British colonial possessions, 125—
effects of British dominion, ib.—trade
with Europe in the middle ages, 157—
exports from Britain to, 161—alleged
rapidity of fortune-making in, 168—
cotton-manufacture, 395 — cotton¬
wool, 405-6 — ancient temples and
idols, 696—Danish settlements, 728
—diamonds, VIII. 3 —calico-printing,
IND—INF
338—emigration to, 688—method of
forming ice in, IX. 4 33—Alexander’s
expedition to, X. 390; XIII. 634—
monumental inscriptions in, XII. 291
languages ot, XIII. 81—necessity
for a code of laws in, 184—libraries
in, 318—trade with London, 500 
invaded by Timour, XV. 318—coins
of, 408, 412 —inland navigation,
XVE 3—ancient philosophy, V. 180 ;
XVII. 427—table-land, 503—heights
of mountains, 505—cataracts, 525-
plague in, 778 — colonized by the
Egyptians, 385 ; XVIII. 339—settle¬
ment of the Portuguese in, 465—post
to, 489 —silk-worms in, XX. 352—
suicide in, 797 —woods of, XXI. 299
—weights and measures, 853—wool,
921-map of, XI. PI. 286. See East
India Company, Hindus, Bengal,
Calcutta, Clive, Hastings, fire.
India Rubber. See Caoutchouc.
Indian, XII. 264.
 Corn. See Maize.
  Ink, XII. 280.
 Island, XII. 264.
 Ocean, currents in, XVII. 517.
Indiana, XII. 265—canals in, XVI. 26 ;
XXI. 4 72—state-bonds, 479.
Indianapolis, in Indiana, XII. 267.
Indication, in physic, XII. 267.
Indicative mode, XII. 267; X. 660.
Indicator, bird, XVI. 598.
Indiction, XII. 267 ; VI. 661—cycle
of, 9 ; VII. 573.
Indictment, in law, XII. 267.
Indigenous, XII. 267.
Indigestion, XII. 267—in the domestic
animals, XXI. 623. See Digestion.
Indigetes, XII. 267.
Indigo, XII. 267; XI. 380-of Bengal,
IV. 565 ; Java, XII. 529; Mexico,
XIV. 801—formerly raised in Am-
boyna, II. 598—colouring matter of,
VI. 485—indigo-gluten, 486—indigo-
brown, ib.—indigo-red, ib.—indigo-
blue, 487 — reduced indigo, ib.—its
introduction as a dye-stuff, VIII. 297
constituents of, 325—its use in dyeing,
ib—specific gravity of, XII. 31—in¬
digo test in bleaching, V. 685.
Indigotic acid, VI. 430.
Indio river, XVI. 783.
Individual, XII. 268 ; III. 161.
Individuality, faculty of, XVII. 463.
Indivisible, XII. 268.
Indivisibles, in geometry, XII. 268.
Indorsement, XII. 268 ; IX. 456, 458.
Indre, in France, XII. 268.
 and Loire, in France, XII. 268.
Indris, in zoology, XIV. 97.
Induction, XII. 269 ; XIII. 453-Aris-
totle on, III. 513—a just logic, XVII.
446 — known before Socrates, XX.
464—much employed by him, 465.
 , electrical, VIII. 593.
Indulgences, XII. 269.
Indult, XII. 269.
Indulto, Spanish tax, XII. 269.
Indus, river, XII. 269 ; II. 212 ; III, 676
—passed by Alexander the Great,
XIII. 634—his voyage down the, 637,
638—navigation of the, XVI.’ 3—
mouths of the, XX. 361.
Indusium, in botany, V. 45.
Inebriants, XII. 270.
Inertia, XII. 270; VIII. 353 ; XVII.
569—centre of, XIV. 372—of air,
XVIII. 70.
Inescutcheon; in heraldry, XI. 251.
In Esse, XII. 270.
Infalistacio, XII. 270.
Infallible, XII. 271—popish doctrine
of infallibility, XVIII. 405.
Infamy, in law, XII. 271.
Infancy, XII. 271; XIV. 205, 493;
XV. 456—pleasures of, XVIII. 54.
Infants, XII. 271—size and weight of,
11.758—skulls of, 782—instincts of,
XII. 296, 301—nursing of, XIV. 205,
509; XVI. 310—mortality of, XIV.
206. See Foetus.
Infanticide, XIV. 496 ; XVII. 462—
82
INDEX
INF—INK
sanctioned by Aristotle, III. 528—in
China, VI. 557, 587 ; Cutch, VII. 564 ;
India, III. 629 ; New Holland, IV.
209 ; the South Sea Islands, III. 628 5
Sparta, XX. 528.
Infant, in law, XII. 271.
Infante and Infanta, XII. 271.
Infantky, XII. 271. See Army.
Infatuate, XII. 271.
Infeftment, in Scotch law, XII. 271.
Infebi*, sacrifices, XII. 271.
Infibblation, XII. 271.
Infidel, XII. 271.
Infidelity, XII. 271. See Atheism,
Deism.
Infinite, XII. 273—Quantities, ib.—
Series, II. 467.
Infinitesimals, XII. 273.
Infinitive mood, XII. 273; X. 664.
Infinity, XII. 273; XIV. 667.
Infibmaey, XII. 273—Edinburgh Royal,
VIII. 426.
Inflammability, XII. 273.
Inflammation, a disease, XVII. 127 —
treatment of, in animals, XXI. 613—
of the stomach and other organs in
cattle, 625, et seq.
Inflata), insects, IX. 270.
Inflation, XII. 273.
Inflection, in optics, XII. 273; XVI.
433—in grammar, XII. 273—point
of, ib.
Inflorescence, in botany, V. 40.
Influenza, in horses and dogs, XXI. 630.
Influx, definition of the word, I. 254.
Information, in law, XII. 273.
Informek, in law, XII. 273.
Infraction, XII. 274.
Infralapsarii, sect, XII. 274.
Infcla, ancient mitre, XII. 274.
Infundibulum, molluscum, XV. 349.
Infusion, in pharmacy, XII. 244.
Infusoria, III. 180—obscurity of their
origin,162—physiology of, XVII. 723.
Ingatestone, in Essex, XII. 274.
Ingelmunster, XII. 274.
Ingenhousz (John), XII. 274—on the
composition of the atmosphere, IV.
134—on the electricity of the torpedo,
VIII. 610—his electrical machines,
64 3—his opposition to Mesmer, XIV. 7.
Ingenuous, XII. 275.
Ingeram, Indian town, XII. 275.
Ingesta, XII. 275.
Ingham (Hon. S. D.), experiments on
the force of steam made at his request,
XX. 588, 596.
Inglebert (St), justs of, VI. 608.
Inglewood forest, IV. 573.
Inglis (Captain), anecdote of, at the
battle of Camperdown, V. 482 ; VIII.
277, n. 1.
 Island, XII. 275.
Ingluvies, in birds, XII. 275.
Ingoldstadt, in Bavaria, XII. 275.
Ingot, XII. 275.
Ingrafting, XI. 635.
Ingrassias (J. P.), his contributions to
anatomy, II. 696.
Ingratitude, XII. 275.
Ingress, in astronomy, XII. 276.
Ingrosser, in law, XII. 276.
InGulphus, abbot, XII. 276.
Inhabitiveness, XVII. 462.
Inheritance, XII. 276—Mosaic law of,
XV. 566—right of, XVIII. 662.
Inhibition, in law, XII. 276.
Inia, in zoology, XIV. 172.
Inistioge, Irish town, XII. 277.
Initiated, XII. 277.
Injection, XII. 277 —of vessels, in
anatomy, II. 699 ; XVII. 728—organs
capable and incapable of, II. 731—in¬
jections for domestic animals, XXI.
614, n. 2.
Injunction, in law, XII. 277.
Ink, XII. 277—black, ib.—Indian, 280
—red, ib.; VIII. 311—blue, XII. 280-
printing, ib.; XVIII. 560—lithogra¬
phic, XII. 280 ; XIII. 882—Indian,
XII. 280—sympathetic, ib.; VII. 505
—ineffaceable, XIV. 495—China, XV.
352—inky secretion of mollusca, ib.
INL—INT
Inkle-wares, X. 559.
Inlaid work, XIV. 257.
Inland, XII. 281.
 Navigation. See Navigation.
Inlease-d, XII. 281.
Inmates, XII. 281.
Inn-, XII. 281—river, IV. 459.
Inns, XII. 281—of Court, ib.; XIII.
527—of Chancery, XII. 282.
Innate ideas, XII. 282; XIV. 601.
See Ideas.
Innateness of the mental faculties of
man, XVII. 456.
Innerlochy, in Inverness-shire, XII.
332—battle of, V. 327.
Inner Temple, XII. 282.
Innisfail, in Ireland, XII. 282.
Innisfallen, Lake, XII. 282.
Innishannon, Irish town, XII. 282.
Innishirkan, island, XII. 282.
Inniskilling, XII. 282 ; IX. 57, 518.
Innismurray, island, XX. 392.
Innispatrick, VIII. 234.
Innocent’s day, XII. 282.
Innocent III. (Pope), his dispute with
King John, VIII. 721-2 — his pro,
ceedings against the Albigenses, XII.
283.
Innuendo, in law, XII. 282.
Innuus, in zoology, XIV. 93.
Innycotta, Hindu town, XII. 282.
Ino, in fabulous history, XII. 282.
Inoa, Greek festivals, XII. 282.
Inoculation, XII. 282—for small-pox,
ib. — Condamine on, VII. 200 — its
adoption in France, X. 37—intro¬
duced into England, XV. 424.
Inorganic bodies, II. 684.
 Chemistry, VI. 358.
Inquisition, XII. 283 ; XVI. 651—in¬
troduced into Portugal, XVIII. 465—
in Spain, XX. 498.
Insalivation, XVII. 627—organs of, in
brutes, III. 34. See Saliva.
Insanity—its relation to genius and the
liability to see apparitions, III. 306
—in medical jurisprudence, XIV. 494,
528—a bar to the execution of a cri¬
minal, XIV. 513—partial, XVII. 459.
See Mental Diseases, Dsemoniac.
Inscribed, in geometry, XII. 290.
Inscriptions, XII. 290 — French Aca¬
demy of, II. 7 5—characters of abbre¬
viations in, VI. 323.
Inscrutable, in theology, XII. 293.
Insecta, XVII. 587.
Insects, IX. 59—eyes of, III. 25—in
gardens, XI. 68 8, n.—means of destroy¬
ing noxious, XII. 293 ; XXI. 602. See
Entomology.
Insectivora, XIV. 102—bones of, III.
7—structure of, XVII. 704.
Insessores, birds, XVI. 567.
Insinuation, XII. 295.
Insolvent, XII. 295 ; IV. 347.
Inspector, XII. 295.
Inspiration, XII. 295 ; XIX. 780.
Inspissating, in pharmacy, XII. 295.
Inspruck, Austrian city, XII. 295.
Installation, XII. 296.
Instalment, XII. 296.
Instant, XII. 296.
Instauration, XII. 296.
Insterburg, Prussian city, XII. 296.
Instinct, XII. 296; XVII. 560; I. 388;
IV. 524 ;—Paley’s view of, I. 226—
weakened in animals by domestica¬
tion, III. 162—of bees, IV. 524; in¬
sects, IX. 89 ; pointers, XX. 309, 310;
plants,XXI. 587—instinctive motions,
XVII. 677.
Institutes, XII. 306 — of Justinian,
VI. 717—National Institute of France,
XII.'306; II. 70 ; X. 99.
Institution, XII 306.
Instrument, XII. 306.
Insubria, Hannibal’s invasion of, VI.
197.
Insurance, XII. 307—impolicy cf taxes
on, VII. 176—bad effects of marine,
XX. 293—average, IV. 250. See
Annuities, Life, Probability.
Insurance-Offices in London, XIXL 509.
INT—INY
Intaglios, XII. 319.
Integer, XII. 319.
Integral, XII. 319.
 Calculus, XII. 319 ; IX. 675.
Integration, problem of, I. 528.
Integuments of human body, XVII. 605.
Intellect, XII. 319—Aristotle on, III.
507—pleasures of the, XV. 468.
Intendant, XII. 319.
Intendment, XII. 319.
Intent, in law, XII. 319.
Intention, XII. 319.
Intercalary, XII. 319.
Intercession, XII. 319 ; XVIII. 406.
Intercessor, XII. 319.
Intercolumniation, in architecture,
XII. 319 ; III. 468.
Intercommuning, letters of, V. 350, n.
Intercostal, XII. 319 — action of
muscles inbreathing, XVIII. 123.
Interdict, XII. 319.
Interest, XII. 319 ; XV. 393 ; XVIII.
265, n. 1—application of algebra to
calculations of, II. 473—Tables of in¬
crease of L.l at compound, III. 231-2
-—calculation of, 556—on accounts
current, IV. 791—in ancient Athens,
171—-impolicy of limiting the rate of,
VII. 171, 175—usury, XXL 532.
Interference of light, XVI. 426; XVIII.
233.
Interim, XII. 328.
Interjections, in grammar, XII. 328 ;
X. 672, 682, 685.
Interlocutor, XII. 328.
Interlocutory decree, XII. 328 —
judgments, 329—order, ib.
Interlopers, XII. 329.
Interlude, XII. 329.
Intermaxillary bones of the mammalia,
HI. 5.
Interment, XII. 329. See Burial.
Intermittent or intermitting fever,
XII. 331 ; XVII. 486.
Internodia, V. 33.
Interpolation, XII. 231—easy mode
of computing logarithms by, XIII.
430.
Interposition, XII. 231.
Interpreter, XII. 231.
Interregnum, XII. 231.
Interrex, XII. 231.
Interrogation, XII. 231.
Interscendent, in algebra, XII. 281.
Intersection, in mathematics, XII. 231.
Interval, XH. 231—in music, XII.
231 ; XV. 608.
Intestate, in law, XII. 332.
Intestinal worms, III. 162 ; XXI. 991.
Intestines, anatomy of the, II. 815—
functions of, XVII. 582, 631, 632—
in brutes, 702, ct seq. ; III. 37—their
length in proportion to that of the
body in different animals, ib.—mucus
of the, VI. 497—of insects, IX. 84—
obstruction of, in the domestic ani¬
mals, XXI. 626. See Ichthyology,
Ornithology, &c.
Intolerance, effects of, III. 266.
Intonation, in music, XII. 332.
Intoxication. See Drunkenness, Ine-
briants. Opium, Spirits, &e.
Intrasca, in Sardinia, XII. 332.
Intrenchment, XII. 332.
Intrigue, XII. 332.
Intrinsic, XII. 332.
Introduction, XII. 332.
Intuition, XII. 332—as a ground of
judgment, XIII. 439, 446—intuitive
evidence, XII. 332 ; XIV. 439.
Intussusceptio, disease, XXI. 626.
Inulin, VI. 476.
Inundation, XII. 332—of rivers, XVII.
525. See Deluge.
Invalid, XII. 332.
Invected, in heraldry, XII. 332.
Invective, in rhetoric, XII. 332.
Invention, XII. 332—musical, XV.
641.
Inverary, Scotch town, XII. 332.
Inverbervie, Scotch town, XII. 332.
Inveresk, XV. 647.
Invebkeithing, XII. 332.
INV—IRE
Inverlochy, in Inverness-shire, XII.
332—battle of, V. 327.
Inverness, XII. 332 — vitrified fort
near, IX. 757.
Inverness-shire, XII. 334—fisheries
of, IX. 602. See Caledonian Canal.
Inverse, XII. 337.
Inversion, XII. 337—in style, VII. 291.
Invertebrata, characteristics of, III. 172
—their organs of smell, 21.
Inverted, in music, XII. 337.
Inverury, Scotch town, XII. 337.
Investigation, XII. 337.
Investiture, in law, XII. 337.
Invocation, XII. 337.
Invoice, XII. 337; IV. 781.
Invoice-Book, IV. 781.
Involucella, in botany, V. 40.
Involucrum, XII. 337 ; III. 96; V. 40.
Involution, in algebra, XII. 337 ; II.
433.
lo, daughter of Inachus, XII. 337.
Iodic acid, VI. 361.
Iodides, VI. 455—of antimony, 385—
arsenic, 383—bismuth, 417 — cad¬
mium, 411—carbon, 370—copper, 415
—cyanogen, 434—glucinum, 399—gold,
420—iron, 404—lead, 412—mercury,
418—nickel, 408—molybdenum, 390
—phosphorus, 381—platinum, 422—
potassium, 393—silver, 419—sulphur,
376—tellurium, 379—tin, 414 —zinc,
410.
Iodine, VI. 361—Sir H. Davy on, VII.
641—specific gravity of, XII. 31—poi¬
sonous quality of, XIV. 503.
   acids, VI. 432.
 acid salts, VI. 455.
lodous acid, VI. 362.
loh, Egyptian deity, VIII. 552.
Iolaia, Theban festival, XII. 337.
Iolas, son of Iphielus, XII. 337.
lolite, XV. 156—sp, gr. of, XII. 31—
optical properties of, XVI. 494.
Ion, XII. 338.
Iona, island, XII. 338 ; VII. 129 ; XIX.
698, 705; XX. 470.
Ionia, in Asia Minor, XII. 339.
Ionian Islands, XII. 340—weights and
measures of, XXL 854.
Ionic dialect, XII. 347 ; XVII. 404-
characters, 396—sect of philosophers,
XII. 347 ; XVII. 431.
 order of architecture, III. 472,
460—its origin, 416—modern Italian,
425, 451—Greek, 435, 439—Roman,
449.
Ionium Mare, XII. 347.
Ipecacuanha, alkali in, VI. 465.
Iphicrates, XII. 347 ; XXI. 196.
Ipiiigenia, XII. 347.
Iponomeuta, insect, IX. 253.
Ipsamboul, temple of, XVI. 296.
Ipswich, town in Suffolk, XII. 347.
Irak, Persian province, XII. 348.
Irapuato, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Irascible, XII. 348.
Irbil, III. 3? 5.
Irbit, Russian town, XII. 348.
Ireg, Austrian town, XII. 348.
Ireland, XII. 349—history of, ib.—sta¬
tistics, 389—Royal Irish Academy,
II. 73—Irish alphabet, 550—crom¬
lechs, III. 407—bagpipe, IV. 282—
Bibles, 619—language, XIII. 86, 93;
XVII. 378,415—attempts of James L
to civilize it, V. 307—rebellion of
1641, 319—under William and Mary,
362, et seq.—invaded by James tlie
Second, 363—battle of the Boyne, 363;
VIII. 200—treaty of Limerick, 5.
364—Irish House of Lords deprived
of their right of final jurisdiction, 377
—measures in Parliament relative to.
in the reign of George the Third, V.
428, 437—Irish proceedings as to the
regency question, 454—invaded by the
French, 480 ; X. 104, 109—rebellion
in 1798, V. 484 ; XV. 451 —union
with Britain proposed, V. 487 ; ef¬
fected, 493 — disturbances in 1803,
545—discussions on Catholic eman¬
cipation, ib., 546, 552, 559, 561, 563>
IND
83
EX.
IRE—IRO
878—distress and disturbances in 18 22,
V. 555 — discussions in Parliament
respecting, in 1823, 559 ; in 1824,
561; in 1825, 563—Catholic Associa-
tfon, 562, 563, 568. 574; suppressed,
576—passing of the emancipation-act,
ib. —disfranchisement of the forty
shilling freeholders, 677—repeal agi¬
tation in 1830, 580—passing of the
reform-act, 584—corn-laws of, VII.
343—agriculture, ib.—causes of the
recent improvement of, 344—influence
of the exportation of corn to Britain
from, 351—amount of the corn ex¬
ported, 360—coronach, 372—’effects
ofthe minute division of land, 388, n.;
390 — indolence of the people, ib.—
cotton-manufacture, 415—the Earl of
Essex’s expedition to, 744—over-po¬
pulation, VIII. 688—trade with Eng¬
land, 779—shipping, 786—exchange
between'Britain and, IX. 442—fishe¬
ries, 604—horses, XI. 591—rate of
interest, XII. 324 — linen manu¬
facture, XIII. 359—variation of the
needle, 734—militia, XV. 70—coal,
XIII. 222 ; XV. 245—money, XV. 400
—canals, XVI. 22—banking, XVII.
44—height of mountains, 506—lakes,
523—police, XVIII. 252—poor-law,
367—increase of population, 411—
post-offlee, 488, 494—prisons, 583—
the Reformation, XIX. 96—roads, 299
—popery, 317—lighthouses. XX. 29
—expense of raising taxes, XXI. 99
— spirit-duties, 122—Ordnance-sur¬
vey, 360—schools, 529—woollen ma¬
nufacture of, 929—map of, vol. XII.
PI. CCCVIII-1 and CGCVIII-2. See
Grattan, Towers (Round), Dublin,
Cork, Giant’s Causeway, &c.
Ireland (New). See New Ireland.
Ikkk^us (St), XII. 427.
Irene, empress, XII. 427.
Irideee, in botany, V. 133.
Iridescence, XV. 128.
Iridium, VI. 423—native, XV. 165—
salts of protoxide of, VI. 452—sp. gr.
of, XII. 31—discovery of, XXI. 180.
Iris, colours, XII. 427.
 of the eye, II. 798 ; XVII. 667,
669—in brutes, III. 24.
 , flower, culture of, XI. 683.
 , .or rainbow, XII. 427 ; XVII.
542. See Rainbow.
Irivan, IX. 360.
Irjah, Afghan town, XII. 427.
Irkootsk, in Russia, XII. 427.
Irnerius, lectures of, XXI. 488.
Iron, in chemistry, VI. 402—in minera¬
logy, XV. 162—transmission of sound
by, II. 113—best kind for anchors,
III. 108—aqueduct-pipes of, 320 —
used for aqueducts of canals, 322—
bridges of, 392; V. 272, 278; XX.
810—Mr Nicholson’s project for the
employment of iron rods in roofs, VI.
169—compounds of, 402—cast-irtm,
404—salts of oxides of, 448—crystal¬
lization of ores of, VII. 517, et seq.—
—peroxide of, a mordant, VIII. 339—
protochloride and sulphate of, em¬
ployed for discharging colours, 340—
guns of, XI. 67,70—specific gravity of,
XII. 31—magnetic power of, XIII.
687, 709—attracted by magnets, 702—
effect of heat on its magnetic power,
716 — process of cutting steel with
soft iron, XIV.«457—meteoric, 712—
sparry, XV. 142—blue, 147—iron-ore,
162—native, 165—its presence in the
blood, XVII. 636—permanent expan¬
sion of cast-iron, XVIII. 755—expan¬
sion at casting, ib.—cables of, XX. 55
—ballast and tanks in ships, 56—its
influence in'causing decay of timber,
273—its use for beams of ships, 289-
strength of, for fastenings of ships,
296 — chemical constitution of hot-
blast iron, XX. 412—its strength, 413
—Spartan money made of, 530—its
qualities as a material for steam-en¬
gine boilers, 676, et seq.—steam-boats
IRO—ISI
of, 691—cohesion of, 756 — turning
of, XXI. 429. See Iron-making, Iron-
mines, &c.
Iron-flint, XV. 157.
Iron-founders, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Iron-glance, XV. 162.
Iron-making, XII. 428 ; VI. 402 ; XV.
246; XX. 406—at Glasgow, X. 559 ;
XIII. 49. See Furnace, Smelting.
Iron-manufactures, of France, X. 182—
Ireland, XII. 405—Spain, XX. 519—
the United States, XXI. 465—anneal¬
ing of iron, III. 196—bluing, IV. 720
—bronzing, V. 589—tinning, XIII.
119—turning, XXI. 429—Carron iron¬
works, XX. 733. See Casting, Cut¬
lery, Farriery, Foundry, Gun-making,
Hardware, Steel.
Iron-mines of Bavaria, IV. 459—Brazil,
V. 199,208—Britain, XV. 245—Clack¬
mannanshire, VI. 721—Cumberland,
VII. 537—Derbyshire, 735—Devon¬
shire, 745 — England, VIII. 768 —
Europe, IX. 409—France, X. 178—
Glamorganshire, 532—Hindustan, XI.
384—Mexico, XIV. 804—Monmouth¬
shire, XV. 418—San Paulo, XVII.
160—Roscommon, XIX. 478—Russia,
567, 576—Scotland, 749—Shropshire,
622—Staffordshire, XX. 558—Suma^
tra, 804—Sweden, XXI. 31—Tennes¬
see, 182—the United States, 454. See
the geographical articles generally.
Iron-pyrites, in mineralogy, XV. 167.
Iron-stone, XII. 440—specific gravity of,
31—kind used in Britain for smelt¬
ing, VI. 88. See Iron-making.
Ieont, XII. 445—improper in history,
X. 505—much used in conversation
by Socrates, XX. 466.
Iroquois, XII. 445—their war with the
Algonquins, II. 512—their numbers,
617—tribes comprehended by, 619.
Irradiation, XII. 445.
Irrawaddy, river, III. 676 ; IV. 240.
Irregular, XII. 445.
Irrigation, XII. 445—in Afghanistan,
II. 212—Bengal, IV. 566—Cambridge¬
shire, VI. 34—Chili, 524—China, 579
—Delhi, VII. 684—Egypt, VIII. 514,
550—the north of Italy, XII. 484 ;
XIII. 470—Norway, XVI. 265—Per¬
sia, XVII. 242'.
Irritability, XII. 456 ; XVII. 132.
Irrogatio, in Roman law, XII. 457.
Irromango, island, XII. 457.
Irtish, Asiatic river, XII. 457.
Irvine, town in Ayrshire, XII. 457.
 (Dr),on heat, XI. 193, 194.
Irving (Dt David), XIII. 301, 302.
 (Washington), his Life of Colum¬
bus quoted, VII. 130, et seq.
Irwan, IX. 360.
Irwell, river, XIII. 50—aqueduct over
the. III. 322—its navigation, XVI. 16.
Isaac, Jewish patriarch, XII. 458.
Isabella and Ferdinand, XX. 498.
 II. of Spain, XX. 511. ,
Is .’BUS, XII. 458—oratory of, XIX. 215.
Isagoras, IV. 149.
Isaiah, XII. 458—style of, XVHI. 147.
Isaura and Isauria, XII. 458.
Isca Dumniorum, XII. 458.
Isca SlLUBUM, XII. 458.
Ischalis, in ancient Britain, XII. 458.
Ischia, island, XII. 458; XV. 699.
Ischuria, a disease, XII. 458;
Iselastics, ancient games, XII. 458.
Iselworth, in Middlesex, XII. 458.
Isenberg, in Hesse Cassel, XII. 458.
Iseo, lake, XII. 484 ; XHI. 469.
Iser, river, IV. 459.
Isere, in France, XII. 458.
Iserine, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Iserlon, Prussian city, XII. 459.
Ish, in Scotch law, XII. 459.
Ishmael, III. 340.
Isia, Roman feasts, XII. 459.
Isiac Table, XII. 459.
Isiaci, ancient priests, XH. 459.
IsipoRUS DamiatansiS,, XII. 459.
 of Miletus, his plan for support¬
ing the dome ol the church of St So-
ISI—IT A
phia at Constantinople, III. 380,
389.
Isinglass, XII. 149—its use iu clarify¬
ing, VI. 727.
Isis, Egyptian deity, XII. 459 ; VIII.
552 ; V. 620; XI. 320; XV. 659—
mysteries of, 664—temple of, in the
island of Phil®, VIII. 530.
 , English river, XII. 459.
Isjum, Russian city, XII. 459.
Isla de la Gente Hermoga, XII. 459.
 de Leon, Spanish city, XII. 460.
———, Scotch river, IX. 745.
 , or Ha, island, XII. 245.
Islam, XII. 460. See Mahommedanism.
Islamabad, in Bengal, XII. 460.
Islamnagur, Hindu town, XII. 460.
Islampoor, Hindu town, XII. 460.
Island, XII. 460 ; X. 407—emergence
of volcanic islands, IV. 264—climate
of islands, VI. 763.
Isle, French city, XII. 460.
Isle of France. See Mauritius.
Isle river navigation, XVI. 6.
Islebians, heretics, XII. 460.
Islington, in Middlesex, XII. 460.
Ismaelites, XII. 460.
Ismail, Russian town, XII. 460.
Ismarus, Thracian town, XII. 460'.
Ismid, in Asia Minor, XII. 460.
Ismik, in Asia Minor, XII. 460.
Isocardia, in conchology, XV. 342.
Isochronal, XII. 461—line, ib.
Isocrates, XII. 461; XX. 461—oratory
of, XIX. 215.
Isoperimetrical Figures, XII. 461;
XIV. 320—Bernouilli’s problem of,
IV. 591.
Isopoda, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Isosceles Triangle, XII. 461.
Isothermal lines, XI. 197, 371, 377—
Humboldt on, VI. 764.
Ispahan, Persian city, XII. 461.
Ispira, Turkish town, XII. 463.
Israel, a name of Jacob, XII. 463.
Israelites, XII. 463. See Jews.
Issachar, in Palestine, XII. 463.
Issengeaux, in France, XII. 463.
Issin, Persian town, XII. 463.
Issoire, in France, XII. 463.
Issoudun, in France, XII. 463.
Issue, in law, XII. 463.
Issurdu, Hindu town, XII. 463.
Issus, XII. 463—battle of, XIII. 632.
 , insect, IX. 203.
Istakhar, in Persia, XII. 463.
Isthmia, Greek games, XII. 463.
Isthmus, XII. 463; X. 407.
Istiurus, reptile, XIX. 143.
Istria, in Italy, XII. 463.
Istrias (Count Capo d’), X. 750-1.
Itacolumi, II. 609 ; V. 198.
Italian language, formation of the,
XIII. 87—bibles, IV. 617.
Italians, their imaginative and reason¬
ing powers, I. 203—skulls, II. 784.
Italic character, in printing, XIV. 237.
  school of ancient philosophy,
XVII. 431.
Italica, Spanish town,-XII. 463.
Italy, XII. 464—metaphysical writers
of 18th century, I. 202—early culti,
vation of algebra in, II. 422—collec¬
tions of bon-mots, or Ana, 677—culti¬
vation of anatomy, 692, et seq.—mo¬
dem architecture of, III. 421, 423,
451, 474—pointed architecture, 422
—domestic architecture, 447—Asiatic
commerce in the middle ages, 698—
Austrian dominions, IV. 228—bo¬
tanists, V. 82 — Bonaparte’s cam¬
paigns, 479 ; X. 99, et seq.; XV. 715,
et seq.—effects of the French occupa¬
tion of, V. 536—Hannibal’s invasion,
VL 196; XIX. 386—cotton-manufac¬
ture, VI. 420—condition at the time
ofthe Crusades, VII. 489—trade with
England, VIII. 779—revival of the
drama, VIII’. 153 — tragedy, 157 —
libraries, XIII. 308—variation of the
needle, 734, 736—rise of commerce,
XV. 745—newspapers, XVI. 173—
birds, SSI—schools of painting, 708,
ITA—JAC
728 ; III. 646—height of mountains,
XVII. 606—lakes, 523—the sirocco,
541—the plague, 777—poets, XVIII.
158 — political economists, 268 —
the Reformation, XIX. 95—roads, 299
religion, 316—romance, 330, 349—
sculpture, XX. 8—inferiority of wines,
XXI. 897—wine-making, 902—map
of, XII. PI. 318 and 319. See Italian,
Papal States, Rome, Naples, &c.
Itamarca, island, XVII. 237.
Itaparica, island, XIX. 628.
Itata, river, VI. 523.
Itch, XII. 489—cure of, 293.
Itch-insect, XII. 489.
Itchapour, Hindu town, XII. 489.
Itchin Navigation, XVI. 14.
Itea, in botany, XII. 489.
Ithaca, island, XII. 489, 841.
Ja'INERA^Y, XII. 489.
Itius Portus, XII. 489.
Iturbide, II. 639 ; XIV. 789.
Iturup, island, XII. 489.
Itys, in fabulous history, XII. 489.
Itzecuintepotzotli, XII. 489.
Itzehoe, Danish town, XII. 490.
Iulus, XII. 490—insects, XV. 652.
Iva, genus of plants, XII. 490.
Ivahah, canoe, XII. 490.
Ivan VI., reign of, XIX. 547.
 =*>— Vasiluvitch, XIX. 534.
 Vasiluvitch II., XIX. 535.
Ivel, river, XI. 284 — its navigation,
XVI. 14.
Ivelchester, or Ilchester, XII. 246 ;
XX. 476—canal to Langport, XVI. 14.
Iver, town in Bucks, XII. 490.
Ives (St), XII. 490.
Ivinghoe, town in Bucks, XII. 490.
Ivisa, island, XII. 490.
Ivison’s method of consuming the smoke
of furnaces, XX. 423.
Ivory, XII. 490—of different animals,
III. 32—specific gravity of, XII. 33—
tinging of, XXL 430.
 Coast, XI. 29.
 (Sir James), his estimate of the
earth’s ellipticity, I. 661—completed
the demonstration of the earth’s
figure, ib.; IX. 551—on the orbits of
comets, VII. 139—his formula repre¬
senting law of relation between tem¬
perature and force of steam, XX. 595.
Ivry, French town, XII. 491.
Ivy, claspers of, III. 86—juice, XII. 620
—specific gravity of its gum, 32.
Ixia, genus of plants, XII. 491.
Ixion, XII. 491.
Ixodes, genus of arachnides, III. 368.
Ixora, genus of plants, XII. 491.
Ixos, bird, XVI. 572.
Ixworth, town in Suffolk, XII. 491.
Izarn (M.), on meteorolites, XIV. 714.
J
Jabesh, city of Manasseh, XII. 492.
Jablonka, Austrian town, XII. 492.
Jablonski (Danlel-Ernest), XII. 492—
his Hebrew Bible, IV. 614—on Cop¬
tic, XI. 314.
 (Pacl-Ernest), XII. 492.
 (Theodore), XII. 493.
Jaca, Spanish city, XII. 493.
Jacamar, bird, XVI. 594.
Jacamar-alcyon, bird, XVI. 594.
Jacamerops, bird, XVI. 594.
Jacana, bird, XVI. 627.
Jacatra, in Java, XII. 498.
Jacchus, in zoology, XIV. 96.
Jack, XII. 493.
Jackal, XIV. 116.
Jackdaw, XVI. 584,
Jackson (General) Jhis distrust of
American banks, XXI. 475.
 (H.), on isinglass, XII. 149.
—  (Mr), a vender of brewer*’ drugs,
V. 252.
 (Mr), on wood-engraving, XXL
916-18
84
INDEX
JAC—JAM
Jackson, town in Mississippi, XV. 300.
 (Port), XXI. 712.
Jacob, Jewish patriarch, XII. 493.
 (Ben Hajim), XII. 493.
   ( Ben Naphtali), XII. 493..
 (Wm.), on continental agricul¬
ture, II. 252—on the foreign corn-
» trade, VII. 362, et seq.
Jacoba, XI. 710.
Jacobi of Petersburg on the art of mul¬
tiplying works of art in metal by vol¬
taic electricity, XXI. 682.
Jacobin Monks, XII. 493.
Jacobins, XII. 493 ; VIII. 108; X. 49,
et seq.
.Tacobina, town in Bahia, XIX. 627.
Jacobinism, X. 122.
Jacobites, XII. 493.
Jacobs on the precious metals, VII. 162.
Jacobson (Mr.), on the lethargy of rep¬
tiles, XIX. 126.
Jacobstadt, Russian town, XII. 493.
Jacobus, gold coin, XII. 493.
Jacotta, town in Cochin, XII. 493.
Jacou, bird, XVI. 605.
Jacquard-loom, XX. 193; XXI. 828.
Jacquerie (the), VI. 609.
Jacquin (Professor), V. 79.
Jactali, Hindu town, XII. 493.
Jacuhi, river, XIX. 245.
Jaen, in Spain, XII. 493-4.
Jaffa, VIII. 486 ; XVI. 741, 757—taken
by Mahommed Bey, VIII. 487 ; by
Bonaparte, 4 90—massacre of, XV.
726, n. ; XVI. 759.
Jaffiekabad, Hindu town, XII. 494.
Jafna, city in Ceylon, XII. 494.
JafNapatam, in Ceylon, XII. 494.
Jagepoor, Hindu town, XII. 494.
Jager, bird, XVI. 633.
Jagerndorf, Austrian city, XII. 494.
Jageron, Persian river, XII. 494.
Jaggard (Isaac), printer, XVIII. 554.
Jaggernaut. See Juggernaut.
Jaghire, XII. 494—tenure, XI. 444.
Jaghiredar, XII. 494.
Jago (Richard), poet, XII. 494.
■  (St), XII. 495. See Santiago.
 (St), town in Chili, XIX. 644.
Jago-cock, XVI. 609.
Jagraam, Hindu town, XII. 495.
Jaguar, XIV. 121 ; XVII. 552.
Jagueer. See Jaghire.
Jagueerdar. See Jaghiredar.
Jahde, German town, XII. 495.
Jahil, Hindu town, XII. 495.
Jahjow, Hindu village, XII. 495.
Jaillieu, French town, XII. 495.
Jains, a race of Hindus, XII. 495 ; "XI.
32—temples of, 408.
Jaiver, Hindu town, XII. 495.
Jajarcote, Hindu town, XII. 495.
Jajghur, Hindu town, XII. 495.
Jalapa, in Mexico, XIV. 816.
Jalappin, VI. 467.
Jalemus, XII. 495.
Jalisco, Mexican state, XIV. 814.
Jaloffs, XII. 495; XX. 93.
Jamadar, Hindu officer, XII. 495.
Jamaica, XII. 496—state of, in 1794,
V. 478—cinchona of, VI. 698—earth¬
quake in, XVII. 511—beautiful ap¬
pearance of fields of sugar-canes in,
XXL 791, n. 5.
Jamaicin, VI. 470.
Jamb, in architecture, III. 467.
Jamb-linings, in joinery, V. 689.
Jamblicus, XII. 505.
James (St), the Greater, XII. 505.
 (St), the Less, XII. 506.
 (St), French town, XII. 507.
 (St), palace of, XIII. 545.
 (St) of the Sword, XII. 506.
 I. of Scotland, XII. 506 ; XIX.
711—archery encouraged by, III. 399.
■  II. of Scotland, XIX. 712—fond
of Edinburgh, VIII. 412.
  III. of Scotland, XIX. 714—
Edinburgh in the reign of, VIII. 412.
■   IV., XIX. 717—Edinburgh in
the reign of, VIII. 412—large ship
built by, XX. 220.
  V., XII. 506; XIX. 720—his
JAM-JAR
knowledge of Latin, IV. 549, n. 6—
Edinburgh in the reign of, VIII. 412.
James VI. of Scotland, and I. of Eng¬
land, XII. 506 ; XIX. 740—his visit
to Tycho Brahe, V. 175 — taught
Latin by Geo. Buchanan, 631—Calder-
wood’s interview with, 793—Ids im¬
precation on the people of Edinburgh,
794—Edinburgh in the reign of, VIII.
413—his visit to that city in 1617,
ib.—University of Edinburgh founded
hy> XXI. 518. See the next article.
 I. of England, and VI. of Scot¬
land—reign of, V. 302—character of,
309—Archbishop Abbott’s flattery of,
II. 14—archery in bis reign, III. 399
—architecture, 428—creation of baro¬
nets, IV. 404 ; VI. 613—translation of
Bible, IV. 619—his Irish policy, XII.
367—his wish for law reform, XIII.
188—his navy, XVI. 41—shipping in
his reign, XX. 222—his zeal against
witchcraft, XXI. 907. See the pre¬
ceding article.
  — H, of England, his reign, V. 355
—abdication, 359—expedition to Ire¬
land, 363 ; XII. 376—death, V. 366
his residence in Edinburgh when
D. of York, VII. 597-8 ; VIII. 414—
was Lord High Admiral, 86—bis Par¬
liament in Dublin, 237 — his Irish
policy, XII. 375—his navy, XX. 226
— naval signals first reduced to a
system by, XX. 332.
  (Capt.), voyage of, XVIII. 218.
  (G. P. R.), novels of, XIX. 349.
 (Mr), notice of his mission to
Ashantee, III. 666.
 (Thomas), XII. 506.
 (Dr Robert), XII. 507.
 River, in Virginia, XXI. 658.
Jameson (George), artist, XII. 507.
Jamesonite, XV. 169 ; VI. 459.
Jamieson (Dr), on the songs of northern
nations, IV. 319—on the Scottish
language, IX. 42—on the Scythians,
X. 619.
Jampol, Russian town, XII. 507.
Jamtland, in Sweden, XII. 507.
Jamyn (Amadis), poet, XII. 507.
Janeiro. See Rio Janeiro.
Jani, his character of Alex. Cunning¬
ham, VII. 546.
Janiculum, XII. 508; XIX. 425.
Janipha, in botany, V. 67.
Janizaries, XII. 508; III. 612; XXL
425—institution of the, 411—insur¬
rections of, 416—destruction of, 417.
Jansen (Cornelius), XII. 508.
 (Zachai’ias), alleged inventor of
telescope, XVI. 354-5; II. 98, n. 2;
and of the microscope, XVI. 356.
Jansenists, French religious sect, XII.
508. See Predestination.
Janssen (Cornelius), painter, XII. 509.
Janssens (Victor H.), painter, XII. 509.
Jan Steen, XVI. 722.
Janthina, mollusca, XV. 348, 363.
Januaries (St), XII. 509—liquefaction
of his blood, IV. 710.
January, XII. 509—gardening opera¬
tions in, XI. 687.
Janus, XII. 510—temple of, ib.
Japan, XII. 510; XVI. 312—temples
and idols, VII. 696, 698—language,
XIII. 92—paper, XVII. 9—porcelain,
XVIII. 429, 434—serpents, XX. 133,
136—suicide, 798—weights and mea¬
sures, XXI. 853.
Japanning, XII. 522; IV. 649.
Japetus, XII. 524.
Japheth, son of Noah, XII. 524—des¬
cendants of, XVII. 356, 414.
Japydes, XII. 525.
Jaquelot (Isaac), XII. 525—on Leib¬
nitz’s theory of pre-established har¬
mony, I. 124.
Jar, XII. 525 — electrical, VIII. 568,
648.
Jaragua, gold-mines of, XVII. 158.
Jarbas, VI. 183.
Jarchi (Solomon), XII. 525.
Jardine (James), his Edinburgh water-
JAR—JEL
works, III. 321—on temperature of
Scottish lakes at different depths, VI.
749—on hydrodynamics, XII. 8.
Jardine (Sir Wm.), on the great lake-
trout, III. 142, n. 2—on birds, XVI.
553, 573.
Jardyn (Karel Du), painter, XII. 525.
Jarejahs, III. 629.
Jarensk, Russian town, XII. 525.
Jargeau, French town, XII. 525.
Jarmeritz, Austrian town, XII. 525.
Jarnac, French town, XII. 525.
Jaroslaw, XII. 525.
Jarro-war-nang, bird, XVI. 568.
Jarrol-wood of India, XXI. 300, 301.
Jasher (Book of), XII. 525.
Jaslo, in Austria, XII. 526.
Jasmin, specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Jasminacese, in botany, V. 119.
Jason,XII.526—statue of, VIII. PI. 195.
Jasper, XII. 526; XV. 157—Egyptian,
VIII. 518—specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Jasponyx, XII. 526.
Jassus, insect, IX. 204.
Jassy, Moldavian city, XII. 526.
Jastrow, Prussian city, XII. 526.
Jatrobdella, worm, XI. 225.
Jatto, in Benin, XVI. 223.
Jauer, Prussian city, XII. 526.
Jaulnay, French town, XII. 526.
Jaundice, XII. 526 ; XVII. 477—in
the domestic animals, XXI. 628.
Jauts, XII. 526 ; XI. 395—of Beika-
neer, IV. 608—of Bhurtpore, 611.
Java, XII. 527—spiders’webs in, III.
355—commerce of, III. 701—Hindu
temple in, V. 183 — extraordinary
cloud in, VII. 2—language of, XIII.
82—bats of, XIV. 99—weasels of,
110—earthquake in, XVII. 511—vol¬
canoes of, 513—upas-tree of, XVIII.
183—Valley of Death in, ib., n.—ser¬
pents of, XX. 136—weights and mea¬
sures of, XXI. 853—map of, vol. XII.
PI. CCCVII-2.
Javan poison, XIV. 506.
Javelin, XII. 533.
Jaw-bones, in man, II. 776, 778—in the
mammalia, III. 5, 6—in birds, 12—
muscles of the, II. 794.
Jaws, tumours of the, XX. 844.
Jawhar, VIII. 478.
Jaxt, in Wirtemberg, XII. 533.
Jay (Gui Michel Le), XII. 533.
 , bird, XVI. 584.
Jayes, Hindu town, XII. 534.
Jaynagur, Hindu town, XII. 534.
Jealousy, XII. 534—deformed persons
subject to, VII. 676.
Jean D’Angely, XII. 534.
Jean De Luz (St), XII. 534.
Jean-le-blanc, bird, XVI. 563.
Jears, XII. 534.
Jebel Assoud, IX. 530.
Jebna, in Palestine, XII. 534.
Jebus^ei, XII. 534.
Jedburgh, Scotch town, XII. 534.
Jedo, Japanese city, XII. 535.
Jefferson (Thomas), XII. 535.
 , town in Missouri, XV. 304.
Jeffersonville, XII. 266—caves near, ib.
Jeffrey (Francis), Lord Jeffrey, his eulo-
gium on James Watt, XXI. 819.
Jeffreys (Sir G.), XII. 538 ; V. 356.
Jefremows Russian city, XII. 535.
Jeghederpoor, Hindu towm, XII. 539.
Jegher, u’ood-engraver, XXI. 917.
Jehanabad, Hindu towns, XII. 539.
Jehovah, XII. 539.
Jehungseal, Afghan town, XII. 539.
Jejunum, XII. 539 ; II. 816.
Jejurry, Hindu town, XII. 539.
Jelasir, Hindu town, XII. 539.
Jelatma, Russian city, XII. 539.
Jelez, Russian towm, XII. 539.
Jelezenka, river, XII. 539.
Jelezenskaia-crepost, XII. 539.
Jelisawetgrad, XII. 539.
Jellalabad, XII. 539.
Jellalaean era, VI. 662.
Jelly, XII. 539. See Gelatine.
Jelpesh, town in Bengal, XII. 539.
Jemaleddin, Arabian author, VI. 145.
JEM—JES
Jemaulabad, XII. 539.
Jemaulnaig, XII. 539.
Jemlah, in Hindustan, XII. 539.
Jemmappes, XII. 539—battle of, V. 465-
X. 71 ; XVI. 123.
Jena, German city, XII. 540—battle of
X. 143; XVIII. 684.
Jeneahgar, Hindu town, XII. 540.
Jenidsche-Bardar, XII. 540.
Jenite, specific gravity of, XII. 31.
Jenjapoor, Hindu town, XII. 540.
Jenkins (Sir Leoline), XII. 540.
Jenkinson (Charles), Earl of Liverpool,
XIII. 396—a member of the ministry
in 1806, V. 522—appointed premier,
533—struck with apoplexy, .569—on
the coinage, VII. 35—on parliamen¬
tary reform, X. 630.
Jenner (Dr), his discovery of vaccina¬
tion, XXI. 534.
Jennin, XVI. 742.
Jenny, spinning, VII. 399; XX. 537;
XXI. 932—mule, VII. 402 ; XX. 541.
Jenour’s wire-cartridges, XX. 305.
Jenson (Nicholas), printer, XVIII. 548.
Jentaculum, XII. 540.
Jenyns (Soame) XII. 540.
Jeofaile, in law, XII. 541.
Jephthah, judge of Israel, XII. 541.
Jerboa, XIV. 136; XII. 541.
Jeremiah, prophet, XII. 541—his style,
XVIII. 147.
Jer-faleon, XVI. 565.
Jericho, XII. 541; XVI. 741.
Jerome (St), XII. 541—alphabet of,II.
548—on primitive presbyteries, XVIII.
525—his spiritual pride, XXL 648—
his invectives against Vigilantius, ib.
—  of Prague, XII. 542 ; XL 762 ;
XXI. 952.
Jeronymites, XII. 542.
Jersey, XII. 542—attacked by the Bri¬
tish in 1779, V. 409.
 (New), XII. 542. See New Jersey.
Jerusalem, XII. 544—taken by Antio-
chus, XII. 570 ; XVI. 751; by Pom-
pey, XII. 571; XVI. 751—destroyed
by the Romans, XII. 575 ; XVI. 752;
XIX. 405—rebuilt by Hadrian, XII.
576; XIX. 408—Julian’s attempt to
rebuild the temple ; II. 580; XII. 577,
630 ; XIX. 418; XVI. 754—taken by
the Persians, 755 ; by Omar, ib ; by
the Crusaders, ib.; by Saladin, 757;
VIII. 482—retaken by the Crusaders,
XVI. 758—sacked by the Kbarismians,
ib.—taken by the Marplouks, ib.—
Christian sects in, 748—temple at,
XXI. 178. Bee Crusades.
 Artichoke, XI. 670.
Jervis (John), Earl of St Vincent, XXI.
651—his naval victory, V. 480.
Jesi, Italian city, XII. 552.
Jesrotch, town in Lahore, XII. 565.
Jesse on the eel, XII. 223.
Jesselmere, in Hindustan, XII. 565.
Jesses, in falconry, XII. 552.
Jesso, island, XII. 510.
Jessop’s iron bridges, V. 279.
Jessore, in Bengal, XII. 565.
Jesting, XII. 552.
Jesuits, XII. 552—in Brazil, V. 190,
ct seq.; XVIII. 458 ; Japan, XII. 519;
Ladrone Islands, XVIII. 361 • Para¬
guay, 143 ; XVII. 57 ; Peru,- 303—
their method of reducing the indige¬
nous Americans to a settled mode of
life, II. 626, 630—their opposition to
Pascal, IV. 387^—their suppression in
France, X. 36—founder of the, XII.
244—their missions, XIX. Ill, 112
—slavery authorized by their law, XX.
382. See Jansenites, Predestination,
Garasse.
Jesuit’s bark. See Cinchona.
Jesus, XII. 557—date of his birth, VI.
655, 657—casting out of daemons by,
VII. 585—darkness during his cruci¬
fixion, 629—pictures of, XVI. 706—
person of, XXI. 224—life and teach¬
ing, 225—death, 226—nature of the
benefit derived from his propitiatory
work, 226—extent of that benefit, 228
INDEX
85
JES—JOA
— resurrection and ascension, 229.
See Christianity, Eucharist, Miracle,
Trinity.
Jescs, son of Sirach, XII. 5fi5.
Jet, XII. 5B5—specific gravity of, 31.
Jet p’ Eau, XII. 065, 58, 66; XXI.799.
Jettee, in building, XII. 565.
Jetty, XIX. 285.
Jetti-head, XII. 565.
Jetzer, tragic story of, VIII. 108.
Jever, in Germany, XII. 565.
Jewel, XII. 566. See Gems.
  (John), XII. 566.
Jewel-blocks, XII. 566.
Jews, XII. 567—history of the, XI. 470,
et seq., 487 ; XVI. 749—in Abyssinia,
II. 62 ; ancient and modern Alexan¬
dria, 410, 412; Arabia, III. 341-2;
Austria, IV. 235 ; Barbary, 363-4;
Bavaria, 461 ; the Crimea, VII. 472;
Egypt, VIII. 521; England, 720;
Germany, X. 486 ; Greece, 738; In¬
dia, XI. 395; Morocco, II. 235; XV.
509 ; modern Palestine, XII. 551 ;
XVI. 748 ; Poland, XVIII. 212; Rus¬
sia, XIX. 558; Spain, XX. 498—their
altars, II. 566 ; III. 407—analogy of
Jewish and Mexican cosmogonies, II.
634—assisted Demetrius, III. 252—
their demonology, 297—architecture,
413—baptism, IV. 352—beard, 473 —
use of bells, 545—Bible, 612—burials,
V. 712 — Babylonish captivity, VI.
130—Caraites, 132 ; VII. 472—the
Chinese not descended from the, VI.
549—Were they long ignorant of a
future state? 625-6—hated the early
Christians, 629—their year and eras,
657—months, 658—circumcision, 705
—coins, VII. 31—diversity of com¬
plexion in different parts of the world,
192—house built by Henry III. for
converts, 294—weights and measures,
540; XXI. 846—daemoniacs, VII.584
-dancing, 613-day, 6 4 3—tributary to
the Egyptians, VIII. 470—severities
of Ptolemy Philopater towards them,
471-their fasts, IX. 493—mode of
slaughtering animals, 722—funeral
rites, X. 258—geometry, 428—grace
before meat, 636—law as to impuri¬
ty, XII. 256 —burning of incense,
257—jubilee, 624—libraries, XIII.
287—colour, XIV. 198—Mosaic law,
XV. 564—mourning, 584—oracles,
XVI. 516—ancient art,694—passover,
XVII. Ill—patriarchs, 140—poetry,
XVIII. 146—effects of insecurity of
their property since their dispersion,
275—spread of their religion, XIX.
109—conquered by the Romans, 405
—their insurrection in Adrian’s reign,
408 —sabbath, 597—sanhedrim, 611
—Dr Spencer’s hypothesis that their
ritual was mainly borrowed from the
Egyptians, XX. 533-ancient Jews
probably acquainted with sugar, 790
-their surgery,820,827—synagogues?
XXI. 54—tabernacle, 66—talent, 71
Talmud, ib. See Hebrew.
•Azides, xil. 584.
Jeziea-ul-okak, XII. 584.
Jezbael, in Samaria, XII. 584.
Jhalawan, in Persia, XII. 584.
Jhansi, XII. 584 ; V. 705.
Joansu-Jeung, in Thibet, XII. 584.
•Tharejah Rajpoots, VII. 564.
Jhingwaba, in Gujerat, XII. 584.
Jhurjhoory, in Nepaul, XII. 584.
Jhthjm, Hindu river, XII. 584.
Jib and Jib-Boom, XII. 585.
Jidda, Arabian sea-port, XII. 585 
commerce of, III. 337.
JiS. X. 518.
Jigat Point, XII. 586.
Jihon. See Oxus.
Jillifrey, African town, XII. 586.
Jin. See Genii.
Jionpoor, in Hindustan, XII. 586.
Joab, Jewish general, XII. 580.
Joachimites, heretics, XII. 587.
Joag, African town, XII. 587.
Joal, African sea-port, XII. 587.
JOA—JOI
Joan of Arc, XII. 587 ; III. 377: X. 23.
 of Kent, VII. 44 6.
 ( Pope), XII. 587.
Joana, town in Java, XII. 587.
Joanes, Dos, island, XII. 587.
Joao Del Rey. in Brazil, XII. 587.
Job, Book of, XII. 588—his description
of the war-horse, XI. 592.
Jobber, XII. 588.
Jobbing, XII. 588—stockjobbing, ib.
Jocelyn, family of, XI. 255, note.
Joehonan. Jewish patriarch, XVII. 141.
Jockey, XII. 588.
Jockeyship, XI. 621.
Joel, XII. 588—style of, XVIII. 47.
Joffrid, abbot of Croyland, XXI. 500.
Jog his, religious sect, XII. 588.
Jogdes, Hindu eras, XII. 588.
Johanna. See Hinzouan.
Johann-Geokcenstadt, XII. 589.
Johannisberg, German town, XII. 589.
John (St), the Baptist, XII. 589—death
of, III. 254.
 (St), the Evangelist, XII. 589—
Gospel of, ib.—Revelation or Apoca¬
lypse of, III. 285.
 of Salisbury, XII. 589.
  XII. (Pope), XII. 589.
 of Ardern, XX. 828.
 of Fordun, IX. 741.
 of Gaddesden, XX. 827.
 of Gaunt, XII. 590.
 Sobieski, of Poland, XII. 590.
 (St), river in New Brunswick,
XVI. 147, 148.
 , king of England, VIII. 721—
his proceedings in Ireland, XII. 356
—his fleet, XX. 215.
 , emperor of the East, VII. 285.
 , king of France, X. 18.
 I., II., III., IV., V., and VI.,
kings of Portugal, XVIII. 464, 465,
470, 471, 473.
 , king of Sweden, XXI. 16.
John’s (St), Day, XII. 590.
 Island, XII. 590.
 -(ST),in Newfoundland, XII. 590;
XVI. 160.
 (St),in New Brunswick,XVI. 148.
 (St), or Prince Edward Island,
XII. 590.
   (St), W. India island, XII. 594.
Jobnius, fish, XII. 176.
Johnson (Ben). See Jonson.
 (Esther), XXI. 35, 38.
 (Samuel), XII. 594—his opinion
of Rochefoucauld’s maxims,!. 54—his
characters of Addison, II. 146 ; Bur-
man, V. 719; Cowley, VII. 436 ;
Denham, 718; Dryden, VIII. 224 ;
Thomson, XXI. 251 ; Warburton,
771—Boswell’s Life of, V. 28—Dr
Brocklesby’s kindness to, 586—effects
of his pension, VII. 316—on Lord
Hailes’s Annals of Scotland, 602—on
the works of Congreve, VII. 217;
Roscommon, XIX. 480 ; N. Rowe,
509—his antipathy to Milton, XV.
106, n. 2, 107—on novel-writing, XVI.
290—on Ossian, 662—on pilgrimage,
XVII. 743—his Tales, XIX. 342—on
second sight, XX. 70, 71.
Johnston (Arthur), XII. 599.
 (John), on animals, XIV. 77—
on birds, XVI. 545.
   (Cha.), novels of, XIX. 341.
Johnston’s Isle, XII. 604.
Johnstone, in Renfrewshire,XII. 604—
canal to Glasgow, IV. 260 ; XVI. 13.
 (Robert), historian, XII. 603.
Johore, Malay town, XII. 604.
Joigny, in France, XII. 604.
Joiners distinguished from carpenters,
V. 683—work of, in building, 687—
health of, XIV. 510.
Joinery, XII. 605—Roman knowledge
of, III. 419. See Roof.
Jo .nt, XII. 618—universal, XIV. 447.
Joints of bones, II. 746, 756 ; XVII.
604, 615, et seq. ; XXI. 615—of the
spine, 763 ; shoulder, elbow, wrist,
and fingers, 789 ; hip, 791; knee, 792;
ankle, ib.—surgical treatment of dis-
JOI—JOS
eases of the, XX. 834—diseases of, in
cattle, XXI. 617.
Joints, in carpentry, VI. 164.
Joint-Stock Companies, VII. 183.
Jointure, in Scotch law, XII. 618.
Joinville, French city, XII. 618.
Joinville’s Memoirs quoted, VI. 611.
Joists, XII. 618—construction of, V.
684—the strongest not that which has
the greatest quantity of timber, XX.
766—mode of forming one with the
same relative strength in all its parts,
769.
Jokagur, Hindu town, XII. 618.
Jokes, or Jests, XII. 552.
Joktan, III. 340.
Joliba, African river, II. 238.
Jolloxochitl, plant, XII. 618.
Joly on mortality at Geneva, XV. 535.
Jolyffe, his discovery of the distinction
between the lacteals and lymphatics,
II. 698, 728.
Jomini (Baron), on the military charac¬
ter of the French, III. 601; Spaniards,
602 ; Russians, 608, n. 3; Piedmon¬
tese, 612 ; and British, 621—on war,
XXI. 733, et seq.
Jonah, prophet, XII. 618.
Jonathan, son of Saul, XII. 618.
 , or Jonas Maccabseus, XII. 619.
 , son of Uziel, merits of his Tar-
gum, XXI. 80.
Jondisabour, in Chorassan, medical
school at, XX. 825-6.
Jones (Inigo), XII. 619—his architec¬
tural works, III. 428.
 (Edward Thomas), on book-keep¬
ing, IV. 776, 788.
 (Rev. H. L.), on the statistics of
the universities of Oxford, Cambridge,
and Dublin, XXI. 506.
  (John Gale), V. 528.
  (Sir John), on sieges, IX. 777.
 (Paul), his predatory expeditions,
V. 416, n.
 (Mr), on a material ether,XV. 57 5.
  — (Richard R.), linguist, XIX. 476.
 (Thos.), his optigraph, VI. 38.
  (Sir William), XII. 620—his
reply to, and character of, Anquetil du
Perron, III. 237—on the Asiatic races,
691—his botanical labours, V. 78—on
the Hindu origin of chess, VI. 518;
and of the Chinese, 549—his character
of Lord Ashburton, VIII. 283—on the
native equality of human minds, 439,
n.—on Brahminism, XVIII. 341—on
the Hindu god Rama, XIX. 197.
Jones’s hydrometer, XII. 23.
Jonk, or Junk, XII. 621.
Jonkoping, Swedish province, XII. 621.
Jonsac, in France, XII. 621.
Jonson (Ben), XII. 594 — on Lord
Bacon’s forensic eloquence, I. 239—
his connection with Bacon, ib.—his
merits as a dramatist, VIII. 168—his
visit to Drummond, 211—poetry of,
XVIII. 170.
Jooria, Hindu sea-port, XII. 621.
Joppa, or Jaffa. See Jaffa.
 , insect, IX. 222.
Jor, in Hebrew, XII. 621.
Jordaens, painter, XVI. 722.
Jordan, river, XII. 621; XVI. 744—
plain of, 745.
Jordano (Lucca), painter, XII. 621.
Jorjan, Persian town, XII. 622.
Jornandes, X. 619.
Jortin (Dr), XX. 813—on the style of
Erasmus, IX. 358.
Jorulla, an American volcano, I. 614 ;
XIV. 797 ; XVII. 514.
Joseph, son of Jacob, XII. 622.
 I. of Portugal, XVIII. 471.
  II. of Austria, IV. 221—his
plan for exchanging the Austrian Ne¬
therlands for Bavaria, V. 437—his
government of Belgium, XVI. 122.
 the Blind, his Targum, XXI. 80.
Josephine, empress of France, character
of, XV. 714, n.
Josephus, Jewish historian, XII. 622—
his reference to Christ, 560.
JOS—JUL
Joshua, XII. 622, 567.
Josiah. king of Judah, XII. 622.
Josselin, French town, XII. 622.
Jotapata, in Galilee, XII. 622.
Jouhert (General), X. 113.
Joudpoor, in Hindustan, XII. 622.
Jouge’s spinning-machine, X. 555.
Jourdan (General), X. 88, et seq.—his
campaign of 1796, V. 484.
Journal, XII. 622—in book-keeping,
ib.; IV.779, 780, 782, 783—collective
entries in, 789.
 of a ship, XII. 622 ; XV. 790.
Journey, XII. 623.
Journeyman, XII. 623.
Jovellanos, IV. 112.
Jovian, Roman emperor, XII. 623; VII.
278; XIX. 418.
Jovius (Paul), historian, XII. 623.
Joy, XII. 623—death from, VIII. 212,
n. 1. See Happiness.
Juan Fernandez, XII. 623.
 de Ulloa, XII. 623.
 Blanco, XII. 623.
 (Don Jorge), his secret Report
to the Spanish Government, IV. 754
—his theory of percussion, XIV. 390.
Juba, XII. 623; XVI. 309.
Jubilee, XII. 624.
Judah, XII. 624.
 Hakkadosh, rabbi, XII. 624.
Judaism, XII. 625. See Jews.
Judas Maccabeus, XII. 625.
Jude (St), XII. 625-epistle of, ib.
Judea, XII. 625; XVI. 739.
Judenburg, in Austria, XII. 625.
Judex (Matthew), XII. 625.
Judge, XII. 625, 647.
Judges (Jewish), XII. 625—Book of, ib.
 (Select), in Rome, XII. 625.
Judgment, in logic, XII. 625; XIII.
439—necessary in the character of a
poet, XVIII. 143.
  , in law, XII. 625—views of the
Mahommedans respecting the final
judgment of mankind, XIV. 35.
Judicature, XII. 626.
Judicia Centumviralia, XII. 626.
Judicial combat, VI. 601; VII. 135;
XVI. 520.
Judicium Calumniae, XII. 626—Dei—
Parium—Falsi—Prsevaricationig, ib.
Judith, XI. 534.
Jugerum, Roman measure, XII. 626.
Juggernaut, temple of, XII. 626 ; VII.
568; XI. 401.
Jugglers, XII. 627—Hindu, IV. 469.
Juglande®, in botany, V. 131.
Juglans, the walnut, XII. 627.
Jugular veins and glands, XII. 627.
Jugulares, fishes, XII. 627—their fins
and pelvis. III. 17, 18.
Jugum, Roman punishment, XII. 627.
Jugurtha, king of Numidia, XII. 627 ;
XI, 477 ; XVI. 304—his war with the
Romans, XIX. 391.
Juice, XII. 628—of plants, XXI. 574,
586. See Sap.
Juist, island, XII. 629.
Jujubes, fruit, XII. 629.
Jul, Gothic term, XII. 629.
Julamerick, in Asia, XII. 629.
Julep, in pharmacy, XII. 629.
Julia, XIX. 401.
Julian, emperor, XII. 629 ; VII. 274,
etseq.; XIX. 417—apparition seen by,
III. 296-7—Lis objection to the deca¬
logue, VII. 661—his attempt to re¬
build the Temple at Jerusalem, II
580 ; XII. 577 ; XVI. 754.
 Alps, II. 559 ; XII. 252.
 Period, XII. 630 ; VI. 9, 658.
 — Era, VI. 660.
   (St), French town, XII. 630.
 (Port St), XVII. 117.
Julianus (Didius), XIX. 409.
Juliers, Prussian city, XII. 630.
Julio Romano, XII. 630.
Julius Cffisar, his treatment of Cicero,
VI. 692, 693. See Caesar.
—— H. (Pope), XII. 630 ; XVI. 711,
 Vic us, XII. 630.
 Pollux, XVIII. 308.
86
INDEX
JUL—JUS
Jdly, XII. 630—gardening operations
in, XI. 690.
Jombasier River, XII. 630.
Jumna, river, XII. 630 ; XI. 375.
Junagur, Hindu town, XII. 630.
Juncaginese, in botany, V. 136.
Junceae, in botany, Y. 135.
Junci Lapidei, XII. 630.
Juncture, XII. 630, 631.
Juncus, the rush, XII. 631.
June, XII. 631—gardening operations
in, XI. 689.
Jungerpooe, Hindu town, XII. 631.
Jungeypoor, in Bengal, XII. 631.
Junglebarry, in Bengal, XII. 631.
Juniper-tree, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Junius (Adrian), XII. 631—on the in¬
vention of printing, XVIII. 541.
 (Francis), sen., XII. 631.
 (Francis), jun., XII. 631.
 Letters of, VI. 309 ; X. 220,
775, n.; XVII. 765.
Junk, XII. 621, 631.
Junkseylon, island, XII. 631.
Junnere, Hindu town, XII. 632.
Juno, pagan goddess, XII. 632.
 —, planet, IV. 29 5 III. 748.
Junoa, Hindu town, XII. 632.
Junonalia, Roman festival, XII. 632.
Junot (General), V. 524.
Junto, XII. 632.
Jupiter, pagan god, XII. 632—Greek
notions of, IV. 170—Jupiter Pluvius,
IH. 266, 271, n.
■ .planet, XII. 633; IV. 31—in¬
equalities of, III. 752—variations in
its orbit, IV. 59—atmosphere of,
XVIII. 105.
 (satellites of), III. 740, 753; IV.
32, 35, 37—discovery of two by Ga¬
lileo, I. 491—Laplace’s theory of their
motions, 670—their disturbances by
mutual action, IV. 60.
Jura, island, XII. 633—whirlpool of
Coryvreckan, near, VII. 382.
  —, in France, XII. 633; XXI. 46.
Jurats, XII. 634.
Jukieu (Peter), XII. 634—his quarrel
with Bayle, IV. 467.
Jurin (James), XII. 634—on capillary
action, VI. 115.
Jurisconsultus, XII. 634.
Jurisprudence, XII. 634—Bacon on,
I. 36—Grotius on, 86—origin of law of
nature and law of nations, 89—opi¬
nions of different philosophers, 90—
good effects of alliance between law
of nature and law of nations, ib.—
third and distinct idea of, 91—abstract
code of laws unphilosophical, 93—
reasons why the Roman law ought to
be taken as our groundwork, ib.—
Bentham’s writings on, 378—medical,
XIV. 490, 528. See Law, Medical
Jurisprudence.
Jury, XII. 649—in England, IX. 32—
in France, X. 218—Smellie on, XX.
403.
Jury Court, in Edinburgh, VIII. 418.
Jury Trial, XII. 649. See Probability,
XVIII. 616.
Jus deliberandi, XII. 652—devolution
—mariti—relictae—preventionis—ci¬
vile— civitatis — honorarium —ima-
ginis, ib.—Papirianum, 653—trium
liberorum, ib.
Jussieu (A. L. de), XII. 653—his bo¬
tanical labours, V. 86, 91—his classi¬
fication of plants, 92.
  (Bernard de), XII. 653—his
botanical labours, V. 86, 90—on ani¬
mal magnetism, XIV. 19.
Just, or Joust, XII. 654.
  (St), in Cornwall, XII. 654.
Justice, XII. 654—circumstances which
distinguish it from other virtues, I.
87—the rules of, not enumerated by
the ancient philosophers, ib.—origin
of the sense of, 367—Aristotle on,
III. 521 — why less esteemed than
courage, VIII. 28. See Ethical Phi¬
losophy, Virtue.
■ ofthe Peace, XII. 654.
JUS—KAM
Justice-Clerk of Scotland, XII. 654.
Justiciar, or Justice-General of Scot¬
land, XII. 654; XIX. 753.
Justiciary Court, in Scotland, XIX.
758 ; VIII. 418.
Justification, XII. 655 ; XXL 230.
Justin Martyr, XII. 656.
 , Roman emperor, VII. 281.
Justina, II. 601, 602.
Justinian, Roman emperor, XII. 656;
VII. 281 —aqueduct of. III. 319—
code of, VI. 716 ; VII. 16 ; XIII. 182.
Justiniani (Augustin), XII. 656.
   (St Lawrence), XII. 656.
Justinus, Latin historian, XII. 656.
Justness, XII. 657.
Juterbock, Prussian city, XII. 657.
Jutland, XII. 657; VII. 725.
Juvenalis (Decimus), satirist, XII.
657—poetry of, XVIII. 154—French
translation by Dussaulx, VIII. 292.
Juvencus (Caius Vecticus Aquilinus),
poet, XII. 657.
Juventas, goddess, XII. 657.
Juxon (Dr William), XII. 657 V. 333.
K
K, letter of the alphabet, XII. 658.
Kaaba of Mecca, V. 762 ; XIV. 535.
Kaarta, in Africa, XII. 658.
Kabania, Russian fortress, XII. 658.
Kab anoua, Russian fortress, XU- 658.
Kababda, in Asia, XII. 658.
Kaboo, XX. 94.
Kabour, river in Asia, XII. 658.
Kabrona'Ng island, XII. 658.
Kacho, V. 768.
Kachtan, in Arabia, XII. 658.
Kadesh, or Kadesh-barnea, XII. 658.
Kadirgunge, Hindu town, XII. 658.
Kadmonau, an ancient people of Pales¬
tine, XII. 658.
Kadom, Russian city, XII. 658.
Kaffa, XII. 659. See Caffa.
Kaffilar Kook, XII. 659.
Kaffraria, XII. 659.
Kafirs. See Caffres.
Kahlore, Hindu town, XII. 661.
Kaiballs, Russian people, XII. 661.
Kainsi, species of antelope, XII. 661.
Kainske, Russian town, XII. 661.
Kair, Hindu town, XII. 661.
Kairwan, African city, XII. 661.
Kaisar, in Morocco, XV. 508.
Kaiserslautern, XII. 661.
Kajaaga, in Africa, XII. 661.
Kaketi, in Asia, XII. 662.
Kakkabban, island, XII. 662.
Kakorh, Hindu town, XII. 662.
Kakreze, in Hindustan, XII. 662.
Kalamata, Greek town, XII. 662.
Kalasin, Russian city, XII. 662.
Kalatigas, river in Java, XII. 662.
Kalatoa Isle, XII. 662.
Kalbe, Prussian city, XII. 662.
Kalder Dag, in Asia Minor, XH. 662.
Kale, culture of, XI. 667.
Kaleidoscope, XII. 662.
Kalendar, XII. 669—months, ib.—as¬
tronomical, ib.—brothers, ib. See
Calendar.
Kalendarium Festum, XII. 669.
.Kalends, or Calends, XII. 669 ; VI. 4—
in church-history, XII. 670—of Ja¬
nuary, ib.
Kalhat, in Arabia, XII. 670.
Kalisch, Polish city, XII. 670.
Kali-yug, era of, VI. 664.
Kalkas, Mongol race, XII. 670.
Kalkoon Islands, XII. 670.
Kalmucks, Tartar tribe, XII. 670;
XXL 86—skull of, II. 784.
Kalubblub, island, XII. 671.
Kaluga, in Russia, XII. 671.
Kaluschi, II. 619.
Kalw, in Bavaria, XII. 671.
Kamakura, island, XII. 671.
Kamenez, Russian city, XII. 671.
Karnes (Lord). See Home (Henry).
KAM—KAT
Kamichi, bird, XVI. 627.
Kaminiec, Russian town, XII. 671.
Kamtschatka, XII. 671.
Kan, eastern title, XII. 674; VI. 312.
Kanany Islands, XII. 674.
Kan-Choo-Foo, Chinese city, XII. 674.
Kandahar. See Candahar.
Kandern, in Germany, XII. 674.
Kangaroo, XIV. 128 ; IV. 209 ; XXL
716—its organs of voice, III. 28—
stomach, 35—structure, XVII. 705.
 Islands, XII. 674.
Kangelang Isle, XII. 674.
Kangis, in Lapland, XIII. 112.
Kangkao, river, VII. 12.
Kangrah, in Hindustan, XII. 674.
Kanijee, Hindu town, XII. 674.
Kankho, Chinese river, XII. 674.
Kannstadt, mineral springs of, XXI. 946.
Kano, II. 237; XI. 709.
Kanoge, Hindu town, XII. 674.
Kant (Immanuel), XII. 675—his Cri¬
tique of Pure Reason, and idea an¬
nexed to the title, I. 189, et seq.—
identity of his doctrine with that of
Cudworth, 43, 191,194-5—on Hume’s
theory of causation, 193—his claims
to originality ill-founded, 194—on
general ideas not derived from ex¬
perience, 279—his argument for free
will, 196—his principle called practi¬
cal reason, 197, 413—the impression
which his great work made in Ger¬
many accounted for by Reinhold, 198
—decline of his system, 199—schools
which have emanated from it, 200—
its opponents, 201—evil which has
arisen from his writings, 283—his
ethical system framed to support ill-
founded principles, 412—the perform¬
ance of duty the chief end of man in
his system, ib.—philosophy of, IX. 534.
Kantcheou, Chinese town, XII. 679.
Kao, island, XII. 679.
Kaolin, XII. 679 ; XVIII. 429, et seq.
Kaoming-Sze, XII. 679.
Kaotcheoufou, XII. 679.
Kapini, island, XII. 679.
Kapuvar, Austrian town, XII. 679.
Kara, sea of, XIX. 566.
Karah, Hindu town, XII. 679.
Karaites, VI. 132 ; VII. 472.
Karak, island, XII. 679.
Karakalpacs of Tartary, XII. 679.
Karakita, island, XII. 679.
Karamazin, XIX. 584.
Karang Sambong, XII. 679.
Karasjee, Hindu town, XII. 679.
Karasubasar, XII. 679.
Karatschew, Russian city, XII, 679.
Kardanah, river, XII. 679.
Kargapol, Russian city, XII. 679.
Kargauw, Hindu town, XII. 679.
Karical, Hindu town, XII. 679.
Karle, in law, XII. 680.
Karlsbad, watering-place in Bohemia,
XII. 680 ; VI. 144.
Karlstadt, XII. 680 ; VI. 145.
Karnac, in Egypt, XII. 680—temple at,
III. 410 ; VIII. 541.
Karnata, in Hindustan, XII. 680.
Karoon, Persian river, XII. 680.
Karouly, Hindu town, XII. 680.
Karpoot, in Asia, XII. 680.
Karrakorum, III. 697.
Kars, Turkish city, XII. 680.
Kartan Islands, XII. 681.
Kartuel, in Georgia, XII. 681.
Karuku, island, XII, 681.
Kasan, in Russia, XII. 681; XIX. 535.
Kaschin, Russian city, XII. 681.
Kashan, VI. 212.
Kashef (Ibrahim), his voyage up the
Nile, XVI. 225.
Kashgar, III. 699 ; XXI. 86.
Kashna, XI. 710.
Kasimow, Russian city, XII. 681.
Kaskaskia, in Illinois, XII. 248.
Kasmark, in Hungary, XII. 682,
Kasson. See Kaarta.
Katagum, XI. 709.
Katchins, Asiatic tribe, XII. 682.
Kater (Captain), his pendulum, I. 660 :
KAT—KEL
XXI. 842—his hygrometer, XII. Hj
—on artificial magnets, XIII, 768 
on the needle, 764—his azimuth-com¬
pass, 765—his method of measuring
the intensity of gravity by the pendu¬
lum, XVII. 194—his remeasurement
of General Roy’s triangles, XXI. 354,
361.
Katerly, in Asia Minor, XII. 682.
Katrine (Loch), XIX. 748-—its tempera¬
ture at different depths, VI. 749.
Kattegatte, XII. 682 ; IV. 324, et seq.
Katwyk, Dutch town, XII. 682.
Kaufbeuern, in Bavaria, XII. 682.
Kaukehmen, in Prussia, XII. 682.
Kaurzim, in Austria, XII. 682.
Kawschani, Russian town, XII. 682.
Kaushkhaur, river, II. 212.
Kawuck, Afghan town, XII. 682.
Kaye (Dr), on the miracles of the early
Christians, VI. 627.
Kaye’s Island, XII. 682.
Kayns, Asiatic tribe, XII. 682.
Kayor, African kingdom, XII. 682.
Kazameen, town in Asia, XII. 683.
Kazan, XII. 681; XIX. 535.
Kazeroon, Persian town, XII. 683.
Keadby and Stainforth Canal, XVI. 19.
Kean (Edmund), tragedian, XII. 683.
Keate (George), XII. 683.
Keats, poetry of, XVIII. 144.
Kebban Dag, mountains, XII. 684.
Kebla, XII. 684.
Kebt, ruins at, VIII. 542.
Kecho, V. 768.
Kecskemet, Austrian town, XII. 684.
Kedar, XII. 684.
Kedarnath, XII. 684.
Kedes, city of Naphtali, XH. 684.
Kedge, anchor, XII. 684.
Kedgeree, town in Bengal, XII. 684.
Kedlestone Park, VII.735.
 , sulphureous spring at, VII. 736.
Kedron, XII. 684.
Keel, XII. 684 — Lang’s safety-keel,
XX. 285.
Keel-Hauling,a punishment,XII. 684.
Keel-bird, XVI. 599.
Keelan Isle, XII. 684.
Keelson, XII. 684 ; XX. 284.
Keema-Kedan, islands, XII. 684.
Keen, river, XII. 684.
Keene, in New Hampshire, XVI. 165.
Keeper of the Great Seal, XII. 684—
of the Privy Seal, ib.
Keeping, in painting, XII. 684 ; XVII.
286.
Keferstein on the number of species of
animals, XVII. 549.
Keffekil, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Keffing, island, XII. 684.
Kefil, village, XII. 685.
Keft, ruins at, VIII. 542.
Kegworth, in Leicester, XII. 685.
Kehl, town in Baden, XII. 685.
Keighley, in Yorkshire, XII. 685.
Keill (John), mathematician, XII. 685
—on fluxions, IX. 633; XIV. 321;
XVIII. 649—his challenge to John
Bernouilli, IX. 636.
 (James), physician, XII. 685.
Keinton, battle of, V. 324.
Keir’s Lamp, XIII. 43.
Keith (J. F. E.), field-marshal, XII.
685—game invented by, VI. 519.
 (Bishop), his History of Affairs
in Scotland, XXI. 911.
Keith’s register-barometer, XVII. 5S0
— his self-registering thermometer,
XXL 240.
Kej, Persian town, XII. 686.
Kelat, XII. 686; IV. 557.
Kelendri, Turkish port, XII. 686.
Kelikdoni, river, XII. 686.
Kellamungullum, XII. 686.
Kellerman (General), V. 495 ; X. 118.
Kelly, (Hugh), XII. 686.
 (William), his spinning machi¬
nery, VII. 402; X. 555.
Kellystown, VI. 144.
Kelp, XII. 687 ; V. 138—manufacture
of, II. 296 ; X. 566 ; in Clare, VI.
; 726; in Scotland, XIX. 769—prepa-
INDEX,
87
KEL—KER
ration of iodine from, VI. SCI—its
use in glass-making, X. 566.
Kelpoory, Hindu town, XII. 687.
Kelso, Scotch town, XII. 687.
Kelvedon, in Essex, XII. 687.
Kemaon, in Hindustan, XII. 688.
Kemble (John Philip), XII. 689.
Kempelen (M. de), his automaton chess¬
player, III. 124.
Kempen, Prussian town, XII. 690.
Kempenfelt (Admiral), V. 422.
Kempis (Thomas a), XII. 690.
Kempten, in Bavaria, XII. 690.
Ken (Thomas), bishop, XII. 690.
 , island, XII. 691.
 , loch, XIX. 748.
Kenany, island, XII. 691.
Kendal, XII. 691—woollen manufac¬
tures of, XXI. 864, 926.
Kenilworth, in Warwick, XII. 691.
Kenmare, river, VII. 330.
Kennedy (James), XXI. 509.
  (Walter), his “ Flyting” with
Dunbar, VIII. 274.
Kenneh, VIII. 542.
Kennel, XII. 691.
Kenneri, caverns in Salsette, near
Bombay, XII. 691.
Kennet (Basil), XII. 692.
 (White), XII. 691.
 and Avon canal, XVI. 14.
 river navigation, XVI. 15.
Kenneth Macalpine, XIX. 698.
Kennicott (Dr Benjamin), XII. 692—
XI. 564—on Hebrew bibles, IV. 613
—his edition of the Hebrew bible, 614.
Kennington, in Surrey, XII. 693.
Kenrick (William), Xll. 693.
Kensington, XII. 693—Palace, XIII.
541—Ca*al, XVI. 15.
Kent, XII, 693—disturbances there in
1830, V. 580—fisheries, IX. 603—
Royal Military Canal, XVI. 18—pa¬
per-making, XVII. 19.
 (Mr), his improvements in gar¬
dening, X. 322.
Kentigern (St), XII. 696.
Kentish Town, XII. 696.
Kenton, in Devonshire, XII. 696.
Kentucky, XII. 696—fossil bones in,
XV. 225—state-bonds, XXI. 479.
~ river navigation, XVI. 26.
Kenwyn, in Cornwall, XII. 699.
Kenzingen, in Baden, XII. 699.
Keounsay, a town in the Burman Em¬
pire, XII 700.
Kepler (John), XII. 700—his tract on
stereometry, I. 438—introduced idea
of quantities infinitely great and small,
ib-—on circles, ib.—on inertia and
motion, 490—was the first to analyse
the structure of the eye, 509—his te¬
lescope, II. 98 ; XVI. 356—his astro¬
nomical discoveries, I. 463, 488, et
seq.'i III. 739—his problem to deter¬
mine the sun’s place in its orbit, 772—
his Three Laws, I. 463; IV. 22; XVII.
438—on attraction, I. 558; IV. 17*
—on the cometary orbits, VII. 137—
on infinites, IX. 631—on geometry,
X. 430—on optics, XIII. 329; XVI.
357—on logarithms, XIII. 418—on
the tides, XXL 260.
Keppel (Admiral), V. 386, 405—his dis¬
pute with Sir Hugh Palliser, 407—
his trial and acquittal, 408—cause of
the unsuccessful result of.his engage¬
ment, XXI. 141.
 Bay, XII. 700.
Kerah, Persian river, XII. 701.
Kerate, in mineralogy, XV. 144.
Kerbela, XII. 701.
Kerckringius, anatomist, II. 700.
Kercolang, island, XII. 701.
Keresoun, Turkish port, XII. 701.
Kerguelen’s Land, XII. 701 ; IV. 217 .
Keri-cetib, XII. 701.
Kerinja, Hindu town, XII. 701.
Kerka, river, VII. 595.
Kerkook, Turkish town, XII. 701.
Kebmanshaw, in Persia, XII. 701.
Kermes, insect, XII. 701—mineral, ib.
—red dye-stuff, VIII. 308.
m
KER—KIE
Kern, or Kerne, XII. 701.
Kernels, or lymphatic glands, II. 730.
Kerona, genus of animalcules. III. 190.
Kerrey, in Montgomery, XII. 702.
Kerry, Irish county, XII. 702—effects
of the cottage-system in, VII. 390.
Kersey, woollen cloth, XII. 705.
Kersseboom on the rate of mortality in
Holland, XV. 514, 544.
Kertche, IV. 661.
Kertsh, VII. 473.
Kesch, or Kech, XII. 705.
Kesitah, XII. 705.
Kesmark, Austrian city, XII. 705.
Kestrel, or Kestril, bird, XII. 705 ;
XVI. 565.
Keswick, XII. 705—lake, VII. 537.
Keszthely, Austrian town, XII. 705.
Ketch, vessel, XII. 705.
KETCH-HissAR,in Asia Minor, XII. 705.
Ketchluk, in Asia Minor, XII. 705.
Ketee, Hindu town, XII. 705.
Kethule (Francis de), XVI. 108.
Ketoie, island, XII. 705.
Kettering, XII. 706.
Kettle, battery of mortars, XII. 706.
Kettle-Drums, XII. 706 ; VIII. 210 ;
XV. 617.
Kettle-Drummer, XII. 706.
Ketupa, bird, XVI. 566.
Kevels, in ship-building, XII. 706.
Kevern (St), in Cornwall, XII. 706.
Kew, in Surrey, XII. 706—gardens at,
II. 368—Alton’s Hortus Keuuensis,
VIII. 221.
Key, XII. 706—in music, ib.; XV. 610.
Key-stone, XII. 706.
Key’s Isles, XII. 706.
Keydee, Hindu town, XII, 706.
Keynsham, in Somerset, XII. 706.
Keysler (John George), XII. 706.
Khaled, III. 342.
Khalif, VI. 23.
Khamsin wind, XVII. 541.
Khan, title, VI. 312 ; XII. 674.
 , inn, VI. 79.
Khanakee, XII. 707.
Khandesh, in Hindustan, XII. 707.
Kharismians, their invasion of Palestine,
XVI. 758.
Kharkow, or Kharkof, Russian city,
XII. 707—university of, XIX. 557.
Kharshoot, Turkish river, XII. 707.
Khasgunge, Hindu town, XII. 707.
Khatanga, Siberian river, XII. 707.
Khauar, Persian town, XII. 707.
Kheish, in Buckhara, V. 696.
Khemlasa, Hindu town, XII. 707.
Kheroo, in Tibet, XII. 707.
Khillis, Syrian town, XII. 707.
Khoee, Persian town, XII. 707.
Khojahwooban, ruins of, V. 698.
Khooshgal, XII. 707.
Khorassan, in Persia, XII. 707.
Khozdar, XII. 708.
Khyrabad, XII. 708.
Khyrpoor, Hindu town, XII. 709.
Khyvah, XII. 709 ; XXL 83r-Russian
commerce with, 85.
Kiahing Fou, Chinese town, XII. 709.
Kiakhta, XII. 709—commerce of, VI.
581; XIX. 588.
Kiama, African town, XII. 709.
Kiangnan, in China, XII. 709.
Kiangsee, in China, XII. 709.
Kibban, in Kooi’distan, XII. 709.
Kidd (Dr), on the brain, XIV. 582.
Kidder (Richard), bishop, XII. 709.
Kidderminster, XII. 710.
 Carpets, VI. 173.
Kiddle, XII. 710.
Kidnapping, XII. 710.
Kidneys of man, II. 822—of brutes, III.
40 ; XVII. 702, et seg.—latent disease
of, 479, 482—difficulty of diagnosis
of affections of, 488—function of, 655
—worms in, XXI. 997.
Kidney-bean, evolution of, III.- 80—
culture of, XI. 669.
Kidwelley, XII. 710 ; V. 771.
Kief, XIX. 527, et seq.
Kiel, Danish city, XII. 710—canal of,
VII. 727 ; XVI. 4.
KIE—KIN
Kielce, Polish city, XII. 710.
Kiernan (Mr), on the hepatic circula¬
tion, XVII. 650.
Kieser (Monsieur), on vegetable ana¬
tomy, III. 45, et seq.
Kiew, in Russia, XII. 710.
Kilbagie distillery, VI. 721.
Kilda (St), island, XII. 711.
Kildare, Irish county, XII. 711.
Kildare Place Society, XII. 425.
Kilderkin, measure, XII. 714.
Kildrought, VI. 273.
Kilfenora, VI. 724.
Kilgerran, a town in Pembrokeshire,
XII. 714.
Kilia-nova, IV. 660.
Kilkary, Hindu town, XII. 714.
Kilkenny, XII. 714—coal, VI. 444—
statute of, XII. 358.
Killala, Irish town, XII. 717.
Killaloe, town in the county of Clare,
XII. 717; VI. 724.
Killarney, Irish town, XII. 717, 705
—lakes of, 702.
Kilucrankie, XII. 717; IV. 672 —
battle of, V. 362 ; XII. 718.
Killigrewt (Anne), XII. 719.
 (Thomas), XII. 719.
 (William), XII. 718.
Killough, Irish village, XII. 719.
Kilmallock, XII. 719 ; XIII. 350—
battle of, XII. 364.
Kilmarnock, in Ayrshire, XII. 719.
Kilmore, bishopric of, VI. 255.
Kiln, XII. 719; XVIII. 129—maltster’s,
V. 236—brickmaker’s, 261—steam-
kiln, XX. 607.
Kilrush, VI. 726, 727.
Kilsyth, XII. 719—battle of, V. 328.
Kilwarden (Lord), V 545.
Kilwinning, town in Ayrshire, XII.
720—freemasons of, XIV. 283.
Kimbolton, in Huntingdon, XII. 720.
Kimchi (David), rabbi, XII. 720.
Kimedy, Hindu town, XII. 720.
Kinatoor, Hindu town, XII. 720.
Kinburn, IV. 660.
Kincardine, Scotch town, XII. 723—
moss of, II. 313.
Kincardineshire, XII. 720—sheep, II.
330—fisheries, IX. 601.
Kindred, XII. 723 ; VII. 265.
Kineton, in Warwickshire, XII. 723.
King, XII. 723—allegiance to, 519—
doctrine of divine right of, V. 632—
prerogative of, XVIII. 518. See Mo¬
narchy. '
 at arms, &c. XII. 724.
 (Gregory), on .human mortality,
XV. 514.
 (Dr John), bishop, XII. 725.
  (Mr), on the antiquity of the
arch, V. 269.
 (Dr Wm.), an English writer of'
the 17th century, XII. 725.
 (Dr Wm.), archbishop of Dublin,
XII. 725—his work on the Origin of
Evil, I. 170.
 (Dr Wm.), principal of St Mary’s
Hail, Oxford, XII. 726; XXL 779.
 (Peter), XII. 726.
King’s Advocate, or Lord Advocate,
XII. 724; II. 168.
  Bench (Court of), IV. 561.
  County, Xil. 726.
King-of-the-herrings, fish, XII. 189.
King-bird, XVI. 569.
King-fish, XII. 189.
King-fisher, bird, XVI. 592.
Kingdom, in natural history, XV. 739.
Kinghorn, town in Fife, XII. 728—
ferry of, 729 ; IX. 767.
Kingsbridge, in Devon, XII. 729.
Kingsbury, in Somerset, XII. 729.
Kingsclere, in Hants, XII. 729.
KiNG’s-LANGLEY.in Hertford, XIL 729.
King’s-Norton, in Worcester, XII. 729.
Kingstanley, in Gloucester, XII. 729.
King’s-Teignton, in Devon, XII. 729.
Kingston, in Upper Canada, XII. 729;
VI. 65—in Jamaica, XII. 500—in Sur¬
rey, 729.
Kingston-upon-Hull. See Hull.
KIN—KLI
Kingstown, near Dublin, VIII. 234—
regatta, 235.
Kingswinton, in Stafford, XII. 729.
Kington, in Hereford, XII. 730.
Kinic acid, VI. 430.
Kinkajou, in zoology, XIV. 107.
Kinkina, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Kinnersley on electricity, VIII. 571—
his electrical air-thermometer, 662.
Kinnihurgh (Robert), VII. 657.
Kinross-shire, XII. 730.
Kinsale, Irish town, XII. 731, 377.
Kinzig, in Baden, XII. 731.
Kippis (Andrew), XII. 731—on Lard-
ner’s Credibility, XIII. 114.
Kirby on the number seven, III. 178—
on the orders of Arachnida, 350—on
entomology, IX. 66, et seq.—on intes¬
tinal worms, XXI. 994—on the Eehini-
dans, 1004.
 and Spence, their defence of en¬
tomology from the charge of cruelty,
III. 164—on the insensibility of in¬
sects to pain, ib. — on the webs of
spiders, 355.
! Kirby-Lonsdale, XII. 732.
Kirby-Moorside, XII. 732.
Kirby-Stephen, XII. 732.
Kibcher (Athanasius), XII. 732—on
Archimedes’s burning-glasses, V. 729
—on hieroglyphics, XI. 300—on the
Egyptian language, 312—on animal
magnetism, XIV. 3—on the speaking-
trumpet, XXL 390.
Kirchheim, XII. 732.
Kirilow, Russian city, XII. 733.
Kirk, XII. 734—Kirk-session, ib.
Kirkcaldy, town in Fife, XII. 733.
Kirkdale cave, fossil hones in, XV. 223.
Kirke (Colonel), V. 357.
Kirkcudbright, Scotch county, XII.
734—town, 736.
Kirkkillissa, Turkish city, XII. 738.
Kirkwall, in Orkney, XII. 739.
Kirman, in Persia, XII. 738.
Kirnberger on harmony, XI. 151.
Kirstensius (Peter), XII. 739.
Kirthipoor, Hindu town, XII. 740.
Kirtle, XIL 740.
Kirwal Hindu towm, XII. 740.
Kirwan (Richard), XII. 740—his che¬
mical viewy and experiments, VI. 262,
263, 351.
 (Walter Blake), Xil. 740.
Kischenaw, Russian town, Xll. 740.
Kishenagiir, XII. 740, 741.
Kishengunga, river, XII. 741.
Kishlak, Persian town, XII. 741.
Kishm. island, XII. 741
Kishon, river, XVI. 742.
Kishtewar, in Hindustan, XII. 741.
Kislovodskoi, Russian fort, XII. 741.
Kisser, island, XII. 741.
Kissing, XII. 741.
Kistnagherry, XII. 741.
Kistnah, river, XII. 741.
Kistnapatam, XII. 742.
Kit; in music, XII. 742.
Kit-Cat Club, XIL 742.
Kitchen, XII. 742,. See Cookery.
Kitchen-garden, XI. 631, 667 — calen¬
dar, 687.
Kite, bird, XVI. 563, 564.
Kites, electrical, VIII. 645, 569.
Kitsingen, in Bavaria, XII. 742.
Kitt, fish, XII. 220.
Kittoor, XII. 742.
Kiun-cheu-Fou, Chinese city, XII. 742.
Kiusiu, island, XII. 510.
Kiutaiah, in Asia Minor, XII. 742.
Kiu-Tcheou-Fou, in China, XII. 742.
Kizilbaches, XII. 742.
Kizilermak, river, XII. 742.
Kizilozien, river, XII. 742.
Kizlar, Russian town, XII. 742.
Klagenfurt, in Austria, XII. 742.
Klaproth (Martin Henry), XII. 742—
his analysis of the water of^tlie Dead
Sea, III. 704—his chemical labours,
VI. 351 — on the relations of lan¬
guages, XIV. 204.
Klattau, in Austria. XII. 743.
Klausenburg, XIL 743.
88
INDEX,
KLE—KNO
Kleber (General), V. 489, 495 5 X. 119
—his conduct in Egypt, VIII. 492—
assassinated, ib., n. 2.
Kxeinakts (Nicholas), VI. 737.
Kleist (Edward C.), XII. 743—his
Tales, XIX. 359.
Klin, in Russia, XII. 743.
Klincock (Dr), on the electrophorus,
VIII. 641.
Klingert’s diving-apparatus described,
VIII. 61, 62.
Klinometer, XII. 743.
Kxoppenbcrg, XII. 744.
Klopstock (Frederick T.), XII. 744;
XIX. 682—poetry of, XVIII. 167.
Klosternecburg, XII. 744.
Knapsack, XII. 745.
Knaresborough, town in Yorkshire,
XII. 745.
Knave, XII. 745.
Knebelite, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Knee, XVII. 616 —disease of, in the
domestic animals, XXI. 617.
Knees, in a ship, XII. 745 ; XX. 285.
Knee-joint, II. 792.
Knee-pan, II. 790.
Kneeling, X. 385.
Kneller (Sir Godfrey), XII. 745—his
portraits. III. 652.
Kniephausen, XII. 745.
Knife, XII. 745. See Cutlery.
Knife-grinders, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Knight, XII. 745—Knights of the Bath,
IV. 440—of Malta, XIV, 59—Tem¬
plars, XXI. 174 — Teutonic, 189;
XVIII. 670. See Knighthood.
 — (George), exploratory voyages
of, XVIII. 218.
 (Dr Gowin), his artificial mag¬
nets, XIII. 755, 760.
 (Mr), on the sap of plants, III.
65 ; XXI. 290—on the swarming of
bees, IV. 529—on the propagation of
fruit, XI. 634.
 (Payne), on the Greek alphabet,
II. 546—his theory of beauty, IV.
487, 497.
Knights in a ship, XII. 746.
Knight’s Island, XII. 746.
Knight-service, XII. 745.
Knight-errantry, VII. 496.
Knighthood, XII. 746—how conferred,
VI. 605—arms and privileges of, 6013
—different orders of, 609—degrada¬
tion from, 613—in Prussia, XVIII.
695—order of the Thistle, XXI. 244.
See Chivalry, Knight.
Knighton, in Radnor, XII. 746.
Knittel, his publication of ■’Ulphilas’s
translation of the Epistle to the Ro¬
mans, XVI. 764, 766.
Knittlingen, XII. 746.
Knockfarril, vitrified fort on, IX. 756.
Knockmeledown mountains, XXI. 313.
Knolles (Richard), XII. 746.
Knot, bird, XVI. 624.
Knoot, a punishment, XII. 746.
Knowledge (human), division of the ob¬
jects of, by Bacon and by Locke, I.
1-3, 8—causes which combined to ac¬
celerate its progress after the revival
of letters, 16-19—its diffusion has im¬
proved the science of government, 24
—its porgress favoured by the Cru¬
sades, VII. 493—communication of,
XIII. 434—pleasures of, XV. 469—a
little not dangerous, XVII. 589—
Plato’s opinion of, XVIII. 31.
Knowles (Sir Robert), VI. 608.
  (Admiral), his quarrel with
Smollett, XX. 427.
 (Mr), on the nary, XVI. 47, 48.
■ (Sir Charles), on the resistance
of fluids, XIX. 174.
Knox (John), XII. 746 ; XIX. 732, et
seq.—M’Crie’s Life of, XIII. 661.
 ‘  (Dr R.), on the herring, XII.
214—on the whale, XIV. 188.
—(Mr), of Belfast, on the colours
of double plates, XIV. 449.
 (Dr Vicesimus), on domestic en¬
joyment, VIII. 100—on religious in¬
fidelity, XII. 271.
KNO—KOU
Knoxville, in Tennessee, XXL 183.
Knuphis, Egyptian deity, VIII. 551.
Knutsford, XII. 754.
Koala, in zoology, XIV. 129.
Koch (Paul de), his novels, XIX. 355.
Kochanowski, poet, XVIII. 214.
Kocher, XI. 314.
Kodiak, island, XII. 754.
Koei-Tchoo, in China, XII. 754.
Koei-Tchoo-Fou, in China, XII. 754.
Koelin mountains, XIII. 104.
Kcelreuteria paniculata, XVII. 787.
Kcempfer (Engelbert), physician, XII.
754— his account of Japan, XII. 510,
et seq. 754.
Koenig on bees’ cells, IV. 526.
Kohcraan, in Hindustan, XII. 754.
Kohistan, XIII. 19.
Kokaun, XII. 754 ; XXL 83.
Kolin, or Kollin, Austrian city, XII.
755— battle of, XVIII. 674.
Kollberg, Prussian city, XII. 755.
Kolomea, in Austria, XII. 755.
Kolpoda, genus of animalcules, III. 188.
Kolumna, in Russia, XII. 755.
Kolyvan, in Russia, XII. 755.
Komorn, in Austria, XII. 755.
Kong, African kingdom, XII. 756.
Kong-Chang-Fou, in China, XII. 756.
Kdngsberg, mine of, VI. 750.
Kongsburg, Norwegian city, XII. 756.
Konig (George Matthias), XII. 756.
Kdnig’s printing-machine, XVIII. 570.
Konigberg, Hungarian city, XII. 756.
Konigingratz, in Bohemia, XII. 756.
Konigsberg, Prussian city, XII. 756;
IV. 330—trade of, XVIII. 694—uni¬
versity of, 700.
Konigslutter, German city, XII. 757.
Konigsmark (Count), siege of Athens
by, IV.'128.
Konjgstein, XII. 757; XIX. 669.
Konjeur, in Hindustan, XII. 757.
Konkodoo, in Africa, XII. 757.
Koodo, African animal, II. 228.
Kookies, XII. 757 ; XI. 398.
Koolfa, II. 288.
Koom, Persian city, XII. 757.
Koontassee, Hindu town, XII. 758.
Koorankoo, in Africa, XII. 758.
Kookbah, Hindu town, XII. 758.
Kootahe, island, XII. 758.
Kopaul, Hindu town, XII. 758.
Kopys, Russian town, XII. 759.
Korah, in Hindustan, XII. 759.
Koran, II. 388 ; XIV. 31, 258—lan¬
guage of the, XVII. 369.
Kordofan, in Africa, XII. 759.
Kordos, Turkish town, XII. 759.
Koreish, Arab tribe, III. 330—dialect of
the, XVII. 368.
Korna, in Irak Arabi, XII. 759.
Korotscha, Russian city, XII. 760.
Kosciuszko (Thaddeus), XII. 760 ; V.
464 ; XVIII. 205 ; XIX. 553.
Koselsk, Russian city, XII. 761.
Kosfeld, Prussian city, XII. 761.
Kosinski, XVIII. 199.
Koslin, in Prussia, XII. 761.
Koslow, or Kosloff, in Russia, XII.
761; IV. 661 ; VII. 472.
Kossacks, VII. 383; VIII. 109; XIX.
540, 587.
Kostendie, Turkish city, XII. 761.
Koster (Laurence), XVIII. 541.
Kostroma, Russian province, XII. 761.
Koszog, in Hungary, XII. 761.
Kotbus, Prussian city, XII. 761.
Kothen, German city, XII. 761.
Koties, XI. 398.
Kotoo, island, XII. 761.
Kotterus (Christopher), XII. 761.
Kottiar, in Ceylon, XII. 761.
Kottilghur, Hindu fortress, XII. 761.
Kotzebue fA. G. F. F. Von), German
dramatist, XII. 762.
(Lieut.), his voyage of discovery,
XVIII. 220, 322, 329—his visit to
the Ladrone Islands, 317—on coral
islands, 329.
Kouangnan-Fou, in China, XII. 763.
Kouangsin, Chinese city, XII. 763.
Koubcabeia, African town, XII. 763.
KOU—KUT
Kouli Khan (Thomas), XII. 763.
Kouma, Russian river, XII. 763.
Koumess, Tartar wine, XII. 763.
Koum-Ombo, antiquities at, VIII. 533.
Koumyks, Tartar tribe, XII. 763.
Kournah, palace of, VIII. 538.
Kous, antiquities at, VIII. 542.
Koutokeino, in Finmark, XIII. 112.
Kovv-bird, XVI. 598.
Kowno, Russian city, XII. 763.
Kowznetzk, Russian town, XII. 763.
Kozaks. See Kossacks.
Krafft (Prof.), his experiments on the
reflection of cold, VII. 58—on magne¬
tism, XIII. 691—on mortality at Pe-
tersburgh, XV. 518.
Krailsheim, in Wirtemberg, XII. 763.
Krakatos, island, XII. 763.
Kraken, XII. 763.
Krantz (Albert), XII. 763.
Krasnistaw, Polish town, XII. 764.
Krasnoi, battle of, X. 159.
Krasnoiarsk, Russian town, XII. 764.
Kratzenstein on evaporation, IX. 425.
Kraw, isthmus, XII. 764.
Kray (General), X. 117.
Krementschuk, XII. 764.
Kremnitz, Austrian city, XII. 764.
Krems, Austrian city, XII. 764.
Kremsier, Austrian city, XII. 764.
Krenitzin (Capt.), voyage of, II. 403.
Krestxy, Russian city, XII. 764.
Kreuz, in Austria, XII. 764.
Kreuznach, Prussian city, XII. 764.
Krishna. See Kistna.
Krocker on the skin of plants, III. 67.
Kromy, Russian town, XII. 764.
Kronos, Egyptian deity, VIII. 552.
Kronstadt, city in Hungary, XII. 764 ;
VII. 480.
Kronus, Carthaginian god, XIX. 606.
Krook, Persian city, XII. 764.
Krossen, Prussian city, XII. 764.
Krotoszyn, Prussian city, XII. 764.
Krout (sour), IX. 734.
Krumau, Austrian city, XII. 764.
Krunitz on cookery, VIII. 26.
Kruse, novels of, XIX. 358.
Krusenstern’s voyage,II. 404; XIX. 557.
Kteifa, Syrian town, XII. 765.
Kuara, in Abyssinia, XII. 765.
Kuban, coast of the, IV. 661.
 , river, XIX. 564.
Kubbeer, salt lake, XII. 765.
Kubbees, Persian city, XII. 765.
Kublai-Khan, VI. 551.
Kufa, city in Asia, XII. 765.
Kuffstein, Austrian city, XII. 765.
Kuhl on parrots, XVI. 553.
Kuhne’s balance, XIV. 371.
Kuilenburg, XII. 765.
Kulm, Prussian city, XII. 765.
Kulmbach, in Bavaria, XII. 765.
Kumbalia, Hindu town, XII. 765.
Kumbur, IV 556.
Kcmi, island, XII. 765.
Kunashir, island, XII. 765.
Kunckel (John), chemist, XII. 765.
Kundal, Hindu town, XII. 765.
Kundapoor, Indian port, XII. 765.
Kunee, Hindu town, XII. 765.
Kunersdorf, battle of, XVIII. 678.
Kuopio, in Russia, XII. 765.
Kupffer on magnetism, XIII. 696, 705,
718, 719, 741.
Kuph, Syrian village, XII. 765.
Kur, Asiatic river, XII. 765.
Kurda, Hindu town, XII. 766.
Kurds, XXI. 420.
Kurgommah, Hindu town, XII. 766.
Kurile Isles, XII. 766; XIX. 590.
Kurreen Khan, XVII. 269.
Kursk, in Russia, XII. 766.
Kurtus, fish, XII. 188.
Kurzola, island, XII. 766.
Kuster (Ludolf), XII. 766—his edition
of Suidas, XX. 799.
Kusterdingen, XII. 766.
Kustrin, Prussian city, XII. 766.
Kutchum Khan, XX. 324.
Kuteera (Gum), VI. 478.
Kuttenburg, in Bohemia, XII. 766.
Kutubdea, island, XII. 766.
KUT—LAC
Kuty, Austrian city, XII. 766.
Kyan (J. H.), his method of preserving
ropes,timber, &c., XIX. 469; XX. 274.
Kyanite, a mineral. XV. 149—electrical
properties of, VIII. 578.
Kydd (Colonel R.), V. 77, n. 2.
Kyle, XII. 767 ; IV. 259.
Kyloes, cattle of the Hebrides, II. 323.
Kyphonism, punishment, XII. 767.
Kyrahgur, Hindu town, XII. 767.
Kyraut, in Hindustan, XII. 767.
Kyreeghur,' Hindu town, XII. 767.
L
L, letter of the alphabet, XIII. 1.
Laaland, island, XIII. 1 ; IV. 328.
Laarat Isle, XIII. 1.
Labadie (John), XIII. 1.
Labadists, religious sect, XIII. 1.
Labarum, Roman banner, XIII. 2.
Labat (J. B.), XIII. 2—his reasons for
concluding that the sugar-cane is a
native of America, XX. 791.
Labdanum, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Label, XIII. 2—in heraldry, ib.; XI.
PI. 277—in architecture. III. 468.
Labeo (C. A.), Roman lawyer, XIII. 2.
 , fish, XII. 198.
Labertus (D.), Roman knight, XIII. 2.
Labial Letters, XIII. 2.
Labiatae, in botany, V. 123.
Labiau, Prussian city, XIII. 2.
Labidus, insect, IX. 228.
Labillardifere (Monsieur), on the plants
of New Holland, V. 78 — botanical
works of, V. 87.
Labooan, island, XIII. 2.
Laboratory, XIII. 2.
Labour, Coulomb on daily, VII. 428—
its influence on the mind, VIII. 444—
the only source of wealth, XVIII. 272
—means of increasing its productive
power, 274—natural price of, XXI.
104.
 (division of), VI. 223 ; VII. 388;
XVIII. 276 — its effects on mentSl
character, III. 645 ; VIII. 144—its
advantages considered, VII. 166—its
disadvantages, 415.
Labouring classes, importance of pro¬
viding for their amusement, III. 267.
Laboureur (John le), XIII. 3.
Labrador, in North America, XIII. 3.
Labradorite, a mineral, XV. 153.
Labrax, fish, XII. 167.
Labridoe, in ichthyology, XII. 195.
Labrum, in antiquity, XIII. 5.
Labrus, fish, XII. 195.
Laburnum, XVII. 784, 787.
Laby, African city, XIII. 5.
Labyrinth, XIII. 5—Egyptian, III. 411;
VIII. 545—of the ear, II. 801.
Labyrinthiform Pharyngeals, XII. 190.
Lac or Lacca, dyestuff, XIII. 5; IX.
207 ; VIII. 297, 309, 314—its use in
electricity, 581.
Lac of Rupees, XIII. 5 ; IV. 764, n.
Lacaille (N. L. de), V. 777—his as¬
tronomical labours, III. 745—on the
earth’s size, I. 658 ; IX. 547, 548—
his solar tables, XIV. 335—his mi¬
crometer, XV. 24.
Laccadives, islands, XIII. 5.
Laccic acid, VI. 429.
Lace, XIII. 6—Mechlin and Brussels,
XIV. 120, 143.
Lace-manufacture, VII. 410—at Tiver¬
ton, 746—of England, VIII. 779.
Laced^mon, XIII. 7, 8. See Sparta.
Lacedonia, Neapolitan city, XIII. 8.
LacepMe on frogs, XIX. 152.
Lacepedes, islands, XIII. 8.
Lacerna, Roman garment, XIII. 8.
Lacerta, reptile, XIX. 139.
Laoertinidse, reptiles, XIX. 138.
La Charite, F'renchcity, XIII. 8.
Laches, in English law, XIII. 8.
Lachesis, in mythology, XIII. 8.
Lackine canal, VI. 64 ; XVI. 27.
INDEX
89
LAC—LAH
Lachish, in Palestine, XIII. 8.
Lachlan River, XXI. 715.
Lachrymal bone, II. 777—orifices, 800
—gland, ib.; in brutes, III. 21.
Lachrymatory, XIII. 8.
Lachsa, in Arabia, XIII. 8.
Lachsenburg, palace of, XXI. 046.
Lacinium, promontory, XIII. 8.
Lacistemese, in botany, V. 130.
Laconia, in Greece, XIII. 8 5 X. 724.
Laconic style, XX. 529.
Laconidm, XIII. 8.
Lacqering by the Japanese, XII. 517.
Lacquers, varnishes, XIII. 8.
Lacroze, on Coptic, XI. 313, etseq.
Lactantius (L. C. F.), XIII. 9 ; XVII.
413—bis work De Mortibus Persecu-
torum, IV. 334.
Lactation, XIV. 509; XVII. 693.
Lacteals, II. 728, 817; XVII. 632—dis¬
covery of the, II. 698 ; XVII. 728.
Lactho, in India, XIII. 9.
Lactic acid, VI. 427.
Lactiferous, in botany, XIII. 9.
Lactometer, VII. 593.
Lactuca virosa, a poison, XIV. 505.
Lacunar, in .architecture, XIII. 9 ; III.
468.
Lacy (Hugh de), XXI. 862.
Lacydes, XIII. 9.
Ladder, XIII. 10.
Laden, in nautical language, XIII. 10.
Ladbrnoje-pole, in Russia, XIII. 10.
Ladik, or Ladikieh, XIII. 10.
Ladislaus, XIII. 10.
Ladoga, Russian lake, XIII. 10 ; XIX.
565—canal, IV. 331 ; XVI. 4.
Lados Isles, XIII. 10.
Ladrones, or Mariana Islands, XIII.
10; XVIII. 316.
Lady, XIII. 10.
Lady-birds, insects, IX. 186.
Lady-day, XIII. 10.
LiBLius Sapiens (C.), XIII. 10.
Lsemodipoda, Crustacea, VII. 502.
L*na, ancient gown, XIII. 11.
 , insect, IX. 166.
Laerne, in the Netherlands, XIII. 10.
L^strygones, XIII. 11.
Laet (De), on birds, XVI. 545.
LiEVius, Latin poet, XIII. 11.
Lafayette, X. 51, et- seq., 122—his aid
to the Americans, V. 404.
Lafranc, archbishop, VIII. 713, 714.
Lagan navigation, XVI. 22.
Lagasca, botanist, V. 82, n. 3—on the
mountaineers of Leon, XIII. 231.
Lageman, in law, XIII. 11.
Lagen, ancient measure, XIII. 11.
Lagena, in conchology, XV. 345.
Lagomys, in zoology, XIV. 140.
Lagonegro, Neapolitan city, XIII. 11.
Lagopus, bird, XVI. 611.
Lagos, Portuguese city, XIII. 11.
Lagothrix, in zoology, XIV. 94.
Lagrange (J. L.), XIII. 11—his appli¬
cation of continued fractions to the
solution of numerical equations, 1. 590*
—on the calculus of variations, 600 ;
XXI. 558—sketched ithe method of
derivative functions, I. 601—discussed
the chief difficulties of the theory of
hydrodynamics, 608—his calculations
regarding the lunar and planetary
motions, 669—his solution of the pro¬
blem of disturbing forces, 670—on
the calculus of sines, II. 493—his
astronomical discoveries, III. 751—
on the strength of columns, VI. 153—
on the action of watch-springs, 787—
on the orbits of comets, VII. 138—on
dynamics, VIII. 388—on equations,
IX. 324, 343—on the calculus, IX.
—on waves, XII. 5—his mathe¬
matical discoveries, XIV. 323—on
mechanics, 354, 355—on the projec¬
tion of the sphere, XVIII. 658—on
spherical trigonometry, XXI. 378.
Lagria, insect, IX. 167.
Lagriarue, insects, IX. 167.
Laguna, XIX. 642.
 , in Teneriffe, VI. 74.
LAHDACK.in Hindustan, XIII. 18.
LAH—LAM
Laiiijan, Persian city, XIII. 18.
Lahire (Philip de>, XI. 468—on the
fusee of watches, VI. 787.
Lahore, in Hindustan, XIII. 19, 20.
Lahr, German city, XIII. 20.
Laibach, in Austria, XIII. 20.
L’Aigle, French city, XIII. 20.
Laing (Malcolm), XIII. 20—-on Ossian,
XVI. 662 — his character of Spots-
wood, XX. 548.
 'Captain), III. 668.
 (Major), his account of Kooran-
koo, XII. 758.
  (Samuel), his account of Nor¬
way, XVI. 261, et seq.
Lair (Pierre-Aime), V. 218.
Laird’s African discoveries, XVI. 221.
Laire on early printed books, IV. 624.
Lairesse (G.), painter, XIII. 25.
Lais, Greek courtezan, XIII. 25.
Laity, XIII. 25.
Lakes, XIII. 25 ; X. 407—influence of
♦ the sun’s rays on, VI. 748—their tem¬
perature at different depths, 749—ac¬
count of the principal, XVII. 522—
periodic, 523—in gardening, X. 326.
Seq America, Asia, Canada, &c.
 , colour, XIII. 27—in crayon¬
painting, VII. 453.
 ‘(General), XI. 435, ei seq.—his
attack on Bhurtpore, IV. 611.
 , or Lacque, XIII. 27.
LalaNde (J. J. L.), XIII. 27—his astro¬
nomical labours, III. 746—on the sun’s
motion, 781 ; and spots, 783—on the
moon’s influence on the weather, XV.
442.
Lallemand (Monsieur), on cerebral dis¬
ease, XVII. 479, 484, 491, 492—on
complication of diseases, 492.
Lally (Count), XI. 416.
Lama, XIII. 31.
 of Tibet, XXI. 257, 258.
 , in zoology, XIV. 157 ; IV. 747.
Lamalmon, Abyssinian mountain, II. 56.
Lamanon (R. P.), naturalist, XIII. 31.
Lamarck, his classification of the mol-
lusca, III. 170 ; of animals, 172-6,
181 ; of the arachnides, 347, 181—on
the operations of nature, 176, n.—on
animalcules, 185 — his botanical la¬
bours, V. 87—on the mollusca, XV.
333—on the moon’s influence on the
weather, 442—on the gradation of
animals, XVII. 587.
Lamartine on Jerusalem, XII. 545.
Lamay, island, XIII. 31.
Lamb (Charles), essayist, XIII. 31.
 —, Scythian, moss, XIII. 31.
Lambs, XIII. 31—management of, II.
333—house-lambs, 337.
Lamballe, French city, XIII. 32.
Lambay, island, VIII. 234.
Lambdoidal suture, II. 782.
Lambecius, or Lambeck (Peter), Ger¬
man biographer, XIII. 32.
Lambert of Ascjiaffenburg, XIII. 33.
 (John), XIII. 33.
  (John Henry), XIII. 36—his
character as a philosopher, I. 189—
first demonstrated the incommensu¬
rability of the circle, 584—his treatise
entitled Photometria, 638—on the or¬
bits of comets, VII. 138—his Theorem,
ib.,145—hisdial,776—on water-wheels,
XII. 86—on magnetism, XIII. 689—
on the height of the atmosphere, XIV.
719—on mortality, XV. 546—on op¬
tics, XVI. 363—on the projection of
the sphere, XVIII. 657—on acoustics,
XXI. 398, 399.
Lambertine (Prosper), IV. 562.
Lambeth, in Surrey, XIII. 38—library,
297—palace, 547.
Lambin (Denis), XIII. 39.
Lambinet’s work on the origin of print¬
ing, IV. 623.
Lambton (Colonel), his measurement of
a degree of latitude, I. 659 ; IX. 551.
 (Mr), his reform bill, V. 553.
Lame (Mons.),on optics, XVI. 377,493.
Lamech, XIII. 39.
Lamego, Portuguese city, XIII. 39.
LAM—LAN
Lamellicornes, insects, IX. 151.
Lamellirostres, birds, XVI. 635.
Lamentations of Jeremiah, XIII. 39.
Lamia, insect, IX. 180.
Lamias, daemons, XIII. 40.
Lamiariaj, insects, IX. 179.
Lamina of leaves, V. 35.
Lamington Priors, XIII. 40.
Lamjungh, in Hindustan, XIII. 40.
Lamlash, in Arran, V. 751.
Lamna, fish, XII. 232.
Lammas-day, XIII. 40.
Lammer-geyer, bird, XVI. 560.
Lammermoor hills, IV. 597.
Lamoignon (C. F. de), XIII, 40.
Lamoral, Count Egmont, XI. 511, ei seq.
La Motta, Italian town, Xlll. 40.
Lamp, XIII. 40—Davy’s safety-lamp,
VII. 641 ; XIII. 46 ; XV. 245—elec¬
trical, VIII. 661—for microscopes,
XV. 51—for light-houses, XX. 19, 22.
Lampadary, church officer, XIII. 48.
Lampas, XXI. 622.
Lampedosa, V. 515.
Lampedusa, island, XIII. 48.
Lampern, fish, XII. 236.
Lampong, in Sumatra, XIII. 48.
Lamprey, fish, XII. 236—its respiratory
organs, III, 40.
LAMPRiDius(ff21ius), historian, XIII. 48.
 (Benedict), poet, XIII. 48.
Lamprima, insect, IX. 162.
Lampris, fish, XII. 189.
Lamprosoma, insect, IX. 183.
Lamprotornis, bird, XVI. 572.
Lampsacus, or Lampsacum, XIII. 48.
Lampugus, fish, XII. 187.
Lampyrides, insects, IX. 141.
Lampyris, insect, IX. 141.
Lana (F.), on aeronautics, II. 179.
Lanark, XIII. 48—New Lanark, 50.
Lanarkshire, XIII. 50—horses of, II.
317; XI. 597.
Lanbrynmair, Welsh town, XIII. 51.
Lancashire, XIII. 51—breed of cattle
in, II. 322—elevation of bed of the
sea, XV. 218—paper-making, XVII.
19. See Cotton-Manufacture.
Lancaster, XIII. 54—canal, XVI. 15.
 , in Pennsylvania, XVII. 224.
Lancavy, or Pulo Lada, XIII. 54.
Lance, a spear, XIII. 54.
Lancelottus (J. P.), Institutes of, VI. 93.
Lancerota, VI. 74.
Lancers, British, III. 620.
Lancet, surgical instrument, XIII. 54.
Lancet-arch, III. 455.
Lancerota island, XIII. 55.
Lanch, XIII. 54, 125 ; IV. 722.
Lancisi (J. M.), physician, XIII. 55.
Land, XIII. 55—evils of minute sub¬
division of, among tenants, VII. 386 ;
and proprietors, 391.
Land-breeze, III. 679.
Landa, town in Borneo, XIII. 55.
Landau, in Bavaria, XIII. 55.
Landchester, in Durham, Roman camp
near, VIII. 291.
Landen, in the Netherlands, XIII. 55.
 (John), XIII. 55—his life, writ¬
ings, and contributions to mathema¬
tics, I. 601; XIV. 323.
Lander (R. and J.), VI. 724 ; XVI. 218.
Landernau, French city, XIII. 57-
Landes (Les), in France, XIII. 57»
Landgrave, XIII. 57.
Landgraviate, XIII. 57*
Landguard, in Suffolk, XIII. 57.
Landings, in architecture, V. 676.
Landisfarne, XI. 535; XVI. 253.
Landlord, connexion of tenant with, II.
343. See Lease.
Land-rail shooting, XX. 307.
Landrecies, X. 87.
Landrecy, French city, XIII. 57.
Landsberg, XIII. 57.
Landscape, in painting, XIII. 57.
Landscapes, beauty of, IV. 490.
Landscape-Gardening, X. 318.
Landscrona, battle of, XXI. 21.
Landshut, XIII. 57,' 58 — battle of
XVIII. 679.
Landskron, in Bohemia, XIII. 58.
LAN
Landskrona, Swedish city, XIII. 58.
Land-Tax, XIII. 55—in England, XXL
102—in France, 104—act authorizing
redemption of, V. 483.
Land-Waiter, XIII. 55.
Lane (Edward W.), on the plague in
Egypt, XVII. 777.
Lane’s discharging electrometer de¬
scribed, VIII. 659.
Lanesborough, Irish town, XIII. 58.
Lanfranko (G.), painter, XIII. 58.
 , archbishop, XIII. 58.
Lang (James), his rope-machinery, XIX.
468—his safety-keel, XX. 285.
 (Dr), on the European popula¬
tion of New Zealand, XXI. 977.
Langbaine (Dr Gerard), XIII. 58.
 (Gerard), XIII. 58.
Langeland, island, XIII. 58.
Langenberg, in Prussia, XIII. 58.
Langenbrucken, XIII. 58.
Langendielan, XIII. 58.
Langenschwalbach, XIII. 58.
Langenthal, Swiss town, XIII. 58.
Langesalza, Prussian city, XIII. 58.
Langhemark, XIII. 58.
Langhorne (John), XIII. 58.
Langius on the mollusca, XV. 329.
Langland (Robert), old English poet,
XIII. 59—quotation from, IX. 40.
Langley, town in Bucks, XIII. 59.
  (Batty), on pointed architec¬
ture, III. 431.
Langport, in Somerset, XIII. 59—
canal to Ilchester, XVI. 14.
Langrel Shot, XIII. 59.
Langres, in France, XIII. 59.
Langside, battle of, XIX. 740.
Langton (Stephen), archbishop, XIII.
59 ; VIII. 721-2.
Language, XIII. 60—American lan¬
guages, II. 617—Anglo-Saxon, V. 275
—Celtic, ib.—Chinese, VI. 562—
Coptic, VIII. 520—Cornish, VII. 368
—Danish, 729—Etruscan, IX. 388—
Malay, XX. 805—Norse, VII. 729—
Nubian, VIII. 559—Peruvian, II.
628—Russian, XIX. 584—Sanscrit, I.
204—metaphorical, IV. 494—figura¬
tive, VII. 186—improvement of, tends
to accelerate the advancement of
science and learning, I. 39—Rousseau
and others on the origin and history
of, 174-7—superiority of English over
French as an instrument of thought,
229—value of German, in philosophi¬
cal discussions, 295—Leibnitz on the
etymological study of, 136, 262—in¬
adequacy of ordinary language for
the purposes of philosophy, 294—
Academies of Languages, II. 76—pro¬
posals of a universal, 545—affinities
of, 710; XV. 599—antennal, of ants,
III. 241—Aristotle on, 510—of brutes,
V. 617—deductions as to the origin
and descent of nations from analogies
of, VI. 274—origin of diversity of,
621 ; VII. 213—Condillac’s theory of
its necessity to the development of
ideas, 204—parts of speech, 205—
teaching of, to the d ' 1 and dumb, 646
—of gestures, 648, 651—origin of, X.
638—words considered as the signs of
ideas, XIII. 434,etseq.—difference be¬
tween human and brutal, XIV. 197—
diversity of languages no proof against
the unity of the human race, 203—
relations of, 204 — general terms,
623—association gives meaning to
words, 627—faculty of, XVII. 464—
imperfections of, 562—of the Scrip¬
tures, XIX. 781. See Grammar,
Philology, English, French, Greek,
Latin, Sanscrit, &c.
Langued, in heraldry, XIII. 94.
Languedoc, in France, XIII. 94—canal
of, X. 172 * XVI. 5.
Languet (Hubert), XIII. 94.
 (John B. J.), XIII. 95.
Languor, XIII. 95.
Languria, insect, IX. 185.
Lanham, or Lavenham, XIII. 127.
Laniard, or Lanyard* XIII. 95,
90
INDEX,
LAN—LAR
Lanigekous, XIII. 95.
IiANISTA, XIII. 95.
Lanins, bird, XVI. 568.
Lanjang, XIII. 95.
Lankeroon, X. 497.
Lannion, in France, XIII. 95.
Lansberg (Philip), III. 538.
Lansqoinet, a game, XIII. 95.
Lantern, XIII. 98—magic, XVI. 513.
• , in architecture, XIII. 96 5 III.
468—of Demosthenes, 416, 436; IV.
119.
Lantern-fly, IV. 203.
Lanterns (Feast of), XIII. 96.
Laocoon, XIII. 96 ; VIII. PI. 198.
Laodice, VI. 125-6.
Laodicea, XIII. 96.
Lao-kium, Chinese sectary, XV. 677.
Laomedon, king of Troy, XIII. 96.
Laon, in France, XIII. 96—battle of,
X. 167.
Laos, in India, XIII. 96.
Lapa Isle, XIII. 97.
Lapathus, town in Cyprus, XIII. 97.
Laperouse (J. F. G. de), XIII. 97;
XVII. 336—his voyage and discoveries,
XVIII. 323, 785.
Laphria, insect, IX. 268.
Lapidary, XIII. 97—Style, 98.
Lapidescent, XIII. 98.
Lapis, XIII. 98—Lazuli, XV. 150.
Lapith.*, XIII. 98.
Lapithus, XIII. 98.
Laplace (P. S. Marquis de), XIII. 98
—on the advantages of learned socie¬
ties, I. 47—on cause and effect, 286—
on probabilities, 224 ; XVIII. 593—
on capillary attraction, I. 616; VI.
114, 118; XII. 47, 49—on the moon’s
secular equation, I. 670—on Jupiter’s
satellites, ib.; IV. 35, 36 — on the
propagation and velocity of sound,
II. 117 ; XX. 484—on the force of
adhesion, II. 151—on the values of
annuities, III. 209—on the utility of
logarithms, 7 41—his astronomical dis¬
coveries, 752—on the inequalities of
the moon’s orbit, IV. 57—on baro¬
metrical measurements, 399—on ob¬
lique refraction, VI. 651—on cohe¬
sion, VII. 22—on the orbits of comets,
138—on electricity, VIII. 573, 604—
his excessive love of calculation, XIII.
18—his mathematical discoveries,
XIV. 324—on meteorolites, 714—on
the pendulum, XVII. 210—oversights
and inconsistencies in his Mecanique
Celeste, XX. 484—his formula repre¬
senting law of relation between tem¬
perature and elasticity of steam, 594
—on the tides, XXI. 260.
Lapland, XIII. 103—rein-deer of,XIV.
158.
Laplanders, IX. 410—their bows, V.
155 — language, XIII. 89 — persons,
XIV. 199.
Lapostolle (Monsieur), paragreles pro¬
posed by, VIII. 622.
Lapse, XIII. 113.
Lapwing, bird, XVI. 617.
Lapwing-shooting, XX. 307.
Laquearics, XIII. 113.
Lar, Persian city, XIII. 113.
Lap. acre, seaport of Morocco, XIII. 113.
Lararium, XIII. 113.
Larboard, nautical term, XIII. 113.
Larceny, or theft, XIII. 113.
Larch-timber, XVI. 50; XXI. 296—its
use in joinery, XII. 618.
Larch-tree, XVII. 747, 780, 781, 790—
larch-woods in Perthshire, XVII. 290.
Lard, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Lardner (Nathaniel), XIII. 114.
Larentinalia, XIII. 114.
Lares, XIII. 114; XVIII. 335.
Large, nautical term, XIII. 115.
Largitio, XIII. 115.
Largo, village in Fife, XIII. 115.
Largs, Scotch village, XIII. 115.
Larissa, Thessalian city, XIII. 115.
Laristan, in Persia, XIII. 115.
Lark, XVI. 579.
Lark-shooting, XX. 307.
LAR—LAU
Larke river navigation, XVI. 15.
Larmier, in architecture, XIII. 115.
Larra, insect, IX. 229.
Larrates, insects, IX. 229.
Larrek, island, XIII. 116.
Larta, III. 630.
Larus, bird, XVI. 632.
Larva of insects, XIII. 116; IX. 87.
Larvae, in antiquity, XIII. 116.
Laryngitis in animals, XXI. 629.
Larynx, XVII. 682—muscles of, II. 794
—anatomy of, II. 805—comparative
anatomy of, III. 28.
Lascaris (Andrew John), XIII. 116.
 (Constantine), XIII. 116.
Las Casas (Bartholomeo de), VI. 209.
Lasema (General), IV. 757.
Lash, nautical term, XIII. 116.
Lasiocampa, insect, IX. 247.
Lasioptera, insects, IX. 260.
Lasphe, Prussian town, XIIl. 116.
Lassa, town in Tibet, XIII. 117.
Last, a measure, XIII. 117.
Lastage, orLestage, XIII. 117.
Lasus, or Lassus, poet, XIIL 117.
Laswaree, Hindu village, XIII. 117—
battle of, XXI. 751.
Lateen Sail, XIIL 117.
Latelus, fish, XII. 176.
Latent heat, XI. 189, 191; XVII. 449 ;
XX. 572, 601—Dr Black’s discovery
of, I. 644; IV. 656—of aqueous va¬
pour, XII. 129.
Lateran, XIII. 117.
Latere, XIII. 117.
Lates, fish, XII. 168.
Laths, in building, XIII. 117—plaster¬
ing on, V. 678.
Latham, in Lancashire, XIII. 117.
  (Dr), on sympathetic cerebral
disease', XVII. 485—on pericarditis,
489—on morbid anatomy, 491—on
birds, XVI. 549.
Lathe, for turning, XIII. 117.
Lathreve, Saxou officer, XIII. 118..
Lathrobium, insect, IX. 137.
Lathyrus, VIII. 473.
Latiar, Roman feast, XIII. 118.
Laticlave, XIII. 118.
Latimer (Hugh), XIII. 118; VIII. 753.
Latin language, XIII. 118, 64, et seq. ;
XVII. 408—appropriate as the lan¬
guage of botany, V. 60—its progres¬
sive improvement, XII. 292—its affi¬
nities, XIII. 87—its excellence and
usefulness, XVII. 413—languages de¬
rived from it, 422—Bibles, IV. 615;
XIX. 790—editions of the classics,
IV. 625—moods and tenses, X. 691—
Law-Latin, XIII. 146.
Latinos, king, XIII. 118.
Latisana, Italian town, XIIL 118.
Latitude, in astronomy, XIII. 118;
III. 759—method of reducing geocen¬
tric to heliocentric, IV. 19.
 , in geography, X. 404 ; XV. 752
—mode of finding, 778; IV. 65—its ef¬
fect on temperature, XVII. 543; on
plants, 545—calculation of latitudes in
the trigonometrical survey, XXI. 367.
Latitodinarian, XIII. 118.
Latium, in Italy, XIII. 118.
Latmus, Ionian mountain, XIII. 118.
Latomia, XIII. 118.
Latona, in mythology, XIII. 119.
Latopolis, ruins of, VIII. 534.
La Tour do Pin, in France, XIII. 119.
Latreille on ants, III. 239, et seq.—his
classification of the arachnides, III.
347, 350, 351—on entomology, VII.
571—on the geographical distribution
of insects, IX. 101.
Latridius, insect, IX. 176.
Latrine, XIII. 119.
Latrobite,.specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Latronculi, Roman game, XIII. 119.
Lattakoo, XIII. 164 ; V. 21.
Lattalatta, island, XIII. 119.
Latten, XIII. 119—brass, ib.
Lattice-windows, X. 575.
Lauban, Prussian city, XIII. 120.
Laud (W.), archbishop, XIII. 120—his
ecclesiastical and political conduct,
LAU—LAW
V. 314—accused of high treason, 319
—executed, 326—his character, XV.
90, n. 3—his constitution of the Uni¬
versity of Dublin, XXI. 522.
Laudatio, law term, XIII. 120.
Lauder (William), XIII. 120—his false
charges of plagiarism against Milton,
XV. 96, n., 106.
Lauderdale (Duke of), his administra¬
tion in Scotland, V. 350 ; VII. 597.
Laudicoeni, XIII. 120.
Laudohn (Field-Marshal), XIII. 121
XVIII. 676, et seq. ; XXI. 414.
Lauds, or Laudes, XIII. 121.
Lauenburg, XIII. 121; VII. 726.
Lauffen, in Wirtemberg, XIII. 121.
Laugharne, Welsh town, XIII. 121.
Laughing-gas. See Nitrous oxide.
Laughter, XIII. 121; XIV. 196; XIX.
249—death from, VIII. 212, note 1.
Lauingen, Bavarian city, XIII. 124.
Laumonite, XV. 151 ; sp. gr. of, XII. 32.
Launce, fish, XII. 227.
Launceston, in Cornwall, XIII. 124—
canal to Bude, XVI. 9.
Laonch, sea-term, XIII. 125.
 , boat, XIII. 54; IV. 722.
Launching of ships, XX. 295.
Launder, in mineralogy, XIII. 125.
Laupen, Swiss town, XIII. 125.
Laura, XIIl. 125.
Laureate (Poet), XIII. 125.
Laurel-trees, XVII. 786.
Laurence (John), on horses, XI. 580.
Laurenceburgh, a town in the state of
Indiana, XII. 266.
Laurentalia, Roman feasts, XIII. 125.
Laurentium, Latin town, XIII. 126.
Laurentius, early printer, XIII. 126.
Lauricocha, river, XVII. 524.
Laurineae, in botany, V. 126.
Lauro (P.), painter, XIII. 126.
Laurus (L.), on aeronautics, II. 179.
Lausanne, Swiss city, XIII. 126.
Lausatia, in Saxony, XIII. 126.
Lauterbach, German town, XIII. 126.
Lauth (Dr T.), his History of Anatomy,
II. 705—on the lymphatics, II. 729.
Lauxania, insect, IX. 285.
Lava, XIII. 126—of Iceland, XII. 147.
Laval, in France, XIII. 126.
Lavalle (General), V. 660.
Lavater (John Gaspard ■ Christian),
XIII. 127—his doctrine of physiogno¬
my, XVII. 576.
Lavatory, or Lavadero, XIII. 127.
Lavaur, in France, XIII. 127.
Lavenbrugen (Nicholas), XXI. 44.
Laveniiam, in Suffolk, XIII. 127.
Laver, sacred Jewish utensil, XIII. 127.
Laverna, goddess of thieves, XIII. 127.
Lavinium, town in Latium, XIII. 127.
Lavoisier (A. L.), XIII. 127—on the
composition of the atmosphere, IV.
134—on fermentation, V. 247—che¬
mical discoveries of, VI. 262, 350—on
electricity, VIII. 573, 604—his con¬
nexion with Laplace, XIII. 101—his
air-pump, XVIII. 89—his pyrometer.
747.
Law, XIII. 128—Athenian, IV. 165—
English, IX. 24—French, X. 132,216;
XIII. 184, 200 ; XVIII. 736—Lom¬
bard, XIII. 466—maritime, XIV. 248
—martial, XV. 67—mercantile, XIV.
590—Mosaic, XV. 564—of the Twelve
Tables, XIX. 373—Venetian mari¬
time, VII. 493—Academies of, II. 75
—the Economists on, VIII. 403—in¬
stitutions connected with, in London,
XIII. 527—duty of obedience to, XV.
477—taxes on law proceedings, XXI.
116—cheap in Switzerland, 50—Ro¬
man actions, II. 131—capitularies,
VI. 123—jury-trial, XII. 649 — law-
language, XIII. 146. See Canon Law,
Civil Law, Code, Courts, Crime, Feu¬
dal Law, Honour, Jurisprudence, Law
of Nations, Law of Nature, Legisla¬
tion, Medical Jurisprudence, Police,
Punishment.
Law of Nations, XIII. 133, 130—
blockade, IV. 707—Are all treaties
LAW—LEA
annulled by war ? V. 509. See Ba¬
lance of Power.
Law of Nature, XIII. 129.
Laws of Nature, XVII. 434, 438, 561,
574, 593 ; XXI. 586—with reference
to prayer, XVIII. 505.
Law (Edmund), bishop, XIII. 151—his
notes to his translation of Archbishop
King’s work on the Origin of Evil, I.
170—his ethical works, 171-2 — ou
matter, XIV. 646, n.
——— (John), projector, XIII. 147; X.
35—his schemes opposed by D’Agues-
seau, II. 359.
 (William), XIII. 152.
Lawburrows taken out by Charles II.
against his Scottish subjects, V. 350.
Lawless Coort, XIII. 153.
Lawn, XIII. 153.
Lawrence (Sir Thomas), painter, XIII.
153; XVI. 703.
 (W.), on the natural history of
man, XIV. 194, 202, 203.
 (St), river, XIII. 154; VI. 58
—freezing of, 60, 64—navigation of,
XVI. 27—tides in, XXI. 282.
 (St), gulf of, XIII. 155.
 (St), Russian island, XIX. 590.
Lawyers, diseases of, XIV. 509. See
Advocate.
Lay, poem, XIII. 155.
Lay-Brothers, XIII. 155.
Layback, congress at, V. 552.
Laycacota, silver-mines of, XVIII. 739.
Layman, XIII. 155.
Layers, in gardening, XIII. 155—pro¬
pagation of fruits by, XI. 635.
Laying-off, in ship-building, XX. 275.
Layon, canal of, XVI. 6.
Lazaretto, or Lazar-house, XIII. 155;
XIV. 512.
Laziens, coast of the, IV. 661.
Lazzaroni of Naples, X. 110.
Lea, river, XI. 284—its navigation,
XVI. 15.
Leach (Dr), on the Crustacea, VII. 500,
504—on the myriopodaj, XV. 652.
Lead, XIII. 155 ; VI. 411—its use in
assaying, III. 711—sheet-lead, V. 693
—compounds of, VI. 411—use of its
salts in calico-printing, 341—salts of
protoxide of, 450—saccharate of, 472
—use of its protoxide as a mordant,
VIII. 304—-chromate of, used in dye¬
ing, 321—windows of, X. 575—specific
gravity of lead-ore, and of lead and its
salts, XII. 32, 37—its poisonous qua-
j lity, XIV. 501—culinary utensils of,
508—plumbery, XVIII. 62; V. 693
—cohesion of, XX. 757—heaving the,
486. See Lead-mines.
 (black). See Plumbago.
Lead-colic, XVII. 487.
Lead-glance, in mineralogy, XV. 169 —
specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Lead-mines in Britain, XV. 248—Car¬
diganshire, VI. 137 — Cumberland,
VII. 537—Derbyshire, 735—Durham,
VIII. 290 —England, 769—Europe,
IX. 409 ; XV. 248, 252—Illinois, XII.
248 — Leadhills and Wanlockhead,
VIII. 262 ; XIII. 49—Missouri, XV.
302—Montgomeryshire, 434—North¬
west Territory, XVI. 255 — Tibet,
XXI. 256—the United States,454. See
the geographical articles generally.
Lead-spar, in mineralogy, XV. 144.
Leadenhall Market, XIII. 507.
Leadhills, VIII. 262—mines at, XIII. 49.
Leaf, XIII. 156—leaf buds, III. 90; V.
32. See Leaves.
   of clocks, XIII. 156.
Leaf-eating bees, IX. 233.
Leaf-skeletons, XIII. 156.
League, measure, XIII. 156.
 , or alliance, XIII. 156—French
Catholic League, ib ; X. 33
Leak in a ship, XIII. 156.
Leakage, XIII. 156.
Leake (Richard), XIII. 156.
  (Sir John), English admiral,
XIII. 157.
 (Col.), his map of Egypt, VIII*
INDEX
91
LEA—LEE
553—on the topography of Athens,
IV. 114, et seq. — on the river Nile,
XVI. 225.
Leake (Stephen Martin), XIII. 157.
Leamington, XXI. 782.
Leandek, XIII. 158.
Lead, XIII. 158.
Leao-Tong (Gulf of), XIII. 158.
Leap, in music, XIII. 158.
Leap-year, VI. 5.
Leaping, XIII. 158—muscles employed
in, II. 797—of horses, XI. 586, 613.
Lear, British king, XIII. 158.
 (Mr), on parrots, XVI. 553.
Learchus, Greek sculptor, XIII. 158.
Learning, revival of, in Europe, VII.
495 ; I. 14.
Leases, XIII. 158—during the middle
ages, II. 252—in ancient Attica, IV.
172.
   (agricultural), VIII. 766—ad¬
vantages and duration of, II. 343 —
covenants of, III. 45.
Lease and Release, XIII. 158.
Leash, among sportsmen, XIII. 158.
Leather, XIII. 158—currying of, VII.
556—its friction on iron, XIV. 412-
tanning of, XXI. 74—manufacture of,
in England, VIII. 777 ; and France,
X. 183.
Leaven, XIII. 159—baking with, IV.
297.
Leaves of plants, XIII. 156 ; V. 33—
passage of sap through, III. 51—
changes of sap in, ib.; XXI. 574—ab¬
sorption by, III. 55—structure of, 93 ;
XXI. 575—fall of, VII. 672; XXI.
588—influence of, on the course and
motion of sap, 572—functions of, 581.
Lebadea, town in Boeotia, XIII. 159.
Lebaillif’s sideroscope, XIII. 771—his
electro-magnetic multiplier, XXI. 688.
Lebanon, XIII. 269 ; XVI. 744 ; ■ XXL
59—cedars of, 60 ; !XVII. 747, 781,
782,785.
Lebedan, in Russia, XIII. 159.
Lebedjan, in Russia, XIII. 159.
Lebia, insect, IX. 116.
Lebias, fish, XII. 199.
Lebida, II. 236.
Leblanc on crystallization, VII. 506.
Lebon, X. 93, w. 1.
Lebon’s equation-clock, VI. 783.
Lebrija, Spanish town, XIII. 159.
Le Brun (Charles), V. 611—his pic¬
tures, XVI. 723.
Lecat on giants, X. 500.
Lecce, Neapolitan city, XIII. 159.
Lecount(Mr), on magnetism, XIII. 723.
Le Croific, French sea-port, XIII. 159.
Lecti, Roman beds, XIII. 159.
Lectica, Roman litter, XIII. 159.
Lecticarii, litter-bearers, XIII. 159.
Lecticarius, XIII. 159.
Lectisternium, ceremony, XIII. 159.
Lectores, XIII. 159.
Lectoure, in France, XIII. 159.
Lecturers, preachers, XIII. 160. *
Lecythidese, in botany, V. 110.
Leda, in fabulous history, XIII. 160.
Ledbury, in Herefordshire, XIII. 160.
Ledger, XIII. ICO ; IV. 784—balancing
of, 788.
Ledges of ships, XX. 285.
Ledra, insect, IX. 204.
Lee, among seamen, XIII. 160.
 , river in the county of -Cork,
VII. 329—its navigation, XVI. 22.
 (Harriet), her novels, XIX. 347.
 (Sir H.), saved by a dog, V. 617.
 (Mr), his process for bleaching
flax, IV. 688.
— (Nathaniel), XIII. 160.
Lee’s Introduction to Botany, V. 84.
Lee-Boo (Prince), XVII. 180.
Leeches, XI. 223—structure of, XVII.
7 20—absurd practice of applying them
to bruised parts, XX. 840.
 , in a ship, XIII. 160.
Leech-Lines, XIII. 160—Rope, ib.
Leeds, in Yorkshire, XIII. 160—canal
to Liverpool, XVI. 15.
Leefoga, island, XIII. 164.
LEE—LEI
Leek, in Staffordshire, XIII. 164.
 , culture of, XI. 671.
Leer, in glass-making. See Glass.
 , city of Hanover, XIII. 164.
Leers, his botanical engravings, V. 80.
Lees, in liquors, XIII. 164.
Leetakoo, XIII. 164 ; V. 21.
Leeuwarden, XIII. 164.
Leeuwenhoeck (Antony), XIII. 255—
on anatomy, II. 700 ; XVII. 728—on
vegetable anatomy, III. 42, etseq.—his
microscopic discoveries, 184—on ants,
239 — on spiders’ threads, 356—on
structure of the muscles, XVII. 608
—on globules of the blood, 635.
Lee-way, XV. 750 ; XX. 256.
Lefevre (Tannegui), IX. 528.
Leg, muscles of the, II. 794—attitudes,
796—motions, 797—legs of insects,
IX. 76.
Leg-bone, II. 790—in the mammalia, III.
9—in birds, 13.
Leg-evil, in sheep, XXL 621.
Legacy-duties, XXI. 117.
Legaspe (Lopez de), his visits to the La-
drone Islands, XVIII. 316.
Legat (F.), on engraving, IX. 50.
Legate, pope’s ambassador, XIII. 164.
Legates, Roman officer, XIII. 164.
Legend, XIII. 165.
Legendre on the orbits of comets, VII.
139, 140, 146—on the earth’s figure,
IX. 551, 567—his work on geometry,
X. 430—on the method of the least
squares, XVIII. 638.
Leger Line, in music, XIII. 165.
Legerdemain, XIII. 165.
Legestan, VII. 586.
Legh’s visit to Egypt, VIII. 557.
Leghorn, XIII. 165—Sir Robert Bud-
ley’s improvement of, VIII. 251.
Leghorn-bonnets, XI. 167.
Legions (Roman), XIII. 165 ; III. 590
—their mobility, 594.
Legion of Honour, X. 122, 216.
Legislation, XIII. 166 — the Econo¬
mists on, VIII. 403—medical, XIV.
529. See Jurisprudence.
Legislator, XIII. 202.
Legitimation, XIII. 202.
Legnago, Italian city, XIII. 202.
Legumen, XIII. 202 ; V. 48.
Leguminous, XIII. 202 ; V. 106.
Lehwald (General), XVIII. 674.
Leia, insect, IX. 263.
Leibnitz (G. W.), XIII. 202; V. 25—
on the merits of Descartes, Hobbes,
Bacon, and Campanella, I. 26—his ob¬
jections to Malebranche’s principles
relative to cause and effect, 78—his
veneration for the Roman law, 92—
his misapprehension of Locke’s doc¬
trine on the origin of knowledge, 113
—the school which he founded strong¬
ly discriminated from Locke’s, 122—
effects of his correspondence, 123—
coincidence between him and Cud-
worth concerning innate ideas, ib.—
doctrines which he laboured to estab¬
lish, 124—his theory of pre-established
harmony, ib., 125—contrast between
his speculations and the doctrines of
Locke, 126—his scheme of optimism,
ib., et seq.—his work entitled Theodi-
ceea, 126-7,129—maintained necessity,
but opposed materialism, 128—on the
soul, ib.—injurious influence of his
doctrine of fatalism, 129—on the prin¬
ciple of a sufficient reason, 130, et
seq.; 536-7—histheoryofmonads,130,
255—on the law of continuity, 257-8,
537—on the states of rest and motion
of bodies, 257—on the existence of the
soul after death, 259—his mind, in
reasoning upon metaphysical subjects,
biassed by geometry, ib.—extension of
his principle by Helvetius, 135—on
the etymological study of languages,
136, 262—his assertion that all proper
names were at first appellatives, 260
—his genius, 137—his credulity, 138,
261—value of his speculations in ad¬
vancing knowledge, ib.—estimate of
LEI—LEN
his character by Bailly, 262—great
variety of subjects on which he wrote,
ib.—his controversy with Dr Clarke,
139—on space and time, 142—small
progress of his tenets in France, 186
—contrast between the form of his
writings and the character of his
mind, 337—favourite maxim of, ib.—
his ethical principles where to be
found, ib.—citations from, on ethics,
337, 422—on disinterested affection,
338—egregious fallacy contained in a
statement of, 338-9—his correspond¬
ence with Newton on geometry, 520—
was the second inventor of the new in¬
finitesimal analysis, ib.; IX. 632—rapid
spread of his geometry on the Conti¬
nent, I. 520—controversy relative to
the new calculus, 521; XIV. 318, 321
—his rejection of the higher powers
of the differences of the variable quan¬
tities objectionable, I. 526—compari¬
son between him and Newton, 571—
his algebraical discoveries, 595—a
great promoter of the Berlin Academy
of Sciences, II. 71—an algebraic dis¬
covery of James Gregory claimed by,
497—hydrostatical fancy of, IV. 395
— his classification of books, 631 —
inactivity of matter denied by, VIII.
350—on the laws of motion, 361, 364,
366 — his envious detraction of Sir
Isaac Newton, 377—on the measure of
active forces, XIV. 353—on music,
XV. 605—on the force and velocity
of moving bodies,!. 539; XVIII. 779—
on the strength of materials, XX. 763.
Leicester, XIII. 208—navigation, XVI.
15—Meiton-Mowbray navigation, 21.
Leicestershire, XIII. 209—sheep, II.
263, 328—cattle, 322—Northampton¬
shire Union Canal, XVI. 15.
Leigh, XIII. 210.
Leighlin, Irish town, XIII. 210.
Leighs (Lough), VI. 256.
Leignitz, battle of, XVIII. 679.
Leighton (Robert), XIII. 210.
Leighton-Buzzard, XIII. 217.
Leinster, in Ireland, XIII. 217.
Leiodes, insects, IX. 165.
Leipa, Austrian city, XIII. 217.
Leipzig, XIII. 217—botanical school of,
V. 80—fairs of, IX. 477; X. 487 ;
XIX. 670—battles of, X. 164 ; XXI.
19—taken by Tilly, 18.
Leistus, insect, IX. 132.
Leith, XIII. 217—Water of, VIII. 429.
Leitomischel, Austrian city, XIII. 221.
Leitrim, Irish county, XIII. 221.
Leixlip, Irish town, XIII. 224.
Leland (John), antiquary, XIII. 224.
 (John), divine, XIII. 224.
Lelegeis, XIII. 225.
Leleges, people of Asia, XIII. 225.
Lely (Sir Peter), painter, XIII. 225.
Leman (Lake). See Geneva.
Lemberg, in Austria, XIII. 225.
Lemery (Nicholas), chemist, XIII. 225
—on ice, XII. 140.
Lemgo, German city, XIII. 225.
Lemma, XIII. 226 ; X. 433.
Lemming, in zoology, XIV. 135.
Lemnephilus, a fly, its use in angling,
III. 135.
Lemnian Earth, XIII. 226.
Lemnius (Lavinus), XIII. 226.
Lemnos, island, XIII. 226.
Lemon, XI. 659—alkali in, VI. 469—
scurvy cured by juice of, XVI. 54.
 Island, XIII. 226.
Lemon-tree, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Lemonade, XIII. 226.
Lemonnier (P. C. C.), XIII. 226—his
astronomical labours, III. 746—on the
electricity of the air, VIII. 614.
Lempa, river, XI. 17.
Lemur, in zoology, XIV. 97—its arte¬
ries, III. 39.
Lemures, XIII. 228.
Lemuria, Roman feast, XIII. 228.
Lemuridse, in zoology, XIV. 96.
Lena, river, XIII. 228; XIX. 586.
Len.ra, Greek festival, XIII. 228.
LEN—LEP
Lendinara, Italian town, XIII. 228.
Lending-houses, XIII. 228.
Lenfant (James), XIII. 228.
Lenglet (N. du Fresnoy), XIII. 229.
Length, XIII. 229.
Lengthening of ships, XIII. 229.
Lenham, town in Kent, XIII. 229.
Lennep, Prussian city, XIII. 229.
Lenkeroon, Persian port, XIII. 229.
Lennox. See Dumbartonshire.
  (earl of), regent of Scotland,
XIX. 741.
 Island, XII. 592.
Lens, XIII. 229—crystalline, II. 799 ;
III. 22; XV. 56; XVI. 368 ; XII.
28—burning, V. 725, 737; XI. 195
— for microscopes, XV. 29, et seq.
—different kinds of, XVI. 387—re¬
fraction by, 390—formation of images
by, and vision of objects through, 394
magnifying power of, 395—spherical
aberration of, 395—non-spherical, 398
—doubly refracting, 456—lenses for
lighthouses, XX. 21—of telescopes,
XXI. 169.
Lent, festival, XlII. 229.
Lentibularke, in botany, V. 124.
Lenticular spar, crystallization of, VII.
512, 515.
Lenticulina, mollusca, XV. 345.
Lentini, Sicilian city, XIII. 230.
Lentulus (Publius),his alleged letter to
the Roman senate, XII. 564.
Leo X. (Pope), XIII. 230—sale of. in¬
dulgences by, XII. 269 — Roscoe’s
Life of, XIX. 474.
  Isauricus, his edict against
image-worship, XIII. 466.
  of Modena, his Hebrew Bible,
IV. 614.
 Juda, his Latin Bible, IV. 615.
Leobshutz, Prussian city, XIII. 231.
Leoben, Austrian city, XIII. 231.
Leominster, town in Herefordshire,
XIII, 231—canal, XVI. 15.
Leon (Peter Ciega de), XIII. 232.
 , geometer, X. 424.
 — of Salamis, XX. 454.
 -, in Spain, XIII. 231-2—Moorish
kingdom of, XX. 494.
 , in Nicaragua, XVI. 201.
Leonard (St), French city, XIII. 232.
Leonardo Da Vinci. See Vinci.
• of Pisa, algebra introduced into
Europe by, I. 440 ; II. 421; X. 429,
Leonessa, Neapolitan city, XIII. 232.
Leonidas, king of Sparta, XIII. 232 ;
VI. 736 ; XX. 525.
Leonine, in poetry, XIII. 232.
Leontica, ancient feasts, XIII. 232.
Leontini, XXL 55.
Leontium, IV. 156.
Leopard, XIV. 121.
Leopold, king of the Belgians, XVI. 139.
 III., Duke of Austria, XXI. 43.
Leopoldine Academy, II. 68.
Leopontine Alps, II. 558.
Lepadogaster, fish, XIL 221.
Lepanto, Turkish town, XIII. 232—
battle of, XXI. 412.
Lepas, in conchology, XV. 340.
Leper’s Island, XIII. 232.
Lepidolite, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Lepidoptera, XIII. 232 ; IX. 60, 237.
Lepidopus, fish, XII. 183.
Lepidosteus, fish, XII. 216.
Lepidura prolongata, VII. 503.
Lepidus, XIX. 394, 398.
Lepisma, insect, IX. 295.
Lepismense, insects, IX. 294.
Leposternon, serpent, XX. 123.
Leprosy, XIII. 232 — in Arabia, III.
336—in Demarara, VII. 707.
Leptides, insects, IX. 266.
Leptidium, in botany, V. 64.
Leptines, VI. 185.
Leptis, insect, IX. 266.
   Magna, II. 236.
Leptocephalus, fish, XIL 226.
Leptocera, insects, IX. 179.
Leptogaster, insect, IX. 269.
Leptopus,insect, IX. 197.
Leptosomus, bird, XVI. 593.
92
INDE X,
LEP—LEU
Leptospermeas, in botany, V. 110.
Leptom, ancient coin, XIII. 232.
Leptura, insect, IX. 180.
Lepturetse, insects, IX. 180.
Leptus, genus of arachnides, III. 3G9.
Lepus, constellation, XIII. 232.
 , in zoology, XIV. 139.
Lebida, Spanish city, XIII. 232.
Lerma, in Mexico, XIV. 811.
Lerot, in zoology, XIV. 132—its hyber¬
nation, III. 167.
Lerwick, in Zetland, XIII. 232.
Le Sage. See Sage (Le).
Lesbos, island, XIII. 233.
Lescaille (James), XIII. 233.
Lesosne, V. 206.
Lesghistan, in Asia, XIII. 233.
Leskard. See Liskeard.
Lesley (John), bishop, XIII. 233.
Leslie (Charles), XIII. 210.
 (General), V. 316, 326, et seq.
' — (Sib John), XIII. 212—on sound,
II. 117—on the speaking-trumpet, 119
—on Hindu algebra, 126—on the hy-
drostatical knowledge of the Romans,
III. 320—on the moon’s light, IV. 3
—his atmometer, 131—on solar heat,
V. 726—on capillary action, VI. 113
—his photometer, 757 ; XIII. 335—
on the cold produced by evaporation,
VII. 60—his method of artificial con¬
gelation, 62 ; XI. 191—on dew, VII.
750, 751—on heat, XI. 183—his Go¬
niometer, XII. 21—on percussion,
XIV. 390—on the maximum effect of
machines, 391—on the hygroscope,
727 — his hygrometer, 731: XVII.
533 —on the interior of the earth,
499 —his differential thermometer,
XXI. 239.
Lesnaia Reka, river, XIII. 252.
Lesparbe, in France, XIII. 252.
Lessina, island, XIII. 252.
Lessines, a city in the Netherlands,
XIII. 252.
Lessing, XIX. 682—plays of, VIII. 177
—poetry of, XVIII. 167.
Lessor, island, XIII. 252.
Lesson (M.) on birds, XVI. 552, 586.
Lessons, in church-service, XIII. 252.
Lesteva, insect, IX. 138.
L’Estrange (Sir Roger), XIII. 252.
Lestris, bird, XVI. 633.
Lesueur, a blind man, IV. 701.
Letchlade, XIII. 252.
Lethargy, disease, XIII. 252.
Lethe, river in hell, XIII. 252.
Lethrus, insect, IX. 151.
Leti (Gregorio), XIII. 252.
Letronne on the use of. canvass by the
ancient painters, XVI. 699, n.
Letter, XIII. 253-1—of* Attorney, ib.
Letters-Patent, XIII. 251.
Letter-writing, XIII. 254 ; XVIII. 397.
Letter-weighing machines, XXI. 839.
Letters, revival of, I. 11; VII. 195.
Lettitschew, in Russia, XIII. 251.
Lettou (John), printer, XVIII. 553.
Lettuce, culture of, XI. 674—evolution
of, III. 80—juice of, XII. 628—useful
for feeding silk-worms, XX. 351.
Leuca, ancient measure, XIII. 251.
Leucadia, island, XII. 311.
Leucata, promontory, XIII. 251.
Leucippus, philosopher, XIII. 255.
Leuciscus, fish, XII. 198—angling for,
III. 117.
Leucite, a mineral, II. 659 ; XV. 150-
specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Leucoma, XIII. 255.
Leucopetrians, sect, XIII. 255.
Leucophra, animalcules, III. 189.
Leucopis, insect, IX. 291.
Leucothoe, XIII. 255.
Leucothyreus, insect, IX. 158.
Leuctra, in Boeotia, XIII. 255—battle
of, III. 588 ; XX. 527 ; XXI. 196.
Leucus, VII. 161.
Leopold (Jacob), on hydraulics. XVIII.
" 716—description of his high-pressure
steam-apparatus for raising weights,
&c.j XX. 615.
Leusden (John), XIII. 255.
LEU—LIB
Leuthen, battle of, XVIII. 675; XXI.
718.
Leutmeritz, in Bohemia, XIII. 255.
Leutschau, in Hungary, XIII. 255.
Leuwenhoeck. See Leeuwenhoeck.
Leuze, in the Netherlands, XIII. 256.
Levanso, island, XIII. 256.
Levant, XIII. 256—trade of England
with the, VIII. 779—plague of the,
XVII. 772.
 Company, VII. 182.
Level, instrument, XIII. 257.
Levellers, V. 331; XII. 382.
Levelling, XIII. 259—machine for
levelling land, II. 355.
Levelling-Staves, XIII. 262.
Leven, river in Dumbartonshire, VIII.
258—river in Fife, IX. 513.
 Canal, XVI. 15.
 (Loch), XII. 730; XIX. 710,748.
 , village in Fife, XIII. 263.
Lever, XIII. 263; XIV. 349, 356—dis¬
covery of a new property of the, by
iEpinus, II. 175.
Lever-watches, VI. 795.
Leveret, young hare, XIII. 263.
Levigation, in pharmacy, XIII. 263.
Levirostres, structure of, XVII. 712.
Levite, XIII. 263; XV. 567.
Leviticus, XIII. 263.
Levroux, French town, XIII. 263.
Lewes, in Sussex, XIII. 263.
Lewis, island, XIII. 263.,
  ■, an instrument used in building,
XIII. 261 ; XIV. 458.
 (Dr), on ink-making, XII. 277.
 (M. G.),novelist, XIX. 344.
> kings of France. See Louis.
Lewisham, in Kent, XIII. 265.
Lex talionjs in Arabia, III. 334.
Lexiarchi, XIII. 265.
Lexicon, XIII. 265. See Dictionary.
Lexington, skirmish at, V. 402.
 , in Kentucky, XII. 698.
Ley (Dr Hugh),-on affections of the re¬
spiration, XVII. 181.
Leyden, Dutch city, XIII. 265—uni¬
versity library, 311.
 Isle, XIII. 265.
 Jar, I. 618 ; VIII. 568, 618, 650.
 (John), XIII. 265—on the Asia¬
tic languages, 80, et seq.
 (Lucus Von), XVI. 721,
Leyria, in Portugal, XIII. 268.
Leyta, island, XIII. 268.
Leyton (Low), in Essex, XIII. 268.
Lezoux, French city, XIII. 268.
Lhuyd (Edward), XIII. 268—his attack
on Boyce, V. 160—his correspondence
with Wodrow, XXI. 910.
 (Humphrey), XIII. 268.
Liancourt, in France, XIII. 269.
Libanius, rhetorician, XIII. 269.
Libanomantia, XIII. 269.
Libanus. See Lebanon.
Libation, XIII. 269.
Libavius (Andrew), VI. 317.
Libel, XIII. 269—law of, V. 393.
Libella, Roman money, XIII. 269.
Libelli, Roman bills, XIII. 269.
Libellula, insect, IX. 209—lives after
decapitation, III. 161.
Liber, V. 33; XXI. 576.
Libera, goddess, XIII. 270.
Liberal arts, XIII. 270.
Liberalia, Roman feasts, XIII. 270.
Liberia, XIII. 270, 271.
Libertines, XIII. 271.
Libertus, freedman, XIII. 271.
Liberty, or Freedom, XIII. 271, 171—
Barbour’s encomium of, IV. 370—
promoted by the Crusades, VII. 492;
and by commerce, IX. 410—the Eco¬
nomists on, VIII. 101—Locke on,
XIII. 109—love of, XV. 477—reli¬
gious, not accorded in ancient Greece,
XX. 117.
   , goddess, XIII. 285.
  op the Press, XIII. 272—in
China, VI. 567—Locke on, XIII. 413
Milton on, XV. 94—-does not exist
in Russia, XIX. 584.
   of the will. See Will.
LIB—LIF
Libes (Mons.), on electricity produced
by pressure, VIII. 600.
Libitina, goddess, XIII. 285.
Libitinarii, XIII. 285.
Libius Severus, emperor, XIX. 423.
Libna, city of Judah, XIII. 285.
Libourne, in France, XIII. 285.
Libra, XIII. 285—Pensa, ib.
Librarii, copyists, XIII. 285.
Libraries, XIII. 285—Alexandrian,II.
410, 411; XIV. 315—Bodleian, XVI.
f>85—Radcliffe, ib.—of Buenos Ayres,
V. 655—Constantinople, XXI. 426—
Denmark, VII. 730—Dublin, VIII.
216 — Edinburgh, 419, 124 — Ger¬
many, X. 487—classification of books
in, IV. 631—books deliverable to cer¬
tain libraries by the copyright-act,
VIII. 313. See Palimpsest.
Libration of moon, XIII. 318 ; IV. 1.
Libri (M.), on the effect of electricity on
odoriferous bodies, VIII. 636.
Liburnia, in Illyrieum, XIII. 318.
Liburnus, mountain, XIII. 318.
Libya, XIII. 318, 604—invaded by Aga-
thocles, VI. 188—Lybian war, 193.
Libythia, insect, IX. 242.
Lice, IX. 295—destruction of, XII. 293,
294 ; XXL 603—on the domestic
animals, 637.
License, in law, XIII. 318.
Licenser of Books, XIII. 318; VI. 279;
IV. 628—in Russia, XIX. 584.
Licentiate, XIII. 318.
Licetus, physician, XIII. 318.
Lichens, in botany, V. 39, 139—repro¬
ductive organs of, 57—colouring mat¬
ter of, VI. 481—lichen-starch, 176.
Lichenstein on the giraffe, XIV. 161.
Lichfield. See Litchfield.
Lichia, fish, XII. 186.
Lichtenberg, XIII. 319.
Lichtenberg’s electrical figures, account
of, VIII. 641.
Lichtenberger (Prof.) on the origin of
printing, IV. 623.
Lichtenstein, XIII. 319.
 (Dr), his visit to Lattakoo, V. 22.
Lichtervelde, XIII. 319.
Licinian law, XIX. 381.
Licinius, emperor, XIX. 115 ; VI. 735.
 Stolo, XIII. 319.
Licinus, insect, IX. 182.
Licnon, XIII. 319.
Licnophori, XIII. 319.
Licodia, Sicilian city, XIII. 319.
Licola, Italian lake, XIII. 319.
Lictors, Roman officers, XIII. 319.
Liddel (Duncan), XIII. 319.
 , river, XIX. 511.
Liddon’s arctic voyage, XVIII. 220.
Lie, XIII. 319.
Liebau, IV. 330.
Lieberkuhn on villi of the ileum, II. 815
—his solar microscope, XV. 41.
Liebig on the food of plants, XXI. 579.
Liefkenshoek, XIII. 320.
Liege, XIII. 320.
Liegnitz, in Prussia, XIH. 320.
Lieou-Kieou. See Loo-Choo.
Lier, or Lierre, XIII. 321.
Liesganig, his measures of a meridional
degree, IX. 549.
Lieutaud (Joseph) XIII. 321 ; II. 702.
Lieutenant, XIII. 321—Lord-Lieuten¬
ants, ib. --Naval, ib.; XVI. 52.
Lievens (John), painter, XIII. 321.
Lievrite,-a mineral, XV. 163.
Life, XIII. 321 ; II. 681—tenacity of,
among insects and other animals, III.
163—case of supposed confusion of
animal and vegetable life in animal¬
cules, 187, 191—length of, before the
flood, 246—Aristotle on, 506—Bar-
thez on, IV. 120—instances of longe¬
vity, XIII. 555—duration of, XIV.
208, 193—expectation of, XV. 560 ;
XVIII. 420,421—living beings, XVII.
130—vital functions, ib.—vital affinity,
137 — organic phenomena, XVII.
577—vital principle, 578, 594_vital
powers of plants, XXI. 586 — life
seemingly restored by galvanism, 681.
LIF—LIM
See Physiology, Death, Mortality, An¬
nuities, Probability.
Life-Assurance, III. 202, 217 ; XII. 310.
See Annuities.
Life-boat, XIII. 327.
Life-Guards, British, III. 620.
Life-Preservers, XIII. 321.
Liffey, Irish river, VIII. 237 — its na¬
vigation, XVI. 22.
Lifford, VIII. 111.
Ligaments, structure and properties of,
II. 739—yellow or elastic, 740, 760.
Ligamentous structures of the body
XVII. 602, 605, 615.
Ligature, XIII. 328.
Light, XIII. 329 ; XVI. 377, et seq.—
Aristotle’s definition of, 1.505—aberra¬
tion of, II. 31; III. 744, 774—its effects
upon plants, 68 ; XVII. 517 ; XXI.
575,577, 584, 585, 587—zodiacal, III.
784 moon’s, IV. 3—successive pro¬
pagation of, 36—nature of, VI. 616-
amount of solar, at different latitudes,
VI. 747, 748—heat is only light in a
latent form, 756—electrical, VIII.
583-4 ; XXI. 677—loved by infants,
XII. 303—of the sun and sky, XIV.
739 — alternately attracted and re¬
pelled by bodies, XX. 752—Mosaic ac¬
count of its creation, XXI. 207—in¬
stantaneous light apparatus, 679-
light and shade in drawing, VIII. 183.
See Aurora Borealis, Chromatics,
Colour, Gas-Lighting, Lighting, Lu-
cimeter, Optics, Phosphorescent Bo¬
dies, Photometer, Polarisation.
Light’s travels in Nubia, VIII. 557.
Light-Horse, cavalier, XIII. 313.
Lighthouse, XIII. 313; XX. 15—
lamps for, XIII. 41—at the mouth
of the Thames, 493. See Sea-lights.
Light-room, in ships, XIII. 343.
Lighter, vessel, XIII. 313.
Lightfoot (John), English theologian,
XIII. 343.
Lightfoot’s Flora Scotica, V. 85.
Lighting of streets, XIII. 314. See
Gas-lighting.
Lightning, XIII. 345 ; XVII. 512-
electrical nature of, 1.619; VI. 253;
VIII. 569—rapidity of, II. 119—Ste¬
phen Gray on, VIII. 568—transport
of ponderable substances by, 620-
sheet or summer lightning, 622 
killing by, 638—conductors of, 616—
theory of, XII. 135 —death from,
XIV. 499—why most common and vi¬
vid in warm latitudes, XVII. 535.
Ligneous texture of plants, Ilk 61.
Lignin, VI. 479.
Lignum vitae, sp. gr. of, XII. 32.
Ligny, battle of, V. 510.
Ligula, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Ligulated, or ligulate, in botanv,
XIII. 345 ; V. 42.
Liguria, in Italy, XIII. 345.
Lilac, XVII. 789—dyeing of lilac-colour,
VIII. 335. 312.
Lilburne (John), XIII. 345.
Liliaceous plants, XIII. 345 ; V. 135.
Lilius, reform of calendar by, VI. 10.
Lille, XIII. 377—siege of, X. 70.
Lillo (George), XIII. 345—dramatic
works of, VIII. 174-5 ; XVIII. 115.
Lilly (John), poet, XIII. 345.
 (William), XIII. 315 ; IX. 11.
Lily, culture of the, XI. 683.
Lilyb/eum, XIII. 346 ; XV. 703.
Lilye (Wm.), grammarian, XIII. 346.
Lima, XIII. 316—coinage at, XV. 265
—university of, XVII. 307.
 , in conchology, XV. 343.
Limacina, mollusca, XV. 355.
Limacodes, insects, IX. 248.
Limassol, town in Cyprus, XIII. 317.
Limax, molluseum, XV. 357.
Limbs, XIII. 317 ; XVII. 615.
Limbat, a wind in Cyprus, XIII. 347.
Limber-strake of a ship, XX. 284.
Limborch (Philip), XIII. 317.
Limburg, XIII. 318.
Lime, its use as a manure, II. 300 ;
VIII. 261; in mortar, V. 664 $ XIV.
INDEX
93
L1M—LIN
288; in purifying gas, X. 351—crys¬
tallized and stalactitic carbonates of,
V. 786, 787—chemical properties of,
VI. 396—salts of, 447—saccharate of,
472 — pyro-electricity of oxalate of,
598—phosphorescent effects of elec¬
tricity on calcareous substances, VIII.
633—sp. gr. of hyposulphite of, XII.
31—poisonous quality of, XIV. 502—
carbonate of; see Iceland-spar, Lime¬
stone, Marble.
Limerick, Irish county, XIII. 348.
  —, town, XIII. 350—siege of, in
1691, V. 364 ; XII. 377—treaty of,
378; V. 364—navigation, XVI. 22.
Limestone, XV. 141, 190 — used in
smelting iron, VI. 402—specific gra¬
vity of, XII. 32—magnesian, XV. 200,
201; XXI. 180—much of it produced
by animalcules, 1021—of Derbyshire,
Vil .735; Edinburghshire, VIII. 429 ;
Russia, XIX. 566; Scotland, 749. See
the geographical articles generally.
Lime-tree, XI. 659 ; XVII. 784—its use
in joinery, XII. 618.
Limigantes, VII. 275, 276.
Limit, in mathematics, &e., XIII. 350.
Limited Problem, XIII. 350.
Limitrophic organs, II. 814 ; III. 32.
Limnea, in conchology, XV. 348, 358.
Limnebius, insect, IX. 151.
Limning, XIII. 350.
Limnobia, insect, IX. 260.
Limnochares, arachnides, III. 369.
Limnoria terebrans, VII. 502.
LImoges, in France, XIII. 350.
Limosa, birds, XVI. 623.
Limoux, in Franoe, XIII. 350.
Limpet, XV. 373.
Lin acre (Tho.), physician, XIII. 350.
Linant (Monsieur), his voyage on the
Nile, XVI. 226.
Linares, Mexican town, XIV. 818.
Linari on thermo-electricity, XXI. 699.
Linaria, bird, XVI. 581.
Lincei, Academy of, II. 69.
Lincoln, English city, XIII. 351—ca¬
thedral of, III. 474.
Lincolnshire, XIII. 351—sheep, II.
328—iron-bridges, V. 279—embank¬
ments, VIII, 676, 680—fisheries, IX.
602—duck-catching, XVI. 638.
Lincoln's Inn, XII. 282 ; XIII. 527.
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, XIII. 545.
Lind (Dr James), his anemometer, XVII.
538 ; XVIII. 113.
Linden-wood, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Lindesfarn, XI. 535; XVI. 253.
Lindley (Mr), on the utility of a Species
Ptantarum, V. 91—his classification
of plants, 93.
Lindo, XIII. 358.
Lindsay (Sir David), XIII. 353 ; VI. 94
—Chalmers’s edition of, 309—his Sa¬
tire of the Three Estates, VIII. 154.
Lindsey, in Lincolnshire, XIII. 358.
Lindds, town in Rhodes, XIII. 358.
Line,in geometry, XIII. 359; X. 431-2.
 , in war, XIII. 359.
 OF BATTLE, XIII. 359; XXI.
755.
 —, Horizontal—Equinoctial—Me¬
ridian Ship of the—Genealogical,
XIII. 859.
Lines, in heraldry, XIII. 359 ; XI. 245.
Einese, in botany, V. 103.
Lineament, in painting, XIII. 359.
Linear Numbers, XIII. 359.
 Problem, XIII. 359.
Linen, XIII. 359—bleaching of, IV.
678, 688—its loss of weight in bleach¬
ing, 689—calendering of, VI. 20-
dyes worse than silk and wool, VIII.
298—method of dyeing it red, 316;
yellow, 323; blue, 327 ; black, 330 ;
green, 333; violet, 336; orange, 337;
mixtures of black, &c., 338—imports
of, into the United Kingdom, 783—
fossil, XIII. 362.
Linen-Manufacture of Antrim, III. 275;
Armagh, 573 ; Dunfermline, VIII.
282; England, 776 ; Fife, IX. 544;
Trance, X. 181; Germany, 489; Ire-
LIN-LIS
land, XII. 403 ; Scotland, XIX. 768 ;
Tipperary, XXI. 315 ; Tyrone, 440 ;
Wilrtemberg, 946.
Ling, fish, XII. 218.
Ling-fishery, Scotch, IX. 600.
Lingam, V. 176.
Lingard (Dr), on the character of Crom¬
well, V. 339—on the Restoration, 341
— on the great Plague in London,
345—on a part of king Edgar’s his¬
tory, VIII. 705, n.—on the massacre
of St Bartholomew, X. 33 n.—on the
influence of Wycliffe’s biblical labours, •
XXL 951.
Lingen, Hanoverian city, XIII. 362.
Lingual bone, in man, II. 781.
Lingula, in conchology, XV. 349, 365.
Linkoping, in Sweden, XIII. 362.
Linlithgow, Scotch burgh, XIII. 362.
Linlithgowshire, XIII. 362.
Linnaean Society of London, V. 85—
Linnman school in France, 86, 91.
Linn/EUS (Sir Charles), XIII. 364—his
character as a natural historian, II.
112—on the manufacture of sal-am¬
moniac, 661—his classification of ani¬
mals, III. 169, 171; of the mamma¬
lia, XIV. 78—on ants, III. 239 ; the
Crustacea, VII. 500 ; fishes, XII. 152 ;
the mollusca, XV. 329, 336 ; birds,
XVI. 546—his botanical nomencla¬
ture and system, V. 58, 72—botani¬
cal labours of his son, 78—his mu¬
seum and library, 85—his admirable
style, ib.--his description of himself,
XIV. 78.
Linnet, XVI. 581.
Linois (Admiral), V. 519, 522.
Linosa, island, XIII. 368.
Lint, in surgery. XIII. 368. See Flax,
Hemp, Linen.
Linton, in Cambridgeshire, XIII. 368.
Lintstock, military staff, XIII. 368.
Lines, ancient poet, XIII. 368.
— — (Father), his opposition to Pas¬
cal, IV. 387.
Linyphia, arachnides, III. 360.
Linz, XIII. 368.
Lion, XIV. 121—of Africa, II. 228 ;
Asia, III. 682; Hindustan, XI. 382
—its structure, XVII. 704--less cou-
lageous than the dog, XX. 310—lion¬
shooting, 302.
 , in heraldry, XI. 253.
Lion-ant, IX. 212.
Lion’s Inn, Chancery,'XII. 282.
Lioncelles, in heraldry, XIII. 868.
Liorhynchus, zoophyte, XXL 997.
Liotard, Swiss painter, XIII. 368.
Lipara, insect, IX. 288.
Lipari Islands, XIII. 369.
Liparis, fish, XII. 222.
Lipa' ites, VII. 283.
Liparus, insect, IX. 17S.
Lipenius, bibliographical dictionaries of,
IV. 630.
Lipes, in Bolivia, XIII. 370.
Lipezk, in Russia, XIII. 370.
Lippa, Hungarian town, X’ll. 370.
Lippe, German city XIII. 370.
Lippe-Detmold, principality in Ger¬
many, XIII. 371.
Lippersheim (John), the alleged inven¬
tor of the telescope, XVI. 354.
Lippi (Lorenzo), painter, XIII. 371.
 (Professor), of Florence, on the
lymphatics, II. 729.
Lippstadt, Prussian city, XIII. 371.
Lips, XVII. 663—muscles of the, II.
794—anatomy of the, 802.
Lipsids (Justus), XIII 371.
Liquefaction, XIII. 375; XI. 189.
Liquid, XIII. 375. See Fluid.
Liquidambar tree, XVII. 790.
Liquor, XIII. 375.
Liquorice, specific gravity of juice of,
XII. 31—culture of, at Tortosa, XXI.
340.
Liquorice-sugar, VI. 474.
Lirell®, in botany, V. 57.
Liriconite, a mineral, XV. 145.
Lis (John Vander), painter, XIII. 375.
 (John V.), of Breda, XIII. 375.
LIS—LIV
Lisbon, XIII. 375—Geographical Aca¬
demy of, II. 68—Royal Academies of
Sciences and Portuguese History, 73,
75—earthquake at, X. 598; XVII.
511; XVIII. 471—schools at, 481.
Lisburn, Irish town, XIII. 377.
Lisdownvarna, in Clare, chalybeate
spring of, VI. 725.
Lisieux, in France, XIII. 377.
Liskeard, XIII. 233 — Liskeard and
Lose Canal, XVI. 15.
Lisle, XIII. 377—siege of, X. 70.
 (Joseph N. De), XIII. 377.
Lismore, XIII. 378.
Lispe, insect, IX. 284.
Lissa, island, XIII. 378.
 , Prussian city, XIII. 378
 —, insect, IX. 286.
Lissonotus, insect, IX. 178.
List, XIII. 379—Civil, ib.
Lister (Martin), XIII. 379 — on the
habits of spiders, III. 356—on con¬
chology, XV. 331.
 (Mr), on the small ascidia, XV.
368—on the structure of the muscles,
XVII. 609.
 (J.), on the microscope, XV. 39.
Liston (Rev. Henry), his enharmonic
organ, XVI. 533.
•  (Mr), on surgical instruments
and surgery, XX. 831, et seq.
Litany, XIII. 379.
Litchfield, English city, XIII. 379—
 , in Connecticut, XIII. 379.
Literary, XIII. 379—diseases of lite¬
rary men, XIV. 509 —literary pro¬
perty ; see Copyright.,
Literati in China, XIII. 379.
Literature encouraged in China, VI. 567.
See Belles Lettres, Letters.
Litharge, XIII. 380 ; VI. 411.
I-ithgow (William), XIII. 380.
Lithia, VI. 395—salts of, 446.
Lithium, VI. 395.
Lithobius, insect, XV. 654.
Lithographic ink, XII. 280.
Lithography, XIII. 380.
Lithomantia, XIII. 386.
Lithomarge, in mineralogy, XV. 14 8—
specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Lithontriptics, XIII. 386.
Lithophytes, zoophytes, XXI. 1024.
Lithosia, insect, IX. 248.
Lithostroton. XIII. 386.
Lithotomy, XIII. 886 ; II. 703—an¬
cient, XX. 822, 825—modern, 823,
829, 831—operation of, 841—on the
horse, XXI. 628.
Llthotrity, XX. 841—an ancient opera¬
tion, 822.
Lithuania, a Polish province, XIII.
386—language of, 89.
Lithurgus, insect, IX. 233.
Litina, in Russia, XIII. 386.
Litmus, XIII. 387; VI. 484.
Litter, XIII. 387.
Little (Andrew), XXL 171, n. 2.
Littleton (Sir Thomas), XIII. 387.
   (Adam), XIII. 387.
Littorina, in conchology, XV. 347.
Lituola. in conchology, XV. 345.
Liturgy, XIII. 387.
Lituus, XIII. 387.
Livadia, Turkish town, XIII. 387.
Live-Stock, improvement of by Bake-
well, II. 263, 322—turnip-feeding of,
287—management of, 316. See Cattle,
Sheep, Pigs, &c.
Liver, II. 817-—worms in the, III. 162;
XXI. 991—diseases of the, XVII.
479, 482—its relations to the stomach,
491—circulation of blood in the, 650
— its excretory functions, 655 — of
brutes, 702, et seq.—its diseases in
the domestic animals, XXI. 627.
Liverpool, XIII. 388, 53—effect of the
cotton-manufacture on, VII. 413—Dr
Currie’s residence in, 554—docks of,
VIII. 75—scouring of these, 194—ca¬
nal to Leeds, XVI. 15—railway to
Manchester, XIX. 23, et seq.—tide-
tables, XXI. 284.
 , in Nova Scotia, XVI. 286.
LIV—LOG
Liverpool (Lord). See Jenkinson.
Livery, XIII. 4 00.
Liverymen of London, XIII. 400.
Livia, XIX. 401—insect, IX. 205.
Livings in English Church, VIII. 788-9.
Livius Andronicus, XIII. 401; VIII.
151—poetry of, XVIII. 153.
 (Titus),or Livy, XIII. 400—his
Roman History, III. 263, 265; XVI.
212, 764—his character as a histori¬
an, VI. 710—peculiarity of his style,
XVII. 120.
Livonia, XIII. 401—interest of money
in, XII. 323—language of, XIII. 90.
Livonica Terra, XIII. 401.
Livorno, in Piedmont, XIII. 401.
Livre (French), XIII. 402; XV. 398.
Livron (Marquis of), VIII. 502.
Liwny, in Russia, XIII. 402.
Lixivious, XIII. 402.
Lixivium, in pharmacy, XIII. 402.
Lixuri, in Cephalonia, XII. 341.
Lixus, insect, IX. 174.
Lizard Cape, XIII. 402.
Lizards, XIX. 138—their bones. III. 13,
et seq.—structure, XVII. 713.
Ljubim, in Russia, XIII. 402.
Llama, XIV. 157; IV. 747.
Llanbadarn Fawr, XIII. 402.
Llanbeblick, in Wales, XIII. 402.
Llanbeder, Welsh town, XIII. 402.
Llandaff, Welsh city, XIII. 402.
Llandillo-Vawr, XIII. 402.
Llandovery, Welsh town, XIII. 402,
Llanelly, XIII. 402 ; V. 771.
Llangaddouk. XHI. 402.
Llangollen, Welsh town, XIII. 402—
aqueduct at, III. 322.
Llanos (San Juan de Los), XIII. 402-3.
 of South America, II. 607; XVII.
501.
Llan-Rhaidar-yn-Mochnant, in Den¬
bighshire, XIII. 403.
Llantrissant, XIII. 403.
Llanvilling, XIII. 403.
Llanydloes, XIII. 403.
Llaugharne, V. 771.
Llobregat, river, VI. 239.
Llorente on the Spanish Inquisition,
XII. 286, et seq.
Lloyd (William), bishop, XIII. 403.
 (Prof.), on the dip of the needle,
&c., XIII. 769—on optics, XVI. 375,
427,433, 484, 507.
  (Mr), his account of Panama,
XVI.782, n.—on the capercali of Swe¬
den, XX. 317—on retreats in war,
XXL 753.
Loach, XII. 199—angling for. III. 148.
Load, in mining, XIII. 403.
  of timber. XXI. 297.
Loadstone, or magnet, XIII. 702, 709.
See Magnet.
Loaf, English and French, IV. 296.
Loams, earths, XIII. 403.
Loan, XIII. 403—Mosaic law respect¬
ing, XV. 566. See Funding System.
Loando (St Paul de), XIII. 403. ’
 , island, XIII. 403.
Loango, XIII. 403, 4 94 ; III. 152.
Loasa, in botany-, V. 64.
Lease®, in botany, V. 110.
Lobatto (M.), on mortality in Amster¬
dam, XV. 557.
Lobau, XXL 646.
Lobby, in architecture, XIII. 404.
Lobe, in anatomy, XIII. 404.
Lobelia, culture of, XI. 685.
Lobeliese, in botany, V. 117.
Lobestein, German city, XIII. 404.
Lobipes, bird, XVI. 625.
Lobo (Jerome), Jesuit, XIII. 404—his
travels in Abyssinia, II. 53.
Loboks, fish, XII. 176.
Lobstein on pathology, XVII. 126.
Lobster, VII. 502 ; XVII. 720.
Locality, faculty of, XVII. 464.
Locarno, Swiss town, XIII. 404.
Loccum, German town, XIII. 404.
Lochaber, XIII. 404.
Loches, in France, XIII. 404.
Lochleven, XII. 730; XIX. 748—Queen
Mary in the castle of, 740.
94
INDEX
LOG—LOG
Loclunaben, VIII. 262.
Lochy (Loch), its navigation, XVI. 10.
 , river, XII. 335.
Locks, XIII. 404—ancient, III. 261—
Bramah’s, V. 182—Mr Rutherford’s
application of clock-work to, Vl. 784.
 of guns, XI. 38.
 of canals, XIII. 408 ; XVI. 30 5
XIX. 293-tide-lock, XVI. 32—river-
lock, 34.
Lock-jaw in animals, XXI. 634.
Locke (John), XIII. 408—his division
of objects of knowledge, I. 8, 9—on
distinction between mind and matter,
57—on the varieties of mind, 76—
Warburton’s opinion of his philoso¬
phy, 80—his Essay on Human Under¬
standing, 100, et seq.—his early studies
and pursuits, 101—diligently studied
previous metaphysical writings, 103
— his style, 104 — reception of his
Essay, ib., 105, 106, 249—its influ¬
ence on Crousaz, 106—diffusion ofhis
principles in France, 108, 250—his
constant appeal to reason, an antidote
against the errors involved in some
ofhis conclusions, 108—misinterpre¬
tations of his doctrines, 109, etseq.—
on ideas from sensation and reflection,
110-12 — his use of the term reflec¬
tion, 111, 253—represents sensation
and reflection as distinct sources of
knowledge, 113—disavowed the conclu¬
sion which some drew from his rea¬
sonings, 117—Lord Shaftesbury’s at¬
tack on, 118—his tracts on, Education
and the Conduct of the Understand¬
ing, 119, 121—his letter to Newton,
119—defects of his intellectual cha¬
racter, 120-21—on the intercourse be¬
tween mind and matter, 125—princi¬
pal opponents of, 253—his doctrines
contrasted with those of Leibnitz, 126
—injustice done to him by Leibnitz,
255—on the scale of beings, 136—on
free will, 143—quotation from a let¬
ter of his to Anthony Collins, 264—
effects of his writings in promoting
the cause of education. 269—on the
perception of colour and figure, 166—
on the silver coinage, VII. 37—his
common-place book, 177—on the se¬
quence of ideas, VIII. 435—on enthu¬
siasm, IX. 58—on instinct, XII. 296
—on innate ideas, I. 109, et seq.; XIV.
601—on perception, 605—on memory,
614—on abstract ideas, 623—on power,
635—on personal identity, 680—on
genera and species, XVI. 556 — on
money, XVIII. 266—on the source of
wealth, 273—on idiocy, 773—on the
incidence of taxes, XXI. 97—his de¬
finition of wit, 905.
 (Ur), his thermoscopic galvano¬
meter, XXI. 700.
Lochmine, French town, XIII. 416.
Locle, Swiss town, XIII. 416.
Locomotion, XVII. 580—organs of, II.
759, 792. See Muscles.
Locki, ancient town, XIII. 416.
Locus Geometricus, XIII. 416.
Loculi, in botany, V. 47.
Locust, IX. 192 ; XI. 384—locusts in
Abyssinia, II. 49—Africa, 229—Ara¬
bia, III. 329—Asia, 684—Barbary,
IV. 362-Egypt and Syria, XXI. 603
—-people who feed on, II. 128—their
tenacity of life, III. 163—alleged
showers of, XIX. 60.
Locustse, in botany, V. 40.
Locctius, XIII. 416.
Locutorium, XIII. 416.
Loddon, town in Norfolk, XIII. 416.
Lodeve, in France, XIII. 416.
Lodgement, XIII. 416.
Lodi, Austrian province, XIII. 416—
battle of, X. 100 ; XV. 716.
Lodwic (Monsieur), his plan of a uni¬
versal alphabet, V. 321.
Loeschman’s patent organ, XVI. 533.
Log, Jewish measure, XIII. 416.
 (sine’s), XIII. 416; XV. 747.
 (Perpetual), XIII. 416.
LOG—LON
Log-Line, XIII. 416.
Log-Board, XIII. 416.
Log-Book, XIII. 416.
Loganiacese, in botany, V. 120.
Logan-stone, XX. 736.
Logarithms, XIII. 417—in algebra, II.
470—effect of their invention on the
progress of astronomy, III. 741—in¬
vention of, I. 447 ; XIV. 316 ; XV. 692
—applied to navigation, 748; to trigo¬
nometry, XXI. 374. See Napier.
Logi, VI. 2.
Logic, XIII. 433—rise of, XVII. 561—
wherein different from rhetoric, XIX.
201—account of Plato’s logical me¬
thod, XVIII. 26.
Logist.®, Athenian officers, XIII. 462,
Logographt, XIII. 4 62.
Logrono, Spanish town, XIII. 462—
battle of, XX. 497.
Logwood, VIII. 311; XI. 550; XIV.
817—colouring matter of, VI. 484—
specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Lohenstein, poetry of, XVIII. 167.
Loing, canal of, XVI. 6.
Loins, vertebrae of the, II. 7 61—muscles
of the, 793.
Loire, French river, XIII. 462 ; X. 169
—canal of the, XVI. 5.
 , French department, XIII. 462
—Lower, ib.—Upper, 463.
 and Cher, XIII. 463.
Loiret, in France, XIII. 463.
Loja, Spanish city, XIII. 463.
Loke, XIII. 463.
Lokeren, in Flanders, XIII. 464.
Lokman the Wise, XIII. 464.
Loligo, molluscum, XV. 353.
Lodeards, XIII. 464 ; VIII. 732, 733.
Lollardy, XL 274.
Lollius Urbicus, XIX. 695.
Lombard (Peter), XIII. 464.
Lombard’s hive. III. 283.
Lombard school of painting, XVI. 719.
Lombards, XIII. 464; X. 479—their
invasion of Italy, XII. 465—their
wars with the Roman emperors, VII.
282.
Lombardy, XIII. 469—cotton-manufac¬
ture of, VII. 420—irrigation in, XII.
455, 484—kingdom of, 465.
Lombe (Mr), silk-spinning introduced
into England by, XX. 341.
Lombez, in France, XIII. 484.
Lombrinera, worm, XI. 220.
Lombrose’s Hebrew bible, IV. 614.
Lomechusa, insect, IX. 138.
Lomond (Loch), VIII. 258 ; XVII. 523 ;
XIX. 748—its temperature at diffe¬
rent depths, VI. 749.
Lomonozof, Russian poet, XIII. 484.
Lonchaea, insect, IX. 286.
Lonchoptera, insects, IX. 278.
London, XIII. 485—Royal Academy of
Arts, II. 73—Academies of Music, 74
—repaired by Alfred, 418, n. 2—ar¬
chitecture of St Paul’s Cathedral, III.
429 ; its dome, 388, 389 ; dome-vault¬
ing, 392 ; protection from lightning,
VI. 105; roof, XIX. 440, 441, 454—
architecture of Whitehall, III. 428 ;
of Sir Christopher Wren’s edifices,
428 ; of those of later architects, 429
—architecture and roof of St Paul’s
Church, Covent Garden, 428 ; VI. 169
—roof of St Martin’s in the Fields,
ib.—Somerset House, III. 429—speci¬
mens of pointed architecture, 454—
architecture of public buildings 457,
et seq.—Astronomical Society, 753—
bread,IV. 296, 298, 300—baking, 296,
299, 301 — Corn-Exchange, 302 —
Gresham College, 388 ; X. 776—bo¬
tanical school, V. 83, 84—porter, 252
—brewing, 253—fermenting-house in
Whitbread and Co.’s brewery, 255—
bricks, 259, et seq.—Bridewell, 263—
bridges, 270, et seq., 279, 282—Black-
friars Bridge, III. 387 ; centre for it,
VI. 287, 290—piles of London Bridge,
VIII. 233—Southwark Bridge, XIX.
121—-Waterloo Bridge, 122—New
London Bx-idge, ib.—Great Plague, V,
LON—LOO
344—Great Fire, 345—anti-Catholic
riots, 413 — Rathbone - Place Water,
VI. 261 — Chartreuse, or Charter-
house, 333—the term Cockney, Vtl.
16—the Mint, 32, 38—Doctors’ Com¬
mons, 69 — College of Physicians, ib.
—Sion College, ib.—Foundling Hospi¬
tal, 321—cutlery-manufacture, 566—
dairies, 588—Deaf and Dumb Asylum,
657—docks, VIII. 75—convent of the
Black-friars, 108 — theatres, 178 ;
XVII'I. 49 ; XXL 191—roof of Drury
Lane Theatre, VI. 169 — Egyptian
Society, VIII. 560—port of, 763; V.
271—University, VIII. 789; XXI. 506
—fish-markets, IX. 592, 593, 596—
gas-works, X. 349—Royal Exchange,
776—Guy’s Hospital, XI. 89—Inns
of Court, XII. 281 ; XIII. 527 ; of
Chancery, XII. 282 — street-lamps,
XIII. 45, 345 — librax-ies, 294, et
seq.,—change in the variation of the
needle at, 737—change in the dip of
the needle, 745—mortality, XV. 514 ;
VIII. 800—banking, XVII. 27—Re¬
gent’s Canal, XVI. 17—navigation of"
the Thames, 20—newspapers, 169—
police, XVIII. 249—gambling-houses,
251—prostitutes, ib.—post-office, 490
—Newgate, 585—Trinity House, XX.
28—Royal Society, 434 ; its institu¬
tion, IV. 388 — Inner, Middle, and
Outer 'Temples, XXI. 178—high
water, 284—Thames-tunnel, 403, 407.
LoNDOff (New), XIII. 550; XII. 591.
Londonderry, XIII. 550—siege of, in
1689, V. 363; XII. 376.
 *— (Lord). See Castlereagh.
Long, XIII. 554 ; VIII. 11.
   Boat, XIII. 554 ; IV. 722.
   Benton, XIII. 554.
 Island, XIII. 554 ; XVI. 184.
   (Major); on the cannibalism of
the Potowatomies, II. 621.
 (Roger), XHI. 554.
 primer type, XXL 436.
Long-sightedness, cause and remedy of,
XVI. 513 ; XVII. 671.
Longevity, XIII. 555—fromabstinence,
II. 45. See Life.
Longford, Irish county, XIII. 555.
Longicornes, insects, IX. 177.
Longimetry, XIII. 557.
Longing, appetite, XIII. 557.
Longinico, Turkish town, XIII. 557.
Longinus (Dionysius Cassius), XIII.
557 ; XVI. 776 ; XVII. 406, n. 2.
Longipalpi, insects, IX. 137.
Longipennse, birds, XVI. 631.
Longirostres, birds, XVI. 620.
Longitarsus, insects, IX. 184.
Longitude, XIII. 558 ; X. 404; XV.
752—in astronomy, HI. 759—method
of reducing geocentric to heliocen¬
tric, IV. 19—methods of finding it,
65, 71; X. 400 ; XX. 57; at sea,
XV. 782, 789—Table of length of de¬
grees of, at different latitudes, X. 405
—its effect on temperature, XVII.
543; on plants, 547—calculation of
longitudes in the trigonometrical sur¬
vey, XXL 368—Harrison’s chrono¬
meters, XI. 155.
Longitudinal, XIII. 564.
Longobardi. See Lombards.
Longomontanus (Christian), XIII. 564
—on astronomy, III. 739 — on loga¬
rithms, XIII. 418.
Longtown, in Cumberland, XIII. 565.
Longueruana, II. 676.
Longus, Greek sophist, XIII. 565.
Lonicerete, in botany, V. 115.
Lonigo, Italian city, XIII. 565.
Lons Le Saulnier, XIII. 565.
Lontar Pulo Isle, XIII. 565.
Loo-Choo Islands, XIII. 565—lan¬
guage of the, 92.
Loodanahs, XI. 397.
Looe (East and West), XIII. 565.
Loof, in a ship, XIII. 566.
Look-out, in sea language, XIII. 566.
Lookiang, Burmese river, XIII. 566.
Looking-Glass, XlII. 566. See Mirror.
LOO—LOU
Lool, in metallurgy, XIII. 566.
Loom, XIII. 566; XXI. 824—carpot-
loofn, VI. 173—Indian loom, VII.
395—power-loom, 408 ; X. 558; XXL
830. See Power-Loom.
 , at sea, XIII. 566.
Loonghee, Burmese town, XIII. 567.
Loop, in iron-making, XIII. 567.
Lootf Ali Khan, XVII. 270.
Lop, Asiatic lake, XIII. 567.
Lopez (Dr Don Vicente), V. 660.
Lopez de Vega. See Vega.
Lophius, fish, XII. 194.
Lophobranehii, fishes, XII. 227.
Lophophorus, bird, XVI. 606.
Lophorina, birds, XVI. 588.
Lophosia, insect, IX. 282.
Lophotes, fishes, XII. 189.
 , birds, XVI. 565.
Lophyropa, Crustacea, VII. 503.
Lophyrus, insect, IX. 217.
 , reptile, XIX. 143.
Lopoldstadt, XIII. 225.
Loppen,island, XIII. 112.
Loranthacese, in botany, V. 115.
Lorarii, Roman officers, XIII 567.
Lorca, Spanish city, XIII. 567.
Lord, honorary title, XIII. 567.
Lords (House of), XIII. 567 ; IX. 12;
XVII. 85.
Lord Auckland’s Group, IV. 217.
Lord Howe’s Group, XIII. 567. n
Lordat (Prof.), on the relations of de¬
signing to anatomy, XIV. 518,
Lordosis, spinal disease, XIII. 567.
Lorenzo de Medici. See Medici.
Loretto, in the Papal States, XIII. 567
—Santa Casa at, VI. 209.
 , Neapolitan town, XIII. 56?.
Lorgues, French city, XIII. 568.
Lorica, Roman cuirass, XIII. 568.
Loricaria, fish, XII. 203.
Loricera, insect, IX. 128.
Loriol, French town, XIII. 568
Loris, in zoology, XIV. 97.
Lorius, bird, XVI. 603.
Lorn, in Scotland, XIII. 568.
Lory, bird, XVI. 603.
Losh’s patent rail, XIX. 23.
' Lossiemouth, VIII. 668.
Lostwithiel, Cornish town, XIII. 568
Lot, in France, XIII. 568.
Lot and Garonne, XIII. 568.
Lot, or chance, V. 315.
Lota, fish, XII. 218.
Lothaire, X. 10.
Lothian, XIII. 568. See Edinburgh¬
shire, Haddingtonshire, Linlithgow¬
shire.
Lothian’s revolving balance, XXI. 837.
Lothing (Lake), VIII. 193.
Lotion, XIII. 568.
Lotophagi, XIII. 568.
Lottery, XIII. 569.
Lotus, V. 106.
Loudeac, in France, XIII, 569.
Loudon, in France, XIII. 569.
 Hill, battle of, V. 351.
 (A.), his visit to the Valley of
Death, XVIII. 183.
  (J. L.), on flower-gardens, XL
676 — bis design for a suspension-
bridge, XXI. 8.
Louer, Hindu town, XIII. 569.
LoughRorough, town in Leicestershire,
XIII. 570.
Louhans, in France, XIII. 570.
Louis, (Knights of St), XIII. 570.
 D’Or, coin, XIII. 570; XV. 4 07.
 (Dr), on medical jurisprudence,
XIV. 491.
   (St), or Senegal, XX. 94
 — (St), in Missouri, XV. 303.
 le Debonnaire, X. 10.
 the Stammerer, X. 11.
   the Gross, X. 12.
 VII., reign of, X. 13.
 VIII., X. 13.
   IX., reign of, X. 13—crusades of,
VII. 483, 486; XVI. 758.
 X., reign of, X. 15.
   XI., reign of, X. 25—his employ¬
ment of, and favours to Philip de
INDEX.
95
LOU—LUB
Comines, VII. 151 — Montesquieu’s
opinion of, XV. 131—his treatment of
the Swiss, XXI. 43.
Louis XII., reign of, X. 29—his inva¬
sion of Italy, XII. 475.
 XIII., reign of, X. 34 ; XIV.
341—duelling in reign of, VIII. 253.
  XIV., reign of, X. 34—charac¬
ter of the court of, I. 53—wars of,
III. 597 ; in the Netherlands, IV. 220 ;
against the Dutch, V. 347 5X1. 625 ;
with Britain, V. 3G8—his admiration
of Bourdaloue, 152—his treatment of
James the Second, 358, 366—perse¬
cution of the Protestants in his reign,
VIII. 135—duelling, 253—his army,
X. 204—poetry of the age of, XVIII.
165—his navy, XX. 226, 333—Siamese
ambassadors sent to, 323.
 XV., reign of, X. 34—Damien’s
attempted assassination of, VII. 608.
 XVI., reign of, X. 37.
• XVII., reign of, X. 97.
LUB—LUD
error in that work, XXI. 242—on the
tides, 274, et seq.
Lubec, island, XIII. 582.
■, in Maine, XIV. 44.
Louisiade, XIII. 570 : IV. 211.
Louisiana, XIII. 570—its cession to
France in 1802 ; V. 510—its sove¬
reignty ceded by the Spaniards to
Bonaparte, 514—canals in, XVI. 26
—railroads in, XXI. 474—state-bonds
of, 479.
Louisville, in Kentucky, XII. 698.
Lochistan, in Persia, XIII. 574.
Louse, IX. 295. See Lice.
Louth, Irish county, XIII. 574.
 , in Lincolnshire, XIII, 576.
 Canal, XVI. 15.
Louvain, in Belgium, XIII. 576.
Louvet’s romances, XIX. 354.
Louviebs, in France, XIII. 576.
Louvre, XVII. 76, 78, 238.
Love, XIII. 576 ; ,XV. 474—an ingre¬
dient in the spirit of chivalry, VI.
595—inte*2st imparted by ii to the
drama, VIII. 148, 156, 164—sexual,
X\ II. 461, 683 — amatory poetry,
XVIII. 156.
Love-apple, XI. 675.
Love-feasts, II. 240.
Lovelace, XVIII. 170.
Lovel (Viscount), his insurrection in
Henry VII.’s reign, VIII. 740.
Lovere, Italian city, XIII. 579.
Lovi (Mrs), her beads, VII. 593.
Lowance, Persian river, XIII. 579.
Lowashan, province of the Burmese
Empire, XIII. 579.
Eow-Bele, in birding, XIII. 579.
Eowe, a Scotch surgeon, XX. 829.
Lowell, in Massachusetts, XIV. 304.
Eowenorn’s voyage, XVIII. 219.
Lower (Richard), XIII. 579 ; II. 699.
Lowering, in distilling, XIII. 579.
Lowestoff, XIII. 579 — naval battle
with the Dutch off, V. 343—harbour
near, VIII. 193—navigation to Nor¬
wich, XVI. 16.
Lowlands of Scotland, XIX. 745.
Lowndes on the silver coinage, VII. 37.
Lowry (Wilson), IX. 55.
Lowth (Dr William), XIII. 579.
■ iDr Robert), XIII. 580—his
opinion of the common English trans¬
lation of the bible, I. 18, n. 1—his opi¬
nion of Hooker’s style, 39.
Lowther (Sir James), V. 418.
Loxa, in Colombia, XIII. 581—Spanish
city, 463.
Loxia, birds, XVI. 581.
Loxocera, insect, IX. 286.
Loyd (S. J,), on the issuing of paper
money, XVII. 26.
Loyne, or Lime, river. See Lune.
Lotola (Ignatius), XII. 244, 552.
oyosa, his visit to theLadrone Islands,
XVIII. 316.
581—in heraldry, ib.;
Lozere, in France, XIII. 581.
Lozolo, Italian town, XIII. 582.
Lubbock (Mr), on annuities, III. 203—
on the orbits of comets, VII. 139—on
Probability, XVIII. 594-his Essay
on the Heat of Vapours, XX. 484—
Lubeck, XIII. 582 ; IV. 329—its com¬
merce, VII. 158; with Denmark, 720
—coins, XV. 410—weights and mea¬
sures, XXI. 854.
Lcbienietski (Stanislaus), XIII. 582.
Lubin (Eilhard), XIII. 583.
Lublin, Polish province, XIII. 583.
Lubni, in Russia, XIII. 533.
Luc (J. A. de), XIII. 583—on barome¬
tric measurements, I. 614 ; IV. 398—
his disingenuous appropriation of the
discovery of latent heat, IV. 657—on
Hannibal’s route across the Alps,
VI. 196, n.—on the creation of the
earth, VII. 456—on evaporation, IX.
426 —his hygrometer, XII. 113;
XVII. 533—his pyrometer, XVIII.
749—his electric pile, XXI. 673.
Lucanas, in Peru, XIII, 584.
Lucania, in Italy, XIII. 584.
Lucanides, insects, IX. 161.
Lucanus (M. A.), XIII. 585; XIX. 403
—poetry of, XVIII. 155—Barman’s
edition of his Pharsalia, V. 719.
insect, IX. 162.
Lucar (St), de Barrameda, XIII. 585.
 (St), de Guadiana, XIII. 585.
Lucaria, Roman feast, XIII. 585.
Lucarno, lake, XII. 483.
Lucas (Charles), XII. 381.
 '(Jacobs), artist, XIII. 585.
 (Richard), divine, XIII. 586.
 Paciolus, or De Burgo, on alge¬
bra, II. 422—on geometry, X. 429.
Lucayas, or Bahamas, IV. 282.
Lucca, XIII. 586—coins of, XV. 410—
weights and measures, XXI. 854.
 -, in Jamaica, XII. 501.
Lucera, city of Naples, XIII. 586.
Luceres, XIII. 586 ; XIX. 378.
Lucerius, XIII. 586.
LucERNA,in Piedmont, XIII. 586.
Lucerne, culture of, II. 293.
 , Swiss canton, XIII. 586.
 (Lake of), XXI. 46—its tempe¬
rature, VI. 749.
Lucia (St), island, XIII. 587.
   (St), Sicilian city, XIII. 588.
Lucianists, religious sect, XIII. 588.
Lucianus, XIII. 588—ridiculed appari¬
tions, III. 301—on the Deluge, VII.
693, 742.
LubiFER, XIII. 589.
Lccifera, XIII. 589.
Luciferians, sect, XIII. 589,
Lucilius (Caius), XIII. 589.
Lucimeter, XIII. 589.
Lucina, goddess, XIII. 590—insect, IX.
288—in conchology, XV. 341.
Lucio-perca, fish, XII. 168.
Luckenwalde, XIII. 590.
Lucknow, XIII. 590 ; XI. 408.
Luckput Bunder, XIII. 591.
Lctcretia, XIII. 591 ; XIX. 3,67.
Lucretius (T. Carus), XIII. 591—philo¬
sophy of, I, 186—on apparitions. III.
294—poetry of, XVIII. 153—Wake¬
field’s edition of, XXI. 707.
Lucrino (Lago), XV. 698.
Lucullus (Lucius Licinius), XIII. 592;
XIX. 395—his invasion of Armenia,
III. 575—his banqueting-rooms, IV.
352—library, XIII. 289—expedition
against Mithridates, XVIII. 353.
Lucus, sacred grove, XIII. 592.
Lud, British king, XIII. 592.
Ludamar, XIII. 592 ; XX. 93.
Ludehaunah, XIII. 592.
Ludenscheid, XIII. 592.
Ludgershall, in Wilts, XIII. 592.
Ludi,XHI. 592—grossness of, VIII. 153.
Ludicrous (the), XIII. 121; XIV. 196;
XIX. 249.
Ludius, painter, XIII. 592.
Ludlam’s balance, XIV. 371.
Ludlow, in Shropshire, XIII. 593.
 (Edmund), XIII. 503.
Ludolph (Job), XIII. 593—his works
on Ethiopia, II. 54.
LUD—LUT
Ludolph (Henry William), XIII. 593.
Ludwig’s botanical arrangement, V. 80.
Ludwigsburg, XIII. 593.
Ludwigslust, XIII. 593.
Luff, a sea-term, XIII. 593.
Luff-Tackle, XIII. 593.
Lug-Sail, XIII. 593.
Lugano, Swiss city, XIII. 593.
 , lake, XII. 483 ; XIII. 4 69.
Lugdunum, XIII. 594—Batavorum, ib.
Lugo, Spanish city, XIII. 594.
Lugos, town in Hungary, XIII. 594.
Luitprand, Lombard king, XIII. 466.
Luke (St), XIII. 594—Gospel of, ib.
Luke’s (St) Day, XIII. 594.
 (St) Academy, XVI. 716.
 (St) Hospital, XIII. 516.
Lukianow, in Russia, XIH. 594.
Lukin’s experiments on the seasoning of
timber, VIII. 229.
Lulli (Jean Baptiste), XIII. 594.
Lully (Raymond), XIII. 594—on al¬
chemy, VI. 344.
Lumbar vertebr®, II. 761—muscles,793.
Lumberers of Canada, VI. 62.
Lumbricus, worm, XI. 222.
Lumezzano, XIII. 594.
Lumghanat, XIII. 594.
Luminous, XIII. 594—Emanations, ib.,
336—Jar, VIII. 584. See Phospho¬
rescent Bodies.
Lumley Castle, VIII. 291.
Lump-fish, XII. 221.
Lumpus, fish, XII. 221.
Luna, XIII. 594—Cornea, ib.
Lunar, XIII. 594. See Moon.
 Month. See Month.
  Year, XIII. 594. See Year.
Lunardi’s aerial voyages, II. 189.
Lunatic asylums, XIV. 586—in Dublin,
VIII. 243. See Bedlam, Insanity, Men¬
tal Diseases.
Lunawara, Hindu town, XIII. 594.
Lund, XIII. 594—library at, 316.
Lundy, island, XIII. 595; VII. 747.
Lune, in geometry, XIII. 595—of Hip¬
pocrates, XX. 552.
, liver, XIII. 50—aqueduct over
LUT—LYB
III. 322—navigation of, XVI. 16.
LunEburg, in Hanover, XIII. 595.
Lunel La Bille, XIII. 595.
Lunenburg, in Nova Scotia, XVI. 286.
Lunense Marmor, XIII. 595.
Lunette, XIII. 595.
Luneville, in France, XIII. 595.
Lungs, II. 821 ; XVII. 583, 645—effect
of training on the, VIII. 25—compli¬
cation of diseases of, XVII. 493—cir¬
culation in, 641, 644—excretory func¬
tion of, 655, 649—inflammation of, in
the domestic animals, XXI. 630. See
Respiration, Phthisis, Diving.
Lunisolar year, XIII. 595.
Lupercalia, Roman feasts, XIII. 595.
Luperci, priests of Pan, XIII. 595.
Luperus, insect, IX. 184.
Lurcher, dog, XIH. 595.
Lure, XIII. 595.
Lurgan and Lurgan Green, XIII. 595.
Lus or Luz, French city, XIII. 595.
 , in Persia, XIII. 596.
Lusatia, in Saxony, XIII. 126.
Lusitania, XIII. 596 ; XVIII. 462 ;
XX. 491.
Lustral, XIII. 596—Day, ib.
Lustration, XIII. 596.
Lustre of minerals, XV. 130.
Lustrum, XIII. 596.
Lute, XIII. 596.
Luteolin, VIII. 319.
Lutetia Parisiorum, XIII. 596.
Luther (Martin), XIII. 596—his con¬
tempt for Aristotle, 1.16—remarkable
credulity of, 238—Mosheim on his
theological system, 21—his Colloquia
Mensalia, II. 677—his combats with
the devil, III. 298—his German Bible,
IV. 617—his share in effecting the
Reformation, XIX. 88, etseq.—on free
will, XX. 88—his doctrine of consub-
stantiation, 816. See Erasmus, Me-
lancthon.
Lutheranism, XIII. 601
Lutherans, XIII. 601.
Luthern, in architecture, XIII. 601.
Luton, XIII. 601 ; IV. 517.
Lutra, in zoology, XIV. 111.
Lutraria, in conchology, XV. 342.
Lutterloch (Henry), V. 425.
Lutterworth, in Leicester, XIII. 601.
Lutzen, battle of, X. 161 ; XXI. 18.
Luvarus, fish, XII. 188.
Luxation, in surgery, XIII. 602.
Luxemburg, XIII. 602 ; XI. 528.
 (Duke of), XIII. 602.
Luxeuie, French city, XIII. 602.
Luxor, in Egypt, ruins at, III. 410:
VIII. 511, 540.
Luxurians Flos, XIII. 602.
Luxury, XIII. 602—not disadvanta¬
geous, XVIII. 304.
Luzaney on ornithology, XVI. 545.
Luzin, in Russia, XIII. 604.
Luzk, in Russia, X1JI. 604.
Luzon, island, XIH. 604.
Lybia. See Libya.
Lycaena, insect, IX. 242.
Lyczeum, in Athens, XIII. 604 ; IV. 120.
Lycaon, XIII. 605.
Lycia, in Asia Minor, XIII. 605.
Lycian language, XIH. 84.
Lycodon, serpent, XX. 139.
Lycodontes, fossil teeth, XIII. 605.
Lycomedes, XIH. 605.
Lycon, philosopher, XIII. 605—an ac¬
cuser of Socrates, XX. 446.
Lycoperdacejfi, in botany, reproductive
organs of, V. 57.
coperdina, insect, IX. 185.
Lycophron, Greek poet, XIII. 605.
Lycopodiaceae, in botany, V. 38, 138 
reproductive organs of, 54.
Lycosa arachnides, III. 363.
Lyctus insect, IX. 176.
Lycurgia, Spartan festival, XIII. 606.
Lycurgus, Spartan legislator, XIII.606.
—institutions of, XX. 527-8.
, orator, XIII. 606 ; IV. 146.
Lycus, msect, IX. 141.
Lydd, town in Kent, XIII. 606.
Lydgate (John), XIH. 606—poetry of,
XVIII. 169.
Lydia, in Asia Minor, XIII. 606.
Lydiat (Thomas), XIH. 610.
Lydius Lapis, XIII. 610.
Lydney, English town, XIII. 610.
Lyell on the elevation of the Swedish
shores, XV. 218.
Lygseus, insect, IX. 196.
Lyme Regis, in Dorsetshire, XIII. 610.
Lymexylon, insect, IX. 146.
Lymington, XIII. 610.
Shrimp, VII. 503
Lymph, XIII. 610; II. 713.
Lymphs:a, XIII. 610.
Lymphati, XIII. 610.
Lymphatic glands, II. 730.
Lymphatics, II. 728, 817 ; XVII. 582,
652—discovery of the distinction be
tween the lacteals and, 11. 698—far •
ther discoveries respecting the, 703.
Lympyis noctiluca, XIII. 338.
Lynceus, XIII. 610.
Lyncurium, XIII. 611.
Lyncurius Lapis, XIII.,611.
LYNDHURST.in Hampshire, XIII. 611.
Lynn, in Massachusetts, XIV. 306.
river navigation, XVI. 16.
Lynn-Regis, in Norfolk, XIII. 611.
Lynx, XIV. 123
Lyon (Capt.), his arctic voyages of dis¬
covery, XVIH. 221.
  (David), on magnetic metals,
XIII. 699.
 Court of Scotland, VIII. 419.
King of Arms, XIII. 611; XI.
242 ; XIX. 7 61.
Lyonet (Peter), XIII. 611.
Lyons, XIII. 6)2—Montgolfier’s ascent
in a balloon from, II. 187—cotton-
manufacture of, VII. 417—events at.
in 1793, X. 80—shawl-manufacturo
of, XX. 193.
Lyra, constellation, XIII. 613.
Lyre, musical instrument, XIII. 613.
Lyre-tail,bird, XVI. 574.
i
96
INDEX,
LYR—MAC
Lyric poetry, XXII. 614—of the Greeks,
XVIII. 151.
Lyriocephalus, reptile, XIX. 143.
Lyrodi, musicians, XIII. 614.
Lyrops, insect, IX. 229.
Lysander, Athens captured by, IV. 160.
Lysandria, festival, XIII. 614.
Lysiarch, XIII. 614.
Lysias of Athens, XIII. 614—oratory
of, XIX. 215.
Lysicrates, choragic monument of, III.
416, 436, 442, 473 ; IV. 119.
Lysidice, worm, XI. 220.
Lysimachus, general, XIII. 615.
Lysippus, XIII. 615—statues of, XX. 7.
Lystra, insect, IX. 203.
Lystronichus, insect, IX. 166.
Lythrariese, in botany, V. 108.
Lytta, insect, IX. 168.
Lyttelton (Edward), XIII. 615.
 (George, Lord), XIII. 615.
M
M, letter of the alphabet, XIII. 617.
Maat (Jan), IV. 674.
Mabillon (John), XIII. 617.
Macacus, in zoology, XIV. 93. ^
Macadam on road-making, XIX. 296.
Macaire, French town, XIII. 617.
Macao, in China, XIII. 617.
Macarca, in Austria, XIII. 618.
Macarians, sect, XIII. 618.
Macaroni, XII. 488.
Macaronic poetry, XIII. 618—origin
of its name, VIII. 273, n. 3.
Macarthur (Dr John), his translation of
Cesarotti on Ossian, XVI. 658, n.
——— (Capt. John), an eminent wool-
grower in New South Wales, XXI. 923.
Macartney-cock, XVI. 610.
Macassar, XIII. 618; VI. 270.
Macau, French town, XIII. 618.
Macaulay (X. B.), on the necessity of an
Indian Code, XIII. 185—on Milton,
XV. 100, n.; 103—on Lord Chatham’s
eloquence, XVII. 762.
Macbeth, XIII. 619 ; XII. 336 ; XIX.
700—Tragedy of, VIII. 160.
Macbride (Captain), on the British navy,
V. 440.
Maccabees, XIII. 618; XII. 570; XVI.
751.
Maccail (H.), martyrdom of, V. 349.
M‘Car thy (Sir Charles), III. 668.
Maccaw, bird, XVI. 600.
Macclesfield, town in Cheshire, XIII.
619—canal, XVI. 16.
M‘Crie (Dr Thomas), XIII. 659.
Maccullagh (Professor),on optics, XVI.
376, 496, 504, 507.
Macculloch (Dr John), on the second
sight, III. 304—on vitrified forts, IX.
755, 760.
M‘Culloch (J. It.), on primogeniture,
XVIII. 533.
Macdonald (Dr), his experiments on di¬
gestion, VIII. 21.
 (Lieut-Col.), on the telegraph,
XXI. 139.
Macdowall’s feeding apparatus of steam-
boilers, XX. 681.
Mace of Banda Islands, IV. 341.
Macedon, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Macedonia, XIII. 619 ; X. 723—Mace¬
donian army, III. 586 ; era, VI. 659;
months, ib.; empire, XI. 474—wars
with the Romans, XIX. 387, 388. See
Alexander the Great.
Macedonians, sect, XIII. 643.
Macer (Emilius), poet, XIII. 643.
Maceration, XIII. 643.
Macerta, Italian delegation, XIII. 643.
Macgillivray (W.), his Life of Aristotle
quoted, XIV. 74—on British birds,
XVI. 554. 562, 567, 584, 612—on web¬
footed birds, 628, n. 8.
Macgregor (Mr), on the Canadian tim¬
ber-trade, VI. 62—on the French Ca¬
nadians, 66.
MAC
M’Grigor (Sir James), on the plague,
XVII. 773, e« seq.
Macguire (Lord), his rebellion, V. 319.
Maghjerus, in Palestine, XIII. 643.
Machaon, XIII. 643 ; XX. 820.
Machault, French town, XIII. 643.
Maciiecoul, French city', XIII. 643.
Macherla, Hindu town, XIII. 643.
Machetes, bird, XVI. 624.
Machias, in Maine, XIV. 44.
Macbiavelism, religious, its bad effects
on philosophy and morals, I. 23.
Machiavelli (Nicolo), XIII. 644—cha¬
racter and principles of, I. 22, 25 —
real intentions of, in writing his
Prince, 234—his maxims have been
refuted, 23—no friend to the priest¬
hood, ib.—Hume’s estimate of his
character, 24—letters of, 235-G.
Machilis, insect, IX. 295.
Machin (Mr), on the quadrature of the
circle, XX. 555.
Machines, XIII. 650 ; XIV. 356, 445—
maximum effect of, 391.
Machinery, effects of its use on the con¬
dition of the people, VII. 415—con¬
struction of, XIV. 404—simplification
0f; 406—friction of, 415-first movers
of, 426—elements of, 445—effect of
new inventions on wages, XXI. 938.
See Friction, Mechanics.
 in poetry, XIII. 650.
Machtebete, XIII. 650.
Machul, XIII. 650.
Machynleth, in Wales, XIII. 650.
Mack (General), V. 530 ; X. 110, 137.
Maekay, family of, XI. 250, n-
 (General), V. 361-2.
Mackenheim, Prussian town, XIII. 650.
Mackenzie (Cha.), on Hayti, VIII. 107.
  (Sir George), Scotch lawyer,
XIII. 650 ; V. 350, 631—his defence
of the treatment of Charles I. by the
Scotch, 330—his equivocating account
of the treatment of Mitchell, 351, n.
—his character of Lord Stair, VII.
600—on duelling, VIII. 254—on he¬
raldry, XI. 243, et seq.
 (Sir G. S.), on vitrified forts, IX.
756, 760, 761—on Iceland, XII. 143,
145, 147—on phrenology, XVII. 473.
 (Henry), XIII. 652—has deli¬
neated Hume’s character in the story
of La Roche, 1. 352—on Ossian, XVI.
658, 664—his novels, XIX. 341.
  (Dr Murdoch), on the plague,
XVII. 773, et seq.
Mackerel, XII. 180.
Mackerel-fishery of Dorsetshire, VIII.
120—of England, 769.
Mackinac, XV. 8.
Mackintosh (Sir Jlimes), XIII. 653.—
his Dissertation on the progress of
ethical philosophy, I. 291 — on the
independence of Geneva, IV. 312 —
on Macpherson and Ossian, 669—on
the ancient Britons, V. 294, et seq.
—his bills for the improvement of the
criminal code, 554, 559—his charac¬
ters of Canning, VI. 84 ; Sir S. Ro-
milly, VIII. 265 ; George Wilson, ib.;
and C. J. Fox, IX. 807—on Cardi¬
nal Wolsey, VHI. 743—on the plun¬
der of the Church by Henry the
Eighth, 747—on the alleged intention
to persecute the Catholics in the reign
of Edward the Sixth, 755—on the
Eikon Basilike, X. 371—on Robertson
and Gibbon, 514, n. 2—on the Inde¬
pendents, XII. 264—on the Jesuits,
555—his Letter to Malcolm Laing on
Queen Mary, XIII. 24—on liberty, 172.
Macklahsul, Hindu town, XIII. 657.
Macknight (Dr), on the Gospel History,
VI. 622.
Mackonoehie on the preservation of
timber, XX. 274.
Mackoor, in Hindustan, XIII. 657.
Mackwa, Hindu town, XIII. 657.
Maclaurin (Colin), XIII. 658—his op¬
position to Leibnitz’s law of conti¬
nuity, I. 133—contributed to the ad¬
vancement of science by expounding i
MAC—MAD
Newton’s Principia, 576—his method
of expounding forces by co-ordinates
advanced the science of dynamics, 604
—on the earth’s figure, 656; IX. 551—
on the geometric properties of bees’
combs, IV. 526—on the inverse pro¬
blem of centripetal forces, VIII. 386
—on fluxions, IX. 637 ; X. 430—on
the size of animals, 499—on the mo¬
tion of fluids, XII. 4—on the lever,
XIV. 361—on the tides, XXI. 260.
Made, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Macleay (W. S.), on the classification of
animals, III. 160—his classification,
178 ; IX. 93—on equivocal genera¬
tion, III. 162—on the Linnsean alga:,
181—on entomology, IX. 88, et seq.
Maclureite, a mineral, XV. 158.
Macnab (John), his experiments on
freezing-mixtures, VI. 263.
M'Neill (Hector), poet, XV. 307.
Macon, in France, XIII. 659.
Macowall, Hindu town, XIII. 659.
Macpherson (James), his publication of
Ossian, XVI. 659—Sir J. Mackintosh
on the literary fraud thus committed,
IV. 669, n.
Macquarrie (General), his administra¬
tion in New South Wales, XXI. 712.
   Island, XIII. 659 ; IV. 217.
 River, IV. 207 ; XXI. 715.
Macquer (Pierre Joseph), XIII. 659—
his attempts to dissolve caoutchouc,
VI. 106—on dyeing, VIII. 297.
Macraspis, insect, IX. 157.
Macrin (Salmon), poet, XIII. 665.
Macrinus, reign of, XIX. 410.
Macrobians, IX. 378.
Macrobii, Ethiopian people, XIII. 665.
Macrobius (A. A. T.), Latin writer,
XIII. 665; XVII. 413.
Macrocera, insect, IX. 234, 262.
Macrocerci, animalcules, XIII. 665.
Macrocercus, bird, XVI. 600.
Macrocheles, arachnides, III. 367.
Macrocolum, XIII. 665.
Macrpcosm, XIII. 665.
Macrodactyla, insects, IX. 150.
Macrodactyles, birds, XVI. 626.
Macroglossus, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Macronota, insect, IX. 161.
Maeropeza, insect, IX. 260.
Macropodus, fish, XII. 190.
Macropus, in zoology, XIV. 128.
Macroramphus, bird, XVI. 623.
Macrorhinus, in zoology, XIV. 124.
Macroura, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Macrourus, fish, XII. 219.
Mactan Isle, XIII. 665.
Mactatio, XIII. 665.
Mactra, mollusca, XV. 341.
Mactreacea, mollusca, XV. 341.
Macula, Arabian bay, XIII. 665.
Macuna, island, XIII. 666.
M'William on dry-rot, VIII. 227.
Madagascar, island, XIII. 666—ser¬
pents of, XX. 133, 136.
Madalena (La), island, XIII. 670.
Madan on polygamy, XVIII. 313.
Madder,a red dye-stuff, VIII. 306, 312-
colouring matter of, VI. 483—its cul¬
ture in Greece, X. 728 ; at Derbend,
XIX. 589—specific gravity of its root,
XII. 32—tithe on, XXI. 114.
Madeira, island, XIII. 670—weights
and measures of, XXI. 854.
 de Hello, V. 196.
 , river, V. 198 ; XIV. 326.
Madeira-wina. See Wine-making.
Maden, in Armenia, XIII. 671.
Madghery, Hindu town, XIII. 672.
Madigheshy, XIII. 672.
Madiran, French town, XIII. 672.
Madison, in Indiana, XII. 266.
Madness. See Daemoniac, Insanity,
Mental Diseases.
Madocks (W. A.), his embanking enter¬
prise in Wales, "V'lll. 680.
Madras, Hindu city, XIII. 672—judi¬
cature at, XI. 455.
Madreporidte, zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Madrid, XIII. 674—Academies of Paint¬
ing and History at, II. 74, 75—Royal
MAD—MAG
Spanish Academy at, 77—libraries at,
X1H. 307—insurrection at, in the year
1822, XX. 509.
Madrid (New), in Missouri, XV. 304.
Madrigal, XIII. 675.
Madrilejos, XIII. 675.
Mad-Staggers, XXI. 633.
Madura, in Hindustan, XIII. 675.
 , island, XIII. 675.
Meander, river, XIII. 676.
M^eat.®, ancient Britons, XIII. 676.
Maecenas (Cains Ciluius), XIII. 676;
XIX. 400—his patronage of Virgil,
XXI. 655.
Moeen, island, IV. 328.
Maelstrom, XIII. 676 ; XVI. 261.
MiEMACTERIA, XIII. 677.
M.emacterion, XIII. 677.
M®:onia, XIII. 677, 607.
Masonidas, XIII. 677.
Maonides, XIII. 677.
Masotis Palus, XIII. 677.
Maesniel, XIII. 677.
M.bstlin (Michael), XIII. 677.
Maestricht, XIII. 677.
Maffaeus (Vegio), poet, XIII. 677.
Maffei (Scipio), poet, XIII. 677—on
inscriptions, XII. 292—his Verona B-
lustrata, XVI. 767.
   (Marquis), ascending thunder¬
bolt seen by, VIII. 619.
Mafra, Portuguese town, XIII. 677.
Magada, XIII. 677.
Magalhaens. See Magellan.
Magas, XIII. 677.
Magatus (Csesar), XX. 829.
Magazine, XIII. 677, 678.
 (Gentleman’s), VI. 259.
Magdalen (St), Religious of, XHL 678.
 (Mart), XIV. 270.
Magdalena, island, XIII. 678.
Magdeburg, XIII. 678—Tilly’s siegs
of, XXI. 18—Magdebuig experiment
in pneumatics, IV. 388.
Mageboe, island, XIII. 678.
Magellan (Ferdinand de), XIII. 678;
XVII. 115, n. 2—his circumnaviga¬
tion, X. 399—his visit to the Ladrone
Islands, XVIII. 316.
 (Straits of), XIII. 679 ; XVII.
116.—climate of, II. 612.
Magellan’s barometer, IV. 391—his ba¬
lance, XIV. 371.
Magellanic Clouds, XIII. 679.
Magendie on the veins, II. 720—on ex¬
halation, 728—his dietetic experi¬
ments, VIII. 18.
Magenta, Italian city, XIII. 679.
Mageroe, island, XIII. 112.
Maggi (Jerome), XIII. 679.
Maggiore (Lago), XIII. 679, 469 ; XII.
483; XVII. 523—islands in, V. 16-
temperature of, VI. 749.
Maggot, or fly-worm, XIII. 679—it
sheep, XXL 637.
Magi, XIII. 679—polytheism of the
Persian, XVIII. 331, 341.
Magic, XIII. 679—Natural, &c., 680—
of the Druids, VIII. 209.
Magic-disc, XVI. 512.
Magic-lantern, XVI. 513—application
of the kaleidoscope to the, XH. 669.
 Squares, XIII. 681; I. 588.
Magician, XIII. 683—persecution of
magicians by Valens, VII. 278.
Macindanao, island, XIII. 683.
Maginus’s burning-mirror, V. 734.
Magistery, XIII. 684.
Magistrate, XIII. 684—the Econo¬
mists on magistrates, VHI. 404.
Magliabechi (Antonio), XIII. 684.
Magliabechian library, XIII. 310.
Magliano, in Piedmont, XIII. 684.
Magloire (St.), XIII. 684.
Magna Charta, VI. 332 ; VIII. 722.
Magnac-Laval, XIII. 684.
Magna'nimity, XIII. 684—formation
of, I. 407.
Magnentius, V. 301 ; VII. 272.
Magnesia, in Asia Minor, XIII. 684.
 , in chemistry, VI. 397—salts of,
447—specific gravity of, XII. 32—na¬
tive, XV. 148.
INDEX
97
MAG—MAH
Magnesian limestone, XV. 200, 201—
Tennant on, XXI. 180.
Iilagnesite, in mineralogy, XV. 148—
specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Magnesium, VI. 397.
Magnet, XIII. 702, 709 — Gilbert on
the, I. 454—its employment in me¬
dicine, XIV. et seq.—magnets made
by voltaic electricity, XXI. 686.
Magnetic iron-ore, XV. 162.
 pyrites, XV. 167.
Magnetical Island, XIII. 684.
Magnetism, XIII. 685 ; XVII. 568—
phenomena, origin, and history of, I.
624, et seq.—iEpinus on, II. 174—
Biot and Gay-Lussac’s observations in
a balloon, II. 192, 194—magnetic pro¬
perty of aurora borealis, IV. 199,201—
Cavallo on, VI. 253 — Coulomb on,
VII. 426-8 ; I. 626-7—magnetic effects
of electricity, VIII. 636 ; of the solar
rays, XVI. 422—electro-magnetism,
XXI. 683; XIII. 752; discovered by
Oersted, VIII. 637. See Compass.
 (Animal), XIV. 1 ; XX. 477—
Bailly’s Report on, IV. 290.
Magncto-eledfeeity, XXI. 690; VIII.
573-4.
Magnifying, XIV. 24. See Lens.
Magnitude, XIV. 24—our ideas of, re¬
lative, IX. 156—perception of, XIV.
611, 612.
Magnolia, XIV. 24 ; XVII. 786.
Magnoliacese, in botany, V. 95.
Magnus Campus, XIV. 24.
 Portus, XIV. 24.
Mago, Carthaginian generals of that
name, XIV. 24; VI. 186, 198, 199.
 , town in Minorca, XIV. 24.
Magontiacum, XIV. 24.
Magpie, XVI. 584.
Magrebians, Alexandria taken by the,
II. 411.
Maguey, culture of, XIV. 800.
Magyars, IV. 224, 236 ; IX. 723, 729.
Mahabalipuram, XIV. 24.
Mahanuddy, Hindu river, XIV. 25.
Maiie, Hindu town, XIV. 25.
Mahe Islands, XIV. 333.
Maherbal, VI. 198.
Mahie, XIV. 25.
Mahim, Hindu town, XIV. 25.
Mahmudabad, XIV. 25.
Mahogany, XL 550; XII. 499—sp. gr.
of, 32—its use in joinery, 618.
Mahommed, XIV. 25 ; XI. 480—history
of, III. 341—indignities offered to his
tomb by the Wahabis, VIII. 501—
source of his knowledge of Christ’s
history, XII. 561—tomb of, XIV.
530.
 Abulwafa, II. 421.
 Ali. See Mehemmed.
 — Bey, VIII. 486.
Mahommed-Ben-Musa, II. 421.
Mahommedan year, VI. 7.
 power in Asia, III. 686.
—■— wives, VIII. 528.
Mahommedans in India, XI. 394 ; Java,
XII. 532; Jerusalem, 551; Russia,
XIX. 581—their conquest of Egypt,
VIII. 477 ; India, XI. 409 ; Persia,
XML 262—their hatred of images,
XII. 253—their laws against usury,
323 — favour the Jews, 578 — their
tombs, XXL 324—the Jezides, XII.
5S4. See Arabians, Saracens.
Mahommedanism, XIV. 32 ; XI. 707 
in Abyssinia, II. 50 ; Afghanistan, II.
216; Persia, XVII. 252—alms-giving,
II. 537—pilgrimage to Mecca and Me¬
dina, III. 338, 340—origin of, 341—
era of the Hegira, VI. 661; XI. 206.
See Aboubeker, Alsirat, Koran, Ma¬
hommed, Mussulman.
Mahmoud’s Indian conquests, III. 687:
XL 409.
Mahmoud, Turkish sultan, XXI. 417.
Mahmoudyeh, canal of, VIII. 523.
Mahon, in Minorca, XIV. 40.
Mahoning, river, XVI. 326.
Mahoor, Hindu town, XIV. 40.
Mahrattas, XIV. 40; XI. 395, 410,
MAH—MAL
412, 421, 422, 434—Mahratta power
in India, III. C90.
Mahrisch-Kromau, XIV. 41.
Mahrisch-Trubau, XIV. 41.
Mahu (Jacob), voyage of, XVIII. 224.
Mahwah, tree, XIV. 41.
Mahy, Hindu river, XIV. 41.
Mai (Signor). See Maio.
Mata, XIV. 41.
Maida, Neapolitan town, XIV. 41—
battle of, V. 523.
Maiden, an instrument for beheading,
XIV. 41; IV. 539A
 , washing-machine, XIV. 41.
Maiden-Rents, XIV. 42.
Maidenhead, in Berks, XIV. 42.
Maiden-Newton, XIV. 42.
Maidstone, XIV. 42—manufacture of
Hollands at, VIII. 52.
Maig river navigation, XVI. 22.
Maigre, fish, XII. 175.
Maii Inductio, XIV. 43.
Mail, XIV. 42—Coat of, ib ; VII. 9.
Mail-coach. See Coach.
Mail-packets, XVIII. 491.
Mailcotta, Hindu town, XIV. 42.
Mailla (J. A. M. de M. de), XIV. 42—
his History of China, VI. 550.
Maillard (Stanislaus), X. 56.
Maillezay, French town, XIV. 42.
Maim, XIV. 42.
Maimonides (Moses), XIV. 43.
Maine, XIV. 43; XVI. 156-canals in,
24 ; XXI. 470—state-bonds of, 479.
Maine-et-Loire, XIV. 334.
Mainland, one of the Shetland Islands,
XX. 986—breed of sheep, II. 330.
Mainots, X. 753, n. 2.
Mainspring of a watch, VI. 786 -7.
Main-sac, French town, XIV. 45.
Maintenon, French towm, XIV. 45—
aqueduct of, III. 320.
 (Madame de), XIV. 45.
Mainwaring (Dr), prosecuted by Charles
the First, V. 313.
Maio (Angelo), his researches among
palimpsests, XVI. 764—Cicero’s long-
lost treatise De Republica discovered
by, VI. 695.
Mair (John), XIV. 48.
 on book-keeping, IV. 776.
Mair an (J. J. d’O. de), XIV. 45—on
ice, XII. 140.
Maire (Streights Le), XIV. 46.
 on the degree, IX. 549.
Maison-Blanche, XIV. 46.
Maissy, Hindu town, XIV. 46.
Maistre (Louis Isaac Le), XIV. 40.
Maiteu, island, XIV. 46.
Maitland Club, X. 546.
  (Mr), his character of Hector
Boyce, V. 160.
  (Sir Thomas), on the plague,
XVII. 773.
Maittaire (Michael), XIV. 46.
Maixent (St), French city, XIV. 47.
Maize, XXL 456—culture of, II. 296;
in Java, XII. 528 ; Lombardy, XIII.
480 ; Mexico, XIV. 799.
Majesty, XIV. 47.
Major, XIV. 47, 48.
Major-Domo, XIV. 48.
Major, or Mair (John), XIV. 48.
Majorca, island, XIV. 48 ; XVII. 50—
weights and measures of, XXI. 854.
Majori, Neapolitan town, XIV. 49.
Majorianus, emperor, XIX. 423.
Mnjuli, III. 705, 706.
Majunga, XIII. 667.
Makaira, fish, XII. 184.
Makariew, in Russia, XIV. 49.
Makewara, Hindu town, XIV. 49.
Makhnowka, in Russia, XIV. 49.
Mako, Hungarian town, XIV. 49.
Malabar, in India, XIV. 49.
 Point, XIV, 51.
Malaga, ancient town, XIV. 51.
Malacanthus, fish, XII. 196.
Malacca, in Asia, XIV. 51, 52 —
weights and measures of, XXI. 854.
Malachi, prophet, XIV. 52.
Malachite, in mineralogy, XV. 145—
specific gravity of, XII. 32.
MAL
Malachius,insect, IX. 145.
Malacia, disease, XIV. 53.
Malacodermi, insects, IX. 140.
Malacopterygii, fishes, XIV. 53—ab-
dominales, XII. 197—sub-brachiati,
217—apodcs, 223.
Malacostomous fishes, XIV. 53.
Malaga, Spanish city, XIV. 53.
Malaghetta Coast, XI. 29.
Malamocco, Italian town, XIV. 53.
Malapterurus, fish, XII. 203.
Malar, lake, XXI. 29.
  Bone, human, II. 777.
Malarmat, fish, XII. 173.
Malatia, in Asia Minor, XIV. 54.
Malativoe, in Ceylon, XIV. 54.
Malaucene, French town, XIV. 54.
Malavilly, Hindu fort, XIV. 54.
Malay variety of the human species,
XVII. 697, 698, 555,
 language, XIII. 82; XVIII. 315;
XX. 805.
Malays, II. 710 ; III. 693—their cha¬
racter, XIV. 52; XX. 806—their
countenance, XIV. 198, 200—charac¬
ter of the Malays of Borneo, V. 11.
Malbrouc, in zoology, XIV. 92.
Malchin, German town, XIV. 54.
Malcoha, bird, XVI. 598.
Malcolm, Scotch kings of that name,
XIX. 699, et seq., 706.
—  (Sir John), his administration
in India, XI. 4 39—his account of
Persia, XVII. 241, et seq.
Malda, Hindu town, XIV. 54.
Maldegiiem, XIV. 54.
Malden (Mr), on universities, XXL 483,
et seq.
Maldive Islands, XIV. 54.
Maldon, town in Essex, XIV. 54.
Maldonado, XV. 432.
Male, XIV. 54—mortality less in fe¬
males than in males, III. 208.
 .island, XIV. 54.
Malebranche (Nicholas), XIV. 54—
on the secondary qualities of bodies,
I. 6 3—on the sensations produced by
objects, and the judgment thereupon
formed, 64-5—his assertion that mis¬
taken judgments relative to objects
of sense result from original sin, 65
—cause which led him to study phi¬
losophy, 74—his work, The Search
after Truth, 74—his genius, ib., 75-
blends theology and metaphysics, 74-5
—his controversies on grace, 74—a
bold and free inquirer when treating
of subjects purely philosophical, 75—
his sagacious observations on sorcery,
ib.—on men and manners, 76—his
character, 77—developed the funda¬
mental principle of Hartley, ib.—on
the formation of habits, ib.—on cause
and effect, 78—objections of Leibnitz
to his principles, 78-9—reasons w hich
led him to conclude that we see all
things in God,79—coincideswith some
Hindu philosophers, ib.—his resem¬
blance to, and interview with, Berke¬
ley, 79, 80—Warburton’s opinion of,
80—his advance towards the true the¬
ory of vision, 168—his belief in the
Cartesian system regarding the soul,
181—on the love of universal order,
339—was the first who taught that vir¬
tue consists in pure intentions, 340—
on religious society and established
church, ib.—on perception, XIV. 605.
Malesherbes (C. W. de L. de), XIV.
55 ; X. 74, et seq.
Malesherhiese, in botany, V. 111.
Malformation, in pathology, XVII. 129.
See Monster.
Malherbe (Franqois de), XIV. 56—
poetry of, XVIII. 164.
Malic acid, VI. 429.
Malice, XIV. 57.
Malicorne, French town, XIV. 57.
Malicoy, island, XIV. 57.
Malignant disease, XIV. 57.
Malik Shah, king of Persia, XVII. 263.
Malipootas Isle, XIV. 57.
Malivagunga,river, XIV.57 ; VI. 299.
MAL
Malleable, XIV. 57.
Mallenders in the horse, XXI. 636.
Malleoli, in ancient war, XIV. 57.
Mallet, a hammer, XIV. 57.
 (David), XIV. 57 ; XXI. 249-
his allusion to Burman, V. 720.
(Edward), on the population of
Geneva, XV. 534, 547.
 (Mons.), on hydraulics, XII. 6.
Malleus, in eonchology, XV. 343.
Matli, Alexander’s expedition against
the, XIII. 637.
Mallia, Hindu town, XIV. 57.
Mallicollo, XIV. 57; IV. 214.
Malling, town in Kent, XIV. 57
Mallinkrot on the invention of printino,
IV. 622.
Mallison’s Island, XIV. 57.
Malloodoo, XIV. 58; V. 10.
Malloni, Neapolitan town, XIV. 58.
Mallota, insect, IX. 275.
Mallotus, fish, XII. 210.
Malmedy, Prussian city, XIV. 58.
Malmo, in Sweden, XIV. 58.
Malmsbury, in Wilts, XIV. 58.
Malmore, Hindu town, XIV. 58.
Malo (St), XIV. 58.
 (St), French city, XIV. 58.
 , Italian town, XIV. 58.
Maloi-Archangelsk, XIV. 58.
Maloi-Jaroslawetz, in Russia, XIV.
58—battle of, X. 158.
Malone on the baronets of Nova Scotia,
IV. 404—on the old English theatres,
XVIII. 49—on the popularity of
Shakspeare, XX. 170.
Maloor, Hindu town, XIV. 58.
Malouine Islands, XVII. 119.
Malpas, town in Cheshire, XIV. 58.
Malpighi, anatomical discoveries of, II.
699 ; XVII. 728—on fat, II. 716—on
vegetable anatomy, III. 42, et seq.—
on the glands, II. 749 ; XVII. 648
—on the brain, 660—on the seat of
colour in the skin, VII. 190.
Malpighiaceae, in botany, V. 102.
Malplaquet, French town, XIV. 58—
battle of, V. 372; IX. 395.
Malpoorah, XIV. 58.
Malpurba, river, XIV. 58.
Malsch, German town, XIV. 58.
Malt, quantity used in Britain, V. 252
—mill for grinding, 255—rollers for
bruising, 256—sugar of, VI. 473—
consumption of, in England, VIII.
773—malting, V. 234 — malt-kilns,
XVIII. 129.
Malt-liquors, adulteration of, XIV. 508.
See Ale, Beer, Porter.
Malta, XIV. 58 ; XIX. 557—Lord Nel¬
son on the importance of, V. 507—
disposal of, by the treaty of Amiens,
508-10—renewal of war with France
on account of, 513-16—extraordinary
cloud in, VII. 2—taken by Bonaparte,
X. 109—retained from him, 127—lan¬
guage of, XIII. 84; XVII. 374—coins
of, XV. 407,410—the plague in, XVII.
777—weights and measures of, XXI.
854.
Malte-Brun, XIV. 66.
Mai the, fish, XII. 195.
Malthinus, insect, IX. 144.
Malthus (Thomas Robert), XIV. 67—
his theory of population, VII. 114 ;
XIV. 509 ; XVIII. 415, 416—on the
advantages of a landed manufacturing
country, VII. 347—on emigration as
a remedy for over-population, VIII.
683—on wealth, XVIII. 259—on ma¬
nufactures, 286—on the distinction
between agricultural and manufactur¬
ing industry, 203.
Malting, V. 234.
Malton, in Yorkshire, XIV. 70.
Males (Stephen Louis), XIV. 70—on
chromatics, VI. 641, et seq.—on po¬
larisation of light, I. 638 ; XIII. 333;
XVIII. 242-3—on optics, XVI. 865,
455-6, 462, 470, 489, 495.
Malvaceae, in botany, V. 99.
Malvasia (Marquis of), his micrometer,
XV. 11.
98
INDEX,
MAL—MAN
Malvern, in Worcestershire, XIV. 71
—mineral springs of, XXI. 940.
Malvoisin (William de), XIV. 71.
Malwah, in Hindustan, XIV. 72.
Mambrun (Peter), XIV. 72.
Mamers, in France, XIV. 72.
Mamertines, Syracuse harassed by the,
XXI. 57.
Mamlukes, their sway in Egypt, VIII.
483, et seq.—Mehemmed All’s mas¬
sacre of the, 498—capture of Jeru¬
salem by the, XVI. 758.
Mammae, II. 827.
Mammalia, XIV. 73 ; XVII. 586, 686
-—of North America, II. 652—charac¬
teristics of, 707—subdivisions of, 708
—their bones, III. 1, 2—muscles, 18—
organs of smell, 21—eyes, 22—ears, 25
—tongue, 27—organs of voice, 28—
nervous system, 30—teeth, 32—oeso¬
phagus and stomach, 35—intestines,
37—organs of circulation, 39—lungs,
ib.—secretory organs, 40—reproduc¬
tive organs, ib.—comparative physio¬
logy of the, XVII. 699.
Mammaria, mollusca, XV. 370.
Mammiferous animals, XVII. 686.
Mammoth, II. 653—derivation of the
word, IV. 539.
  Cave, Kentucky, XII. 697.
Mamon, or Almamon, II. 531.
Mampawa, Dutch settlement, its trade
with Singapore, XX. 367.
Man, XIV. 193—original complexion
of, II. 134—Did the race spring from
one stock? ib.; VI. 274—brain of,
III. 163—senses of, more equally ba¬
lanced than in brutes, 165—American
races, II. 615—Asiatic, III. 690—effect
of climate on his active energies, II.
C22; on his body,XVII. 598; strength,
XIV 429 ; complexion, VII. 190;
XIV. 198, 202 ; health, 510; and
mind, XVI. 696—his stature, II. 630,
757—anatomy, 705—weight, 758—
attitude and gesture, 795-6—soul, III.
159, 163 — his senses and mental
powers compared with those of brutes,
162-3; XII. 304—character of Asia¬
tics, II1.69 3—varieties of man,II. 709;
V. 294 ; XVII. 554, 583, 697—where¬
in diiferent from brutes, V. 613 ;
XVII. 699—Is he naturally carnivo¬
rous ? VI. 149—differences of com-
plexion, VII. 189—daily labour of,
428—dispersion of, VIII. 42—Lord
Karnes, Rousseau,and Dr Doigon the
savage state, 91, 92—measurement of
the human body, 182—its electricity,
609—effects of electricity on it, 638-41
—man not the only animal that preys
on its kind, IX. 125—whether endow¬
ed with instincts, XII. 296, 300—me¬
chanical power of, XIV. 426, 438—
geological date of his creation un¬
known, XV. 217, 226—stages of his
life, 456—social nature of, XX. 433
— theological doctrines concerning,
XXI. 211—his original state, ib.;
fall, and its consequences, 215, etseq.;
redemption, 224. See Anatomy, Men¬
tal Philosophy, Physiology, Soul.
    (Isle of), XIV. 209—Deemsters
of, VII. 667—fisheries of, IX. 605—no
remains of Norse in the language of,
XVII. 415. See Sodor.
Man-eaters, III. 248. See Cannibalism.
MANAAB, island, XIV. 214.
Manado, in Celebes, XIV. 214.
Manah, Hindu town, XIV. 214.
Manakiu, bird, XVI. 577.
Manapar, Hindu town, XIV. 214.
Manasseii, XIV. 214.
  Ren Israel, merits of his Hebrew
Bible, IV. 614.
Manatee, river, XI. 550.
Manatoulin Islands, XIV. 214.
Manatus, in zoology, XIV. 170.
Man by (Capt.), his apparatus for saving
shipwrecked persons, XIII. 324.
Mancap, island, XIV. 214.
Mancha (La), in Spain, XIV. 214.
Manchester, XIV. -215 — massacre
MAN
there in 1819, V. 544—cotton-manu¬
facture, VII. 398 — mortality, XV.
527—canal to Runcorn, XVI. 9 —
Duke of Bridgewater’s canal, ib.; V.
288 ; VI. 509 ; XIII. 53—Bolton and
Bury canal, XVI. 16—Rochdale canal,
18—railway from Manchester to Liver¬
pool, XIX. 23, et seq.
Manciple, XIV. 228.
Manco Capac, II. 626 ; XVII. 292.
Mancote, Hindu village, XIV. 228.
Mandane, VII. 577.
Mandanes, Indian prince, XIV. 228.
Mandara, in Africa, XIV. 228.
Mandarins, XIV. 229.
Mandavee, Hindu port, XIV. 229.
Mandawee Islands, XIV. 229.
Mandeliqce, island, XIV. 229.
Mandeville (Sir John), XIV. 229.
 (Bernard), XIV. 229.
Mandibles of bees, IV. 519—of birds,
III. 12.
Mandingo, in Africa, XIV. 230.
Mandioly Isle, XIV. 231.
Mandow, XIV. 231.
Mandowee, Hindu city, XIV. 231.
Mandrills, in zoology, XIV. 93.
Manege, XIV. 231—riding, XI. 608.
Manes, XIV. 231.
Manetho, XIV. 231 :XI. 354, 355—
on Egyptian history, VIII. 4 60—his
catalogue of the Diospolitan dynas¬
ties and kings of Egypt, 539, n 2; 543.
Maufalout, VIII. 544.
Maufredi, life and scientific character
of, I. 599—his burning-mirror, V. 734
on mathematics, XIV. 321.
Manfredonia, XIV. 232 ; XV. 700.
Mangalore, XIV. 232 ; VI. 71.
Manganese, VI. 406—why oxygen is dis¬
engaged from, 357—salts of oxides of,
448—specific gravity of, XII. 32 —
mines of, in Britain, XV. 249 ; and on
the continent, 252.
 (red), XV. 142.
Manganese-blende, XV. 170.
Manganese-ore, XV. 163.
Manganesic acid, VI. 406.
Mangapet, Hindu village, XIV. 232.
Mangasea, XXI. 4 31.
Mange, disease, XXI. 630.
Mangeart (Don Thomas), XIV. 232.
Mangedava, V. 10.
Mangee, Hindu town, XIV. 232.
Mangeea, island, XIV. 232.
Mangeedara, in Borneo, XIV. 232.
Mangeray (Straits of), XIV. 232.
Manghelly, XIV. 232.
Mangle, VI. 18—Chinese, XIV. 457.
Mango-fish, XII. 171.
Mangold-Wurzel, culture of, II. 288.
Mangouste, in zoology, XIV. 119.
Mania, XIV. 585.
Maniago, Italian town, XIV. 232.
Manica, in Africa, XIV. 232.
Manichees, XIV. 232 ; XVIII. 667.
Manicheism, XVIII. 331, 340, n. 4.
Manicordon, XIV. 233.
Manicpoor, in Hindustan, XIV. 233.
Manifesto, XIV. 233.
Manifold Cape, XIV. 233.
Manilius (Marcus), poet, XIV. 234.
Manilla, XIV. 233 ; XVII. 349—cap¬
tured by the British, V. 387.
 Hemp, XI. 230.
Manioc, poisonous juice of, V. 67—its
culture in Mexico, XIV. 800.
Manipa, island, XIV. 234.
Manipulus, XIV. 2 34.
Manis, in zoology, XIV. 144.
Manjubekin, VIII. 478.
Mankiam Isle, XIV. 234.
Mann (Abb6), on Flemish agriculture,
XVI. 142.
Manlius, IX. 577; XIX. 381.
Manna, XIV. 234 ; VI. 474 ; VIII. 44.
Mannedorf, Swiss town, XIV. 235.
Manner an index of character and dis¬
position, I. 395.
Mannheim, XIV. 235—Academy of
Sciences at, II. 73.
Manning (Mr), his attempts to enter
China, VI. 548.
MAN—MAR
Manning (Robert), quoted, IX. 40.
  River, XXI. 715.
Manningtree, in Essex, XIV. 235.
Manometer, XIV. 235 ; XVII. 532.
Manor, XIV. 235.
Manowly, Hindu town, XIV. 235.
Manque of Chili, VI. 526.
Manresa, Spanish city, XIV. 235.
Manrique, poetry of, XVIII. 162.
Mans (Le), in France, XIV. 235.
Manse, XIV. 235.
Mansel (Sir Robert), bis expedition
against Algiers, II. 506.
Mansfield, XIV. 235.
 (Lord). See Murray (Wm).
Mansion-House, Loudon, XIII. 535.
Mansir, Hindu village, XIV. 236.
Manslaughter, XIV. 236.
Mansoura, XIV. 236.
Mansouria, XIV. 236.
Mantanane, island, XIV. 236.
Mantcboo Tartars, XXI. 87 ; XIII. 91.
Mantes, XIV. 236—bridge at, VI. 289.
Manticora, insect, IX. 112.
Mantinea, XIV. 2 36—battleof, III. 588;
XXI. 199—war with Sparta, XX. 527.
Mantis, insect, IX. 190.
Mantispa, insect, IX. 213.
Mantius, surgeon, XX. 822.
Mantlings, in heraldry, XI. 257.
Mantshurian language,XIII. 91; XXI. 87.
Mantua, XIV. 236—Bonaparte’s siege
of, X. 103, 105—surrendered to the
French, XV. 722—school of painting
of, XVI. 719.
Mantz. See Mantes.
Mantzichierta, VII. 284.
Manual, XIV. 236.
Manuductor, XIV 237.
Manuel, emperor of the east, VII. 289.
Manufactures, XIV. 237 — employ-
' ment of capital in, XVIII. 283—not
productive of increased mortality,
285 — distinction between them and
agriculture, 293.
Manufacturer, XIV. 237.
Manufacturing system of political eco¬
nomy, XVIII. 262.
Manumission, XIV. 237.
Manure, XIV. 237—management of,
II. 299; in Lombardy, XIII. 473—
from folding sheep, II. 334—carefully
collected in Chiua, VI. 579—for gar¬
dens, XI. 633—liquid, in Flanders,
XVI. 143.
Manuscripts, XIV. 237—illumination
of, XII. 249—restoration of decayed
inks, 278 — superior legibility of
old MSS. compared with new, 279—
where ancient MSS. may he supposed
to exist, XIII. 288—MSS. in the Bri¬
tish Museum, 295 ; at Oxford, 298 ;
Cambridge, 299 ; Edinburgh, 301;
Aberdeen, 304 ; Dublin, 304 ; Ma¬
drid, 307 ; Rome, 309 ; Florence, 310 ;
Vienna, 312 ; Dresden, 312—of the
Scriptures, XIX. 788. See Copyists,
Diplomatics, Palimpsest, Papyri.
Manutius (Aldus), senior, XIV. 237.
—  (Aldus), junior, XIV. 238—his
friendship to Crichton, VII. 468.
 (Paulus), XIV. 238.
Manwas, Hindu town, XIV. 239.
Manzoni, his romance, XIX. 350.
Manzora, river, XIV. 239.
Manzureka, river, XIV. 239.
Maouna, island, XIV. 239.
Maps, D’Anville’s improvements on, III.
278—for the blind, IV. 698—in the
time of the Crusades, VII. 495—an¬
cient, X. 394—Venetian, 400—con¬
struction and use of, 412—ordnance-
maps, XXI. 360—vertical sections,
TV. 403. See Geography, Projection.
Maple, specific gravity of, XII. 32.
Maple-trees, XVII. 786.
Mapou-tree, III. 152.
Mar (Earl of), his rebellion in 1715, V.
374—district of, II. 29.
Marabea, Arabian town, XIV. 239.
Marabou, bird, XVI. 619.
Maracay, XIV. 239.
Maracaybo, province and town, XIV.
MAR
239—town taken by the bucaneers,
V. 624—lake, VII. 90.
Maraga, Persian city, XIV. 240.
Maraldi (J. P.), astronomical labours of,
III. 743—on the planet Venus, IV.
28—on the geometric properties of
bees’ combs, IV. 526.
Marana (John Paul), XIV. 240.
Maranham or Maranhao, XIV. 240—
trade of, V. 210.
Maranon or Amazon, river, II. 587 ;
XVII. 524, 525. See Amazon.
Marasdin, Austrian city, XIV. 241.
Marat, X. 71, et seq., 79—murder of,
VII. 322. See Danton.
Marathon, XIV. 241—battle of, HI.
586, n. ; IV. 150.
Maratta. See Mahratta.
Maratti (Carlo), XIV. 242; XVI. 716.
Maratuba Isles, XIV. 242.
Maravedi, cola, XIV. 242 ; XV. 400.
Marawas, XIV. 242.
Marbella, Spanish city, XIV. 242.
Marble, XIV. 242—Athenian, IV. 122,
n. 1—Florentine, VI. 706—Irish, XU,
394—of Roman edifices, HI. 419—
specific gravity of, XII. 32—method
of working it in statuary, XX. 12.
Marblehead, XIV. 304.
Marbling of paper, XIV. 242.
Marbois (Count), on Illinois, XII. 248.
Marburg, in Hesse, XIV. 242 ; XI. 287.
 , in Austria, XIV. 242.
Marcard on bathing, IV. 443.
Marcasite, XIV. 242.
Marcellianism, XIV. 242.
Marcellin, in France, XIV. 242.
Marcellinus (Ammianus), II. 657.
Marcellus (M. C.),XIV. 242, 243-de-
feat of Hannibal by, VI. 200—decoyed
and killed, 201—bis siege of Syracuse,
XXI. 57.
Marcet (Dr), his analysis of the water of
the Dead Sea, III. 704—on diseases of
the kidneys, XVII. 479, 481.
Marcet’s reflectors, XX. 19.
Marcgraaf on birds, XVI. 545.
Marcgraaviaceae, in botany, V. 101.
Marcgrave, XIV. 243.
March, month of, XIV. 243—garden¬
ing operations in, XI. 688.
 , English town, XIV. 244.
 of an army in war, XXI. 749.
Marchand (Prosper), XIV. 244—on the
origin and first progress of printing,
IV. 622.
 Island, XIV. 244.
Marche En Famine<XU. 244.
Marchers, XIV. 244.
Marchet, XIV. 244.
Marcian, Roman emperor, XIX. 422.
Marcionites, heretics, XlV. 244.
Marcites, heretics, XIV. 244.
Marco (St), city, XIV. 244.
 (General), VI. 541.
 Polo, XVII. 158.
Marcomanni, XIV. 244 ; X. 477.
Marcosians, sect, XIV. 245.
Marden, town in Kent, XlV. 245.
Mares, management of, in breeding, IL
318—milk of, VI. 499 ; XV. 76.
Mareca, bird, XVI. 639.
Marecean, island, XIV. 245.
Maree (Loch), XIX. 484.
JJaregorian, island, XIV. 245.
Marekanite, a mineral, XV. 157.
Marella, Hindu town, XIV. 245.
Marengo, Italian town, XIV. 215—
battle of, V. 495; X. 118.
Marennes, in France, XIV. 245.
Mareotis (Lake), VIII. 493, n.; 513.
Maresfield, in Sussex, XIV. 245.
Marets (Samuel des), XIV. 245—hi®
controversy with Alting, II. 570.
Margam, Welsh town, XIV. 245.
Margaret (St), martyr, XIV. 245,
 , queen of Denmark, VII. 721;
XVI. 259.
 , queen of England, VIII. 736-
 ,the Maiden of Norway, XIX. 70S.
 , queen of Norway, XXI. 13.
 , queen of Scotland, XIX. 700,
702, 704, n. 3.
INDEX,
99
MAR
Margaric acid, VI. 430.
JIaegaelta, island, XIV. 245.
Margaritone, painter, XVI. 708.
Makcate, in Kent, XIV. 24G.
Makgeeseebah, XIV. 246.
Marginella, mollusca, XV. 346.
JIargraaf on alum, II. 571.
Maegkave, XIV. 243.
Makia, island, XIV. 246.
  , canal of, in Russia, IV. 331.
■  , queen of Portugal, reign of,
XVIII. 472, 476.
 Theresa, reign of, IV. 220—her
government of Belgium, XVI. 121.
  (Santa), island, XIV. 246.
 (Santa Fe de), XIV. 246.
 Maggioee (St), XIV. 246.
Maeia’s Island, XIV. 246.
 Islands, XIV. 247.
Mariamne, XII. 572.
Marian Islands. See Ladrones.
Maeiana (John), historian, XIV. 246.
Marianini (Prof.), on the cure of palsy
by electricity, VIII. 641—on conduc¬
tors of electricity, XXI. 675—on vol¬
taic currents, 676.
Maeianna, city in Brazil, XIV. 247.
Mabias (Las Tees), islands, XIV. 247.
Maribone, XIV. 247 ; XIII. 537.
Maricaban, island, XIV. 247.
Marie, a French Capuchin, gave the first
notions of photometry, I. 637.
Maeiegalante, island, XIV. 247.
Marienburg, Saxon city, XIV. 247.
 , Prussian city, XIV. 247.
Marienwerder, XIV. 247.
Marietta, in Ohio, XVI. 330.
Marigold, XI. 675.
Marimonda, in zoology, XIV. 94.
Marindugera, island, XIV. 247.
Marine, XIV. 247. See Marines.
• Barometer, IV. 393 ; XX. 58.
Marineo, Sicilian city, XIV. 247.
Mariner’s account of the Tonga Islands,
XVIII. 323.
  Compass. See Compass.
Marines, XIV. 247; XVI. 51, 53, 62.
Marini, poetry of, XVIII. 161.
Marino (St), XIV. 247.
Marinus, Roman anatoriiist, II. 689.
 of Tyre, X. 396.
Marion (Captain), voyage of, IV. 205.
■  and Ceozet’s Islands, XIV.248.
Mariott (Mr), his patent dial weighing-
machine, XXI. 838.
Mariotte on barometrical measurements,
I. 542; IV. 3 j6—experiments and con¬
clusions of, I. 613—on the colours of
halos, VI. 634—on hydrodynamics,
XII. 2, 67 ; XlX. 256—his reflecting
level, XIII. 257—his theory of springs,
XX. 549.
Marisehal College, Aberdeen, XXI. 517.
Maritime, XIV. 248—Law, ib.
Maeitimo, island, XIV. 248.
Marios (Cains), XIV. 248 ; XVI. 306 ;
XIX. 391, et seq.—his defeat of the
Teutoncs, VI. 697. »
Marivaux (P. C. de C. de), XIV. 250.
Maeivelas, island, XIV. 250.
Mark (St), XIV. 250-Gospel of, 251.
Markets, XIV. 251; IX. 476—in Liver¬
pool, XIII. 393—in London, 507—in
Newcastle, XVI. 155. See" Fairs. '
Market-Bosworth, V. 29.
Market-Weighton, in Yorkshire, XXI.
840-canal, XVI, 16.
Markham (Gervais), on the qualities of
an angler, III. 133—his works, on
angling, 149.
Markirch, in France, XIV. 251.
Markland (Jeremiah), XIV. 251.
Marl, XIV. 252—its use as a manure,
II. 302—shell-marl, XV. 225.
Marlborough, in Wilts, XIV. 252.
 (Duke of). See Churchill (John).
Marlin, XIV. 252.
Marlow (Great),in Bucks, XIV. 252.
Marly, French town, XIV. 252—aque¬
duct of, III. 820.
Marmalade, XIV. 252.
Marmande, in France, XIV. 252.
Marmignac, XIV. 252.
MAR
Marmolite, specific gravity of, XII. 33.
Mabmontel (J. F.), XIV. 252 — his
Tales, XIX. 354—his character of
Voltaire, XXI. 702.
Marmot, XIV. 131—its hybernation, III.
168—its structure, XVII. 705.
Marmoutier, XIV. 255.
Marne, XIV. 255—Upper, 256.
Marobia, XV. 703.
Marobodus, X. 477.
Marocco, weights and measures of, XXI.
854.
Maronda, Hindu town, XIV. 256.
Marone-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 338.
Maronites, XIV. 256; XVI. 748.
Maroons, V. 478.
Marot (Clement), XIV. 256—poetry
of, XVIII. 164.
Marphysa, worm, XI. 219.
Marque (Letters of), XIV. 257 ; II. 157.
Marquesas, islands in tho Pacific Ocean,
XIV. 257; XVIII. 328.
Marquetry, XIV. 257.
Marquis, XIV. 258.
Marr, II. 29—Earl of, V. 374.
Marracci (Ludovico), XIV. 258.
Marriage, XIV. 258—jactitation of,
259—marriage and marriage-customs
in Abyssinia, II. 61-2—North Ame¬
rica, II. 620—Arabia, III. 335—Asia,
694—ancient Babylonia, IV. 271—
Cardiganshire, VI. 13S—ancient Ger¬
many, 596 — Dahomey, VII. 587—
Denbighshire, 717—Egypt, VIII. 528
— Hindustan, XI. 404 — Japan, XII.
516 —Java, 563—New Holland, IV.
209 — Siam, XX. 322 — Sparta, 528—
Tibet, XXI. 257—pairing of animals,
III. 168—among the Bazeegurs, IV.
468—conducting home of bride, V.
262—encouraged by the Romans, VI.
271—concubinage, VII. 197—misery
and happiness of married life, VIII.
101—proportion of marriages to the
population, in England, 800—English
law of, IX. 27—not contractible by
idiots, XII. 242—fluctuations in the
civil law respecting the marriage of
cousins, XIII. 357, n.—in relation to
medical jurisprudence, XIV. 493 —
nubile age, ib.—circumstances invali¬
dating, ib.—needs no encouragement,
509—Milton on, XV. 93, n.—duties
relating to, 471—Jewish law of, 565
prudential restraint on, a check to
population, XV11I. 4 15—dependence
of marriages on deaths, 417—propor¬
tion of births to marriages, 421—pro¬
portion of the born in England living
to marry, 423—effect of absence-of
prudential restraint, 425 — registra¬
tion of, XIX. 98. See Bigamy, Celi¬
bacy, Divorce, Love, Polygamy.
Marriage-act, royal, V. 395.
Marrow, II. 744 ; XVII. 598, 601.
Marryat (Capt.), his code of naval sig¬
nals, XX. 339.
Mars, planet, XIV. 259 ; IV. 28 —
Kepier on its motions. III. 739—phe¬
nomena of, IV. 14—parallax of, 24—
variations of its orbit, 59—atmos¬
phere of, XVIII. 105.
 , god of war, XIV. 259.
 , in chemistry, XIV. 259.
 , Hill of, in Athens, IV. 123.
Mars Hill, New Brunswick, XVI. 148.
Marsac, French town, XIV. 259.
Marsais (Cesar Chesneau Du), XIV.
259—on the alphabet, II. 550.
Marsala, XIV. 260 ; XV. 703.
Marsden (Mr), his attempt to Chris¬
tianize the New Zealanders, IV. 216
—on edible birds-nests, 646—on the
gypsies, XL 98—on rice, XIX. 234—
his account of Sumatra, XX. 802, et
seq.
Marseilles, French city, XIV. 260—
Greek colony at, VIII. 204.
Marsh (Narcissus), XIV. 263—on trans¬
lations of the Bible, IV. 620.
  (Mr), his electro-dynamic ap¬
paratus, XXI. 685, 686.
 . See Marshes.
MAR
Marshal, XIV. 263.
Marshall (Mr Sergeant), on average,
IV. 250-1.
 on the Coptic language, XI. 312.
 on agriculture. See the article
Agriculture, passim.
Marshalling a coat, in heraldry, XIV.
263; XI. 259.
Marshes, cultivation of, II. 313—their
effect on health, IV. 138 ; XIV. 511;
on climate, XVII. 544—quality of
timber grown in, XXI. 292.
Marshfield, English town, XIV. 263.
Marshman (Dr), on the Chinese language,
VI. 549.
Marsi, XIV. 263.
Marsiconuovo, XIV. 263.
Marsigli (L. F. Count de), XIV. 263.
Marsiliaceae, in botany, V. 37, 138—or¬
gans of reproduction of, 54.
Marsilli on birds, XVI. 546.
Marsland (Peter), his improvement of
the steam-loom, VII. 409.
Marson-town, Jamaica, XII. 501.
Marston-moor, battle of, V. 326.
Marsupialia, in zoology, XIV. 125—
bones of their pelvis, III. 7—their
pouch, 40—structure of, XVII. 705.
Marsyas, XIV. 264 ; VIII. 473.
Mart or Fair, XIV. 264. See Fairs.
Martel (Charles), X. 6.
Marten, in zoology, XIV. 109.
Martha (Santa), city, XIV. 264.
Martialis (Marcus Valerius), Latin
poet, XIV. 264.
Martin (St), bishop of Tours, XIV.
265 ; XXL 648.
 (Benjamin), XIV. 265—on the
fusee of watches, VI. 787—on capillary
attraction, XII. 40.
 (Dr), the first judicious writer
on heat, I. 642.
  (Gabriel), on the classification
of books, IV. 631.
 (General San), XVII. 298.
 (ST), island, XIV. 265.
 , bird, XVI. 578—anecdote of a
combination of martins against a spar¬
row, V. 617.
Martinet on birds, XVI. 549.
Martingale, XIV. 265 ; XI. 618.
Martinico, island, XIV. 265—long in¬
fested by ants, III. 239.
MartinsbErg, XIV. 266.
Martlets, XIV. 266 ; XI. PI. 277.
Martock, English town, XIV. 266.
Martyn on botany, V. 83.
 (John), VI. 314.
Martyr, XIV. 266.
Martyrs, era of, VI. 660.
Martyrology, XIV. 266.
Marvedi, coin, XIV. 242 ; XV. 400.
Marvejols, in France, XIV. 267.
Marvell (Andrew), XIV. 267.
Marviaux, novels of, XIX. 352.
Marwar, in Hindustan, XIV. 267.
Mary, seven persons of this name men¬
tioned in Scripture, XIV. 267.
 or Miriam, sister of Aaron and
Moses, XIV. 267.
 , mother of Jesus, XIV. 268.
 Magdalene, XIV. 270.
 , sister of Martha, XIV. 271.
 Salome, XIV. 271.
 , mother of John, XIV. 271.
 , a pious Christian, XIV. 271.
 , queen of England, VIII. 753—
execution of Cranmer, VII. 448—per¬
secution of Protestants, XIX. 9 6.
——, consort of William III. of Eng¬
land, V. 360—her death, 366.
 , queen of Scotland, XIX. 727—
Buchanan her tutor, V. 630—crimi¬
nality of, 630—Chalmers’s Life of,
VI. 309, 310—Edinburgh in the reign
of, VIII. 413—Elizabeth’s treatment
of, 756—Robertson’s history of, XI.
498 — Laing’s Dissertation on her
guilt, XIII. 23—Bishop Lesley’s ser¬
vices to, 235—Robertson’s opinion of,
XIX. 301—her residence at Sheffield,
XX. 197—Gilbert Stuart’s History
of, 783—Wm. Tytler’s Inquiry into
MAR—MAS
the Evidence against her, XXL 443-
Whitaker’s Vindication of, 871.
Mary of Guise, XIX. 727—her regency
in Scotland, 732, et seq.
—  (St), island, IV. 263.
Mary’s (St) Loch, XIX. 748.
Maryborough, XIV. 271; XVIII. 787.
Maryland, XIV. 271—canals in, XVI.
26; XXI. 472—railroads, 473—state-
bonds of, 479.
Mary-Le-Bone, XIV. 275 ; XIII. 537.
Maryport, in Cumberland, XIV. 275.
Marzion, in Cornwall, XIV. 275.
Mas (Louis Du), XIV. 275.
Masaniello, XV. 695.
Masarides, insects, IX. 230.
Masaris, insect, IX. 230.
Masaya, in Nicaragua, XVI. 202.
Masbate, island, XIV. 275.
Masbothaji, sect, XIV. 275.
Mascagni on the lymphatics, II. 703—
on adipose tissue, 715, 716—on erec¬
tile tissue, 726—on exhalation, 727.
Mascali, Sicilian city, XIV. 276.
Mascat, XIV. 276. See Muscat.
Mascheroni of Bergamo, mathematical
talents of, I. 585.
Mascle, in heraldry, XI. 252.
Masculine, XIV. 276—Signs, ib.
Maseres (Baron), services rendered to
science by,1.59 3—on annuities,III.200
Masina, in Africa, XIV. 276.
Masham, in Yorkshire, XIV. 276.
Mashing, in brewing, V. 240—in distil¬
lation, VIII. 44—mash-tun, V. 255 —
mashing machine, 256.
Mashwort highlyesteemedby the Druids,
VIII. 208.
Masinissa, Numidian king, XIV. 276 ;
VI. 202 ; XVI. 302.
Masks, XIV. 301—ancient scenic, III.
259—used by Greek actors, VIII. 145,
147, 150 ; by Roman actors, 152.
Maskelyne (Nevil), XIV. 277 — his
astronomical labours. III. 746—Ivis
micrometer, XV. 16.
Maskelyne’s Islands, XIV. 279.
Mason (Charles), IX. 549.
 (William), poet, XIV. 279.
 , engraver, IX. 54.
Mason’s improvements on Mover’s lunar
tables, HI. 751.
Masons, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Mason-bee, IX. 233.
Mason-work, V. 673.
Masonry (Free), XIV. 280.
  —, or art of building, XIV. 286.
See Building.
Masora, Jewish term, XIV. 301.
Masoretic points, XVII. 364.
Masque, in architecture, XIV. 301.
  , or Mask. See Mask.
Masquerade, XIV. 301.
Masrakitha, XIV. 301.
Mass, in mechcmics, XIV. 301.
 , in Romish Church, XIV. 301 ;
XX. 814—Mass of the Presanctifled,
XIV. 302.
Massa, Italian state, XIV. 302.
Massaccio, painter, XVI. 709.
Massachusetts, XIV. 302; XVI. 156
—canals, XVI. 24 ; XXI. 470—rail¬
roads, 472—state-bonds, 479.
Massagette, XIV. 307.
Massalians, enthusiasts, XIV. 307.
Massaniello, XV. 695.
Masse’s Island, XIV. 307.
Massena (General), V. 529.
Massilia, XIV. 307.
Massilon (Jean Baptiste), XIV. 3C7
—compared with Bourdaloue, V. 152.
Massinger (Philip), XIV. 310—his dra¬
matic works, VIII. 169.
Massive, in building, XIV. 311. ,
Massuah, Egyptian town, XIV. 311.
Masts, XIV. 311—building of, VI. 165
—use of cutting away, XX. 64—posi¬
tion of, 244, 248.
Mastacomblus, fish, XII. 186.
Master, XIV. 311—of the Militia, &c.,
ib., 312.
 of a ship, XIV. 312; XVI. 52.
Master-load, in mining, XIV. 312.
100
INDEX
MAS—MAT
Mastersingers of Germany, poetry of
the, XVIII. 167.
Mastic, specific gravity of, XII. 33.
Mastication, or chewing, XIV. 312 5
XVII. 581, 626.
Mastich, XIV. 312.
Masticot, yellow-lead, XIV. 312.
Mastiff, XIV. 312. See Dog.
Mastigadock, XIV. 312.
Mastigus, insect, IX. 147.
Mastodon of Buenos Ayres, V. 641.
 Giganteum. See Mammoth.
Mastoid cells, II. 801.
Masuli, island,.XIV. 312.
Masulipatam, XIV. 312.
Maswey, Hindu town, XIV. 312.
Matan, island, XIV. 312.
Mataquita, river, VI. 523.
Mataeam, Asiatic town, XIV. 312.
Mataro, Spanish city, XIV. 312.
Match, XIV. 312.
Mate, XIV. 312.
Matera city of Naples, XIV. 312.
Materia Medica, XIV. 312, 523. See
Medicines.
Material, XIV. 313.
Materialism, XIV. 671; XVII. 559,
674, 681—opposed by Leibnitz, I.
128—taught by Epicurus, III. 294—
Robert Hall on, XI. 115—not de-
ducible from phrenology, XVII, 460.
Materialists, XIV. 313;. I. 57—fal¬
lacy of their reasoning exposed, 58.
Mathematical Geography, X. 403.
Mathematicians, ancient, XX. 359.
Mathematics, XIV. 313 — ancient
works on, preserved in religious estab¬
lishments during the dark ages, I.
434—language of, must always con¬
sist of two parts, 445—Aristotle on,
III. 499—use of definitions in, XIII.
444—establishment of principles in,
ib —speculative and practical proposi¬
tions, ib.-—mathematical principles
how distinguished, ib.—utility of the
study of, in cultivating the power of
reasoning, 449—origin of, XVII. 563
—indispensable to the natural philoso¬
pher, 571. See Geometry, &c.
Mathon de la Cour, his addition to Bar¬
ker’s Mill, XXI. 806.
Mathos, VI. 194.
Mathulen of Lyon, on the quadrature of
the circle, XX. 554.
Matilda, queen of England, VIII. 716.
Matlock, in Derbyshire, XIV. 324—
springs at, VII. 736.
Matrice, or Matrix, XIV. 324.
Matricula, XIV. 324.
Matriculation at Oxford, XXI. 497.
Matronalia, festival, XIV. 324.
Matrosses, XIV. 324.
Matsmai, in Japan, XIV. 324.
Matsys (Quintin), XVIII. 796.
Matt, in a ship, XIV. 324.
Mattathias, Jewish patriot, XII. 570.
Matter, XIV. 324, 643 ; XVII. 559-
divisibility of, VIII. 70—existence of,
XIV. 649—distinguished from mind,
XVII. 559, 658, 674—qualities and
formation of, 798. See Idealism, Ma¬
terialism.
Matteucci on the electricity of the sun’s
rays, VIII. 607—his theory of hail,
622 ; and of sheet-lightning, ib.—his
phosphorus-electrdbieter, VIII. 659.
Matthew (St), evangelist, XIV. 325—
Gospel of, 324.
 (St), island, XIV. 325.
 de Gradibus, II. 693.
 of Paris, XVII. 82.
 of Westminster, XIV. 325.
Matthew’s (St) Day, XIV. 325.
 (St), Russian island, XIX. 590.
Matthews’s Bible, IV. 618.
Matthias (St), apostle, XIV. 325.
 (John), anabaptist, II. 679.
Matthias’s (St), Day, XIV. 325.
Matto-Grosso, in Brazil, XIV. 325.
Mat.ura, town in Ceylon, XIV. 326.
Maturin’s Montorio, XIX. 345.
Matvieief, island, XIV. 326.
Matwar, in Hindustan, XIV. 326.
MAT—MAY
Maty (Matthew), XIV. 326.
 (Paul Henry), XIV. 327.
Macbeuge, French city, XIV. 327.
Maud, daughter of Henry I., VIII. 716.
Manduit on birds, XVI. 549.
Maule, river, VI. 523.
Mauleon, in France, XIV. 327.
Maulinos of Chili, VI. 537—description
of their dress, 538.
Maumee, river, XVI. 326.
Maunch, in heraldry, XIV. 327.
Maundy Thursday,'XIV. 327.
Maupeouana, II. 676.
Maupertuis tP. L.N. de), XIV. 327 —
the first mathematician of eminence
who taught the Newtonian philosophy
in France, I. 577—on the laws of mo¬
tion, VIII. 366—on the length of the
degree, IX. 548—on mechanics, XIV.
354—his dispute with Voltaire, XXI.
701.
Maur (St), XIV. 329.
 (St), canal of, XVI. 6.
Maura, island, XIV. 329.
Mauriac, in France, XIV. 329.
Maurice (St), XIV. 329.
 (St), knights of, II. 581.
 — de Nassau, Prince of Orange,
XIV. 329; XI. 519, et seq.—his pro¬
ceedings against the Spaniards in the
Netherlands, XVI. 115.-
 of Nassau (Count), his adminis¬
tration in Brazil, V. 191.
Mauritania, XIV. 330 ; II. 503.
Mauritius, XIV. 331—weights and
measures of, XXI. 8.54.
Maurolycus of Messina, III. 288—his
contributions to mathematics, I. 436 ;
XIV. 316—distinguished for skill in
optics, 508;—formed a right judgment
of defects of short-sighted and long¬
sighted eyes, ib.—explained why light
admitted through a small hole of any
shape, and received upon a plane, is
always round, and through a large
one always of the shape of the aper¬
ture, 508—supposed that light ac¬
quires colour by refraction in pass¬
ing through the water-drop of the
rainbow, 509—on optics, XIII. 329 ;
XVI. 352.
Maurokordatus (Nicholas), XXI. 709.
Maurus (Raban), XIII. 292.
Mausoleum, XIV. 333—of Adrian, III.
447—of Augustus, ib.
Mawballypore, XIV. 333.
Maws (St), in Cornwall, XIV. 333.
Maxence, centre employed for the bridge
of, VI. 285.
Maxentius, XIX. 415.
Maxillary bones, in man, II. 776, 778—
in the mammalia, III. 5—in birds, 12.
 sinus, II. 785.
Maximian, reign of, XIX. 4l3.
Maximilian I., emperor, IV. 219.
Maximin, XIX. 415.
Maximinus, reign of, XIX. 411.
Maximum, XIV. 333.
Maximus, XIX. 419.
 , cynic, XIV. 433.
 , Roman emperor, XIX. 422 ;
VII. 279.
 of Tyre, XIV. 334—on the poly¬
theism of philosophers, XVIII. 340.
Maxwell (John), IV. 289,n.; XIX. 526,n.
——— (W. H.), quoted on deer-st Ik¬
ing, XX. 303.
 on agriculture, II. 262.
May, month of, XIV. 334—gardening
operations in, XI. 689.
 (Isle of), XIV. 334 ; IX. 766—
lighthouse on, XX. 25.
 (Thomas), poet, XIV. 334.
May-bug, destruction of, XXI. 682.
May-flies, their use in angling, III. 135.
Mayahoon, Burmese town, XIV. 334.
Mayenne, in France, XIV. 334,
 and Loire, in France, XIV. 334.
Mayer (Frederic-Christian), on the arith¬
metic of sines, II. 485.
    (John), of Hamburg, on ano¬
nymous books, IV. 627.
——■ (Tobias), XIV. 335—his lunar
MAY—MEC
tables, I. 579, 665 ; III. 751—changed
the sextant into a circle, and produced
the repeating circle, I. 633—his dip¬
ping needle, XIII. 768.
Mayer (Professor), on mean tempera¬
ture, VI. 746; XVII. 543.
Mayerne (Sir Theodore de), XIV. 337.
Maynooth, XIV. 337 ; XII. 714.
Maynwaring (Arthur), XIV. 337.
Mayo, Irish county, XIV. 337.
 , African island, XIV. 340.
 (John), his long beard, IV. 472-
 (Dr), on insanity, XIV. 584—on
the nerves of motion. XVII. 675.
Mayor, XIV. 340—Lord Mayor of Lon¬
don, XIII. 548.
Mayorga, islands, XIV. 340.
Mayow’s chemical discoveries IV. 514.
Maypu, river, VI. 523.
Maysville, in Kentucky, XII. 698.
Maza, XIV. 340.
MAZAGAN.in Africa,XIV. 340; XV. 506.
Mazagong, Portuguese village on the
island of Bombay, XIV. 340.
Mazamet, French city, XIV. 340.
Mazanderan, in Persia, XIV. 340.
Mazarin (Julius), XIV. 340 ; VII. 56 ;
X. 34—his enmity to the Prince of
Conde, VII. 201-3.
 Library, XIII. 305.
Mafatlan, Mexican port, XIV. 818.
Mazaya, XI. 19.
Mazeas on the colours of thin plates,
XVI. 432, 451.
Mazeira,-island, XIV. 343.
Mazeppa, XIX. 544.
Mazuear, island, XIV. 343.
Mazzara, XIV. 343; XV. 703.
Mazzoni, VII. 469.
Meaco, city in Japan, XIV. 343.
Mead, XIV. 343 ; IX. 498.
 (Dr Richard), XIV. 343.
Meade (General), VIII. 497.
Meadow, XIV. 344; II. 308—irriga¬
tion of meadows, XII. 446.
Meadowbank (Lord), kind of manure in¬
troduced by. III 303.
Meahimge, Hindu town, XIV. 344.
Meal, XIV. 344.
Meals, posture of the Greeks and Ro¬
mans during, II. 90.
Mean, XIV. 344.
Meangis Isles, XIV. 344.
Meanma, Persian town, XIV. 344.
Meanree, XIV. 344.
Meany, Hindu town, XIV. 344.
Meares (Captain), X. 263.
Mearns, Scotch county, XII. 720—sheep,
II. 330—fisheries, IX. 601.
Measure, XIV. 344, 345.
Measurement of brick-work, V. 672 —
stone-walling, 676—plaster-work, 681
— slater’s-work, 682 — carpenter’s
work, 686 —joiner’s work, 690 —
plumber’s work, 693—timber, XXI.
297. See Barometrical Measure¬
ments, Levelling, Mensuration, Ton¬
nage, Trigonometrical Survey.
Measures, XXL 840—Prussian, XVIII.
701—Russian, XIX. 564, w.—Dr Cum¬
berland on Jewish, VII. 540—pro¬
posed new‘system of, 680—tables of,
III. 544; XIV. 562; XXI. 850—
Roman foot, VII. 200.
Meat. See Dietetics, Food.
Meath, Irish county, XIV. 345—West¬
meath, XXI. 860.
Meaux, French town, XIV. 348.
Mecca, XIV. 534—taken.by the Waha¬
bis, III. 344 — recaptured by the
Turks, ib.—pilgrimage to, 338 ; XIV>
38—taken by Mahommed, 29; III. 342
—various notices of, 343, et seq.—
balsam of, IV. 322—indignities offered
by the Wahabis to Mahommed’s tomb
at, VIII. 501.
Mechain (P. F. A.), XIV. 459 ; I. 659
—measurement of a degree of latitude
by, ib.; IX. 550.
Mechanical, XIV. 348—Curve, ib.
 Philosophy, XVII. 565—a ma¬
thematical study, 571—useful to phy¬
sicians, XIV. 524.
MEC—MED
Mechanical Powers, XIV. 348—origin
of knowledge of, XVII. 563—electro¬
magnetism applied ns a, XXI. 687.
  — Solution, XIV. 348.
Mechanics, XIV. 349 ; XVII. 567—
—small progress made in the seienea
before end of 16th century, I. 474—
Guido Ubaldi, ib.—Stevinus, ib.—re¬
volution effected by Galileo, 475—
principle of virtual velocities enuiv.
ciated, 535 — Varignon’s Projet d'une
Nouvelle Mecanique, 535-6—Newton’s
Principia, 536 — improvements by
Leibnitz, ib. — force of moving body
estimated by Descartes and Leibnitz,
538—controversy which ensued, 539,
et seq.—principles relative to force of
moving bodies, 540—controversy as
to the vis viva, 541—problems solved
in times of Newton and Leibnitz, 542
contributions of Halley, 542-4—skill
of the Druids in, VIII. 207 —Aris¬
totle’s wheel, XIX. 489. See Car¬
pentry, Dynamics, Lever, Rotation,
Statics, Strength of Materials, Weigh¬
ing-Machines, &c.
 (Animal), XIV. 524.
Mechanics’ Institutions, XIV. 460—
importance of, VII. 415.
Mechlin, in the Netherlands, XIV. 462
—steeple of, III. 389.
Mechoacan, XIV. 4'62.
Meckel (J. F.), his anatomical labours,
II. 702 — his Manual, 704—on the
veins, 720 — on the lymphatics, 729
—on animal tissues, XVII. 596.
Mecklenburg, coast of, IV. 329—weights
and measures of, XXI. 854.
  Schwerin, XIV. 462.
 Strelttz, XIV. 462.
Meconic acid, VI. 430, 460—its poison¬
ous quality, XIV. 505.
Medals, XlV. 463—casting of, VI. 230,
232 ; by voltaic electricity, XXL 632
—Roman, XII. 292—Vaillant on, XXI.
537—Academy of Medals and Inscrip¬
tions at Paris, II. 75. See Coins.
Medallion, XIV. 488, 486.
Medea, XIV. 488.
Medeterus,'insect, IX. 277.
Media, XIV. 488 ; III. 685.
Median language, XIII. 82.
Mediasch, Hungarian city, XFV. 489.
Mediator, XIV. 489.
Medical Academies, II. 68.
 Electricity, VIII. 640.
 Jurisprudence, XIV. 490, 523.
 Legislation, XIV. 527.
 Police, XIV. 508 ; XVIII. 251.
 — Statistics, XIV. 522.
Mediceo-Laurentian Library, XIII. 310.
Medici (Cosmo de), XIV. 529.
  (Lorenzo de), XIV. 529 —
Roscoe’sLifeof, XIX. 473—encourage¬
ment of art by the Medici, XVI. 709,
Medicine, XIV. 513—study of, deve-
lopes the intellect, I. 101—effects of
anger on diseases, III. 128 — state
of, in Turkey, 615, n. 3—characters
of abbreviations in, VI. 323—chemi¬
cal theorists, 348—improved by the
Crusades,- VII. 495—druidical know¬
ledge of, VIII. 208—employment of
th'e magnet in, XIV. 2, et origin
of, XVII. 563—application of phy¬
siology to, 584 — superstitious no¬
tions connected with, XX. 812 —
Edinburgh school of, XXL 521. See
Disease, Health, Materia Medica,
Pathology, Physic (Practice of), Phy¬
siology, Veterinary Science.
Medicines, distinguished from aliments
and poisons, III. 166—effects of cus¬
tom on the operation of, VII. 561.
Medina, XIV. 530—pilgrimage to, III.
340—various notices of, 342, et seq.—
taken by the Wahabis, 344—recap¬
tured by the Turks, ib.—Mahommed
at, XIV. 28.
 , town in Bahrein, XIV. 530.
 Celt, Spanish town, XIV. 531.
Medina-de-las-Toeres, XIV. 531.
Medina-del-Campo, XIV. 531.
INDEX
101
MED—MET
Mebina-del-rio-Seco, XIY. 531.
Medina Sidomia, XIV. 531.
 Sidonia (Duke of), commander
of the Spanish Armada, VIII. 708—
shipwrecked on Shetland, XXI. 987.
 (Sir John), painter, XIV. 531.
 (Pedro de), his treatise on navi¬
gation, XV. 746.
Medine, Egyptian money, XIV. 531.
Medinet-Habou,antiquitiesat, VIII. 535.
Medinet-el-Fayoum, VIII. 545.
Mediolanum, XIV. 531.
Meditation, XIV. 531.
Mediterranean, XIV. 532.
 Sea, XIV. 532 ; I-X. 408 ; XVII.
520—Ptolemy on the, X. 395.
MedIteinalia, XIV. 532.
Medium, XIV. 532.
Medlar, culture of, XI. 649—specific
gravity of its wood, XII. 33.
Medrano (Don Mariano), V. 656.
Meduck, Hindu town, XIV. 532.
Medulla oblongata, XIV. 683 ; XVII.
660, 673, 675.
Medullary tissue of animals, III. 158.
 *— membrane of bones, II. 744.
 texture of plants, III. 61.
Medullin, VI. 480.
Medusa, Gorgon, XIV. 532.
 , in zoology, XVII. 518—struc¬
ture of, 722.
Medusides, zoophytes, XXI. 1013.
Medway, river, XIV. 532—its naviga¬
tion, XVI. 16—Medway and Thames
Canal, 19.
Medyn, in Russia, XIV. 532.
Meeanahs, VII. 564.
Meegheoung-Yay, XIV. 532.
Meer Cossim,- XI. 418.
Meerat, Hindu town, XIV. 532.
Meercasserai, in Bengal, XIV. 532.
Meeejaow, Hindu town, XIV. 532.
Meerman’s work entitled Origines Ty-
pographicoe, IV. 622.
Meerschaum, in mineralogy, XV. 148.
Megacephala, insects, IX. 112.
Megacephali, insects, IX. 276.
Megachile, insect, IX. 233.
Megacles, IV. 146.
Megaderma, in zoology,'XIV. 101.
Megaderus, insect, IX. 178.
Megale Polis, or Megalopolis, Arca¬
dian town, XIV. 532.
Megalesia, Roman feasts, XIV. 532.
Megalodontes, insects, IX. 218.
Megalops, fish, XII. 216.
Megalopus, insect, IX. 181.
Megalotis, in zoology, XIV. 117.
Megapodius, bird, XVI. 627.
Megara, XIV. 533; IV. 157; XI. 766
—war with Athens, IV. 144.
Megaric sect of ancient philosophers,
XVII. 341.
Mbgabis, in Greece, XIV. 533.
Megascelis, insect, IX. 181.
Megasthenbs, XIV. 533; III. 696.
Megatherion, bones of, found in Buenos
Ayres, V. 641. ,
Megiddo, town in Galilee, XIV. 533—
plain of, XVI. 743.
Megna, river, XIV. 533.
Mego, island, XIV. 533.
Mehedia, in Minorca, XV. 505.
Mehemmed Ali, viceroy of Egypt, II.
230—history of, VIII. 4<J5, et seq.—
his massacre of the Mamelukes, 498—
expedition against the Wahabis, III.
344; VIII. 499—army, 502—navy, 504
—conquest of Syria, ib.; XXI. 64-
tyranny there, 65—character and per¬
sonal appearance, VIII. 5-04-G—mer¬
cantile and manufacturing policy, 52 3,
et seq.—said to be a freethinker, 529
—wonderful improvement of Egypt
under, 530—his neglect of its anti¬
quities, 551, n. — his war with the
Turks, XXI. 417.
Mehindry, Hindu river, XIV. 533.
Mehwas, in Hindustan, XIV. 533.
Meifomius (John Henry), XIV. 533.
'—— (Henry), XIV. 533 : II. 700.
—  (Marcus), XIV. 533.
Meigle, vitrified fort at, IX. 757.
MEI—MEL
Meikle, inventor of the thrashing-ma¬
chine, VI. 720.
  (Mr), his instrument for mea¬
suring small intervals of time, VI.
784—on evaporation, IX. 431—his
experiments on the heat of air, XII.
119—on the dew-point, &c., 128.
Meiningen, XIV. 534; XIX. 666.
Meionite, XV. 153—sp. gr. of, XII. 33.
Meisenheim, XIV. 534 ; XI. 288.
Meissen, in Saxony, XIV. 534.
Mekran, in Persia, XIV. 534.
Mekka. See Mecca.
Mela (Pomponius), XIV. 536.
Melah, Hindu town, XIV. 536.
Melampus, soothsayer, XIV. 536.
 , poems of, XVII. 404.
Melancholic temperament, XVII. 696 ;
XXL 173.
Melancholy of men of sensibility and
genius, IV. 664.
Melancthon (Philip), XIV. 537; XIX.
93—his sanction of the peripatetic
doctrines, I. 16 ; III. 495—quoted on
moral distinctions, I. 20—approved of
the execution of Servetus, VII. 446—
on free-will, XX. 88.
Melandrya, insect,-IX. 166.
Melane-glance, XV.'170.
Melane-ore, XV. 160.
Melania, in conchology, XV. 348.
MelanippiDes, Greek poet, XIV. 537.
Melanite, in mineralogy, XV. 159—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 33.
Melanoplectic membrane, III. 24.
Melanopsis, in conchology, XV. 348.
Melanthacese, in botany, V. 135.
Melanthus, IV. 143.
Melapo, town in Anatolia, XIV. 537.
Melas (General), V. 495.
Melasis, insect, IX. 139.
Melasoma, insects, IX. 162.
Melastornace®, in botany, V. 109.
Melchisedec, XIV. 537.
Melchites, XIV. 537.
Melcomb-Regis, XIV. 539.
Meleager, fabulous hero, XIV. 539.
 , Greek poet, XIV. 540.
 , a Macedonian, XIII. 640.
Meleagris, bird, XVI. 606.
Melecta, insect, IX. 234.
Meles, in zoology, XIV. 107.
Meletians, sect, XIV. 540.
Meletius, II. 691.
Melfi, city of Naples, XIV. 540.
Melford (Long), in Suffolk, XIV. 540.
Meliacea, in botany, V. 103.
Meliboea, island, XIV. 540.
Melicerta, XIV. 540.
Meliese, in botany, V. 103.
Melier (Monsieur), on complication of
diseases, XVII. 492,
Melinda, XIV. 540 ; II. 232.
Melinum, XIV. 540.
Melipona, insect, IX. 237.
Melissa, XIV. 540.
Melissodes, insects, IX. 234.
,Melissus, philosopher, XIV. 540.
Melita, island, V. 618 — language of,
XVII. 374. See Malta.
Melite, IV. 124.
Melithreptus, bird, XVI. 589.
Melito, bishop of Sardis, XIV. 540.
Melitophili, insects, IX. 160.
Melitus, one of the accusers of Socrates,
XX. 446, 461.
Melkapoor, Hindu town, XIV. 540.
Melksham, in Wilts, XIV. 540.
Melle, in France, XIV. 541.
Mulling (Mr), his method of working the
valves of locomotive steam-engines,
XX. 651.
Mellinus, insect, IX. 230.
Mellite, in mineralogy, XV. 171.
MelJitic acid, VI. 428.
Melliturga, insect, IX. 234.
Mellone, IV. 248.
Melloni on heat, XI. 185—his thermo¬
electric pile, XXI. 698.
Melmoth (William), senior, XIV. 541.
 (William), junior, XIV. 541.
Melody, XIV. 541; XV. 619.
Meloe, insect, IX. 169.
MEL—MEN
Melograni’s blowpipe, IV. 714.
Melolontha, insect, IX. 158.
Melolonthides, insects, IX. 158.
Melon on political economy, XVIII. 268.
Melons, culture of, XI. 664.
Melonida, in botany, V. 48.
Melophagus, insect, IX. 293.
Melos, XIV. 542; IV. 158.
Melpomene, XIV. 542 ; XV. 603.
Melrose, XIV. 542 ; XIX. 513.
Melted bodies, electricity of, VIII. 603.
Melton Mowbray, XIV. 543.
Melun, in France, XIV. 543.
Melville (Andw.), XIV.543—M‘Crie’s
Life of, XIII. 662.
 — (Sir James), XIV.,553.
 (General), on Hannibal’s route
across the Alps, VI. 196, n.
 (Lord). See Dundas (Henry).
 Bay, XIV. 555.
  Island, in North America, X.
757—climate of, II. 613.
Melyrides, insects, IX. 145.
Melyris, insect, IX. 145.
Mem de Sa, V. 190.
Membracis, insect, IX. 204.
Membranes of human body, II. 702;
XVII. 581, 598—serous, 599 ; II. 754
—fibrous, XVII. 602—mucous, 607 ;
II. 751—synovial, 756—cerebral, 811
—mucus of serous, VI. 497.
Memecylese, in botany, V. 109.
Memel, Prussian city, XIV. 555; IV.
330-trade of, XVIII. 694.
Memmingen, Bavarian city, XIV. 556.
Memnon, XIV. 556; XI. 323.
 (statue of), VIII. 511, 536—sup¬
posed method of production of the
sounds from, XX. 613.
Memnonium at Thebes, VIII. 538.
Memoirs, XIV.,556.
Memory, XIV. 556, 613, 629—its im¬
provement in the blind, IV. 698-9—
Condillac on, VH. 204 — artificial,
XV. 308.
Memphis, in Egypt, XIV. 556 — archi¬
tecture of, III. 411—pyramids of, ib.
—ruins of, VIII. 547.
 , in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
Memphremagog, lake, XXL 603.
Mena (Juan de), poetry of, XVIII. 162.
Menaehanite, specific gravity of, XII. 33.
Memechmus, geometer, X. 424.
Menage, his Table-talk, II. C75.
Menai bridge, XXI. 8, 171.
Menam, river, III. 676.
Menancabow, XIV. 556.
Menander, Athenian poet, XIV. 557-
dramas of, VIII. 151.
Mbnandrians, sect, XIV. 537.
Menasseh (Ben Israel), XIV. 557.
Mendana (Alonzo de), his discovery of
Solomon’s Islands, IV. 213.
Mende, in France, XIV. 557.
Mendeli, in Irak Arabia? XIV. 557.
Mendelsohn (Moses), XIV. 538.
Mendes, Egyptian deity, XVI. 780.
Mendez (Alphonso), II. 53.
 Pinto (Ferdinand), XIV. 558.
Mendicants, or Begging Friars, reli¬
gious orders, XIV. 558.
Mendicity, XVIII. 367 — restraint of,
308—licensed, 370 — in Spain, XX.
522—association in Dublin for sup¬
pressing, VIII. 245. See Alms-giv-
ing: Charity.
Mendip Hills, XX. 475, 476.
Mendizabel, XX. 512.
Mendoza (General), XVI. 115.
 (Don Diego de), poetry of, XVIII.
162—his Lazaro, XIX. 351.
   (Francis), Portuguese Jesuit,
on aeronautics, II. 178.
 (Louis de), II. 53.
 ■, in La Plata, XVIII. 7.
Mendrisio, Swiss town, XIV. 559.
Mendyghaut, Hindu town, XIV. 559.
Mene, Chaldaic word, XIV. 559.
 , fish, XII. 189.
Menecrates, physician, XIV. 559.
Menedemus, philosopher, XIV. 559.’
Menehould (St), in France, XIV. 559.
Menelaus son of Atreus, XIV. 559.
MEN—MEL
Menelaus,astronomer, X. 426—on geo¬
metry, XIV. 315.
Menes, founder of the Egyptian empire,
XIV. 559 ; VIII. 461.
Meneses (Don Jorge de), Papua dis¬
covered by, IV. 210.
Menetor, Greek antiquary, XII. 291.
Mengin* (Felix), his account of the Wa¬
habis, III. 346, n.
Mengs (Raphael), painter, XVI. 716.
Menials, XIV. 559.
Menidaa, fishes, XII. 178.
Menilite, in mineralogy, XV. 157.
Menin, in Flanders, XIV. 559.
Menippean satire, XIV. 560.
Menippus, philosopher, XIV. 560.
Menispermaceie, in botany, V. 95.
Mennonites, XIV. 560 ; II. 680.
Menobranchus, reptile, XIX. 161.
Menology, XIV. 561.
Menopoma, reptile, XIX. 161.
Menou (Abdallah), V. 504.
 (General), VIII. 489, et seq.; X.
96.
Mensa, XIV. 561.
Mensals, XIV. 561.
Mensores, XIV. 561.
Menstrual, in physiology, XIV. 578.
Menstruation, XVII. 690.
Menstruum, in chemistry, XIV. 578.
Mensuration, XIV. 561; XVIII. 776.
See Measurement.
Mental Diseases, XIV. 578. See
Demoniac, Insanity, Brain.
Mental Philosophy, Bacon’s reflections
on, I. 32—its advancement accele¬
rated by the improvement of lan¬
guage, 39—Aristotle’s, III. 506—its
importance in reference to education,
VIII. 433, et seq.—cause of its imper¬
fection, XVII. 445—progress of, 561
—physiological explanation of ideas
and their association, 674—psycholo¬
gical relations of the sensorium, 680.
i See Ethical Philosophy, Metaphysics,
Mind, Moral Philosophy, Phrenology,
Brain, Ideas, Memory, &c.
Mentel, the thoracic duct observed by,
II. 698.
Mentelin, early printer, XVIII. 548.
Mentha, genus of plants, XIV. 578.
Mentor, XIV. 589.
Mentz, XIV. 589—was printing in¬
vented at ? IV. 622—early printing
at, 624 ; XVIII. 545.
Mentzel (Christian), XIV. 589.
Menu, XIX. 653.
Menugat, Turkish town, XIV. 589.
Menura, bird, XVI. 574.
Menuthis, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Menzies (Michael), his invention of the
thrashing machine, II. 262.
 on the botany of New Zealand,
V. 78.
Menzikoff (Alex.), XIV. 589; VI. 242.
Meotis, or Palus Maeotis, XIV. 589 ;
XIII. 677.
Mephitic, XIV. 589.
Mephitis, in zoology, XIV. 109.
Mephitis Fanem, XIV. 589.
Mequinez, town in Morocco, XIV. 589 ;
XV. 508.
Her, Hindu town, XIV. 590.
Herat, Hindu town, XIV. 590.
Merbat, Arabian town, XIV. 590.
Mercantile Law, XIV. 590.
  System of political economy,
VII. 163; IX. 445; XVIII. 262.
Mercator (Gerard), XIV. 591.
 (Marius), IV. 334.
 (Nicholas), XIV. 691.
Mercator’s Chart, X. 420 ; XV. 747,
774 ; XVIII. 057; X. PL 263.
 Sailing, XIV. 591; XV. 767.
Mercatorum Testum, XIV. 591.
Mercers’ Hall, London, XIII. 536.
Merchants, XIV. 591—their character,
VII. 169—unaccustomed to general
views, ib.—open to erroneous impres¬
sions, ih.—their opinion of the usury
laws, 175—health of, XIV. 510.
Merchant Maiden Hospital in Edin¬
burgh, VIII. 425.
102
INDEX
MEH
Merchant Tailors’ Hall, in London,
XHI. 535.
Merchet, fine, XIV. 591.
Mercia, XIV. 591; VIII. 703.
Mercura, Hindu town, XIV. 592.
Mercurial gauge of steam-engines, XX.
641.
 Letter-balance, XXL 83.9.
 Pendulum, XVII. 213.
Mercury, heathen god, XIV. 592—ca-
duceus of, V. 770. See Hermes.
 , planet, XIV. 592; IV. 27—
phenomena of, 13—variations of its
orbit, 58.
 , a metal, VI. 417—discovery of
congelation of, I. 643—mode of com¬
bining it with other metals, II. 585—
employed in the barometer, IV. 386,
et seq.; and thermometer, 393 ; XIV.
724; XXI. 237—method of comput¬
ing its depression in barometers, VI.
119—Hutchins’s experiments on de¬
gree of cold at which it freezes, 262—
salts of oxides of, 451—table of its
depression in glass tubes, VII. 29—
congelation of, 65; XIV. 724—specific
gravity of, XII. 33—its phenomena
in capillary tubes, 44 — its use in
destroying insects, 293—its poisonous
quality, XIV. 501—corneous, in mi¬
neralogy, XV. 144 — native, 165 —
mines of, 256 ; IX. 409—Haskins’s
quicksilver pump, XVIII. 718.
 , in heraldry, XIV. 592.
 Bay, XIV. 592.
 Trismegistus. See Hermes.
Mercy-Seat, XIV. 592.
Merdin, Turkish city, XIV. 592.
Mere, in Wilts, XIV. 592.
Meredith (Sir William), V. 395.
Meretrix, Roman courtesan,XIV. 593.
Merganser, bird, XVI. 639.
Merger, law' of, XIII. 195,
Mergui, IV. 247.
Mergus, bird, XVI. 639.
Meria, insect, IX. 229.
Morian (M. de), on Homer, XI. 544.
Mericarpium, in botany, V. 49.
Merida, Spanish city, XIV. 593.
 , in Colombia, XIV. 593.
 , in Mexico, XIV. 817.
Meriden, in Warwickshire, XIV. 593.
Meridian, XIV. 593; III. 754; X. 404
—of globes, 410.
  Circle, IV. 104.
Meridiani, gladiators, XIV. 593.
Meridional arc, determination of, XXI.
357, 361, n. 2. See Figure of the
Barth.
 Distance, XIV. 593—Parts, ib.
Merino-sheep in England, II. 263 ; VIII.
766—description of. III. 330 — Dr
Parry’s experiments in crossing Bri¬
tish breeds with, 335—wool of, XXL
920—spinning of merino-yarn in Glas¬
gow, X. 557.
Meriones, in zoology, XIV. 134.
Merionethshire, XIV. 593.
Merit and demerit, XIV. 692—Popish
doctrine of merits, XVIII, 405.
Merlin (Ambrose), poet, XIV. 594.
 , bird, XVI. 565.
Merluceius, fish, XII. 218.
Mermaid, XIV. 594, 169.
Merman, XIV. 169.
Mernitch, Hindu town, XIV. 594.
Merodach, XIV. 594.
Merodon, insect, IX. 275.
Merge, island, XIV. 594 ; IX. 379, 381.
Meromyza, insect, IX. 291.
Merope, XIV. 595.
Merops, bird, XVI. 592.
Merovseus, X. 2.
Merovingian dynasty, X. 2.
Merrick (James), on the Greek poet
Tryphiodorus, XXL 400.
Merrus, fish, XII. 169.
Merrythought, bone of birds, III. 13.
Merse, XIV. 595; IV. 597-8.
Merseburg, in Prussia, XIV. 595.
Mersenne (Marin), XIV. 595—his op¬
position to Pascal, IV. 387—on me¬
chanics, XIV. 351.
MER—MET
Mersey, river, XIV. 595 ; VIII. 760,
763 — Irwell navigation, XVI. 16—
Trent canal, 20.
 , island in Essex, XIV. 596.
Mertse, VI. 2.
Merthyr Tydvil, XIV. 596 ; X. 532.
Merton, town in Surrey', XIV. 596.
Merud, Hindu town, XIV. 596.
Meru-Shah Tehain, XIV. 596.
Mervile, French city, XIV. 596.
Meryx, insect, IX. 176.
Meschtschowsk, XIV. 596.
Mesembrina, insect, IX. 283.
Mesen, in Russia, XIV. 596.
MeiSenteric glands, XVII. 653.
Mesfagna, in Naples, XIV. 596.
Meshed Aei, XIV. 596.
Mesier Channel, XVII. 115.
Mesmerism, XIV. 6; XX. 477 ; IV. 290.
Mesn, or Mesne, in law, XIV. 596.
Mesocarp, in botany, V. 47.
Mesochovi, XIV. 596.
Mesolite, pyro-electricity of, VIII. 597.
Mesoporphvron, XIV. 596.
Mesopotamia, XIV. 596; IV. 280.
Mesoprion, fish, XII. 169.
Mesopterycius, fishes, XIV. 597.
Mesosperm, in botany, V. 50.
Mesotype, XV. 151—sp. gr. of, XII.
33—pyro-electricity of, VIII. 597.
Mesphres, XI. 322.
Mespilus, genus of plants, XIV. 597.
Mess, XIV. 597.
Messalina (Valeria), wife of Claudius
Caesar, XIV. 597; XIX. 402.
Messalonghi, siege of, in 1826, X. 750.
Messana, town in Sicily, XIV. 597.
Messanee (Monsieur), on the population
of France, XV. 515.
Messena, Greek town, XIV. 597.
Messengers-at-Arms, XI. 242.
Messenia, in Greece, XIV. 597.
Messiah, XIV. 597 ; VI. 620.
Messier (Charles), XIV. 597—on the
solar spots, III. 782.
Messina, in Sicily, XIV. 597—Fata Mor¬
gana in the Strait of, IX. 494—mas¬
sacre of the French in, XV. 695—
Strait of, 697.
Messuage, in law, XIV. 598.
Mestre, Italian town, XIV. 598.
Meta, in Roman circus, XIV. 598.
 , South American river, VII. 90 ;
XVI. 537 ; XXI. 592.
Metacarpal bones, in man, II. 788—in
mammalia, III. 8—in birds, 13.
Metacentre, XX. 240.
Metagitnion, XIV. 598.
Metals, XIV. 598—in chemistry, VI.
379, et seq.—in mineralogy, XV. 164
—alloy of, II. 529—annealing of, III.
196 — distinction between cast and
malleable, 197—recent decrease in the
supply of precious, VII. 162—notion
that these constitute wealth, 163—in¬
fluence of heat on the electric fluid in,
VIII. 599—fusion and oxidation of,
by electricity, 627—revival of oxides
of, 628—magnetic, XIII. 699—elas¬
ticity and cohesion of, XIV. 402—
modulus of torsion in, 403—friction
of metals on metals, 409 ; and on
woods, 410—native, XV. 164—veins
of, XVII. 507—strength of, XX. 756
—their tenacity increased by mixtures,
767—power of different,as conductors
of voltaic electricity, XXI. 675—fused
by galvanism, 677 — coloured rings
formed on, by voltaic currents, 680—
art of multiplying works of art in
metal by voltaic electricity, 682—con-
ductibility of, for thermo-electricity,
697. See Gold, Iron, &c.
Metallic colours, XV. 127.
Metallurgy, XIV. 598.
Metamorphosis, XIV. 598—of insects,
IX. 86.
Metaphor, XIV. 698; IV. 494.
Metaphrast, XIV. 598.
Metaphysical, misapplication of the term,
I. 228 — influence of metaphysical
studies, ib.
Metaphysicians,in all ages havediscussed
MET—MEX
the nature and essence of the soul, I.
57—of the 18th century, 114.
Metaphysics, XIV. 599—little advance
made in, before the 17th century, I.
20—progress of, in the 18th century,
227—change in the meaning of the
word since the publication of Locke’s
Essay, ib. — benefits resulting from
the study of, 228—the term affords a
specimen of all the faults which the
name of a science can combine, 294-—
Aristotle on, III. 499—speculative in¬
quiries of the Athenians, IV. 163—
much cultivated in India, V. 180. See
Mental Philosophy.
Metatarsal bones, II. 791.
Metatarsus in birds, III. 13.
Metastasio (P. B.), Italian poet, XIV.
702—his tragic operas, VIII. 157.
Metastasis, in medicine, XIV. 704.
Metellus, XIV, 704 ; XVI. 306 ; XIX.
391.
Metempsychosis, XIV. 704—a doctrine
of the Hindus, XI. 401.
Metemptosis, XIV. 705.
Meteor, XIV. 705.
Meteorolites, XIV. 705 ; XVII. 536
—one in Mexico, VIII. 288—M. Fusi-
nieri on the origin of, 621.
Meteorology, XIV. 717—proposed use
of balloons in, II. 195—influence of
mountains on climate, 610—rain most
abundant in elevated land, ib.—Leslie’s
atmometer, IV. 131—showers of mud
in Buenos Ayres, V. 642—electricity
of the atmosphere, VIII. 614—fire¬
balls and falling stars, IX. 587—great
hail-storm in France, X. 48—Har-
mattan wind, XI. 148—sea and land
breezes in Sumatra, XX. 802. See
Atmosphere, Barometer, Barometri¬
cal Measurements, Climate, Cold,
Cloud, Dew, Evaporation, Fog, Hail,
Hygrometry, Monsoon, Rain, Rain¬
bow, Snow, Spring, Wind, &c.
Meteoromancy, XIV. 751.
Meter (gas), X. 356.
Metessib, XIV. 751.
Metheglin, mead, XIV. 751.
Method, in logic, XIV. 751; XIII.
457.
Methodists, XIV. 751—their missions,
XIX. Ill—their origin, XXI. 859.
See Wesley, Whitefield.
Methuselah, XIV. 754.
Methven treaty of Great Britain with
Portugal, VII. 164.
Metius (Adrian), X. 429—on the mea¬
sure of the earth, XIV. 317—on the
quadrature of the circle, XX. 553.
 (James), alleged inventor of the
telescope, XVI. 354, 355.
Metoeci, XIV. 754:
Metonic cycle, in chronology. III. 728;
VI. 7, 653 ; VII. 573.
Metonymy, in rhetoric, XIV. 754.
Metope, XIV. 755 ; III. 468.
Metopius, insect, IX. 224.
Metoposcopy, XIV. 755.
Metre, in poetry, XIV. 755.
Metretes, Greek measure, XIV. 755.
Metrical Verses, XIV. 755.
Metkocomia, XIV. 755.
Metrodorus, Greek painter, XVI. 704.
Metronomii, XIV. 755.
Metropolis, XIV. 755.
Metz, in France, XIV. 755—aqueduct
of, III. 319.
Mecrsius (John), XIV. 755.
Meurthe, in France, XIV. 756.
Meusnier (Monsieur), his method of ad¬
justing balloons, II. 184.
Meusels, notice of his Bibliotheca Eisto-
rica, IV. 630.
Mevelavites, VII. 738.
Mew, XVI. 632.
Mewing, XIV. 756.
Mexicans, their character and appear¬
ance, II. 623—affinity with Asiatics,
634—tradition of the Deluge, VII.
699—picture-writing, XI. 296 —li¬
braries, XIII. 245—mythology, XV.
683-origin, XYII. 555.
MEX—MIC
Mexico, XIV. 757 ; II. 645—climate
of, 610, 613—mountains of, 614-
geology of, 614—civilization of, 622-
revolution in, 639—ancient architec¬
ture of, III. 412—army of, 616—
botany of, V. 77—castes in, VI. 222
—conquest of, by Cortes, VII. 378—
dancing in, 613—French trade with,
X. 190—mines of, XV. 260, 280—
table-land, XVII. 503 — heights of
mountains, 505—volcanoes, 514 —
lakes, 522—animals, 553—peopling
of, 555—weights and measures of,
XXL 854—map of, XIV. PI. 356.
See Mexicans.
 (Gulfof), XVII. 521—its dan¬
gerous navigation, XIV. 798.
 (New), XIV. 820.
Meyaiioon, Burmese town, XV. 1.
Meyer on law, XIII. 178.
 (Prof ),his theory of apparitions,
III. 301—his opposition to Dr Joseph
Black’s view of the nature of quick¬
lime, IV. 656.
Meynell’s system of hunting, XI. 742.
Meyringen, Swiss town, XV. 1.
Mezen, river, XIX. 565.
Mezerai (F. E. de), historian, XV. 1.
Mezieres, in France, XV. 1.
Meziriac (C. G. B. Sieur de), XV. 2.
Mezomorto, dey of Algiers, II. 508.
Mezuzoth, Jewish custom, XV. 2.
Mezzanine, in architecture, III. 468.
Mezzotinto Engraving, XV. 2 — on
steel, IX. 55 — invention of this art,
XIX. 522.
Mglin, in Russia, XV. 4.
Miami, river, XVI. 326.
Miana, Persian village, XV. 4.
Miargirite, VI. 459.
Miasse, Russian river, XV. 4.
Miasma, XV 4.
Miava, Hungarian town, XV. 4.
Mica, XV. 4, 146—depolarising power
of, XI. 187—specific gravity of, XII.
33—magnetism of, XIII. 709.
Mica-slate, in geology, XV. 189—metals
found in, 277.
Micah, prophet, XV. 4.
Michael (St), island, IV. 262.
 (St), in Missouri, XV. 304.
 (Mount), French prison, XV. 4.
Michael’s Mount (St), XV. 4.
Michaelis (John David), XV. 4.
Michaelmas, festival, XV. 4 — Oxford
term, XXI. 498.
Michaud’s History of the Crusades, VII.
488 ; XL 499.
Michel (St), order of, X. 216.
  Angelo Buonarotti, XV. 4—
ids architectural works. III. 426—his
style of painting, 646, 647 ; XVI. 711
—his genius, VIII. 181—-compared
With Raffaelle, XVI. 714—his sculp¬
ture, XX. 8.
Micheldean, in Gloucestershire, XV. 6.
Michell (Rev. John), his apparatus for
experimenting on the density of the
earth, VI. 263-4—on magnetism, XIII.
688—his artificial magnets, 756.
Miehelotti (Professor), on hydrodyna¬
mics, XII. 4, 68; XIX. 258; XXI. 790.
Michigan, North American state, XV.
6—state-bonds of, XXI. 479.-
 , lake, XVII. 522 ; XXL 455.
Michilimackinac, XV. 8.
Micipsa, XVI. 304.
Mickiewicz, Polish poet, XVIII. 214.
Mickle (William Julius), XV. 9
Micone, island, XV. 10.
Microbasis, in botany, V. 49.
Microeephala, insects, IX. 138.
Microcosm, XV. 10.
Microdactylus, bird, XVI. 617.
Microdon, insect, IX. 272.
Microgaster, insect, IX. 222.
Microglossus, bird, XVI. 603.
Micrography, XV. 10.
Micrometer, XV. 10—discovery of, by
Huygens, I. 496—Cavallo’s, VI. 254.
Micrommata, arachnides, III. 361.
Micropeplus, insect, IX. 138.
Micropeza, insect, IX. 287.
INDEX
103
MIC—MIL
Micropyle, in. botany, V. 50.
Microscope, XV. 27—wonders disclosed
by. III. 184—its great utility in science,
185 ; in anatomy, XVII. 728—micro¬
meters for, XV. 25—invention of,
XVI. 351, 356 ; I. 510—magnifying
power of, XVI. 395—glasses for, XXI.
169—application of microscopic ob¬
servations to physiology, XVII. 596.
Microscopic animals, III. 180—shells,
XV. 330.
Microstoma, fish, XII. 200.
Midas, XV. 58.
Middelburg, in Holland, XV. 58 —
settlement of the Brownists at, V. 604
—captured by the Prince of Orange,
XI. 516.
Middle Ages, intellectual darkness of,
I. 14—armies of, III. 595—drama of,
VIII. 153. See Chivalry, Crusades,
Feudal System, Masonry (Free).
  Comedy, VIII. 150.
 Island, XV. 58.
 Temple, XII. 282.
Middleburg, island, XV. 58; IX. 302.
Middlebdrgu, island, XV. 58.
Middleuam, in Yorkshire, XV. 58.
Middlesex, XV. 58—hay-making in,
II. 309—fisheries of, IX. 603.
 Hospital, London, XIII. 515.
 , American counties, XV. 61.
Middleton (Dr Conyers), XV. 61—ac¬
cused of plagiarism towards Bellen-
den, IV. 553—his quarrel with Bent¬
ley, 577—on the classification of books,
631, 632—on the miracles of the early
Christians, VI. 627—controversy ex¬
cited by his Inquiry into the Miracu¬
lous Powers of the Christian Church,
XXL 772.
 —(Captain), voyage of, XVIII. 219.
 (Sir Hugh), VIII. 680.
 , in Lancashire, XV. 58.
 (Sir Charles) Island, XV. 61.
 Cueyney, XV. 61.
Middlewich, in Cheshire, XV. 61.
Mid-Heaven, XV. 58.
Midhurst, in Sussex, XV. 62.
Midian, Arabian town, XV. 62.
Midlothian. See Edinburghshire.
Midnapoor, in Bengal, XV. 62.
Midship-Frame, XV. 62.
Midshipman, XV. 62 ; XVI. 53.
Midwifery, XV. 62 ; XIV. 527.
Mieza, in Macedonia, XV. 62.
Migdol, in Egypt, XV. 63.
Mignan (Captain), on the ruins of Ba¬
bylon, IV. 269.
Migration, XV. 63—of animals, XII.
305—of birds, XVII. 550. See Emi¬
gration.
Miguel (Dom), XVIII. 473.
—  (San), Mexican town, XIV. 818.
 (St),island, XV. 63.
Mihel, French town, XV. 63.
Mikhailow, XV. 63; XIX. 539.
Milan, XV. 63—Academy of Sciences
at, II. 69—Academy of ‘ Painting, 74
— cathedral, III. 422—government,
IV. 228—discovery of parts of the
Theodosian Code at, VI. 715—Napo¬
leon’s decree at, X. 149—coins of,
XV. 407, 410 — early printing at,
XVIII. 549.
Milazzo, XV. 65, 701.
Milbank Penitentiary, London, XIII.
529; XVII. 629.
Milbourn-Port, in Somerset, XV. 65.
Mildenhall, in Suffolk, XV. 65.
Mildew, XV. 65 ; II. 281.
Mile, XV. 65.
Milesia, insect, IX. 273.
Mileto, city of Naples, XV. 65.
Miletus, XV. 66—architectural re¬
mains at. III. 416.
Milford, town in Delaware, XV. 66.
Milford Haven, XV. 66 ; VIII. 763 ;
XVII. 183—dockyard in, VIII. 86.
Milhau, in France,'XV. 66.
Milichia, insect, IX. 291.
Milillo, Sicilian city, XV. 66.
Miliola, in conchology, XV. 345.
Military, XV. 66.
MIL—MIN
Military Academy at Woolwich, II. 78.
 College (Royal), II. 79.
  Discipline, XV. 66.
 Execution, XV. 66.
 or Martial Law, XV. 67.
 State, XV. 66.
  Tenures. See Feuda. System,
Chivalry, Knight.
Militello, Sicilian city, XV. 67.
Militia, XV. 67—British, V. 438-0—
of the United States, XXI. 480.
Militia-act, V. 526.
Milk, XV. 71;/XI. 574-5; XVII. 693
—effect of regular milking on quantity
of, II. 653—organs of secretion of,
827—chemical composition and pro¬
perties of, VI. 498 ; XVII. 650—cow’s,
VI. 498 — human, 499—ass’s, ib.—
goat’s, ib.—ewe’s, ib.—mare’s, ib.—
sugar of, VIII. 44—specific gravity of,
XII. 33. See Dairy.
 of vegetables, XV. 76.
Milk-teeth, II. 781.
Milky Way, IV. 48.
Mill (James), XV. 77—in treating of
benevolence, has overlooked the de¬
light from virtuous conduct, I. 380—
his theory of government, 385 — on
Education, ib.—on Sanscrit poetry, V.
179—on British India, XI. 427—his
defence of commerce, XVIII. 279—on
taxation, XXI. Ill, et seq.
 (John), XV. 80.
 (Walter), XIX. 733.
Mills, XV. 76—slow improvement of,
III. 643—water, XII. 82 ; XIV. 349;
XXI. 799—hand, XIV. 350—wind,
350, 352, 432—thrashing, 418, 431-
tread, 430, 513—Roman, 350—strain
produced by twisting, XX. 777. See
Millstones, Steam-engine.
Millar (James), M.D., XV. 80.
 (Prof.), on castes, VI. 221—on
Adam Smith’s lectures, XX. 415.
  (Lady), on Corregio’s pictures,
II. 521.
Mille Passus, or Millia Passuum, Ro¬
man measure, XV'. 81.
Milledgeville, X. 470.
Millenarians, XV. 81.
Millennium, XV7. 81.
Milleporidae, zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Miller (Patrick), of Dalswinton, his
steam-boat, X. 549; XX. 687, 689.
Millers, diseases of, XIV. S10.
Miller’s thumb, fish, XII. 173.
Millesimo, defiles of, X. 100.
Milliare. See Mille Passus.
Milliarensis, coin, XIV. 475.
Milliarium Aureum, XV. 84.
Milliner, XVi 81—diseases of milli¬
ners, XIV. 510.
MIllot (C. F. X.), historian, XV. 84.
Millstones, XV. 81—rock of the Abbey
Craig, near Stirling, well fitted for,
VI. 721.
Millwrights’ Tables, XII. 90.
Milman on Homer, XI. 544, 546.
Milne (Mr), on Annuities and Assur¬
ances, III. 200; XV. 524, 547.
Milo (T. Annius), XV. 84.
 , island, XV. 85.
Miltiades, XV. 85 ; IV. 150.
Miltogramma, insect, IX. 282.
Milton, town in Kent, XV. 85.
 (John), XV. 86—Bentley’s edi¬
tion of the Paradise Lost, IV. 577—
on the censorship of the press, IV.
628—his garden of Eden, X. 321—
Lauder’s charge of plagiarism against,
XIII. 120-poetry of, XVIII. 144,170
—liis opinion of Shakspeare, XX. 172
—Waller on the Paradise Lost, XXI.
726—Warton’s edition of his minor
poems, 781.
Milverton, in Somerset, XV7. 108.
Milvus, bird, XVI. 563.
Mimesis, in rhetoric, XV. 108.
Mimi, XV7. 108.
Mimnermus, poet, XV. 108.
Mina, coin, XV. 108 ; XIV7. 468.
 (Don Xavier), XIV7. 788; XX.
508, 509, 512.
MIN
Mina, Arabian town, XV. 108.
Mina-bird, XVI. 573.
Minagnghinim, XV. 108.
Minas Geraes, in Brazil, XV7. 108—po¬
pulation of, V. 202.
Minasi on Fata Morgana, IX. 494.
Mincha, XV. 111.
Minchinhampton, XV. 111.
Mind, XIV. 670; XV. 457—phenome¬
na of, entirely different from those of
matter, I. 10—relation between them,
124-5 ; XIV. 579 ; XVII. 658, 674 —
mistaken application of the word sub¬
stance to, J. 242-3—Aristotle on the,
III. 506—improved by bodily train¬
ing, VIII. 25—effect of physical cir¬
cumstances on the, 440—its influence
on the body, XIV. 514, 516—its con¬
nexion with the brain, 582 ; XVII.
454, 673 —its immateriality, XIV.
671; XVII. 559 ; XXI. 213 -know¬
ledge of it how attained, XVII. 558—
distinguished from matter, 559—ele¬
mental, 560—of brutes, V. 616 ; XI.
697. See Ethical Philosophy, Me¬
taphysics, Mental Diseases, Mental
Philosophy, Moral Philosophy, Phre¬
nology, Brain.
Mindanao. See Magindanao.
Minden, XV. Ill—battle of, V. 419.
Mindoro Isle, XV. 111.
Mineral waters, XVII. 527—in Cuba,
VII. 525—Derbyshire, 736—Devon¬
shire, 745—Down, VIII. 132—near
Dublin, 235—Leamington, XXI. 782
—Malvern, 940—Moffat, VIII. 262—
Nassau, XXI. 93—Spa, XX. 489—
Switzerland, XXI. 47-Teflis, 134—
Tunbridge, 402—Wiirtemberg, 946.
See Baths, and the geographical arti¬
cles generally.
Mineralogy, XV. 112—use of the blow¬
pipe in, IV. 713, 714. 716—crystalliza¬
tion, VII. 505—Dolomieu’s classifica¬
tion of minerals, VIII. 98—Egyptian
granite, syenite, &c., 517—table of
hardness of minerals, XI. 145—Hauy
on, 169. See Geology.
Minerals do not grow, III. 156—active
molecules found in, 192 — Bayen’s
mode of analyzing, IV. 465—pyro¬
electricity of, VIII. 571, 595—elec¬
tricity of, 579—electricity produced
by pressure on, 600; and by cleav¬
age, 601—phosphorescent effects of
electricity on, 633-6—origin of veins
in, XV. 239.
Miners, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Minerva, XV. 241.
Minervalia, festivals, XV. 241.
Minervino, XV. 241.
Mines, XV. 241—of America, II. 646—
the Andes, III. 117—Austria, V. 7—
Ava, IV. 241—Bolivia, 748, 754—
Brazil, V. 192-3-4, 199, 207—Caer¬
narvonshire, 773—Cardiganshire, VI.
137—Carintkia, 142—Chili, 528—
Cornwall, VII. 367—Cuba, . 525—
Cumberland, 537—Derbyshire, 735—
Devonshire, 745—St Domingo, VIII.
103—England, 767—France, X. 178
—ancient Greece, VII. 159—Hun¬
gary, IV. 230; V. 7—Iceland, XII.
148—Illinois, 248—Illyrium, 252—
Ireland, 394—Italy, 489—Jamaica,
498—Japan, 512—Nubia, VII. 159
—ancient Rome, ib. — Russia, XIX.
567, 587^—Siberia, XX. 327—ancient
Spain, 492 ; XII. 494—modern Spain,
XX. 518—Sweden, XXI. 31—Tibet,
256—Transylvania, 346—the United
States, 454—ancient mines, VII. 159
—temperature of, VI. 750; XV. 176—
colonization with the object of profit
from, VII. 122—damps in, 611—cir¬
culation of air in, XVIII. 126—ex¬
traction of noxious air from, 129—
application of Hero’s fountain to the
draining of, 135—ebullition in, XX.
574. See the geographical articles
generally; also Collieries, Mining,
Gold-mines, Iron-mines, &e.
I Mingarelli on Coptic, XI 315
MIN—MIS
Mingehew-tea, XXL 131.
Mingrelia, XV. 268—coast of, IV. 661.
Minho, river, XV. 268 ;. XX. 516.
Miniature, XV. 268—Painting, ib.
Minim, in music, XV. 275.
Minims, religious order, XV. 275.
Minimum, in geometry, XV. 275.
Mining, XV. 275—blasting, IV. 675 ;
V. 6—powder for, XI. 78—expedi¬
tious methods for obtaining the re¬
sults of cases of complicated direc¬
tions, VIII. 363. See Mines.
Minion-type, XXI. 436.
Mink, in zoology, XIV. 109.
Minnesingers, poetry of the, XVIII. 166
Minnin, XV. 281.
Minnow, XII. 199—angling for. III. 147.
Minor, XV. 281.
Minorca, XV. 281—conquered by the
French in 1756, V. 383—captured by
the British in 1798, V. 486—weights
and measures of, XXI. 854.
Minors, or Friars Minor, XV. 282.
Minos, XV. 282 ; VII. 463—his laws,
ib.—Minos the warrior, 464.
Minotaur, XV. 282.
Minsk, in Russia, XV. 282.
Minster, XV. 282.
Minster-in-Sheppy, XV. 282.
Minstrel, XV. 282; XIX. 322, et seq.
Mint of Great Britain, XV. 284 ; VII.
32, XIII. 503—assaying at the, HI.
710—new constitution of the, VII. 38
—routine of its business, 44.
 of Bogota, IV. 734.
Minturn,e, XV. 284.
Minucius, his campaign against Hanni¬
bal, VI. 193.
Minuet, dance, XV. 284.
Minute, XV. 284—of a circle, ib.; XXI.
370.
Minyhj, XV. 284.
Miorchinus, insect, IX. 174.
Miprision, XVIII. 738.
Miquelettes, XV. 284.
Mirabeau (V. R., Marquis de), XV.284
—his.connexion with Cabanis, V. 763
with Dumont, VIII. 265, 266.
1 (H. G. R., Comte de), XV. 285;
X. 41, et seq.—1 is death and charac¬
ter, 59.
Mirabello, in Candia, XV. 293.
Miracles, XV. 293; XI. 488—marvel¬
lous victory of the Thundering Le¬
gion of Antoninus, III. 271—healing
at the Pool of Bethesda, IV. 603—
evidence of Christianity from, VI. 621
—possible events, 623—of the early
Christians, 627 ; II. 602; XXI. 772—
pretended miraculous cures, XIV. 9—
conversion of St Paul, XVII. 151, n.
12. See Quakers, XVIII. 768.
Mirage, IV. 608 ; XIV. 750 ; XV. 698.
Miramichi, river, XVI. 148.
Miranda (General), V1T. 95, et seq.
Mirande, in France, XV. 296.
Mirandola, XV. 297 — John Pica,
Prince of, XVII. 735.
Mirbel (Mons.), on vegetable anatomy,
III. 45, et seq.—on the ovulum and
nucleus of plants, V. 46, note 2; 47 ;
51, note.
Mirecourt, in France, XV. 297.
Mirepoix, French city, XV. 297.
Mirgorod, in Russia, XV. 297.
Miriam, XIV. 267.
Mirim, lake, XIX. 245.
Mirrors, XV. 297 ; XIII. 566; XVI.
378, et seq.—divination by, VI. 249
—colours of, 639—spherical aberra¬
tion of, XVI. 399—colours of concave,
446—cylindrical, 513—burning-mir¬
rors, V. 725—lighthouse-mirrors, XX.
18—mirror-metal, VI. 416, 423.
Mirzapore, Hindu town, XV 297.
Misadventure, XV. 297.
Misanthropy, XV. 297.
Mischna, XV. 297.
Miscopus, insect, IX. 229.
Miscou, island, XVI. 148.
Misdemeanour, XV. 298; XVIII. 7
Mise, in 'aw, XV. 298.
Miselar, island, XV. 298.
0
104
INDEX,
MIS—MOC
Misenom, XV. 298, 698.
Miser, XV. 298.
Misericordia, in law, XV. 298.
Misery lessened by custom, VII. 560.
Misfeasance, XV. 298.
Misitra, Greek city, XV. 298.
Misletoe, III. 56—revered and valued
by the Druids, VIII. 208.
Misnomer, in law, XV. 298.
Misprisions, in law, XV. 298.
Missal, XV. 298.
Misselemieh, XX. 95.
Missel-thrush, XVI. 572.
Missenden, in Bucks, XV. 298.
Missio, XV. 298.
Mission, XV. 298. See Religious Mis¬
sions.
Mississippi, river, XV. 300; III. 675 ;
XVII. 524 ; XXI. 182, 455—its na¬
vigation, II. 614; XVI. 27—its inun¬
dations, XVII. 525—no tide in, XXI.
282—source of, 905.
• Scheme, XIII. 148.
  State, XV. 298—railroads in,
XXI. 474—state-bonds of, 479.
 (Valley of the), XV. 300;
XVII. 501; XXI. 451—its climate,
II. 613.
Missouri, American state, XV. 301.
 Territory, XV. 304.
  River, XV. 305 ; XVI. 27 ;
XXI. 455-6—steamboats on the, 469
—plain of the, XVII. 501.
Mist XVII. 535. See Fog.
Misterbianco, in Sicily, XV. 305.
Misterton Carr, trigonometrical base on,
XXI. 357
Mistretta, in Sicily, XV. 305.
Mitcham, village in Surrey, XV. 305.
Mitchell (James), his attempt to assassi¬
nate Archbishop Sharpe, V. 350—his
execution, 351.
  (James), a blind and deaf boy,
VII. 659.
 (Major), his discoveries in New
South Wales, XXI. 714.
 on tactics, IX. 713, n.
Mitchell’s patent ropes, XIX. 466-7.
Mitchelstown, in Ireland, XV. 305—
caves near, XXI. 313.
Mite, coin, XV. 305.
Mites, insects, IX. 173—generation of,
III. 162—their tenacity of life, 163.
Mitford’s History of Greece, VII. 114.
Mithras, Persian god, XV. 306—feasts
of, ib.—mysteries of, 661.
Mithridates, XV. 306 ; III. 574 ; VI.
126; XVII. 100; XVIII. 348, 349 ;
XIX. 393, 395.
Mitra, Roman cap, XV. 306.
 , in conchology, XV. 346.
Mitre, XV. 306.
Mitre Island, XV. 307.
Mitres, in heraldry, XI. 257.
Mitscherlich (Professor), his optical ex¬
periments, XVI. 485.
Mittaire (Michael), his Typographical
Annals, IV. 624.
Miptau, Russian city, XV. 307.
Mittimus, XV. 307.
Mitweida, German city, XV. 307.
Mitylene, city in Lesbos, XV. 307-
war with Attica, IV. 144.
Mitzraim, VIII. 459. See Mizraim.
Mixture, XV. 307.
Mizen, XV. 307.
Mizraim, XV. 307; VIII.459;XVII. 376.
Mnemonics, XV. 308.
Mnemosyne, XV. 309.
Mnestheus, king of Attica, IV. 143.
Mneuis, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Moa Isle, XV. 309.
Moab, XV. 309.
Moat, XV. 310.
Moatazalites, XV. 310.
Mobile, XV. 310—Primum, ib.—Per-
petuum; see Perpetual Motion.
 , in America, XV. 310 ; II. 371.
Mocha, Arabian sea-port, XV. 310;
III. 341—weights and measures of,
XXI. 854.
 —> Chilese island, XV. 311.
Mock-sun, XIV. 750.
MOC—MOL
Mocking-bird, XVI. 572.
Mockwanpore, XV. 311.
Modain (Ul), XV. 311.
Modania, XV. 311.
Modbury, town in Devon, XV. 311.
Mode, XV. 311—in grammar, X. 660,
662, 691—in music, XV. 610.
Model, XV. 311.
Modeller, V. 692.
Modena, XV. 313—Academy of Arts at,
II. 74—coins of, XV. 410—weights
and measures of, XXI. 854.
Moderator, or president, XV. 314.
Modern, Hungarian city, XV. 314.
Moderni (Carlo), XIX. 431.
Modestus, VII. 276.
Modesty, XV. 314—the blind deficient
in, IV. 699.
Modica, in Sicily, XV. 314.
Modillion, XV. 314 ; III. 468.
Modiola, in conchology, XV. 344.
Modius, Roman measure, XV. 314.
Modulation, XV. 314—in music, ib.;
XV. 634.
Module, XV. 314 ; III. 468.
Moehsen (Dr), on mortality, XV. 516.
Moen, island, XV. 314.
Moeris, Egyptian lake, VIII. 463—Hero¬
dotus’s description of, 550—present
state of, ib.
Moez Ledenillah, his conquest of Egypt,
VIII 478.
Moffat, in Dumfriesshire, XV. 314—
mineral wells of, VIII. 262.
Moffeta, II. 670.
Mogadore, in Morocco, XV. 314.
Mognano, in Naples, XV. 315.
Mogoo, in Persia, XV. 315.
Mogul Empire, III. 688-690 ; XI. 406,
409—taxation of, 441.
Moguls,'XV. 315; XI. 482.
Mohair, XV. 319.
Mohammed. See Mahommed.
 II., Turkish emperor, XXL 411.
 III., of Turkey, XXL 412.
 IV., of Turkey, XXI. 413.
  V., of Turkey, XXI. 413.
 Ali. See Mehemmed.
 Kusruf, VIII. 494.
Mohammed-Ebn-Abd-ol Wahab.III. 344.
Mohawk, river, XV. 519.
Moheau (Monsieur), on the population
of France, XV. 517.
Mohilew, in Russia, XV. 319.
Mohurbunge, in Hindustan, XV. 320.
Moidore, Portuguese coin, XV. 320.
Moira, Irish town, XV. 320.
 (Earl of), V. 475.
Moissac, in France, XV. 320.
Moivre (Abraham de), XV. 320 ; I.
695—on annuities, III. 198. See De-
moivre.
Mola, Neapolitan city, XV. 320.
   Salsa, XV. 320.
Molanus, V. 25.
Molar teeth, in man, II. 780—in the
lower animals, III. 34.
Molasses, XV. 378.
Mold, Welsh town, XV. 320 ; IX. 622.
Moldavia, XV. 820—weights and mea¬
sures of, XXI. 854.
Mole, XV. 321.
 , an animal, XIV. 104; XXI.
600—destruction of, 601—its sca¬
pula, humerus, and carpus, III. 8—-
peculiarities of its muscles, 19 —
drains injured by, VIII. 139—struc-
tureof, XVII. 704—mole-skins, X. 266.
 , river, XX. 847.
Mole-cricket, IX. 192.
Molecules, active or animated, III. 192.
MoLFETTA.in Naples, XV. 321.
Moliere (J. B. P.), XV. 321—his co¬
medies, VIII. 166.
Molinesia, fish, XII. 199.
Molineux (Samuel), his observations on
the aberration of light, II. 33.
Molinists, sect, XV. 323.
Molinos, Spanish priest, XVIII. 792.
Molinosists, sect, XV. 323.
Molise, in Naples, XV. 323.
Moliterno, in Naples, XV. 323.
Moll (Prof.), his electro-magnet, XIII.
MOL—MON
761—on the invention of the tele¬
scope, XVI. 354.
Mollusca, XV. 324; II. 706 ; IX. 94;
XVII. 586—their organs of smell,
III. 21—eyes, 23—nervous system,
32—structure, 172—Lamarck’s im¬
proved classification of, 170—charac¬
teristics and classes of, 178, 179 —
some kinds used as food, IX. 727—
physiology of, XVII. 718.
Molluscan polypes, XXI. 1021.
Moloch, pagan god, XV. 378—sacri¬
fices to, XIX. 606.
Molossi of Epirus, XV. 378.
Molossus, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Moltengrease, XXI. 626.
Molton (South), in Devon, XV. 378.
Molucca Isles, XV. 378—language of,
XIII. 92—serpents, XX. 137.
Moluris, insect, IX. 164.
Molybdena, in mineralogy, XV. 169—
specific gravity of, XII. 33.
Molybdenum, in chemistry, VI. 389 —
salts of oxides of, 454.
Molybdic acid, VI. 389—salts of, 454.
Mombas, African city, II. 232.
Momigny on Haydn’s imitative music,
XV. 641.
Momus, XV. 378.
Mona, XV. 378; XIV. 210 ; XIX.
403—attacked by Suetonius Paulinus,
V. 299 ; and by Agricola, ib.—Druids
in, VIII. 203.
• and Monita, islands, XV. 379.
Monaco, XV. 379.
Monads, Leibnitz on, I. 130, 255.
Monadelphia, XV. 379.
Monaghan, Irish county, XV. 379.
Monandria, XV. 381.
Monarchy, XV. 381; X. 624—Aris¬
totle on, III. 527—Fifth Monarchy
Men, XV. 382.
Monas, genus of animalcules, III. 186.
Monasa, birds, XVI. 598.
Monasterevan, XV. 382.
Monastery, XV. 382—St Dunstan’s
exertions in favour of monasteries,
VIII. 285—chronicles written in, VII.
495—many erected by King Edgar,
VIII. 705—suppression of, in Eng¬
land, 747—at Jerusalem, XII. 551—
transcription of MSS. in, XIII. 291.
Monastic, XV. 382.
Monaul, bird, XVI. 606.
Monavar, Spanish town, XV. 382.
Monboddo (Lord), on reason and in¬
stinct, XII. 296, n.; 297, n.; 300, n.
See Burnet (James).
Monclova, Mexican town, XIV. 819.
Monday, origin of the word, XVIII. 337
Mondino’s anatomical researches, II. 692.
Mondovi, in Piedmont, XV. 382.
Monedula, insect, IX. 229.
Monetarius, XV. 382.
Money, XV. 383—ancient, XIV. 467—
ancient Egyptian, VIII. 466 — mo¬
dern Egyptian, 524—Irish, XII. 411
—of Madras, XIII. 673—Maltese,
XIV. 66 —Roman, XII. 292 ; XIV.
463, et seq. ; XV. 397; XX. 159
—Spartan, XX. 530—Aristotle on,
III. 529—a country no richer by
keeping, VII. 123—effect of the in¬
crease of the precious metals on
productive industry, 159—effect of
bank-notes on prices, 160—notion
that money constitutes wealth, 163—
lending-houses, XIII. 228—errors re¬
specting, XVIII. 262. See Coin, Cur¬
rency, Medals, Paper-money, Avarice.
MoNFALOUT.in Egypt, XV. 413.
Monfia, island, XV. 413.
Monflanquin, French city, XV. 413.
Monge (Gaspar), XV. 413 ; I. 585—on
the attraction of floating bodies, XII.
46—on drops, 50—on the arch, XIV.
299, n.
Monghir, in Hindustan, XV. 415.
Mongolia, in Asia, XV. 415.
Mongolian variety of man, II. 709;
XIV. 199, 200; XVII. 554, 697, 698
—its branches, II. 710—Mongolian
skull, 784. See Mongols.
MON
Mongols, XX. 327 ; XXL 86—their
language, XIII. 91. See Mongolian,
Mongrel dogs, XX. 310.
Monimiese, in botany, V. 129.
Monishwar, Hindu town, XV. 415.
Monitor, reptile, XIX. 138.
Monjous, African race, XV. 415.
Monk (George), Duke of Albemarle,
XV. 416—his proceedings in reference
to the restoration of Charles II. V.
340—his recommendation of Lord
Stair to Cromwell, VII. 596.
Monks, XV. 415 ; XI. 495—their ser¬
vices to learning, X. 429 ; VII. 495 ;
XIII. 291—their hymns, XVIII. 157,
Monkeys, XIV. 92—voice of, III. 28—
structure of, XVII. 703—the sugar¬
cane in the West Indies destroyed by
XX. 793.
Monkland Canal, X. 551 ; XVI. 16.
Monkwearmouth, town in Durham,
XV. 416—ruins at, VHI. 291.
Monmouth (James, Duke of), XV. 417
248—defeats the Covenanters at
Bothwell Bridge, 351—aspires to the
crown, 354—executed 356.
 , English town, XV. 417.
Monmouthshire, XV. 417 — Canal,
XVI. 16—great oak in, XXI. 293.
Monnier (M. Le), botanical labours of,
V. 87, 91—on electricity, VIII. 569.
Monocanthus, fish, XII. 229.
Monocentris, fish, XII. 174.
Monoceros, constellation, XV. 419.
Monochirus, fish, XII. 221.
Monochlamydese, in botany, V. 43, 125,
128, 131.
Monochord, XV. 419.
Monochtonida, mollusca, XV. 371.
Monocotyledons, in vegetable anatomy,
III. 72 —structure and evolution of
monocotyledonous seeds, 76.
Monocotyledones, in botany, V. 51, 99,
92, 132.
Monoculus, Crustacea, VII. 503.
Monodonta, in eonchology, XV. 347.
Monody, XV. 419.
Monoepigynae, in botany, V. 132.
Monogamy, XV. 419.
Monogram, XV. 419.
Monohypogynse, in botany, V. 136.
Monomachus, VII. 284.
Monomania, XIV. 585 ; XVII. 4 59.
Monomotapa, XV. 573 ; II. 233.
Monomyaires, mollusca, XV. 366.
Monoperigynae, in botany, V. 134.
Monophysitbs, sectaries, XV. 419.
Monopoli, XV. 419 ; XV. 700.
Monopolies, in the reign of Elizabeth,
V. 303—evils of, VII. 166—their in¬
fluence on prices, XVIII. 289 — of
cloves at Amboyna, II. 597—of mer¬
cantile companies, VII. 180—of the
London theatres, VIII. 178—trade
with colonies, VII. 118.
Monopteros, in architecture, III. 468.
Monostoma, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Monosyllable, XV. 419.
Monothelites, heretics, XV. 419.
Monotoma, insect, IX. 176.
Monotony, XV. 419.
Monotrema, in zoology, XIV. Ill-
structure of, XVII. 706.
Monotriglyph, III. 468.
Monotropem, in botany, V. 118.
Monreal, in Naples, XV. 419.
Monro (Dr Alex.), primus, XV. 419;
XX. 830 —notice of his System of
Anatomy, II. 704.
  (Dr Alexander), secundus, on
the lymphatics, II. 703.
  (Dr), on the Echini, XXL 1004.
Mons, in the Netherlands, XV. 421.
Monseigneur, XV. 421.
Monsieur, XV. 421.
Monsoons, XV. 421; III. 679 ; XI. 378 ;
XIV. 747 ; XVII. 540—in Afghanis¬
tan, II. 212—in Ceylon, VI. 298.
Monster, XV. 421 ; XIV. 494 ; XVII.
129.
Montacute, in Somerset, XV. 422.
Montagnano, Italian city, XV. 422.
Montagu (Lady Mary Wortley), XV
INDEX.
105
MON
423 ; IV. 323—introduction of inocu'
lation by, XII. 283.
Montagu (Edward Wortley), XV. 425.
Montagu’s Ornithological Dictionary,
XVI. 553, 635.
Montague Island, XV. 425.
Montaigne (Michel de), XV. 425—his
merits as a writer on the philosophy
of mind, I. 49—had little scientific
knowledge, 50—predisposed to scep¬
ticism, ib.—carefully educated, ib.—
character of his scepticism, 51—radi¬
cal fault of his understanding, ib.—
his Apology for Raimondde Sebonde,
ib.—died a Christian, ib.—his opinion
of Sebonde’s Theologia Naturalis, 52
—poetical description of, by Voltaire,
53—reasons why his name should be
united with that of La Rochefoucauld,
55 — effects of his maxims on the
higher orders, 56.
Montanists, heretics, XV. 426.
Montanus (Arias), his Latin version of
the Bible, IV. 615.
Montargis, in France, XV. 426.
Montauban, in France, XV. 426.
Montbar, a bucaneer, V. 623.
Montbeliabd, in France, XV. 427.
Montbrison, in France, XV. 427.
Montcontour, in France, XV. 427.
Mont de Marsan, in France, XV. 427.
Montdidier, in France, XV. 427.
Monteciiiaro, Italian city, XV. 427.
Montego Bay, XII. 501.
Montegua (Andrea), painter, XVI. 719.
Monteguliano, in Sicily, XV. 427.
Monteleone, in Naples, XV. 427.
Montelimart, in France, XV. 427.
Montella, in Naples, XV. 427.
Monte Maggiore, XV. 427.
Montemayor, poetry of, XVIII. 162.
Monte Peloso, in Naples, XV. 427.
Montepulciano, Italian city, XV. 427.
Montereau, battle of, X. 167.
Monterery, port of, VI. 23.
Monterey, Mexican town, XIV. 818.
Montesarchio, XV. 427.
Montesquieu (Charles de S. Baron de),
XV. 427—main object of his work on
The Spirit of Laws, I. 94—his claim
to the idea of connecting jurispru¬
dence with history and philosophy,
ib.—his speculations directed to the
practical conclusion pointed out by
Bacon, 95—his Spirit of Laws gave
the first blow to the study of natural
jurisprudence, ib.—on natural reli¬
gion, 277—on a standard of value, XV.
386, u.
Monte Video, XV. 431 ; V. 523 ;
XVIII. 3, 4—weights and measures
of, XXI. 854.
Monteverde (Claudio), musician, XI.
XXL 151 ; 325.
 (General), IV. 7415 VII. 96.
et seq.
Montezuma,king of Mexico, XV. 433;
VII. 378 ; XIV. 763, et seq.
Montfaucon (Dom), on archceology. III.
256—on Jupiter Pluvius, 266 —his
work on antiquities, 268—on Roman
aqueducts, 319.
Montford (Simon de), VIII. 724.
Montfort, in France, XV. 433.
Montgolfier (Joseph), II. 184—balloon
invented by, 184, ct seq. — his ascent
iu one at Lyons, 187.
Montgolfier’s hydraulic ram, XII. 101 ;
V. 148.
Montgomery, Welsh town, XV. 433.
Montgomeryshire, in Wales, XV. 433
—canal, XVI. 16.
Month, XV. 435; VI. 3—Jewish, 658
—•Egyptian, ib.—Syrian and Macedo¬
nian, 659—Ethiopic or Abyssinian, 661
—Armenian, ib.—Mahommedan, 662
—Persian, ib.—Chinese, 663—Indian,
664 — Druidical, VIII. 206—ancient
Egyptian, 556—different species of
lunar, III. 791 — names of Attic
months, VI. 654—clock for indicat¬
ing days of, 780.
Monti (Vicenzo,, Italian poet, XV. 435.
MON—MOO
Montillia, Spanish city, XV. 436.
Montjoie, Prussian town, XV. 436.
Montlucon, in France, XV. 436.
Montmedy, in France, XV. 436.
Montmirail, battle of, X. 167.
Montmorenci (Philip de), Count Horn,
XI. 511, et seq.
Montmorency, French town, XV. 436
Montmorillon, in France, XV. 437. .
Montmort (Remond de), on games of
chance, XIV. 322—on probability,
XVIII. 592.
Montone, river, XVII. 4, 5.
Montpellier, French city, XV. 437—
swarm of ants at. III. 243—cotton-
manufacture of, VII. 417—university
of, XXL 487.
Montreal, XV. 4 37—Northwest Com¬
pany of, VI. 63—the Lachine Canal,
64 ; XVI. 27.
Montreuil, in France, XV. 438.
Montreux, Swiss village, XV. 438.
Montrose, XV. 438—effect of the basin
of, in clearing the entrance to the har¬
bour, VIII. 193.
 (Marquis of), X. 637—his victo¬
ries in Scotland, V. 326—defeated at
Philiphaugh, 328—executed, 334.
Montserrat, monastery, XV. 439.
  island, XV. 440.
Montucla on Descartes and Harriot, II.
424—on the arithmetic of sines, 485.
Monument of London, XIII. 536.
Monumental inscriptions, IX. 317 ; XII.
290.
Monza, Italian city, XV. 441.
Mood. See Mode.
Moogdul, Hindu town, XV. 441.
Mooltan, in Hindustan, XV. 441.
Moon, XV. 441; III. 784; IV. 1—gra¬
vitation and revolution of, I. 560—
Newton’s theory of, a work of genius
almost superhuman, 663—accelera.
tion of, II. 83; III. 752, 790; XIII.
99—Hipparchus’s discovery of period
of her revolution, III. 731—Ptolemy’s
discovery of her evection, 732—Ma
yer’s lunar tables, 751; XIV. 335—
her oval and large appearance in the
horizon, III. 763—phases, 785—pa¬
rallax, 786—magnitude, 786—orbit,
786—harvest-moon, 787—equation of
the centre, 789—evection, ib.—varia¬
tion, ib.—annual equation, ib.—secu¬
lar inequalities of perigee and nodes,
790—rotation and libration, IV. 1—
nature and constitution of her sub¬
stance, 3—spots, 4 — inequalities of
surface, ib.—atmosphere, 5—eclipses
and occultations, 7—force by which
the sun disturbs her motion round
the Earth, 54—Tables forcalculation of
new and full moon, and eclipses, 72—
application of the Tables, 86—lunar
months. III. 791; year, VI. 7 ; cycle,
9—Chinese festival at full moon, 561
—Ferguson’s lunar clock, 778—clock
for shewing moon’s age, 780—fancied
coldness of her rays, VII. 59, 749—
regard paid by the Druids to her re¬
volutions, VJII. 206—Leslie on her
light, XIII. 250—theory of the lunar
origin of meteorolites, XIV. 714—no
appreciable heat in her rays, 717—
does not influence the weather, ib.—
halo round the, 749—how to take al¬
titude of, XV. 777, 778—lunar rain¬
bow, XIX. 60—moon’s influence on
the tides, XXI. 260.
Moor (James), XV. 44 3.
Moorcroft’s journey to the Himalaya
Mountains, XI. 369, 374.
Moore (Dr John), XV. 449.
 — (Sir John), XV. 450—his expe¬
dition to Sweden, V. 524—his Spanish
expedition, 525—retreat to Corunna,
ib.; XXL 736.
 , or More (Roger), rebellion of,
V. 319; XII. 368.
Moorghur, Hindu town, XV. 455.
Mooring, XV. 455.
Moorley, Hindu town, XV. 455.
Moobleydurseray, XV. 455.
MOO—MOR
Moors of Africa, II. 224 ; Algiers, 503,
506 ; Barbary, IV. 363—their acade¬
mies in Spain, II. 67—architecture,
III. 423—ballads, XVIII. 162—-wars
with the Portuguese, 462, et seq. See
Arabians, Moriscos, Saracens.
Moorshedabad, XV. 455.
Moot, XV. 455.
Mootapilly, Hindu town, XV. 455.
Moplays of Canara, VI. 72.
Mopsus, XV. 455.
Morabin (Mons.), on Bellenden’s work
on the affairs of Rome, IV. 553.
Morad, river, XV. 455.
Moradabad, Hindu town, XV. 455.
Moraine of glaciers, II. 560.
Moral Philosopher, difficulties of, I. 294.
Moral Philosophy, XV. 456—little ad¬
vance made in, prior to the 17th cen¬
tury, I. 20—the Economists on rights
and duties, VIII. 400—Paley on, XVI.
761—progress of, XVII. 561—Plato’s
system of, XVIII. 34—opinions of So¬
crates in, XX. 464, 467. See Ethical
Philosophy, Ethics.
Moral Sense, XV. 490; XIV. 628;
XX. 96. See Conscience.
Morales (General), VII. 103.
Moralities, or religious plays, VIII. 154.
Morality, Christian, VI. 623—poetry
conducive to, XVIII. 140.
Morass, XV. 490.
Moravia, a province of Austria, XV.
490 ; IV. 227.
 , river, XV. 491.
Moravians, origin of, XXI. 988—mis¬
sions of, XIX. Ill—missions in La¬
brador, XIII. 5.
Morayshire, or Elginshire, XV. 491—
fisheries of, IX. 601.
Morbihan, in France, XV. 492.
Morbus Comitialis, XV. 492.
Mordants, in dyeing, VIII. 302 —in
calico-printing, 339.
Mordaunt (Charles), XV. 492.
Mordella, insect, IX. 168.
Mordellones, insects, IX. 167.
More (Hannah), XV. 494.
 (Dr Henry), his assertion that
Descartes was a Nullibist, I. 246.
 , or Moore (Roger), rebellion of,
V. 319; XII. 368.
  (Sir Thomas), XV. 493—cha¬
racter of, I. 232—anecdote of, IV.
472—execution of, VIII. 745 —his
patronage of Holbein, XI. 507.
Morea, in Greece, XV. 495 ; X. 723—
its present divisions, 753.
Moreau (John Victor), XV. 495; X. 101,
et seq., 129, 131—his campaign of
1796, V. 484.
Morebat, Arabian sea-port, XV. 498.
Morefoot Hills, VIII. 429.
Morel (William), printer, XV. 498.
   (Frederick), senior, XV. 498.
 (Frederick), junior, XV. 498.
Morell (Andrew), Swiss antiquary, XV.
499
 (Thomas), XV. 499.
Morelli (James), librarian of St Mark
at Venice, XV. 499.
Morelos, XIV. 784.
Morena (Sierra), XX. 515.
Moreno (Dr Mariano), V. 655; XVIII. 4.
Moreri (Louis), XV. 500.
Moreschi on erectile tissue, II. 726.
Moresque, XV. 500—Dances, ib.
Moreton-en-Marsh, XV. 500.
Morgagni (John Baptist), XV. 500 —
his anatomical labours, II. 701—on
the structure of the arteries, 717.
Morgan (Mr), on annuities and life-as¬
surance, III. 199, 201—his account
of the Equitable Society, 202, 209 —
some of his Tables criticised, 202.
 , a bucaneer, V. 624.
 , on Shakspeare’s disregard of the
unities, VIII. 163.
 (Mr), on the effects of electri¬
city on the animal functions, VIII.
639.
Morgarten, Swiss village, XV. 501—
battle of, XXI. 43.
MOR
Morghen (Raphael), XV. 501.
Morichini (Dr), on the magnetism of
the solar rays, XIII. 696 ; XVI. 422.
Morillo, IV. 742 ; VII. 98, et seq.
Morin, VIII. 319.
Moringeie, in botany, V. 107.
Moriscos in Spain, their revolt, XX.
503—'expulsion, 504.
Morison (R.), botanist, XV. 501; V. 71.
Moritz (St), Swiss town, XV. 501.
Morlachia, in Dalmatia, XV. 601.
Morlaix, in France, XV. 501.
Morland (Sir Samuel), his barometer,
IV. 390—his speaking-trumpets, XXI.
391.
Morlet on magnetic equator, XIII. 743.
Mormolyce, insect, IX. 125.
Mormyrus, fish, XII. 201.
Mornay (Philippe de), XV. 502.
Morne (Lough), VI. 175.
Morning, XV. 502.
Morning-Star, XV. 502. See Venus.
Mornington Isle, XV. 502.
Morocco, XV. 502 ; II. 234 ; IV. 360
— heights of mountains of, XVII.
505—weights and measures, XXI. 854.
Morogues (Chevalier de), on naval sig¬
nals, XX. 335, 336.
Morpeth, in Northumberland, XV. 512.
Morpheus, XV. 512.
Morphia, muriate of, its poisonous qua¬
lity, XIV. 504.
Morphin, VI. 460—salts of, 461.
Morphnus, bird, XVI. 563.
Morpho, insect, IX. 242.
Morra, a timber of Guiana, XXI. 303.
Morrhina Vasa, XV. 512.
Morrhua, fish, XII. 217.
Morris (Corbyn), on mortality in Lon¬
don, XV. 514.
Morrice Dances, XV. 500.
Morrison (General), IV. 248.
 (Mr), his improvements in the
coinage of silver, VII. 46.
Morrumbidgee, river, XXI. 714, 715.
Mors, infernal deity, XV. 512.
Morse, XIV. 125—ivory of. III. 32.
MoRSHANST.in Russia, XV. 512.
Mortagne, in France, XV. 512.
Mortain, in France, XV. 512.
Mortality (Human), XV. 513—in
England, VIII. 799—of infants, XIV.
206, 208—in Manchester, 224—in the
royal navy, XVI. 54—in Russia, XIX.
572—in the United States, XXI. 461
—diminution of rate of, III. 207—
greater in males than in females, 208
—Glasgow bills of, X. 535—manufac¬
tures not productive of increase of,
XVIII. 285—variations of, in diffe¬
rent countries, 419 —tables of, 420,
593—registration of deaths, XIX. 98.
See Annuities, Population, Probabi¬
lity.
Mortar, XV. 562—plasterer’s, V. 677-8
—composition of, 664—for building,
XIV. 288—connexion formed by mor¬
tar of lime and gypsum, VI. 289.
 and pestle, XV. 562.
 , gun, XV. 562; XI. 34, 71, 72—
mortar-practice, 71.
Mortara, in Piedmont, XV. 562.
Mortier, French ensign, XV. 562.
Mortification, in pathology, XVII. 128.
Mortimer on husbandry, II. 259.
  (Earl of), VIII. 727.
Mortise, XV. 562—oblique mortise and
tenon, VI. 167—mortising, V. 683.
Mortlake, in Surrey, XV. 562.
Mortmain, in law, XV. 563.
Morton Hampstead, town in Devon¬
shire, XV. 564.
 (Samuel), his drill-plough and
harrow, II. 267-8, 350.
 (Dr), on intermittent fever,
XVII. 486.
 (Earl of), regent of Scotland,
XIX. 741.
Morung, in Hindustan, XV. 564.
Morns alba, XX. 351. See Mulberry.
  (Alexander), his controversy
with Milton, XV. 99.
Morveau. See Guyton-Morveau.
106
INDEX
MOR—MOU
Morwaba, Hindu town, XV. 064.
Mos, in Norway, XV. 564.
Mosaic Law, XV. 564—authorizes sla¬
very, XX. 382.
 Work, XV. 568 ; III. 257 ; XVI.
706.
 Gold, VI. 414.
Mosalsk, in Russia, XV. 568.
Moscas, II. 622.
Moschopulus on magic squares,XIII. 681.
Moschcs, poet, XV. 568 ; XVII. 429.
 , in zoology, XIV. 157.
Moscow, XV. 568—burnt in 1812, X.
X57—burnt by the Tartars, XIX. 536
—famine at, 537.
Moselle, in France, XV. 569.
Mosely on hydrodynamics, XII. 8.
Moser on magnetism, XIII. 697.
Moses, XV. 570—education of, XI. 294,
n. 3—whether the author of the Pen¬
tateuch, XVII. 226. See Mosaic Law.
 *—, a kind of boat, IV. 722.
Moshaisk, in Russia, XV. 571.
Mosheim (John Laurence), XV. 571—
on the theological system of Luther,
I. 21—on mysteries, XV. 659.
Mosque, XV. 571.
Mosquito, insect, IX. 258—means of
preventing bites of, XII. 293.
Mosquito-men, XI. 551.
Mosquito-shore, XI. 19.
Moss, or bog, XV. 572. See Bog.
 (J.W.), his work on classical bi¬
bliography, IV. 627.
Mosses, in botany, V. 38, 138—cultiva¬
tion of, II. 313—organs of reproduc¬
tion in, V. 55—Iceland moss, 139; VI.
476.
Mostra, in Italian music, XV. 573.
Mosul, Turkish city, XV. 573.
Motacilla, birds, XVI. 576.
Motapha, XV. 573 ; II. 233.
Motella, fish, XII. 219.
Moths, IX. 244—their insensibility to
pain, III. 164—their mode of enter¬
ing bee-hives, IV. 523—their enmity
to bees, 533 — preservation of wool
from, VIII. 299—in furs, X. 267-
destruction of, XXI. 603.
Mother-of-pearl, optical properties of,
XVI. 444—micrometer, VI. 254.
Motion, XV. 573—production of, by
attraction and impulse, IV. 173—laws
of, VIII. 349, et seq. ; XVII. 566—
change of, VIII. 354—composition of,
356—reduction of motions, 363—ac¬
celerated and retarded, 367—of fluids,
XII. 51—Landen’s theory of rotatory,
XIII. 56—Galileo on local, XIV. 350
—conservation of momentum of rota¬
tory, 353—of bodies on inclined planes
and curves, 381—first movers of ma¬
chinery, 426—howto change one kind
of motion into another, 448—metaphy¬
sical view of, 6 5 7—not necessarily indi¬
cative of mind, X VII. 5 59—sensibleand
insensible, 562—absurdity of attribut¬
ing chemical and other changes to,
564—application of laws of, 566—is
the subject of pure matbematical dis¬
quisition, 571—of air, XVIII. 106—
of rivers and canals, XIX. 252. See
Dynamics, Mechanics, Statics.
_   (Perpetual), XV. 581; VI. 53
XVI. 529.
— of animals, XII. 380—of the hu¬
man body, II. 795—voluntary, XVII.
580, 674 ; proper to animals, III. 157
—offishes, XII. 156—nerves of, XVII.
676—automatic, 677—instinctive, ib.
 involuntary, 678—spontaneous mo¬
tions of plants, XXI. 587.
Motir, island, XV. 581.
Motive, XV. 581—conjunction of mo¬
tive and action, XIV. 691. See Will.
Motoualis, Syrian nation, XV. 581.
Mottoes, in heraldry, XV. 581 ; XI.
258.
Motya taken by Dionysius, VI. 186.
Moufet (Thomas), XV 581.
Moujgur, Hindu town, XV. 581.
Moulds, XV. 581-2—in ship building,
582 ; XX. 280. See Casting.
MOU—MUC
Mouldiness, V. 139 — vegetation and
seeds of, III. 191.
Moulding XV. 582. See Casting.
Mouldings, in architecture, XV. 582 ;
HI. 468, 473—Greek, 441, 463—Ro¬
man, 450, 463—Italian, 451.
 , in joinery, V. 688 ; XII. 610.
 (plaster), in rooms, V. 680
Moulin (Du), his work against Milton,
XV. 99.
Moulineau (Monsieur), roof constructed
by, XIX. 456.
Moulinet, XV. 582.
Moulins, in France, XV. 582.
Moulmein teak-wood, XXI. 299.
Moult’s filter, IX. 582.
Moulting, XV. 582 ; IX. 91.
Mound, XV. 582, 583.
Mount Edgecombe, XV. 583.
Mount Sorrel, in Leicester, XV. 583.
Mounts of Piett, XV. 583.
Mountains, XV. 583 ; XVII. 504 —
their peculiar appearance in Abys¬
sinia, II. 59—snow line of, 560 —
afford proofs of beneficent design and
adaptation to the wants of man, 608
—their influence on climate, 610—
barometrical measurement of, IV. 396
—cold of, VI. 752 ; VII. 58; XII.
134—heat of sun’s rays on, VI. 758—
coal seldom found in, VII. 74—elec¬
trical phenomena on, VIII. 620—at¬
traction of, XV. 583—direction of
chains of, XVH. 504—appearances of
opposite sides of, ib.—height of, ib.—
tables of heights of, 505, 556 ; and
Plate 410—ebullition on, XX. 574-
rule for finding the height of, by the
boiling-point of water, ib.
Mountain of Forty Days, XV. 584.
Mountains of the Lions, XV. 584.
 (Marble), XV. 584.
 of the Moon, XV. 584.
Mountain-barometer, IV. 399.
Mountain-cap, cloud, XII. 133.
Mountain-party at the French Revolu¬
tion, X. 71, et seq.
Mountain-soap, a mineral, XV. 148.
Mountsbay-angler, fish, XII. 195.
Mouonio, in Lapland, XIII. 113.
Mourghab, antiquities at, XVII. 257.
Mourgue (J. A.), on mortality, XV. 520.
Mourne Mountains, VIII. 131.
Mourning, XV. 584.
Mourzouk, IX. 531.
Mousa Pasha, XXI. 415.
Mouse, XIV. 133—means of destroying
mice, XXL 599.
Moussyre, island, XV. 585.
Mouth, human, II. 802.
Moutray (Captain), V. 415.
Mouze (Monsieur), on subterranean for¬
tification, IX. 771.
Mouzillon, French town, XV. 585.
Moveable, XV. 581.
Mow, Hindu towns, XV. 585.
Moxa, XV. 585.
Moxon on type-making, XXI. 436.
Moy, river, XX. 392—its navigation,
XVI. 22.
Moyes (Dr Henry), a blind mathemati¬
cian, IV. 701.
Mozambique, XV. 585 ;II. 232—weights
and measures of, XXI. 854.
Mozart, musician, XV. 585.
Mozgurrah, Hindu town, XV. 588.
Mucedines, in botany, reproductive or¬
gans of, V. 57.
Muchoo River, XV. 588.
Mucic acid, VI. 429.
Mucilage, XV. 588; VI. 477 ; XXI.
568—its nutritive qualities, VIII. 20.
Mucius. See Mutius.
Muckealah, Hindu town, XV. 588.
Muckondabad, Hindu town, XV. 588.
Muckud, Hindu town, XV. 588.
Muckundnauth, Hindu town, XV. 588.
Muckundra, Hindu village, XV. 588.
Mucor, or mouldiness, V. 139—seeds
and vegetation of. III. 191.
Mucous membrane, II. 751 ; XVII. 607
—vessels of, II. 753—its connection
with the skin, 754 ; VII. 190.
MUC—MUM
Mucruss Abbey, in Kerry, XII. 704.
Mucus (animal), XV. 588; VI. 496;
XVII. 607, 623, 650—its quality as
an aliment, VIII. 19.
  (vegetable), VI. 478.
Mud, showers of, V. 642.
Mud-volcanoes, XVII. 515 ; XII. 147.
Mudarin, VI. 471.
Muddie, Hindu town, XV. 588.
Mudge (General), measurement of a de¬
gree of latitude by, I. 659 ; IX. 550 —
employed on the ordnance survey,
XXL 354, 356.
Mudge’s scapements, VI. 775, 794.
Mudie (Robert), on the elevated haunts
of the ptarmigan, XX. 317.
Mudrus, VI. 21.
Mueller (Johannes Von), German his¬
torian, XV. 588. See Muller.
Muffle, XV. 589.
Muffle-furnace, X. 272.
Mufti, XV. 589 ; XXI. 423.
Muganayana, Indian town, XV. 589.
Muggletonians, sect, XV. 590.
Muggy, bird, XVI. 576.
Mughs, III. 626.
Mugilidse, fishes, XII. 191.
Muglee, Hindu town, XV. 590.
Muglitz, Moravian city, XV. 590.
Muhlhausen, French city, XV. 590.
Muhlrose, canal of, IV. 331.
Muir (Tho.), prosecution of, V. 471.
Mulatto, XV. 590.
Mulberry-trees in China, VI. 579—in
Granada, X. 704—culture of, XI. 650;
in Lombardy, XIII. 478 — specific
gravity of wood of, XII. 33—leaves of,
the best food of silk-worms, XIII.
477; XX. 351.
Mulct, XV. 590.
Mule, XV. 590—Asiatic, III. 683—its
barrenness, 162.
  (spinning), XX. 539—self-acting
mules, ib., et seq.; VII. 403; XIV.
216.
Mule-jenny, VII. 402 ; XX. 537, 541.
Mules, among gardeners, XV. 590.
Muley Moloch, XVIII. 466.
Mulhara, Hindu town, XV. 590.
Mulhausen, Prussian city, XV. 590.
Mulheim, XV. 590.
Mulier, in law, XV. 590.
Mulio, insect, IX. 267.
Mulivaddy, river, VI. 299.
Mull, island, XV. 590.
Mullahpore, Hindu town, XV. 591.
Mullenbach, XV. 591.
Muller, XV. 591.
 , or Regiomontanus (John), XV.
591. See Regiomontanus.
 (Christopher), XI. 314.
  (Johannes Von), German his¬
torian, XV. 588—his History of the
Doric Race, VIII. 117—on the Etrus¬
can language, IX. 388. ,
 (Otho Frederic), on animalcules
III. 180, 181—on hydraehine, III. 368
—on conchology, XV. 331.
 on the organs of secretion, XVII
649—on the blood, XVII. 657.
Mullet, fish, XII. 172—red and striped,
ib.—gray, 191.
 , in heraldry, XI. Plate 277.
Mullingar, XV. 591;.XXI. 863.
Mullins (J. W.), nis voltaic batteries,
XXI. 671.
Mullion, in architecture, III. 468.
Mullus, fish, XII. 172.
Multappy, Hindu town, XV. 591.
Multifernan Abbey, XXI. 863.
Multiple, XV. 591 ; X. 442.
Multiplicand, XV. 591.
Multiplication, XV. 591—in algebra,
II. 429,433—in arithmetic, III. 545—
of vulgar fractions, 558—of decimals,
561, 562, 563—by Napier’s rods, XV.
693.
Multiplicator, XV. 591.
Multipliers (electrical), VIII. 653.
Mum, liquor, XV. 591.
Mummius (Lucius), Roman consul, XV.
591—Corinth taken by, VII. 327.
Mummy, XV. 591—Egyptian mummies,
MUM—MUR
VIII. 676 —the Guanches, VI. 73-
See Embalming.
Mumps, XXI. 622.
Mun (Mr) on political economy, XVIII.
262, 264.
Munchausen on animalcules, III. 191.
Munck (Jens), voyage of, XVIII. 218.
Munda, battle of, XIX. 398.
Mundattafal, Hindu town, XV. 591.
Munden, German city, XV. 591.
Mundingoes. See Mapdingo.
Mundinus on anatomy, XVII. 726.
Mundium, Hindu village, XV. 592.
Mundus, VII. 281.
 Patens, ancient Roman solem¬
nity, XV. 592.
Mungulhaut, Hindu town, XV. 592.
MUngulore, Afghan town, XV. 592.
Mungulwara, Hindu town, XV. 592.
Munich, XV. 592 ; IV. 460—Academy
of Sciences at, II. 73—royal library
of, XIII. 312.
Municipal, XV. 592.
Municipes, XV. 592.
Municipium, XV. 592.
Munition, XV. 592—Ships, ib.
Munkacs, Hungarian town, XV. 592.
Munnipore, Burmese town, XV. 592.
Munro (Colonel), on India, XI. 445, a. ;
455, et seq. ; 464.
 (Sir Hector), XI. 419.
 (Sir Thos.), on Canara, VI. 70.
Munster, Irish province, XV. 592.
 , government and town in West¬
phalia, XV. 594—town taken posses¬
sion of by the Anabaptists, II. 679.
 (Sebastian), on dialling, VII. 759.
Munster’s Latin Bible, IV. 615.
Miinter (Bishop), VII. 731—on the Cop¬
tic language, XI. 315.
Muntins, in joinery, V. 688.
Muntjaks, in zoology, XIV. 161.
Muntz (J. H.), on encaustic painting,
VIII. 695.
Munychia, a port of Athens, IV. 126.
Munychio, an ancient Athenian solem¬
nity, XV. 594.
Munychion, Athenian month, XV. 594.
Munzer, an anabaptist, II. 679.
Murad Bey, VIII. 487.
Mursena, fish, XII. 224.
Mural, XV. 594—Arch, ib.-Quadrants
and Circle, IV. 106.
Murano, XV. 594.
Murat, in France, XV. 596.
 (Joachim), French general, XV.
594 ; V. 536 ; XII. 477.
Muratori (Louis Antony), XV. 596.
Murcia, Spanish province, XV. 597.
 , Spanish city, XV. 597. _
 , goddess, XV. 597.
Murder, XV. 597 ; XIV. 497—its punish¬
ment in China, VI. 557. See Infan¬
ticide.
Murderers, ship-ordnance, XV. 597.
Murdoch (Mr), the inventor of gas-light¬
ing, X. 349.
 (Rev. Patrick), on the conical
development, X. 418.
Murdoch’s boring-apparatus, V. 4.
 steam-engine-valves, XX. 647,
648.
Murengers, XV. 597.
Muret, in France, XV. 597.
 (M.), on the population of the
Pays de Vaud, XV. 515—on Swiss
births, XVIII. 417.
Murex, in conchology, XV. 347, 374.
Murfreesboro, in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
Murghaub, Persian village, XV. 597.
Muriates, VI. 454.
Muriatic acid, in chemistry, VI. 364 —
in mineralogy, XV. 137—poisonous
quality of, XIV. 503.
 Ether, VI. 439.
 Substances, phosphorescent ef¬
fects of electricity on, VIII. 634.
Muricalcite, Specific gravity of, XII
33.
Murichom, Hindu village, XV. 597.
Muricidse, mollusca, XV. 364.
Murillo, character of the paintings of,
III. 650 ; XVI. 722.
INDEX
107
MUB—MTJS
Mubkctchoe, Hindu town, XV. 597.
Mono, Neapolitan city, XV. 598.
Mubom, in Russia, XV. 598.
Murrain renders the flesh of animals
poisonous, XIV. 507.
Murrambidgee River, IV. 207.
Mubbay (Dr Alex.), XV. 598 ; XII. 737.
 on botany, V. 88.
  (Lord George), his telegraph,
XXI. 138.
 (Sir John), V. 534.
 (John), on paper, XVII 13.
 (Dr John', his analysis of sea¬
water, XVII. 518.
 (Mr), of Leeds, his boring-ma¬
chine, V. 4.
 (Mungo), on ship-building, XX.
229, 264.
 , Regent of Scotland, XIX. 734,
et seq.
 (William), Earl of Mansfield,
XV. 599.
 . See Morayshire.
 River, XXI. 714, 715.
Mobbay’s Islands, XV. 601.
Mubbhine, XV. 601.
Moeten, Swiss city, XV. 602.
Mubviedbo, Spanish town, XV. 602.
Mus, in zoology, XIV. 132—structure
of mus typhus, XVII. 705.
Musa, XV. 602—the ancient name of
Mocha, III. 341.
Musaceae, in botany, V. 133.
Mrs,v.cs, Greek poet, XV. 602—poems
of, XVII. 404.
 , German novelist, romances of,
XIX. 357.
Musca, insect, IX. 283.
Muscardihe, in zoology, XIV. 132—its
hybernation, III. 167.
Muscat, XIV. 276—its trade with Sinde,
XX. 363—weights and measures of,
XXL 854.
Muschenbroek (Peter Van), XV. 647
—on dew, VII. 749, 750—on meteo-
rolites, XIV. 714 — his pyrometer,
XVIII. 747—his experiments on the
strength of woods, XX. 757.
Muschman on magnetism, XIII. 723.
Musci, or mosses. See Mosses.
Muscicapa, birds, XVI. 569.
Muscides, insects, IX. 281.
Muscipeta, birds, XVI. 569.
Muscles, II. 737, 792 ; XVII. 680, 608-
Galen’s knowledge of, II. 690—con¬
tractility of, 738 ; XVII. 609—fascia,
II. 740—general remarks on, 794—of'
brutes, III. 18 — of the elephant’s
trunk, 28—not apparent in animal¬
cules, 182—great muscular power of
ants, 240—chemical composition of,
VI. 503—influence of their strength
on the mind, VIII. 442—of fishes,
XII. 156—of the mollusca, XV. 326
—irritability of, XVII. 132—vital ex¬
pansibility and tonicity of, 133—source
of their power, 611—muscular sense,
662—muscles of voluntary motion,
675—diseases of, in the domestic ani¬
mals, XXI. 615—muscular tissue of
animals, III. 158.
Muscovado, XX. 795.
Musculus, XV. 602.
Mcseia, Greek festivals, XV. 602.
Muses, XV. 602.
Museum, XV. 603.
 , in ancient Athens, IV. 124.
 (British). See British.
Musgrave on anomalous gout, XVII. 486.
Mushed, Persian city, XV. 603—valley
of, XII. 708.
Mushet’s furnace, X. 272.
Mushrooms, V. 139—yellow dye from,
VIII. 323—culture of, XI. 666—
poisonous kinds of, XIV. 507.
Mushroom-sugar, VI. 473.
Music, XV. 604—in Austria, IV. 235-
China, VI. 571—Greece, IV. 163, n. 1
—Russia, XIX. 583,n. 1—principles
upon which it is founded, I. 612—
Academies of, II. 74—air in, 367—
beating time in, IV. 475—taste for,
in Brazil, V. 205—Cavallo on the tem-
MTJ S—M YI
perament of musical intervals, VI. 254
—characters used in, 323—composi¬
tion, VII. 193—design, 740—discord,
VIII. 40—double employment, 122—
harmony, XI. 150—imitation, XII.
254—interval, 331—intonation, 332
melody, XIV. 542—symphony, XXI.
53 — temperament of musical scale,
17?—thorough bass, 252—tonality,
325. See Aretin (Guido).
Musical glasses, XI. 149.
   instruments, principles of, II.
119,121. See Flute, Organ, &c.
 —sounds, II. 119—distinction be¬
tween them and other sounds, 120.
Musicians, blind, IV. 702.
Musimon, an animal, XV. 647.
Musk, XV. 647; XIV. 157—vegetable
musk plant, VII. 707.
Musk-deer, XIV. 157 ; XXI. 255.
Musk-duck. XVI. 637.
Musk-ox, XIV. 167.
Muskaw. Prussian town, XV
Musket, XV. 647 ; XI. 34—boring of
muskets, V. 5.
Musketoon, XV. 647.
Musketry, sound of, II. 119.
Muskingum, river, XVI. 326.
Muslin, XV. 647—folding of, VI. 20—
manufacture of, in India, IV. 567 ;
VII. 396—first attempts to manufac¬
ture it in Britain, VII. 407.
Musmon, in zoology, XIV. 164.
Musophaga, birds, XVI. 603.
Musquito. See Mosquito.
Musschenbroek. See Muschenbroek.
Mussel, XV. 372.
Musselburgh, Scotch town, XV. 647.
Mussoheli, in Sicily, XV. 648.
Mussulman, XV. 648.
Must, sweet wine, XV. 648.
Mustapha, Turkish emperor, XXI. 412.
— II, of Turkey, XXI. 413.
 IV., of Turkey, XXI. 415.
Mustard, culture of, XI. 675.
Mustela, in zoology, XIV. 109.
Mustelus, fish, XII. 233.
Muster, XV. 648—Rolls, ib.
Mutse, insects, IX. 202.
Mutation, XV. 648.
Mutationes, XV. 648.
Mutchkin, measure, XV. 648.
Mute, XV. 648.
Mutilation, XV. 648—crime of, XIV.
496. See Castration.
Mutilla, insect, IX. 228.
Mutina, battle of, XIX. 398.
Mutiny, XV. 648—in the British fleet
at the Norein 1797, V. 481; VIII. 276.
Mutis (Joseph Celestino), XV. 648.
Mutids (Cains), XV. 650; XIX. 369.
 Scievola (Q.), XV. 650.
Muttahir, III. 343.
Mutton, XV. 650.
Mutual, XV. 650.
Mutule, in Doric architecture, XV.
650 ; III. 468.
M»tunus, XV. 650.
Muys on the muscles, XVII. 608.
Muyscas, II. 622.
Muzzle of a gun, XV. 650.
My86, mollusca, X V. 340, 373,
Mycale, XV. 650—battle of, IV. 151.
Mycen/e, Greek town, XV. 651—archi¬
tectural remains at, III. 414.
Mycerinus, pyramid of, VIII. 549.
Mycetes, in zoology, XIV. 94.
Mycetobia, insect, IX. 262.
■Mycetophagi, insects, IX. 176.
Mycetophila, insects, IX. 263.
Mycondah, Hindu town, XV. 651.
Mycone, island, XV. 651.
Myconus, island, XV. 651.
Mycteria, birds, XVI. 620.
Mycterus, insect, IX. 167.
Mydan, Afghan district, XV. 651.
Mydas, insect, IX. 266.
Mydasii, insects, IX. 266.
Mydaus, in zoology, XIV. 110.
Myek, Hindu town, XV. 651.
Mygale, genus of arachnides, III. 357.
 , genus of mammalia, XIV. 103.
Myiagbus Deus, XV. 651.
MYL—NAB
Myiodes Deus, XV. 651.
Myiabris, insect, IX. 169.
Mylasa, in Asia Minor, XV. 651.
Mylau, in Saxony, XV. 651.
Myletes, fish, XII. 212.
Myliobatis, fish, XII. 235.
Mylius on pseudonymous books, IV. 628.
Mylne (Mr), his plan of Blackfriars
Bridge, III. 387—his centre for it
VI. 287, 290.
Mymunsing, in Hindustan, XV. 65
Myniops, insect, IX. 173.
Myo Isle, XV. 652.
Myodites, insects, IX. 168.
Myology, XV. 652 ; II. 792—compa¬
rative, III. 18—of the domestic ani¬
mals, XXI. 615. See Muscles.
Myomancy, XV. 652.
Myopa, insect, IX. 279.
Myopia, XV. 652 ; XVII. 671.
Myoporinae, in botany, V. 123.
Myopotamus, in zoology, XIV. 139.
Myopteris, in zoology, XIV. 101.
Myosen, lake, XVI. 261.
Myothera, birds, XVI. 573.
Myoxis, in zoology, XIV. 132.
Myriad, XV. 652.
Myriapoda, insects, XV. 652.
Myricese, in botany, V. 130.
Myrina, insect, IX. 242.
Myripristis, fish, XII. 170.
Myristacese, in botany, V. 126.
Mykistica, XV. 655 ; V. 66.
Myrmecia, arachnides, III. 363.
Myrmecophaga, in zoology, XIV. 143.
Myrmecophila, insect, IX. 192.
Myrmelion, insect, IX. 212.
Myrmelionides, insects, IX. 212.
Myrmica, insect, IX. 228.
Myrmidons, XV. 655 ; II. 174.
Myrmillones, XV. 655.
Myrobalans, fruit, XV. 656.
Myron, Greek statuary, XV. 656.
Myrrh, XV. 656; VI. 491—specific
gravity of, XII. 33.
Myrsineae, in botany, V. 119.
Myrtaceae, in botany, V. 109.
Myrteae, in botany, V. 110.
Myrthr-Tydvil. See Merthyr-Tydvil.
Myrto, XX. 443.
Myrtoum Mare, XV. 656.
Myrtcs, island, XV. 656.
Myschkin, in Russia, XV. 656.
Mysia, in Asia Minor, XV. 656.
Mysleniczer, in Austria, XV. 656.
Mysol Isle, XV. 656.
Myson, Greek sage, XV. 656.
Mysore, in Hindustan, XV. 656—con¬
quered by the British, XI. 433.
Mysteries, XV. 657—Eleusinian, VIII.
664—ancient, XIV. 281—modern, or
sacred dramas, VIII. 153.
Mystical, or Mysterious, XV. 674.
Mystics, sect, XV. 674 ; I. 311.
Mystrum, measure, XV. 675.
Mythology, XV. 675—Egyptian, VIII.
551—Greek and Roman, III. 256—
Runic, VIII. 410—Bryant on, V.
618 ; VII. 691—Strabo on, 463—
Heync on, XI. 292. See Deluge,
Egyptians, Greeks, &c.
Mytildao, mollusca, XV. 367.
Mytilene, aqueduct in, III. 318.
Mytiloides, in conchology, XV. 343.
Mytilus, in conchology, XV. 344, 372.
Myxine, fish, XII. 137.
Myxodes, fishes, XII. 192.
Myzine, insect, IX. 229.
Mzensk, in Russia, XV. 684.
N
N, letter of the alphabet, XV. 684.
Naas, XV- 684 ; XII. 714.
Nabatene, XV. 684.
Nabis,* a tyrant of Sparta, XV..684.
Nablous, XV. 710 ; XVI. 741-2.
Nablum, XV. 685,
Nabo, XV. 685.
■ Nabob, XV. 685.
NAB—NAP
Nabonassar, XV. 685; IV. 303—era
of, VI. 659.
Nabuchadnezzar, kingof Assyria, XV.
685. See Nebuchadnezzar.
Naccari (F. L.), on birds, XVI. 551.
Nachelo, a Persian seaport, XV. 685.
Nachitschevan, Russian city, XV. 685.
Nackshievan, Persian town, XV. 685.
Naded, town in India, XV. 685.
Nadegadoo, in Ceylon, XV. 685.
Nadim, river, XV. 685.
Nadir, XV. 685 ; III. 754.
Nadir Shah, III. 689 ; V. 699 ; XI. 411;
XVII. 268.
Nadone, Hindu town, XV. 685.
Njenia, XV. 685.
Naerden, Dutch town, XV. 685.
N.erius (Cneius), Latin poet, XV. 685.
Nafels, Swiss town, XV. 686.
Naff, Hindu river, XV. 686.
Nagal, a Hindu town, XV. 686.
Nagamangatam, XV. 686.
Naghery, town in India, XV. 686.
Nagjery, town in India, XV. 686.
Nagne, Hindu river, XV. 686.
Nagpoor, in Hindustan, XL 438.
Nagy-Banya, in Hungary, XV. 686.
Nagy-Enyed, Austrian city, XV. 686.
Nagy-Karoli, XV. 686.
Nagy-Kobesch, XV. 686.
Nahn, in Hindustan, XV. 686.
Nahr el Berd ; Eltemasif.h ; Gebail;
el Houali; el Kebir; rivers in Asia,
XV. 686.
Naiades, river deities, XV. 686.
Naiant, in heraldry, XV. 686.
Nails, their adhesion to wood, XIV. 458.
Nail-trade of Birmingham, VIII. 775.
Nails of the human body, II. 751; XVII.
607.
Nain (Lewis S. de), XV. 686.
Naipi, river, II. 651.
Nairne (Mr), on electricity, VIII. 623-
4-5—on pneumatics, XVIII. 86.
Nairnshire, in Scotland, XV. 687 —
fisheries of, IX. 601.
Nairs, XVI. 66; XI. 398 ; XIV. 50.
Nais, worm, XI. 222.
Naissant, in heraldry, XV. 688.
Naja, serpent, XX. 147, 134.
Na.too, island, XV. 688.
Nama, V. 176.
Namacul, town in India, XV. 688.
Namagang, island, XV. 688.
Namboody, town in India, XV. 688.
Name, XV. 688—surname, XX. 846.
Namptwich, XV. 689.
Namiib, XV. 689—sieges of, VII. 29.
Nancowry, island, XV. 690.
Nancy, in France, XV. 690.
Nandaprayaga, in India, XV. 690.
Nandere, in India, XV. 690.
Nandoor, in India, XV. 690.
Nandou, bird, XVI. 616; V. 641.
Nanga, town in Niphon, XV. 690.
Nangasaki, sea-port of Japan, XV. 690.
Nangis, battle of, X. 167.
Nanhiung, Chinese city, XV. 690.
Nani (John Baptist), XV. 690.
Nanka Islands, XV. 691.
Nankang, Chinese city, XV. 691.
Nankeen-yellow, dyeing of, VIII. 324.
Nanking, Chinese city, XV. 691—large
bells in, IV. 547.
Nan-ning, Chinese city, XV. 691-
Nanpareh, Hindu town, XV. 691.
Nantes, XV. 691—edict of, X. 33, 34-
revocation of edict, XX. 341—canal to
Brest, XVI. 6.
Nantca, in France, XV. 691.
Nantucket, American island, XIV. 306
—fisheries of, V. 401.
Nantwicii, XV. 689.
Nanyang, Chinese town, XV. 691.
Nanybrus, IV. 542.
Naos, in architecture, III. 468.
Napakiang, XV. 691.
Naperabad, VII. 630.
Naphtha, in chemistry, VI. 443 —in
mineralogy, XV. 172—its sp. gr., XII.
33—Of Caucasus, VI. 216 ; Japan,
XII. 512; Persia, XVII. 243—used
for lamps, XIII, 41.
108
INDEX
NAP—NAR
NAR—NAU
NAU—NEA
Naphthali, tribe of Israel, XV. 691.
Naphthaline, VI. 372—its sp. gr., XII. 33.
Napier (family of), XI. 251, n.
 (Colonel W. F. P.),on the British
army, III. 617, 622—on Sir J. Moore’s
retreat to Corunna, XV. 453.
  (David), his improvements in
steam-navigation, XX. 690.
  (John), Baron of Merchiston,
XV. 691—his invention of logarithms,
I. 447 ; XIII. 418, 431 ; XIV. 316—
his depth and originality of mind, I.
44/—his unrivalled merit,448—talents ■
of, as a geometrician, ib.—brought
the notation of decimals to its utmost |
simplicity, 587—on burning-mirrors, |
V. 729—his Rules of the Circular j
Parts, XXI. 381—his Rods or Bones,
XV. 693.
 (Lord), his proceedings at Can-1
ton, VI. 103—on the fire of St Elmo, |
VIII. 623.
 (Mr), account of his printing-
machine, XVIII. 571.
Naples, XV. 694—academies of science
at, II. 69—Academy of Herculaneum,
76—acquired by Alphonso V., II. 557
—extensive poisonings with aqua to-
fana, III. 313 —army, 612—end of
Murat’s government, V. 536 — dis¬
cussion in the British parliament in
1821 relative to, 551—cotton-manu¬
facture, VII. 420—invaded by Charles
VIII. , X. 29—war with France in
1798,1.10—its state at that time, XVI.
87—appended to Spain, XII. 476—
revolution at, 478 — libraries, XIII.
311—coins, XV. 407, 410—mortality,
537—tonnage of ships, XXI. 329—
weights and measures, 854, 847, 848.
Naplous, XV. 710; XVI. 741, 742.
Napoleon, XV. 711; X. 80, 96, 99, et
seq. ; XI. 485 —his road over the
Simplon, II. 559, n.—his army and
artillery. III. 599, 635, 636—on con¬
scription, 601—his Italian campaigns,
X. 99, 118; IV. 221 ; V. 479—works
at Cherbourg, 218 — expedition to
Egypt, 485; VIII. 488, 489; X. 109
—invasion of Syria, V. 489; VIII.
488, 489; X. 112; XVI. 759—return
from Egypt, V. 489—letters to George
HI., 490, 520 ; X. 116—passage of the
Alps, 118 ; V. 495—appointed first
consul, 512 ; X. 116—irritated by the
English journals, V. 513 ; X. 127 —
bis designs against Malta, V. 513 ;
X. 127—conversation with Lord Whit¬
worth, V. 513; X. 127—Lord W.’s
account of his behaviour at the Tuil-
leries, V. 515 ; X. 127—his threatened
invasions of England, V. 518 ; X. 121,
128—return from Elba, V. 539 —
battle of Waterloo, 541; XXI. 751—
Canova’s bust of, VI. 97—the press
under, 1II. 316—on field-fortification,
IX. 784—at Weimar,X. 601—his Code,
132 ; XIII. 184 ; XVIII. 736—his
treatment of the. Poles, XVIII. 207
—war with the Prussians, 684—policy
in Spain, XX. 505—tactics, XXI. 738,
seq.—See the Chronological Table
VI. 679, et seq.
Napoleon’s Land, XV. 734.
Napoli di Romania, XV. 734.
Xappah, town in India, XV. 734.
Nakaingunge, in Bengal, XV. 734.
Nakaingur, in Bengal, XV. 734.
Nakangabad, in Oude, XV. 734.
Naranjos,, islands, XV. 734.
Nabasinghapooe, XV. 734.
Narberth, Welsh town, XV. 734.
Narbonne, XV. 734—canal of, XVI. 5.
Narcissus, in fabulous history, X V. 734.
 , flower, XI. 683.
Narcondam, island, XV. 734.
Narcotic poisons, XIV. 504; XVIII. 176
-treatment of sufferers from, 181.
Narcotin, VI. 461—salts of, 462.
Nar, river, XVI. 16, 246.
Nariad, town in India, XV. 734.
Na2ik.ee, town in India, XV. 734.
Narlah, town in India, XV. 735.
Narnallah, town in India, XV. 735.
Narni, Italian city, XV. 735.
Narnoul, in India, XV. 735.
Naro, Silician city, XV. 735.
Narration, XV. 7-35.
Narrow, various meanings of, VIII. 12.
Narrows, river, IV. 330.
Narses, VII. 275; XII. 465,
 , king of Persia, XVII. 261.
Narsingah, in India, XV. 735.
Narsingur, Bengal, XV. 735.
Narsipoor, in India, XV. 735.
Narungpore, in India, XV. 735.
Narva, XV. 735—battle of, XIX. 542.
Narwar, in India, XV. 735.
Narwhal, XIV, 182.
Nartm, in Asiatic Russia, XV. 736.
Nasal bone, II. 777—cavities, 785, 797—
muscles, 794.
Nasebt, XV. 736—battle of, V. 328.
Naseus, fish, XII. 190.
Nashville, in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
Nasmyth’s carriage, driven by wind,
'XIV. 444.
Naso, town in Sicily, XV. 736.
Nassa, in conchology, XV. 347.
Nassau, XV. 736—mineral springs of,
XXI. 93—weights and measures, 854,
  (William), Prince of Orange,
XVI. 106. See Maurice.
Nasstv-Eddin Al-Tussi, X. 428.
Nassuck, town in India, XV. 737.
Nasua, in zoology, XIV. 107.
Nataana, town in India, XV. 737.
Natal, in Sumatra, XV. 737—in Brazil,
XIX. 245—Port Natal, XII. 659.
Natautia, mollusca, XV. 350.
Notches, American tribe, II. 620.
Natchez, in Mississippi, XV. 300.
Nathan (Mordecai), his reputed divi¬
sion of the chapters of the Bible into
verses, IV. 612.
Natiidorah, town in India, XV. 737.
Natica, in conchology, XV. 348.
Nation, XV. 737. See Law of,Nations.
National character, difficulty of estimat¬
ing, IV. 162—diversity of national
tastes, 491.
Debt of the United Kingdom,
VIII. 796 ; X. 244—Sir R. Walpole’s
plan for lessening it, V. 377—Pitt’s
plan of a sinking-fund, 439.
 Schools in England, XXI. 529.
Natividad, island, XV. 737.
Nativity, XV. 737.
Natolia, XV. 737.
Natrix, serpent, XX. 141.
Natrolite, XV. 151—its sp. gr., XII. 33.
Natron, XV. 737, 137, 138—Egyptian
valley of, VIII. 518.
Nattam, XV. 737.
Natter-jack, reptile, XIX. 157.
Nattore, town in Bengal, XV. 737.
Nattradacotta, town in Hindustan,
XV. 7 37.
Natunas, island, XV. 738.
Natural, XV. 733.
Natural History, XV. 738—means
of rendering it a precise science, II.
112—study of, recommended, IX. 60,
239—useful to physicians, XIV. 525
—province of, XVII. 433. See Ani¬
mal Kingdom, Botany, Mineralogy,
&c.; also the articles enumerated in
Vol. III. p. 180.
Natural Philosophy, XV. 741; XVII.
565. See Physics.
Natural Theology. See Theology (Na¬
tural), God.
Naturalists, advice to, XX. 121.
Nature, XV. 741—tile WOrd used by
philosophers as synonymous with
God, I. 279 —plastic, XVII. 797-
law of, XIII. 129—constancy of, XVII.
434, 574—laws of, 434, 438, 561, 574,
593; XXI. 586 ; with reference to
prayer, XVIII. 505.
Nauclerus, fish, XII. 186.
 > bird, XVI. 564.
Naucoris, insect, IX. 199.
Naucrari, XV. 741.
Naucrates, fish, XII. 185.
Namcum, ifi botany, V. 48.
Naude (Gabriel), on the classification of
books, IV. 631, 632.
Naulum, XV. 741.
Naumachia, XV. 741.
Naumburg, Prussian city, XV. 741—
library at, XIII. 314.
Naupactus, a city «f -Etolia, XV. 741.
Nauplius, son of Neptune, XV. 741.
Nauscopy, XV. 742.
Nautical Almanack, XIV. 279,
Nautilacea, mollusca, XV. 352.
Nautilus, in conchology, XV. 344, 353
—Lacustris, 345.
Nautpoor, in Bengal, XV. 742.
Navacott, in India, XV. 742.
Naval Tactics, XXI. 754—Camp, XV.
742—Signals, XX. 331. See Navy.
Telegraph.
  Academy, at Portsmouth, II.
77 ; VIII. 84—Scottish, 424.
Navan, Irish town, XV. 742.
: Navarino, Greek town, XV. 742—battle
! of, X. 751; V. 572.
Navarre, in Spain, XV. 74 3—Moorish
kingdom of, XX. 495, 497—conquered
by Ferdinand, 499.
 (Martin), XV. 744.
Nave, in architecture, XV. 744.
Navel chord, II. 827.
Naviceila, mollusca, XV. 364.
Navicular disease in horses, XXT. 619.
Navigation, XV. 745—use of the ba¬
rometer in, IV. 394—dhection and
velocity of currents, VII. 552 —
expeditious methods for obtaining the
resulting motion in complicated cases,
VIII. 362—its obligations to natural
philosophy, 573—action of wind on
ships, XVIII. 114—Phoenician navi¬
gation, XVII. 452—steam-navigation,
XX. 686. See Latitude, Longitude,
Resistance of Fluids, Seamanship.
Navigation (Inland), XVI. 1—dredg-
i ln!f> VIII. 193—modes of rendering
small rivers navigable, XIX. 290—in
America,' XI. 614 ; XXI. 455-6, 469,
470—Asia, III. 678—Canada, VI. 58,
63—China, 580—the Elbe, VIII. 563
France, X. 172—the Ganges, IV. 568
—the Severn, XIX. 621—the Tigris,
IV. 279—the United States, XXI.
470—-proposed navigation across the
American isthmus, II. 651 ; XVI.
201, 786. See Canals, Brindley
Navigation-laws, VII. 160, 122 ; V. 557.
Navigators’ Islands, in the Pacific
Ocean, XVI. 37; XVIII. 323.
Navy, XVI. 38—British, V. 440—pas¬
sion for enlarging it to excess, VII.
122 proposal to lay up ships in or¬
dinary on dry land, VIII. 78—dock¬
yards, ib.—Commissioners of the, 86,
87—Treasurer of the, 87—improved
discipline in the, XX. 58—Lord St
Vincent’s exposure oi abuses in the,
XXI. 652—mutiny in 1797, V. 481;
VIII. 277—Austrian, IV. 234 Da¬
nish, VII. 729—Egyptian, VIII. 504
—French, X. 509—Russian, XIX. 574
—Spanish, XX. 523—Turkish, XXI.
425—of the United States, 480. See
Dry Rot, Rank, Rates, Ship-buildinsr,
Timber.
Naxia, Greek island, XVI. 66.
Naxos, XVI. 66.
Nayades, in conchology, XV. 341.
Nayo, island, XVI. 66.
Nayres, XVI. 66; XL 398 ; XIV. 50
Nazarenes, XVI. 66—the Apostles
first so called, VI. 620.
Nazareth, XVI. 66, 743.
Nazauite, XVI. 66.
Nazim, river, XVI. 67.
NAzpoK, Armenian lake, XVI. 67.
Neagh (Lough), in Ireland, XIII. 569 •
HI. 572; XII. 390; XVII. 523—its’
navigation, XVI. 23.
Nealing. See Annealing.
Neamutserai, Afghan village, XVI 67
Neap-Tides, XVI. 67 ; XXI. 259. '
Neaped, XVI. 67.
Nearchus, XVI. 67—voyage of, HI.
696; X. 391—fleet of, XX. 211.
NEA—NEG
Neas, island, XVI. 68.
Neath, XVI. 69—canal, 16.
Nebo, XV. 685.
Nebria, insect, IX. 132.
Nebuchadnezzar, XV. 685; XL 472
—his improvement of Babylon, IV.
266—his invasion of Egypt, VIII
467.
Nebulae, IV. 47—in the cornea of the
eyes.of animals, XXI. 635.
Nebuly, in heraldry, XVI. 69.
Necessity, doctrine of, XVI. 69 ; XIV,
688 ; I. 268—maintained by Leibnitz,
128—opinions of Locke, 143; Col¬
lins, 148, 265 ; Baron de Grimm and
M. Diderot, 150, 270; Hobbes, 268 ;
Edwards, 148, 341—schemes of, con¬
nected with atheism in modern phi¬
losophy, 266—argument for, drawn
from the divine prescience, 270—con¬
troversies on, VIII. 455., See Will.
 , in mythology, XVI. 09.
Necho, king of Egypt, XVI. 69 ; VIII.
467—voyage of, X. 389.
Neck, vertebrae of the, II. 760 -muscles
of, 79 3—sprain of, in the domestic
animals,-XXI. 618.
Necker (James), French statesman,
XVI. 70 ; X. 38, 39, 49, et seq., 122.
 Isles, XV,1. 72.
Necrobia, insect, IX. 145.
Necrodes, insects,.IX. 148.
Necrolium. in afchemy, XVI. 72.
Necrology, XVI. 72.
Necromancy, XVI. 72.
Necrophorus, insect, IX. 147.
Necropolis, in,Egypt, XVI. 73.
Necrosis, XVI. 73; XXI. 615.
Nectanibus, Egyptian king, XVI. 73.
Nectar, XVI. 7$.
Nectarine, a fruit, XVI. 73—culture
of, XI. 641.
Nectarinia, bird, XVI. 589.
Nectarium or Nectary of flowers, XVI.
73; III. 96; V. 42.
Necydalis, insect,'IX. 179.
Nedjed, in. Arabia, XVI. 74 : III. 326.
Need (Mr) his improvements in cotton¬
spinning, VII. 407.
Needham (John Tuberville), XVI. 75-
on animalcules and mucor, III. 191
—on hieroglyphics, XI. 304, note 1.
Needham-Market, in Suffolk, XVI. 75.
Needle, XVI. 75.
 (Dipping), XVI. 76; VIII. 38;
XIII. 767, et seq.
■  (Magnetic), XVI. 76 ; XIII.
685, et seq.—its form and construction,
764.
   (Astatic), XIII. 771.
Needles, in Isle of Wight, XVI. 76.
Needwood Forest, XVI. 76.
Neelab, Hindu town, XVI. 76.
Neel abound ah, XVI. 76.
Neelgound, Indian fortress, XVI. 76.
Neelgunge, Hindu town, XVI. 76.
Ne Exeat Regno, in law, XVI. 76.
Nefasti Dies, XVI. 76.
Negada, islands, XVI. 76.
Negapatam, in India, XVI. 77.
Negation, in logic, XVI. 77.
Negative, XVI. 77.
   Electricity, VIII. 576, 578.
  — Sign, in Algebra, XVI. 77.
Neginoth, Hebrew term, XVI. 77.
Negombo, in Ceylon, XVI. 77.
Negrais Isle, XIV. 77.
Negroes, XVI. 78—of Abyssinia, II,
62—interior Of Africa, 237—America,
IL 641, et seq.; 649—Barbary, IV.
364—Brazil, 11. 641; V. 202—Buenos
Ayres, 654—Chili, VI. 537—Colombia,
VIII. 92—Jamaica, XII. 497—Moroc¬
co, X V. 509—Sierra Leone, XX. 330-1
—the United States, 11.647—probably
the aborigines of Africa, 223—supe¬
rior to the American Indians, 632-
first importation of, into America,
636—their extraordinary number iu
Brazil, 641—their skin, 750, 751—
skull, 784—proportion of skull and
face, III. 7—complexion, VII. 190—
love of dancing, 613—insurrection in
INDEX
109
NEG—NER
St Domingo, VIII. 104 — language,
XIII. 94 — countenance, XIV. 198,
199—unknown to Europeans till seen
by the crusaders, XX. 383—Negro or
Ethiopian race of man, II. 709 ; XIV.
200 ; XVII. 554, 697.
'fegro-slavery, XX. 383. See Slavery.
Vegro (Rio), river, XVI. 79; V. 198;
XV. 432 ; XVII. 524 ; XVIII. 5—its
connection with the river Amazon,
XVI. 537.
 (Rio), population of province of
that name, V. 202.
'fegroland, XVI. 224.
■fEGROPONT, XVI. 79 ; IX. 390.
'Iegros, island, XVI. 80.
fegundo-tree, XVII. 787.
ntehaveni>, Persian town, XVI. 80.
seiiemiah, prophet, XVI. 80.
»teiderselters, German town, XVI. 81.
sTeilgherry Hills, XVII. 503.
^eill (Dr P.). on the siren, XIX. 162.
veilliese, in botany, V. 107.
'i’eilson (J. B.), his hot-blast furnace.
X. 559,; XX. 407.
niesse, Prussian city, XVI. 81.
vTeith, Egyptian deity, VIII. 552.
neitra, in Hungary, XVI. 81.
nejin, Russian city, XVI. 81.
'eleus, a custodier of Aristotle’s works,
III. 494.
S’elken, island, XIX. 590.
'’eeson (Horatio Lord Viscount), XVI.
81—battle of Cape St Vincent, V.
481—battle of Aboukir, 485 ; VIII.
489 ; X. 109—attack on Copenhagen,
V. 501 ; VII. 724 ; X. 120—battle of
Trafalgar,V.519—his passage through
Strait of Messina, XV. 698.
itlumbonete, in botany. V. 96.
feraatocera, insects, IX 161.
lematoidea, zoophytes, XXI. 997.
Iemea, in Argolis, XVI. 92.
'Emean Games, XVI. 92.
fEMEsiAnus (Aurelius Olympius), Latin
poet, XVI. 92.
7emesis, XVI. 92.
'EMEsics, Greek philosopher, XVI. 93.
■femi, lake, XVII. 523.
s’emognathus, insect, IX. 170. *
>’emoptera, insects, IX. 212.
'emosoma, insects, IX. 176.
\emotelus, insect, IX. 271.
semoura, insect, IX. 214.
'emoijrs, French town, XVI. 93.
'fen, river, XL 757 ; XVI. 251—its na¬
vigation, XVI. 16.
'fENAGH, Irish town, XVI. 93.
'Iexia, funeral song, XVI. 93.
Veomakia, Greek festival, XVI. 93.
'feophron, bird, XVI. 560.
n'eophttes, XVI. 93.
'co-Platonists, philosophical system of
the, XII. 505.
feoptolemus, king of Epirus, IX. 312.
— Parianus, antiquary, XII. 291.
(fEOTs (St), English towns, XVI. 93. ;
'fepa, insect, IX. 199.
'(epaue, in Hindustan, XVI. 93—war
with the British, XI. 437.
'fEPEAN ISLANP, XVI, 101.
Point, on the coast of New
Holland, XVI. 101.
'fepentheae, in botany, V. 128.
'fepheline, in mineralogy, XV. 152 
specific gravity of, XII. 33.
'fephelis, worm. XL 226.
N’epheris, VI. 204—taken by the Ro¬
mans, 205.
'fephrite, in mineralogy, XV. 148.
fephritis in animals, XXI. 628.
•fephrotoma, insect, IX. 261.
'fephthe, VIII. 553 ; XI. 321.
fephthys, worm, XI. 220.
'fepides, insects, IX. 198.
'fEPOMOK, Bohemian town, XVI. 101.
'>epos ( Cornelius), XVI. 101.
7 7 (Julius), emperor, XIX. 423.
wpotianus (F. P.), VII 272
Jeptcne, XVI. 101;,XIV. 330.
Neptune’s Isles, XVI. 102.
fEBAC, in France, XVI. 102.
'Ebbuddah, river, XVI. 102.
NER—NEU
Nebeids, sea-nymphs, XVI. 102.
Nereis, worm, XI. 220.
Nereus, marine deity, XVI. 102.
Nerita, in conehology, XV. 348.
Nero (Claudius Csesar), XVI. 102 —
reign of, XIX. 403—his palace, 425
—his banqueting-house, IV. 352.
Nebtschink, town in Asia, XVI. 103.
Nertshinskoi Mountains, XX. 326.
Nerva (M. Cocceius), Roman emperor,
XVI. 103—reign of, XIX. 406.
Nerves, XVI. 104—Aristotle and others
on the, II. 687, et seq.—anatomical
researches on the, 704—their struc¬
ture, 731; XVII. 660—ganglions, II.
733 — plexuses, 734 — terminations,
735—different uses, ib.— of the eye,
800 ; ear, 802; tongue, 804 ; larynx,
896—anatomy of the, 812—chemical
character of, VI. 504—necessary to
sensation, XIV. 603—decussation of,
XVII. 676—of sensation and motion,
ib. — respiratory, 677 — cutting of,
XXI. 634. See Nervous System.
•Nervous diseases, infants subject to, XII.
271—in animals, XXI. 632.
 system of man, XVII. 579, 659;
XIV. 581—anatomy of, II. 806—of
brutes, III. 30; XVII. 702, etseq.;
XIV. 581 —of the invertebrata. III.
172; Crustacea, VII. 498 ; insects,
IX. 76, 89; fishes, XII. 157; mol-
lusca, XV. 326, 350, et seq. ; zoo¬
phytes, XXI. 990—valuations of, in
different animals, III. 163—animals
more intelligent the greater its per¬
fection, 165—not apparent in animal¬
cules, 182—effects of custom on the,
VII. 562—influence of its states on
the mind, VIII. 441; on various or¬
gans, XVII. 135; on digestion, 630;
on secretion, 652—symptoms of its
disease found in remote organs, 484.
See Brain, Nerves, Spinal Marrow.
— power, XVII. 593.
 substance, III. 158.
 temperament, XVII. 697.
 tissue, II. 731.
Nesa, in Tartary, XVI. 104.
NESHiN. in Russia, XVI. 104.
Ness (Loch), XII. 334 ; XVII. 523—
never freezes, VI. 749—navigation of,
XVI. 10.
Nesscs, fabled Centaur, XVI. 104.
Nests of ants, III. 242—edible, V. 138—
of birds; see Ornithology, passim.
Neston, in Cheshire, XVI. 104.
Nestor, iGreek leader, XVI. 104—cha¬
racter of, XVIII. 150.
 , historian, XVI. 104.
Nestobians, Christian sect, XVI. 104.
Nestorius, XVI. 105.
Net, XVI. 105 ; XIX. 188.
Netherlands, XVI. 106—Duke of Al¬
va’s tyrannical proceedings in, II. 578
—manufacture of Eal-ammoniae, 661
—war of independence. III. 596—
armj* 611—disturbances in 1789, V.
457 — conquered by the French in
1792, 465—commerce of, VII. 158—
French trade with, X. 189—history
of, XI. 509—variation of the needle
in, XIII. 733, 736—coins, XV. 407,
410—births, deaths, &e., 533—Fie.
mish school of painting, III 648;
XVI. 721—the Reformation, XIX.
95—computation of tonnage of ships,
XXL 329—map of, XVI. PI. 380.
See Belgium.
Netopion, ointment, XVI. 144.
Netravuttiy river, XVI. 144.
Nett weight, III. 555.
Nettings (ship’s), XVI. 144.
Nettle, prickle of the. III. 70.
Nettuno, XVII. 3.
Neu-Brandenburg, XVI. 144.
Neudorf, Hungarian city, XVI. 144.
Neufchateau, XVI. 145.
Neufchatel, in France, XVI. 145.
 , Swiss canton, XVI. 145; XVIII.
695—lake of, XXI. 46—manufactures
of, 49—education in, 50.
Neugradiska, in Hungary, XVI. 145.
NEU—NEW
Neuilly, centre employed for the bridge
of, VI. 286, 289.
Neuman’s burning-mirror, V. 735.
Neumann (C. A.), on pseudonymous
books, IV. 628.
Neuradeae, in botany, V. 113.
Neuralgia, XVII. 484.
Neurilema, XVII. 660 ; II. 732—in the
foetus, 736.
Neurology. See Nervous System.
Neuroptera, insects, IX. 59, 208.
Neurotomy, XXI. 634.
Neusatz, Hungarian city, XVI. 145.
Neusol, Hungarian city, XVI. 145. •
Neuss, Prussian city, XVI. 145.
Neiistadt, Silesian city, XVI. 145.
 , Bavarian city, XVI. 145.
Neustadtl, XVI. 145.
Neuter, XVI. 145.
Neuterchenfeld, XVI. 146.
Neutitschein, Austrian city, X VI. 146.
Neutra-skins, X. 264, 266.
Neutrality (armed) of 1780, V. 415 ;
VII. 723.
Neuwied, in Prussia, XVI. 146.
Neva, Russian river, XVI. 146 ; IV.
330; XVII. 319; XIX. 565.
Nevers, in France, XVI. 146.
Nevis, island, XVI. 146.
 (Ben),XII.334—suowon,VI. 755
—electrical phenomena on, VIII. 620.
Nevtn, Welsh town, XVI. 146.
New Abbey, in Kildare, XVI. 146.
New Albany, in Indiana, XII. 266.
New Albion, II. 384.
New Amsterdam, IV. 579.
New Archangel, II. 648 ; XIX. 590.
New Bedford, XVI. 147 ; XIV. 305.
New Biscay, VIII. 287.
New Britain, V. 585 ; IV. 212.
New Brunswick, British American pro¬
vince, XVI. 147—weights and mea¬
sures of, XXI. 854.
-— , in New Jersey, XII. 543.
New Buckenham, in Norfolk, V. 634.
New Caledonia, IV. 214 ; XVI. 526.
New England, XXL 451, n. 3—settle¬
ment of, XIV. 306—persecution of
Quakers in, XVIII. 770—prosecutions
for witchcraft in, XXI. 908.
New Forest, XVI. 157 ; XI. 128.
New Galloway, XVI. 163.
New Granada, XXI. 592—weights and
measures of, 854.
New Guinea, IV. 210 ; XVII. 48.
New Hampshire, XVI. 163, 156—
canals in, 24 ; XXI. 470.
New Hanover, XI 140.
New Haven, American city, XVI. 166
—Yale College of, VII. 263.
New Hebrides, XI. 204; IV. 213.
New Holland, IV. 208—history of
discovery in, 204 ; VII. 297 ; X. 402
—botany of, V. 76—emigration to,
VIII. 688, 689—insects of, IX. 103-
serpents of, XX. 133, 134, 137.
New Inn, London, XII. 282.
New Ireland, XII. 427 ; IV. 212.
New Jersey, XII. 542—canals in, XVI.
25 ; XXI. 471—railroads, 473.
New Lanark, XIII. 50.
New Leon, in Mexico, XIV. 818.
New London, in Connecticut, XVI.
166 ; XIII. 550 ; XII. 591.
New Madrid, in Missouri, XV. 304.
New Mexico, XIV. 820.
New Orleans, XIII. 573—British at¬
tempt on, in 1814, V. 538—founda¬
tions of buildings in, 664.
New Providence, IV. 283.
New River, XI. 284.
New Ross, in Wexford, XVI. 167.
New South Wales, XXI. 711—penal
colonyof, VII. 116—wool of, XXI.932.
New Year’s Gifts, XVI. 182.
New York, American state, XVI. 182
—canals in, XVI. 24; XXI. 470—
railroads, 473—stocks and bonds, 479
—New York city, XVI. 194.
New Zealand, XXL 975; IV. 215—
cannibalism in III. 249—botany of,
V. 78—Captain Cook’s visits to, VII.
296, 299, 301. See next article.
NEW
New Zealand flax, XXI. 823, 720.
New Zealand Association and Company
XXI. 978.
Newark, town in Nottinghamshire.
XVI. 146—battle of, V. 326.
 , town in New Jersey, XVI 147 -
XII. 543.
Newars of Nepaul, XVI. 96, 98.
Newbald Cape, XVI. 147.
Newbern, in N. Carolina, XVI. 147.
Newborough, Welsh town, XVI. 147.
Newburgh, in Fifeshire, XVI. 150'.
Newburn-upon-Tyne, battle of, V. 317.
Newbury, town in Berkshire, XVI. 150
—battle of, V. 324.
 , in Massachusetts, XIV. 305.
Newcastle, Welsh town, XVI. 150.
 , Irish town, XVI. 150.
  (Duchess of). See Cavendish
(Margaret).
Newcastle-under-Line, in Stafford¬
shire. XVI. 150—canal, 16.
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, XVI. 151—im¬
proved system of working and venti¬
lating collieries at, VII. 83—the
Ouseburn bridge at, XX. 377.
Newcomen (Thomas), his steam-engine,
XX. 623, 635 ; X. 554.
Newel, Russian circle, XVI. 155.
 , in architecture, III. 468.
Newenham (Mr), on the Irish corn-laws.
VII. 343—on the effect of the Irish
cottage-system, 390.
Newent, in Gloucester, XVI. 157.
Newfoundland, XVI 158—discovered
by the Norwegians, II. 635 ; by the
Icelanders, XII. 143; by Cabot,XVIII.
216—fisheries of, VIII. 770; IX. 605
—attempt to deprive the New Eng¬
landers of fishery, V. 403—fog on the
Banks of, XVII. 535—weights and
measures of, XXI 854.
Newgate, XIII. 528 ; XVIII. 585.
Newhaven, in Sussex, XVI. 166.
———, Scotch village, XVI. 166—ferry
at, IX. 767.
Newington, in Surrey, XVI. 166.
 (Stoke), in Middlesex, XVI. 166
Newman’s blowpipe, TV. 715:
Newmills, in Ayrshire, XVl. 160.
Newnham (Mr), V. 443.
Newport, in Cornwall, XVI. 167.
—■ , in Salop, XVI. 167.
 , in Kentucky, XII. 699.
 , in Pembroke, XVI. 167.
  , in Monmouth, XVI. 167.
  —, in Isle of Wight, X VI. 167.
 , in Rhode Island, XIX. 223.
Newport-Pagnell, town in Bucking¬
hamshire, XVI. 167—Canal, ib.
Newry, Irish town, XVI. 167; VIII.
134—navigation, XVI. 23.
Newsham’s fire-engine, XII. 100.
Newspapers, XVI. 167—paper for,X VII.
19—conveyance of, by post, XVIII.
489—of Buenos Ayres, V. 655 Glas¬
gow, X. 545 ; India, XI. 465 Nor¬
way, XVI- 273; and Turkey, XXI.
426—Roman Acfa Diurna, II. 130—
Pekin Gazette, VI. 552 — Egyptian
Moniteur, Vl’II. 529 — New Zealand
Gazette, XXL 980.
Newton, in Lancashire, XVI. 175.
 , in Isle of Wight, XVI. 175.
———j in Montgomeryshire, XVI. 175.
 — Bushel, Devonshire, XVI. 175.
 (Adam), VII. 545.
 (Sir Isaac), XVI. 175—remarks
on some queries of, I. 69—effects of
his discoveries, 140—his contribu¬
tions to metaphysics, ib.; to optics,
I. 545, et seq., 631, 472 ; II. 29 ; VI.
632 ; XIII. 331, etseq.; XVI. 361,
403, 427, 429, 434 446, 510; to as¬
tronomy, I. 560-2; III. 743; to ma¬
thematics, XIV. 318, 321—state of the
sciences when he appeared-, I. 518—
problem of quadrature of circle ib.—
binomial theorem, ib.—his discovery
of fluxions, 519, et seq.; IX. 632—his
controversy with Leibnitz, I. 520;
XIV. 318, 321; VIII. 377—his works
on the new analysis, I. 530—his tract
no
INDEX
new—NIC
on the quadrature of curves, I. 531—
his hook of Fluxions, ib.—discoveries
contained in his Prineipia, 536—cha¬
racter of that work, 139; X. 4 3 0; XIY.
319, 352 — character of his Optics,
II. 99 ; I. 139—his discovery of gravi¬
tation, 554, et seq. ; IV. ITS—on the
causes of the irregularity of the moon’s
motion, I. 560 — determined mean
quantity of retrogradation of line of
moon’s nodes, ib.—on the precession
of the equinoxes, 562—his philoso¬
phy has received repeated improve¬
ments, all confirming its truth, 563—
on the tides, 563-4 ; XXI. 260—on
orbits of comets, I. 565 ; VII. 137—
on the nature of gravity, I. 568—com¬
pared with Leibnitz, 571—his ther¬
mometer, 6415 IV. 393 5 XXI. 237
—his theory of the moon, I. 663—
his telescope, II. 99 ; XVI. 360 ; XXI.
148—his optical errors, II. 100—his
theory of sound, 115—on sether, 198 ;
XIV. 532—his formula of the chords
of multiple arcs, 493—on the history
and chronology of Antseus, III. 245
—his attempt to solve a problem of
Apollonius, 289—on comets, IV. 40
—on the gradation of the atmosphe¬
ric density, 398—his burning-mir¬
rors, V. 735—on chemical attraction,
VI. 356—Dr Clarke’s Latin transla¬
tion of his Optics, 729—on the coin¬
age, VII. 37 — on halos, 372—on
crystallization. 506—his obligations
to Dr Barrow, VIII. 377-—Leibnitz’s
envious detraction of, ib.—his inverse
problem of centripetal forces, 384—on
electricity, 566—on the earth’s figure,
I. 561; IX. 547; XVII. 498—on pro¬
jectiles, XL 43—on hydrodynamics,
XII. 3, 52, 76, 82 ; XIX. 257 —
his correspondence with Locke, I.
118; XlII. 413—his temper pertur¬
bable, ib.,n.—his mental aberrations,
413, 414—on magnetism, 687—on
the lever, XIV. 360—his reflecting
microscope, XV. 41—on the source of
planetary motion, 574—on the at¬
traction of mountains, 583—com¬
pared with Aristotle, XVII. 435—
his rules of philosophizing, 4 41-2—his
definition of fluid, 567 —on pneuma¬
tics, XVIII. 102. 113, 115, 117, 118
—on the resistance to lulling bodies,
645—on measure of force, 780—on
the resistance, of fluids, XIX. 165—
his demonstration of the 28th lemma
of the first Book of his Principia,
XX. 554—on moving forces, 565—on
cohesion, 751—on the alternate at¬
traction and repulsion of light by-
bodies, 752. See Newtonian Philo¬
sophy.
Newton (Thomas), bishop, XVI. 181.
Newton’s metal, IV. 653.
Newton-Stew ART,ii)Wigton.shire, XVI.
182 ; XXI. 883.
Newton-tjfon-Ayb, IV. 258; III. 258.
Newtonian Philosophy, XVI. 181—
slow reception of, 1.566—first publicly
taught in Scotland, 567, 249 —its
progress in France, 567, 576; in Eng¬
land, 576-7—Dr Clarke’s mode of in¬
troducing it at Cambridge, VI. 728.
See Dynamics, Gravitation, Newton.
Newts, XIX. 159.
Newtyle railway, VIII. 281.
Newty Fokt, in Hindustan, XVI. 182.
Nexi, XVI. 197.
Ney (Michel), XVI. 197; X. 159, 160.
Neyer, in Hindustan, XVI. 198.
Nghanchan, XVI. 198.
Nganlo, Chinese town, XVI. 198.
Ngola, III. 151.
Nhing-Koue, in China, XVI. 198.
Niagaka, river, XVI. 198 —falls of,
199; VI, 59 ; XVII. 522, 524, 525.
Niagur, Hindu town, XVI. 199.
Nias, or Neas Isle, XVI. 68.
Nicaise of'Malines, IV. 700.
Nicander, physician, XVI. 199.
  , iEtolian pretor, II. 599.
NIC—NIE
Nicander (H.), on mortality in Sweden,
XV. 518, 547.
Nicandro (St), in Naples, XVI. 200.
Nicaragua, American state, XVI. 200 ;
XI. 17, 19—lake, II. 651.
Nicaria, island, XVI. 202.
Nicastro, in Naples, XVI. 202.
Nice, XVI. 202.
  (Council of), XIX. 416—on the
celebration of Easter, VI. 8.
Nicephorus (Calistus), XVI. 202.
 — (Gregoras), XVI. 202.
 , Roman emperor, VII. 282.
Niceron (John Francis), XVI. 202.
-» (John Peter), XVI. 203.
Nicetas (David), XVI. 203.
 (Achominates), XVI. 203.
 , astronomer. III. 728.
Niche, in architecture, III. 462, 468.
Nicholas I., of Russia, XIX. 562.
 , Sicilian diver, VIII. 60.
Nichols (Frank), physician, XVI. 203.
Nicholsburg, Moravian city, XVI. 204.
Nicholson (Margaret), hei attempt to
assassinate George III., V. 442.
 (P.), his project for the employ¬
ment of iron in roofs, VI. 169—on
carpentry, XII. 605.
 (William), his printing-machine,
XVIII. 570.
Nicholson’s araeometer, HI. 371—spin¬
ning condenser of electricity, VIII.
651—revolving doubler, 652—hydro¬
meter, XII. 23—galvanic experiments,
XXI. 678.
Nicias, Athenian statesman, XVI. 204;
IV. 157, 158.
 , painter, XVI. 205 ; XVI. 704.
Nickel, VI. 408—its alloy with copper,
416.; with iron, VII. 566—salts of
protoxide of, VI. 449—specific gravity
of, XII. 33—magnetism of, XIII.
708.
Nickeline, specific gravity of, XII. 33.
Nickel-Pyrites, XV. 166.
Nicobar Islands, XVI. 205 — bread¬
fruit of the, V. 213-14.
Nicodamus, II. 599.
Nicodemus, XVI. 206.
Nicol’s prism, XVI. 477.
Nicolai’s spectral illusions, III. 303.
Nicolaiev, XVI. 206; IV. 660.
Nicolaitans, heretics, XVI. 206.
Nicolas (St), in Flanders, XVI. 206.
  St), island, XVI. 206.
Nicole (Peter), theologian, XVI. 207.
  — on the quadrature of the circle,
XX. 554.
Nicolson (Bishop), his character of Sir
Thomas Craig, VII. 443, n. 1.
Nicomachus, Greek painter, XVI. 704.
Nicomedes, Bithynian kings, XVI. 208;
VI. 126 ; XVIII. 349.
Nicomedia, in Bithynia, XVI. 208.
Nicomedus, geometer, XVI. 208 ; X.
426—the conchoid first proposed by,
III. 129.
Nicopolis, in Turkey, XVI. 208.
Nicosia, in Sicily, XVI. 208.
Nicot (John), XVI. 208.
Nicotera, in Naples, XVI. 208.
Nicotiana, XVI. 208. See Tobacco.
Nicotin, VI. 468.
Nictitating membrane, III. 25.
Niddui, XVI. 209.
Nidegh, Turkish town, XVI. 209.
Nidification, XVI. 209.
Nidjigul, Indian fortress, XVI. 209.
Nidus, XVI. 209.
Nidycavil, Indian village, XVI. 209.
Niebuhr (B. G.), historian, XVI. 209—
on the Etruscans, IX. 384—his Ro¬
man History, XI. 499; XII. 293—
his literary discoveries ' at Verona,
XVI. 767-8—on the Pelasgians, XVII.
178.
 (Carsten), traveller, XVI. 209—
on Arabia, III. 325, et seq.
Niece, XVI. 217.
Niemen, Polish river, XVI. 217; XVIII.
690; XIX. 566.
Nieper, Polish river, XVI. 217 ; IV.
660 ; XIX. 564.
NIE—NIT
Niester, river, XVI. 217; XIX. 564
mouth of the, IV. 660.
Nieuport, in Flanders, XVI. 217 —
battle of, XVI. 115.
Nieuwentyt, his opposition to the geo¬
metry of Newton, I. 533 ; IX. 637.
Nievre, in France, XVI. 218.
Niger, river, XVI. 218 — course and
termination of, II. 238; IV. 402
hypothesis of its connection with the
Nile, VIII. 512—expeditions of dis¬
covery to the, X. 403.
 (Pescennius), XIX. 409.
Night, XVI. 223—nocturnal birds, 565.
Night-mare, or incubus, VIII. 189.
Nightingale, XVI. 576.
Night-watching, XVI. 223.
Nightshade (deadly), poisonous quality
of, XVIII. 177.
Nigidius Figulus (Publius), Roman
author, XVI. 224.
Nigrine, XV, 160—specific gravity of,
XII. 33.
Nioritia, or Soudan, XVI. 224.
Nijibabad, Hindu town, XVI. 224.
Nikolajew. See Nicolaiev.
Nikolsk, in Russia, XVI. 224.
Nikolskoi, Russian town, XVI. 224.
Nilcund, Hindu town, XVI. 224.
Nilcundah, Hindu town, XVI. 224.
Nile, river, XVI. 225; II. 239; HI.
675; VIII. 512, 458 ; IX. 379 ; XVI.
293; XIX. 252 ; XX. 95—its source,
II. 49, 220—its annual overflowings,
230 ; VIII. 513; XVII. 525 —canal
of the, II. <413—Bruce’s journey to
discover source of the, V. 606—battle
of the, 485; VIII. 489 ; X. 109 ; XVI.
86—Is lower Egypt its gift ? VIII. 507
—festival at its overflow, 529 — its
fertilizing mud, XII. 454—its naviga¬
tion, XVI 2.
Nilio, insect, IX. 165.
Nilometer, XVI. 229 ; VIII. 509,514;
664.
Nilson on Swedish birds, XVI. 550.
Nilus, VIII. 554; XI. 321, 328.
Nimbus, circle on medals, XVI. 229.
 , cloud, XVII. 534.
Nimetulahites, XVI. 229.
Nimrod, son of Cush, XVI. 229 III.
717; XVII. 358 ; XX. 381.
“ Nimrod ” on horses, XI. 598, et seq.~>
on riding, 608—on hunting, 747.
Nimwegen, XVI. 230.
Nine, XVI. 230.
Nine Islands, XVI. 230.
Nineveh, XVI. 230; XVI. 310—his¬
tory of, III. 684 —foundation of,
XVII. 358.
Ningpo, Chinese city, XVI. 231.
Ninian (St), XVI. 231; XXL 876.
Ninians (St), village in Stirlingshire,
XVI. 231.
Ninon de L’Enclos, XVI. 231.
Ninus, king of Assyria, XVI. 231 ; III.
717 ; XVII. 359.
Nio, island, XVI. 231.
NiobevXVI. 231.
Nions in France, XVI. 231.
Niort- in France, XVI. 232.
Niphon, island, XVI. 232; XII. 510.
 , fish, XII. 168.
Nippers, XVI. 232.
Nipples, II. 827.
Nirgua, Colombian city, XVI. 232.
Nirmul, Hindu town, XVI. 232.
Nisan, Hebrew month, XVI. 232.
Nishapour, Persian city, XVI. 232.
Nisiiegorod, in Russia, XVI. 232—
fair of, IX. 477 ; XIX. 576.
Nisibin, Persian village, XVI. 233.
Nisi Prius, in law, XVI. 233.
Nismes, XVI. 233—Roman aqueduct
at, III. 320—cotton-manufacture of,
VII. 417.
Nisroch, Assyrian god, XVI. 233.
Nisus, bird, XVI. 563.
Nitela, insect, IX. 230.
Nith, Scotch river, VIII. 263; XVI. 233
—its navigation, 16.
Nithsdale, XVI. 233.
Nitidula, insect, IX. 148.
NIT—NOL
Nitidularise, insects, IX. 148.
Nitocris, XVI. 233.
Nitrariese, in botany, V. 113.
Nitre. See Saltpetre.
Nitric acid, VI. 365—discovery of its
composition by Mr Cavendish, 262
—its poisonous quality, XIV. 503.
 Ether, VI. 439.
  Oxide, a poison, XIV. 503.
Nitrogen, or azote, VI. 364—a compo¬
nent part of the atmosphere, IV. 134;
XVII. 531—its specific gravity, IV.
135—an essential part of the food of
animals, VIII. 18.
Nitroleucic acid, VI. 431.
Nitrosaccharic acid, VI. 431.
Nitrous acid, VI. 366.
  Oxide, XIV. 503—discovery of
its properties, IV. 515; VII. 638—its
intoxicating quality, VIII. 217—its
effect on the spectrum, XVI. 425.
Nitsch (F. A.), his account of Kant’s
views regarding free will, I. 196.
Ni vellede l a Chaussee( Peter Claude),
French poet, XVI. 2.33.
Nivelles, in Belgium, XVI. 233.
Nivernais, canal of, XVI. 6.
Nizamee, Persian poet, XVII. 253.
Nizampatam. XVI. 233.
Nizolius (Marius), his revolt against the
authority of Aristotle, I. 25.
Nizza della Paglia, XVI. 233.
No, Egyptian city, XVI. 233.
Noacote, Hindu town, XVI. 234.
Noah, XVI 234 ; XI. 470—his Ark,
III. 567—Bryant on, VII. 691—dis¬
persion of his posterity, VIII. 42-
language used by, XVII. 355. See
Deluge.
Noailles (Marechal do), V. 87, 91.
Noanagur, XVI. 234.
Noath, vitrified fort on, IX. 756, 761.
Nob, city of Benjamin, XVI. 234.
Noba, island, XVI. 235.
Nobah, in Palestine, XVI. 235.
Nobili’s experiments on metallic colours
produced by voltaic currents, XXI.
680—his electro-magnetic multiplier,
688—on thermo-electricity, 696.
Nobiliary, XVI. 235.
Nobility, XVI. 235—Aristotle on, 111
526, n. 4.
Noble (M. le), his employment of the
magnet in medicine, XIV. 3.
 , coin, XVI 236.
Noble’s pump, XII. 98.
Nobles, XVI. 236—effect of the Cru¬
sades on the, VII. 492.
Nobreja, a Jesuit, V. 190.
Nocera de Pagani, city, XVI. 236.
Noctambuli, XVI. 236.
Noctilio, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Noctiluca, a kind of phosphorus, XVI-
236—zoophyte, XXI. 1018.
Noctua, bird, XVI. 566.
 , insect, IX. 249.
Noctuselites, insects, IX 248.
Nocturna, insects, IX. 244.
Nocturnal, XVI. 236—birds, 655.
Nod (Land of), XVI. 237.
Nodated Hyperbola, XVI. 237.
Noddy, bird, XVI. 633.
Nodes, XVI. 237 ; III. 765-of the
moon’s orbit, 786—of the planetary
orbits, IV. 19, 58.
Nodi,in botany, V. 33.
Nodier, novels of, XIX. 355.
Nodus, in dialling, XVI. 237.
Noel’s attack on Pascal, IV. 386.
Noesa Baron, island, XVI. 237.
 Cambaz, island, XVI. 237.
  Laoer, island, XVI. 237.
 Nessing, island, XVI. 237.
1 Noetians, heretics, XVI. 237.
Nogarcote, Hindu town, XVI. 237.
Nogent Le Rotrou, arrondissemeut
in France, XVI. 237.
 Sue Seine, in France, XVI. 23i.
—centre for the bridge of, VI. 285-
Noirmoutier, island, XVI. 237.
Noja, city of Naples, XVI. 237.
Nojmoddin, caliph of Egypt, VIII-
Nola, XVI. 237—battle of, VI. 200.
INDEX,
111
NOL—NOR
Nolle Prosequi, XVI. 237.
Nollekens (Joseph), XVI. 237—charac¬
ter of his sculpture, XX. 9.
Nollet (Jean Antoine), XVI. 239; I.
618—his controversy with Franklin,
V. 290—on electricity, VIII. 569, 639.
Nomada, insect, IX. 234.
Nomades, XVI. 240.
Nomarcha, XVI. 240.
Nombril Point, in heraldry, XVI. 240.
Nome, in algebra, XVI. 240.
Nomenclators, XVI. 240.
Nomenclature, XVI. 240 — of ana¬
tomy, IV. 378—of botany, V. 58—of
chemistry, VI. 350.
Nomeus,fish, XII. 186.
Nomia, insect, IX. 232.
Nominalists, XVI. 240 ; I. 312.
Nominative Case, XVI. 241; X. 643.
Nomophylaces of Athens, IV. 167.
Nomothetes of Athens, IV. 167.
Nona, Dalmatian city, XVI. 241.
Nonage, in law, XVI. 241,
Nonagesimal Degree, XVI. 241.
Nonagon, XVI. 241.
Non-conductors, electrical, VIII. 580.
Nonconformists, XVI. 241. See Dis¬
senters, Seceders.
Non-naturals, XVI. 241.
Non-obstante, XVI. 241.
Non-suit, in law, XVI. 241.
Nones, XVI. 241; VI. 4.
Nonius, XVI. 242.
 (Peter), or Pedro Nunez, XVI.
242; III. 738 ; X. 429.
Nonjurohs, XVI. 242.
Nonnosus, notice of his travels in Abys¬
sinia, II. 53.
Nonnus, Greek poet, XVI. 242.
Nonpareil type, XXI. 436.
Noogoo, island, XVI. 242.
Nooooonamo, island, XVI. 242.
Nooheva, island, XVI. 242.
Nooldroog, Hindu city, XVI. 242.
Noontal, in Hindustan, XVI. 242.
Noopore, Hindu town, XVI. 242.
Noorabad, Hindu town, XVI. 242.
Noornagur, town and district in Ben¬
gal, XVI. 242.
Noorpeelt, Hindu town, XVI. 242.
Noorri, Hindu village, XVI. 242.
Nooshirvan, king of Persia, XVII. 261.
Nootka, island, XVI. 242.
Sound, XVI. 242—dispute be¬
tween Britain and Spain about, V.
457—fur-trade of, X. 261.
Nord, in France, XVI. 242.
(Cotes du), a department of
France, XVI. 243.
Nordbottens, XVI. 243.
Norden (Frederick Louis), XVI. 243.
—    (Sir J.), on agriculture, II. 257.
 , town in Hanover, XVI. 243.
Nordhausen, Prussian city, XVI. 243.
Nordkoeping, XVI. 248 ; IV. 327.
Nordland, in Norway, XVI. 243.
Nordlingen, Bavarian city, XVI. 243.
Nore, mutiny at the, V. 481; VIII. 276.
—  river navigation, XVI. 23.
Nores (Jason de), XVI. 243.
Norfolk, English county, XVI. 244
—sheep of, II. 329—fisheries of, IX.
602. Walsham, &c., canal, XVI. 16.
 , in Virginia, XVI. 246.
 Island, XVI. 246 ; XXI. 712.
 Sound, XVI. 246.
Norham, in Durham, XVI. 246.
Noria, hydraulic machine, XVI. 247.
Noric Alps, II. 559; XII. 252.
Noricum, Roman province, XVI. 247.
Noris (Henry), XVI. 247.
Norland, Swedish province, XVI. 248.
Norlands, Highland cattle, II. 324.
Norman Characters, XVI. 248.
' Architecture, XIX. 441.
 Roof, XIX. 456.
Norman-Gothic architecture, III. 454.
Normandy, cotton-manufacture of, VII.
41?—invaded by Henry I., VIII. 715
Normans, XVI. 248. See Danes, Nor¬
wegians.
Norris (Sir John), XX. 227.
Norrkoping, XVI. 248 ; IV. 327.
NOR—NOS
Norse language, VII. 729 ; XVII. 415.
North, XVI. 248.
 (Dudley, Lord), senior, XVI.
248.
 — (Dudley, Lord), junior, son of
the preceding, XVI. 248—on political
economy, XVIII. 265.
 (Francis), Lord Guildford,
keeper of the great seal, XVI. 248.
  (Frederick), Lord Guildford,
XVI. 248—his administration, V. 398.
 Point Isles, XVI. 249.
 Point Islet, XVI. 249.
 Rocks, XVI. 249.
 Cape, XVI. 249 ; XIII. 112.
 Foreland, XVI. 249.
 Island, XVI. 249.
 Walsham and Dilham Canal, in
Norfolk, XVI. 16.
Northallerton, XVI. 249.
Northampton, English town, XVI. 249.
 -, town in Massachusetts, XVI.
250; XIV. 305.
Northamptonshire, XVI. 250—Lei¬
cestershire Union Canal, XVI. 15.
Northcote (James), painter, XVI. 251
—character of his works, 727.
Northern Lights. See Aurora Borealis.
Northfleet, in Kent, XVI. 253—pro¬
posed dockyard on, VIII. 79.
Northleacii, in Gloucester, XVI. 253.
Northmore (Mr), his plan of a univer¬
sal character, VI. 321.
Northumberland, an English county,
XVI. 253.
 (Duke of). See Dudley.
 Islands, XVI. 255.
 Straits, XVI. 255.
North-East Passage to the East In¬
dies, XVI. 255; XVIII. 215, et seq.
North-West Passage to the Pacific
Ocean, XVI. 255 ; XVIII. 215, et seq.
—voyages in search of the, X. 401.
North-West Territory, XVI. 255.
North-West Company, VI. 63 ; VII.
184 ; X. 261, 264—their hostility to
Lord Selkirk’s colony, VIII. 691—
their settlements in Oregon Terri¬
tory, XXL 452.
Northwich, in Cheshire, XVI. 256—
salt-mines of, VI. 510.
Norton, in Cheshire, XVI. 257.
Norton’s Sound, XVI. 257.
Norvel’s rope-machine, XIX. 469.
Norway, XVI. 257—Baltic coast of,
IV. 326—its disjunction from Den¬
mark, V. 536, 535—-union with Den¬
mark and Sweden, VII. 721—ceded
by Denmark to Sweden, 724—law of,
XII. 651—language, XIII. 85; VII.
729—variation of the needle, XIII.
733, 736—elevation of bed of the sea,
XV. 218—mines, XV. 251, et seq.—
mortality, 520—birds, XVI. 550—
heights of mountains, XVII. 505-
prisons, XVIII. 584—religion, XIX.
315—wars with Sweden, XXL 13, et
seq*—annexed to Sweden, 29—soil of,
ib.—computation of tonnage of ships,
329—weights and measures, XXI.
854—map of, XXL PI. 492.
 haddock, XII. 174.
Norwegians, their discovery of America,
II. 635; and Greenland, X. 755—in¬
vasions of France, X. 9, et seq.; of
the Hebrides, XI. 202 ; of England,
VIII. 708 ; of Scotland, XIX. 708—
naval enterprise, XX. 212—were the
first settlers of Iceland, XII. 142—
Norse language, VII. 729—no vestige
of that language in the Isle of Man,
&e., XVII. 415. See Danes, Nor¬
mans.
Norwich, XVI. 274—study of botany
at, V. 83—navigation to Lowestoff,
XVI. 16.
Norw ood (Richard), measurement of an
arc of the meridian by, I. 502—on
navigation, XV. 749.
Nose, XVI. 277 ; II. 797; XVII. 664-
bone of the, II. 777—cavities, 785—
muscles, 794 —in brutes, III. 21;
XVII. 703, et seq.—mucus of the, VI.
NOS—NUC
497—surgical restoration and dimi¬
nution of the, XX. 845—diseases of,
in the domestic animals, XXI. 629.
Noseman on birds, XVI. 549.
Nosography, XIV. 520.
Nosology, XVI. 277 ; XIV. 520.
Noss, island, XXI. 986.
Nostoch, XVI. 277.
Nostradamus (Michael), XVI. 278.
Nostrils, II. 797.
Notables (Assembly of), X. 41, et seq.
Not.e, XVI. 279.
Notarii, XVI. 279.
Notary, XVI. 279.
Notation, XVI. 279, 301; III. 542—
Arabic, an acquisition from the East,
I. 440—in algebra, II. 427—in arith¬
metic, III. 542—of decimal fractions,
559—mechanical, XIV. 444—trigo¬
nometrical, XXL 370.
Notching, in carpentry, V. 683.
Note, XVI. 279—in music, ib. See
Bank-note, Bill of Exchange.
Noth, vitrified fort on, IX. 756, 761.
Nothus, XVI. 279—insect, IX. 167.
Notidanus, fish, XII. 233.
Notion, XVE 280; XIV. 600. See
Idea.
Notiophila, insect, IX. 289.
Notitia, XVI. 280.
Noto, Sicilian city, XVI. 280 ; XV. 702.
 (Val di), in Sicily, XVI. 280.
Notocanthus, fish, XII. 186.
Notodonta, insect, IX. 248.
Notonecta, insect, IX. 200.
Notonectides, insects, IX. 200.
Notopoda, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Notopterus, fish, XII. 215.
Notoxus, insect, IX. 168.
Nottingham, English town, XVI. 280
—lace-manufacture, VII. 410; XIII.
6—canal, XVI. 17.
Nottinghamshire, XVI. 282.
Noue (La), on chivalry, VI. 615.
Nouns, X. 640, 683.
Novaia, Russian town, XVI. 283.
Novantse, VI. 1.
Novara, in Piedmont, XVI. 283.
Nova Scotia, XVI. 284—baronets of,
IV. 403—war between Britain and
France concerning, V. 383—weights
and measures of, XXI. 854.
Novatian, XVI. 289.
Novatians, XVI. 289 ; XII. 260.
Novation, in civil law, XVI. 289.
Novatus, XVI. 290.
Nova Zembla, XXI. 984.
Novel, in civil law, XVI. 291.
Novels, XVI. 290; XIX. 318, 334—ef¬
fects of novel-reading, IX. 541.
Novelty, XVI. 291.
November, gardening operations in, XI.
691.
Novemviri, XVI. 291.
Noverre on the ballet, VII. 615.
Novi, XVI. 291—battle of, X. 113.
Novice, XVI. 291.
Noviciate, XVI. 291.
Novogorod. See Nowogorod.
Nowadah, Hindu town, XVI. 291.
Nowagur, Hindu town, XVI. 291.
Nowed, in heraldry, XVI. 291.
Nowogorod, in Russia, XVI. 291, 292 ;
XIX. 532, et seq.
Nowogorod Sewersk, XVI. 292.
Nowosill, in Russia, XVI. 292.
Nowpoorah, Hindu town, XVI. 292.
Nox, in mythology, XVI. 292.
Nuayhas, or ague-tree, XVI. 292.
Nuba, XVI. 292.
Nubia, XVI. 292 ; IX. 380—temple of
Amada in, III. 415—mines of, VII.
159—history of, during the middle
ages, VIII. 557—Christianity in, ib.
—Belzoni’s and Burckhardt’s disco¬
veries in, 559—languages of, ib.
Nubian Desert, XVI. 298.
Nubians, II. 225, 230 ; IX. 376.
Nuck (A.), on the lacteals, II. 699.
Nuckergaut, Hindu town, XVI. 298.
Nucleus, XVI. 298.
— , in botany, V. 46, 47.
Nucta, XVI. 298.
NUC—NUX
Nucula, in botany, V. 49.
 , in conchology, XV. 343.
Nuculanium, in botany, V. 49.
Nucules nuculae, in botany, V. 47.
Nuddea, town in Bengal, XVI. 298.
Nuestra Senhora de Luz, XVI. 298.
Nuisance, XVI. 311; XIV. 495.
Nujengode, Hindu town, XVI. 299.
Nuldingah, Hindu town, XVI. 299.
Numa Pompilius, XVI. 299 ; XIX. 362.
Numantia, XVI. 299; XL 477, 478—
taken by the Romans, XIX. 388 ;
XX. 491—ruins of, 481.
Number, XVI. 299—philosophy of, XIV.
662—mystical properties of numbers,
HI. 535—Chinese notion of virtue in
odd numbers, VI. 562—in grammar,
X. 661, 683—in poetry and oratory,
XVI. 301.
Numbers (Book of), XVI. 301.
Numenius, bird, XVI. 622.
Numeral Letters, XVI. 301.
  Characters, XVI. 301 ; VI.
323—Roman, III. 533—Chinese, 533;
XVII. 391—Greek, 398 ; III. 535—
denary or Arabic, 539 ; I. 440 ; II.
7, 21 ; XIV. 315.
Numeration, or Notation, in arithme¬
tic, XVI. 301, 279 ; III. 542.
Numerianus, reign of, XIX. 413.
Numerical, XVI. 302.
Numida, bird, XVI. 608.
Numidia, XVI. 302—conquered by the
Romans, XIX. 391.
Numidians, their horsemanship, XI. 607
— slavery among the, XX. 383.
Numismatics, III. 259—Roman,. XII.
292 — numismatic inscriptions, 290.
See Coins, Medals.
Numismatographia, XVI. 309.
Nummulites, XV. 345.
Nun, XVI. 309—river, 223.
Nuns, XVI. 309—confession of, by ab
besses, II. 12.
Nuncio, papal ambassador, XVI. 310.
Nuncoreus, XI. 324.
Nuncupative, XVI. 310—Will, ib.
Nundabar, Hindu town, XVI. 310.
Nundaporam, Hindu town, XVI. 310.
Nundcomar, V. 450, 455.
Nundina, goddess, XVI. 310.
Nundinal Letters, XVI. 310.
Nundydroog, Hindu fortress, XVI 310
—capture of, V. 462.
Nunez (Pedro). See Nonius.
Nunia, in Irak Arabi, XVI. 310.
Nuptial Rites, XVI. 310. See Mar
riage.
Nuremberg, Bavarian city, XVI. 310
IV. 460—peace of, XIX. 91.
Nuroddin, VIII. 479.
Nurpoor, Hindu town, XVI. 310.
Nurrah, Hindu town, XVI. 310.
Nursery, in gardening, XVI. 310—eul
ture of trees in, XVII. 791.
Nursing of children, directions for
XVI. 310; XIV. 509.
Nusseen Khan, IV. 556.
Nusserabad, XVI. 311.
Nusseritabad, XVI. 311.
Nusserpoor, XVI. 311.
Nut, in botany, XVI. 311; V. 48, 49.
Nutation, XVI. 311 ; III. 767—dis¬
covery of, 745.
Nutbrook Canal, XVI. 17.
Nutcracker, bird, XVI. 585.
Nutgalls, VIII. 304 — tannin derived
from, VI. 481.
Nut-hatch, bird, XVI. 588.
Nuthuirs, Persian village, XVI. 311,
Nutmeg, XVI. 311—of New Holland,
IV. 210—of the Banda Islands, 340.
Nutmeg-tree, IV. 341; V. 66; XV. 655.
N utrition, XVI. 311—of animals, XVII.
581, 582, 618, 656—anatomy of or¬
gans of, II. 813—common to plants
and animals, III. 157—of animalcules,
182—of fishes, XII. 159—of plants,
XXI. 570. See Aliment, Food, Diet¬
etics, Digestion.
Nuttall (Thomas), on American birds,
XVI. 553, 602, 606, 630.
Nux Vomica, XVI. 312—alkali in, VL
112
INDEX
NUY—OBE
462—poisonous quality of, XIV. 506 ;
XVIII. 178—used for poisoning rats,
XXI. 600.
Xuyts (Peter), XVI. 312—his discove¬
ries in New Holland, IV. 205, 206,
208.
Nutts’ Reefs, XVI. 312.
Nuzzek, XVI. 312.
Nyctaginese, in botany, V. 125.
Nychthemekon, XVI. 312.
Nyctastbategj, XVI. 312.
Nyctelia, insect, IX. 163.
Nycteribia, insect, IX. 293.
Nycteris, in zoology, XIV. 101.
Nyctibius, bird, XVI. 579.
Nycticorax, bird, XVI. 619.
Nyctonoraus, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Nyiregyhaza, XVI. 312.
Nykoping, in Sweden, XVI. 312.
Nylacky, island, XVI. 313.
Nyl-gbau, in zoology, XIV. 162.
Nymph, XVI. 313.
Nymph®, in anatomy, II. 826.
Nymphjea, ancient structures, XVI. 313.
■ , in botany, V. 89, n.
Nymph®ace®, in botany, V. 96.
Nymphalis, insect, IX. 242.
Nymphon, genus of arachnides, III. 366.
Nysa, or Nyssa, XVI. 313.
Nysaea, IV. 160.
Nysse®, in botany, V. 128.
Nysson, insect, IX. 230.
Nyssones, insects, IX. 229.
Nysten on the aorta, II. 717.
0
O, letter, XVI. 314—interjection, ib.
Oak, XVI. 314; XVII. 780—British,
782—evergreen, 786 — Turkey, ib—
Turner’s, ib. — live, ib. — different
species of, 790 ; XXI. 291—soil best
adapted for, 292—size attainable by,
293—American, 295—structure of its
trunk. III. 84 ; of its bark, 85—bud
of the, 91—reverenced by the Druids,
VIII. 204.
Oak-timber, XX. 273—specific gravity
of, XII. 33—its use in joinery, 618—
for the navy, XVI. 49—strength of,
XX. 773, 297—British, XXI. 289, et
seq.—different qualities of, according
to soil on which grown, 293—time for
felling, 294—measurement of, 297,
298—weight of seasoned and unsea¬
soned, 306, 308.
Oak-bark, its use in dyeing black, VIII.
328, n. 3 ; in tanning, XXI. 77.
Oak-Leaf Galls, XVI. 315.
Oaka, Hindu town, XVI. 315.
Oakham, XVI. 332—canal, 17.
Oakhampton, in Devon, XVI. 315.
Oakingham, in Berks, XVI. 315.
Cannes, XVI. 315.
 , Chaldaic legislator, XV. 679.
Oak, XVI. 315—duck-foot, XX. 687-8.
Oaristus, in Greek poetry, XVI. 315.
Oasis, XVI. 315—oases of the- Sahara,
XIX. 612.
Oates (Titus), V. 348.
Oaths, XVI. 315—of allegiance, II. 520
—Arabian, III. 334—disregard of, in
trade, IV. 301—of calumny, VI. 29 —
coronation-oath, XII. 724. See Per¬
jury.
Oatmeal, absorbent property of, VII. 66.
Oats, culture and varieties of, II. 282—
germination of, III. 78—brewing from,
V. 231. See Corn-laws.
Oaxaca, Mexican city, XVI. 316—state,
XIV. 815.
Ob, XX. 155.
Ob a, Persian town, XVI. 317.
Obadiah, XVI. 317.
Oban, in Argyleshire, XVI. 317.
Obdorsk, in Russia, XVI. 317.
Obe. See Obi.
Obedience, duty of, XV. 477.
Obelisks, XVI. 317—Egyptian, II. 412 ;
XI. 304, 339.
Obergleichen, German city, XVI. 317.
OBE—OCT
Obernay, French town, XVI. 317.
Obernik, Prussian town, XVI. 318.
Oberzo, Italian city, XVI. 318.
Obi, river, XVI. 318 ; XIX. 586.
Obicini (Thomas), XI. 312.
Obidos, in Portugal, XVI. 318.
Obit, funeral solemnity, XVI. 318.
Object, XVI. 318.
Objective, XVI. 318.
Oblate, XVI. 318.
Oblati, monks, XVI. 318.
Obligation, XVI. 318—in jurispru¬
dence, XII. 635 — moral, XV. 459,
et seq. See Ethical Philosophy.
Oblique Angle, XVI. 818—Cases—As¬
cension—Circle—Descension—Line-
Planes—Sailing, ib.
Obliquus muscles, XVI. 318.
Oblong, XVI. 318.
Oboe, XV. 614.
Obojan, Russian city, XVI. 318.
Obolus, XVI. 318 ; XIV. 469.
Obreptitious, XVI. 318.
Obrium, insect, IX. 179.
Obscaia (Gulf of), XVI. 318.
Obscenity, its prevalence in the middle
ages, VI. 600.
Obscure, XVI. 318.
Obsecration, in rhetoric, XVI. 319.
Observation Island, XVI. 319.
Observatory, XVI. 319—establishment
of astronomical observatories, I. 500.
See Greenwich, &c.
 Island, XVI. 319.
Obsidian, in mineralogy, XV. 157—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 33.
Obsidionalis, XVI. 319.
Obstruction of bowels, VII. 562—in do¬
mestic animals, XXI. 626.
Oby, island, XVI. 319.
Ocana, Spanish town, XVI. 319.
Occident, XVI. 319.
Occipital, XVI. 319.
 ;— Bone, in man, II. 773—in the
mammalia, III. 5.
Occult, XVI. 319.
Occultation, XVI. 319—of planets
and stars by the moon, IV. 12—of
Jupiter’s satellites, 32.
Occupancy, in law, XVI. 319.
Ocean, XVI. 319 ; XVII. 500, 516-
southern colder than northern, II.
612—its influence on climate, III. 679;
XI. 196—its bed maybe occupied by
air, XIV. 720—its depth, XV. 177.
See Physical Geography, Tides.
Oceanides, sea-nymphs, XVI. 319.
Oceanus, in mythology, XVI. 319.
Ocellus the Lucanian, a Pythagorean
philosopher, XVI. 319—on spiritual
essences, III. 294.
Ocelot, in zoology, XIV. 122.
Ochil Hills, in Scotland, VI. 720.
Ochlocracy, XVI. 319.
Ochnace®, in botany, V. 105.
Ochrida, Greek town, XVI. 319.
Ochthera, insects, IX. 290.
Ochthiphila, insects, IX. 290.
Ochus, Persian king, XVI. 320.
Ockham (William of), doctrines held by,
I. 310-12—quoted on moral evil, 419.
Ockley (Simon), XVI. 320.
Ockzakoff, XVI. 320; IV. 660—dis¬
pute in 1791 about, V. 459.
O’Clery (Michael), VIII. 114.
O’Connell (Daniel), V. 562 ; XII. 388—
elected member for Clare, V. 574, 577
—his progress through Ireland, 577
—his anti-union agitation, 580.
Ocra, XVI. 320.
Ocrisia, in fable, XVI. 320.
Octaeteris, Greek cycle, XVI. 320.
Octagon, XVI. 320.
Octahedron, XVI. 320.
Octant, XVI. 320.
Octapla, XVI. 320.
Octateuch, XVI. 320.
Octave, in music, XVI. 320.
Octavia, XVI. 320.
Oct a vi an us or Octavius C®sar, after¬
wards Augustus. See Augustus.
October, XVI. 321—gardening opera¬
tions in, XI. 691.
OCT—OGG
October Equus, XVI. 321.
Octogonotes, insects, IX. 184.
Octohedrite, specific gravity of, XII. 33.
Octopus, molluscum, XV. 353.
Octostyle, XVI. 321 ; III. 468.
Ocydromia, insect, IX. 269.
Ocypete, genus of arachnides, III. 369.
Ocypter®, insects, IX. 278.
Ocypterus, bird, XVI. 568.
Ocythoe, molluscum, XV. 354.
Oczakow. See Oekzakoff.
Oddly Odd, XVI. 321.
Ode, in poetry, XVI. 321.
Odenatus, prince of Palmyra, XVI.
321,775.
Odensee, Danish city, XVI. 321.
Oder, German river, XVI. 321; X. 483;
XVIII. 690.
Odessa, Russian city, XVI. 321—port
and trade of, IV. 660,662—corn-trade
of, VII. 364.
Odeum, theatre in ancient Athens, XVI.
323 ; IV. 125.
Odier (Monsieur) on the coverings of
insects, IX. 63.
  (Dr L.), on mortality at Geneva,
XV. 535.
Odiham, in Hants, XVI. 323.
Odin, XVI. 323; XV. 683; XX. 798.
Odo, VHI. 704.
Odoacer,XVI.324;XII.464; XIX. 423.
Odocantha, insects, IX. 116.
Odometer, XVI. 324 ; II. 275, 354.
O’Donnel, Count del Abisbal, XX. 508-9.
Odontognathus, fish, XII. 215.
Odoriferous bodies, XVI. 324—effect
of electricity on, VIII. 636. See
Odours.
Odostomia, in conchology, XV. 347.
Odours, classification of, XVII. 664—
odour of flowers, XXI. 582.
Odynerus, insect, IX. 231.
GSacides, king of Epirus, IX. 312.
GSconomics, XVI. 324.
CEcophora, insect, IX. 253.
Oecumenical, XVI. 324.
GEdalia, insect, IX. 269.
QEdemera, insect, IX. 167.
CEdemerites, insects, IX. 166.
Oedenburg, in Hungary, XVI. 324.
QEdicnemus, bird, XVI. 617.
CEdionychis, insect, IX. 184.
GEdipus, Theban king, XVI. 324.
Oegwa, African town, XVI. 324.
Oehringen, in Wirtemberg, XVI. 324.
Oeland, XVI. 324 ; IV. 328.
Oels, in Prussia, XVI. 324.
GEnopt.*, censors, XVI. 325.
GErebro, in Sweden, XVI. 325.
Oerstedt (H.C.), VII. 731—on electro¬
magnetism, I. 624 ; VIII. 573, 637 ;
XXI. 683, 688—on the compressibility
of water, XII. 10; I. 607—on thermo¬
electricity, XXI. 695, 697.
 (Andreas), VII. 731.
GEsophagotomy, XXI. 623.
GEsophagus, in man, II. 814—in brutes,
III. 35—diseases of, in the domestic
animals, XXI. 622.
GEstracides, insects, IX. 279.
CEstrid®, in cattle, XXI. 627.
GEstrus, insect, IX. 279.
GEstrymnides, XI. 372.
GEta, Thessalian Mountain, XVI. 325.
Oettingen, Bavarian city, XVI. 325.
Oeyras, town in Brazil, XVII. 734—
climate of, V. 200.
Ofen, or Buda, V. 636.
Offenbach, German city, XVI. 325.
Offenburg (Ernest Von), on mathema¬
tics, XIV. 322.
Offerings, Hebrew, XVI. 325.
Official, XVI. 325.
Officinal, XVI. 325.
Offing, in sea-language, XVI. 325.
Offbr (Mr) his edition of Tyndale’s New
Testament, XXI. 434.
Ogane, IV. 571.
Ogee, in architecture, III. 468.
Ogeechee, river, X. 469.
Ogg (Mr), on the use of salt in prevent¬
ing dry-rot, VIII. 231.
Oghams, XVI. 325.
OGH—OLI
Ogive, in architecture, XVI. 325.
Ogyges, XVI. 325 ; IV. 142.
Ohang JA(VA, islands, XVI. 325.
Oheteeoa, island, XVI. 325.
OhevahoA, island, XVI. 325.
O’Higgins (Colonel), VI. 540, et seq.
Ohio, American state, XVI. 325—
canals in, 26; XXI. 472 —bank¬
ing, 477, n.—state-bonds, 479.
 , river, XVI. 28, 331; XXI. 456
—valley of the, 451, 453—-steamboats
on the, 469.
Ohittahoo, island, XVI. 331.
Ohrdruff, German city, XVI. 331.
Oia, Russian river, XVI. 331.
Oich (Loch), navigation of, XVI. 10.
Oickel, river, XXI. 10.
Oidemia, bird, XVI. 636.
Oil, XVI. 332—its use in manure, II.
303; in angling, III. 142, n. 1; in
desti'oying insects, XII. 294 ; in
lamps, XIII. 41 ; XX. 28; in greas¬
ing axles, XIV. 413, 417, 443; in
pi'eserving timber, 274; VIII. 232;
in scaring vermin from sheep and
dogs, XXI. 637—made in Brazil from
turtles’ eggs, V. 209—alimentary
qualities of, VIII. 20; XVII. 625—
surface of water calmed by, VIII. 61—
imports of, into the United Kingdom,
784—filtering of, IX. 582—specific
gravity of various kinds of, XII. 33
—mutual cohesion of particles of, 78
—French, X. 183—German, 485—
olive-oil, 727, 731; XII. 342, 489;
XV. 704—cajeput-oil, V. 782—sweet
oil of wine, VI. 439—volatile oils,
441—fixed oils, ib.—drying oils, 442
—fat oils, ib.—solid oils, ib.—bitu¬
minous oils, 443—pilchard-oil, VII,
368—castor-oil, XII. 499 — oils of
Para, XVII. 51—oleaginous secre¬
tions, 650.
Oil-gas, X. 359—compared with coal-
gas, 361, 365.
Oil-painting, XVI. 707,710.
Oil-thermometer, IV. 393; XXI. 237.
Oil-varnishes, XXI. 561.
Oise, XVI. 332—canal of the, 6.
Okeham, XVI. 332—canal, 17.
Okey-hole, XI. 8.
Okhotzk, in Russia, XVI. 332—moun¬
tains of, XX. 327.
Okirah, in Bengal, XVI. 332.
Olacine®, in botany, V. 101.
Olaf (St), XVI. 258.
Olango, island, XVI. 332.
Olave’s invasion of England, VIII. 706.
Olavide, XX. 331.
Olbers (Dr), astronomical discoveries of,
III. 748 ; IV. 30, 31—on the orbit*
of comets, VII. 139.
Olchanskaia, in Russia, XVI. 332.
Old age, XIV. 207, 493; XV. 457;
XVII. 695.
Old Maids, mollusca, XV. 373.
Old Wife, fish, XII. 195.
Oldcastle (Sir John), Lord Cobham,
XVI. 332; VIII. 733.
Oldenburg, in Germany, XVI. 338—
weights and measures of, XXL 854.
  (Henry), XVI. 333.
Oldham, in Lancashire, XVI. 333.
 (John), poet, XVI. 334.
Oldham’s lamp, XX. 23.
Oldland (George), his wool-shearing ma¬
chine, XXI. 934.
Oldmixon (John), party-writer and
critic, XVI. 334.
Oleaster, XVII. 789.
Olefiant gas, VI. 37 0.
Oleg, XIX. 527.
Oleic acid, VI. 430.
Oleine®, in botany, V. 119.
Olekma, river, XVI. 334.
Olekminsk, in Russia, XVI. 334.
Olenek, river, XVI. 334.
Olenus, ancient Greek poet, XVI. 334
—poems of, XVII. 404.
Oleron, XVI. 334.
Olga, XIX. 529.
Olibanum, VI. 492—specific gravity of*
XII. 33.
INDEX
113
OLI—ONE
Oligarchy, XVI. 334.
Oligotrophy, XVII. 128.
Olina on ornithology, XVI. 545.
Olinda, XVII. 237.
Olio, XVI. 334.
Olistus; fish, XII. 186.
Oliva, in conchology, XV. 346.
Olivarez (Don G. de G. Conde de),
XVI. 334$ XX. 503.
Olivary bodies of the brain, II. 810.
OHvenite, in mineralogy, XV. 145.
Olives of the Ionian Islands, XII. 342.
Olive-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 343.
Olive-oil, X. 727, 731 ; XII. 342, 489;
XV. 704.
Olive’s Island, XVI. 334.
Olivet, Mount, XVI. 334.
Olivetan (Robert), XVI. 334 — his
French Bible, IV. 617.
Olivia, treaty of, XXI. 21.
Olivier (Claude Matthieu), XVI. 334.
 on ants, III. 239.
Olivine, or Chrysolite, VI. 684 ; XV.
158—specific gravity of, XII. 28.
Ollerton, in Nottingham, XVI. 334.
Olmutz, Moravian city, XVI. 335—be¬
sieged by Frederick III., XVIII. 675.
Olney, in Bucks, XVI. 335.
Olonez, in Russia, XVI. 335.
Olonois (L.), a bucaneer, V. 623.
Olot, Spanish town, XVI. 335.
Olpar, Hindu town, XVI. 335.
Olutora, river, XVI. 335.
Olympeium, in Athens, IV. 118.
Olympia, in Greece, XVI. 335.
Olympiad, XVI. 336; VI. 653.
Olympic games, in ancient Greece,
XVI. 336 ; VI. 653—their influence
on Greek art, XVI. 697.
  Year, VI. 653.
Olympus, X. 722.
Olynthians, their submission to the
Macedonians, XIII. 621.
Om, river of Tobolsk, XVI. 336.
Oma, island, XVI. 336.
Omagh, XXI. 441.
Omai, VII. 300, 301.
Omalisus, insect, IX. 141.
Omalium, insect, IX. 138.
Omar Ebn Al Khattab, X.VI. 336 ;
III. 342—his conquest of Egypt, VIII.
477—mosque of, at Jerusalem, XII.
548—capture of Jerusalem by, XVI.
755.
Ombay, island, XVI. 337.
Ombos, ruins of, VIII. 533.
Ombre, game, XVI. 337.
Ombrometer, XVI. 337 ; XIV. 742;
XVII. 535.
Ombu, V. 640.
Omeerseer, Hindu village, XVI. 337.
Omelet, XVI. 337.
Omen, XVI. 337.
Omer, Jewish measure, VII. 381.
 (St), in France, XVI. 338.
Omercdntuc, XVI. 338.
OmErpoor, Hindu town, XVI. 338.
Ometis, insect, IX. 157.
Omichund, V. 397.
Ommiades, dynasty of the, III. 343.
Ommon, in Arabia, XVI. 338.
Omnipotence of God, XIV. 696, 699.
Omoa, XVI. 339 ; XI. 19.
Omophagia, festival, XVI. 339.
Omophron, insect, IX. 132.
Omphale, XVI. 339.
Omphalodes, lichen, VIII. 309.
Omrattee, Hindu town, XVI. 339.
Omree, Hindu town, XVI. 339.
Omsk, Russian town, XVI. 339.
Omddwara, in Hindustan, XVI. 339.
On, city, XVI. 339—deity, VIII. 552.
Onagrariae, in botany, V. 110.
Onateya, island, XVI. 340.
Onchidium, molluscum, XV. 357.
Oneehow, island, XVI. 340.
Onega, Russian city, XVI. 340.
, Russian river and lake, XVI.
340; XIX. 56J5.
Oneglia, in Sardinia, XVI. 340.
O’Neill (Sir Phelirn), his rebellions in
Ireland, V. 319 ; XII. 363-5, 368.
Oneirocritica, XVI. 340.
ONE—OPI
Oneirocritics, XVI. 340.
Onevy, island, XVI. 340.
Ongole, in Hindustan, XVI. 340.
Ongologdr, Hindu town, XVI. 340.
Onion, worshipped in Egypt, III. 262—
bulb of, 90—culture of, XI. 671.
Oniscides, Crustacea, VII. 503.
Oniticellus, insect, IX. 153.
Onitis, insect, IX. 154.
Onkelos, Jewish rabbi, XVI. 340—Tar-
gum of, XXI. 80.
Onomancia, XVI. 341.
Onomatopoeia, XVI. 341.
Onon, Russian river, XVI. 341.
Onondaga, American town, XVI. 341.
Onore, Hindu seaport, XVI. 341.
Onosandeu, philosopher, XVI. 341.
Onrost, island, XVI. 341.
Ontarer, Hindu town, XVI. 341.
Ontario, lake, XVI. 341; VI. 58, 64;
XVII. 522 ; XXI. 455.
Onthophagus, insect, IX. 153.
Ontiniente, Spanish town, XVI. 342.
Ontology, XIV. 599.
Ontong Java, islands, XVI. 342.
Onycomancy, XVI. 342.
Onyx, XVI. 342 ; V. 787.
Oochaseer, Hindu town, XVI. 342.
Oochinadroog, Hindu fort, XVI. 342.
Oodeadargam, Indian town, XVI. 342.
Oojain, in Hindustan, XVI. 342.
Oolite, boring of, V. 5.
Oolitic system, in geology, XV. 202.
Oom-erbegh, river, XV. 503.
Oon, Hindu town, XVI. 343.
Oonae, Hindu village, XVI. 343.
Oonarang, in Java, XVI. 343.
Ooniara, Hindu town, XVI. 343.
Oonomafod, island, XVI. 343.
Ooreeoha, Hindu town, XVI. 343.
Oorey, Hindu town, XVI. 343.
Oorians, XI. 397.
Oosbecks. See Usbecks.
Ooscat, in Asia Minor, XVI. 343.
Ooscotta, Indian fortress, XVI. 343.
Oossoor, Hindu fortress, XVI. 344.
Oosterhout, XVI. 344.
OOTAPALLIUM, XVI. 344.
Ootatatoor, XVI. 344.
Ootradoorg, XVI. 344 ; XI. 429.
OOTRIMALOOR, XVI. 344.
Opacity, XIII. 331; XVI. 378.
Opal, XV. 157—sp. gr. of, XII. 33, 34.
Opalescence, XV. 128, 181.
Opalia, Roman feasts, XVI. 344.
Oparo, island, XVI. 344.
Opatrum, insect, IX. 164.
Opdam (Admiral), V. 343.
Opera, XVI. 344—French, II. 74 —
Italian, VIII. 157—English, 176.
Opera-house, London, XIII. 533.
Operations, surgical, XX. 831.
Operculum, in botany, V. 55.
Opetiorhynchus, bird, XVI. 589.
Ophelia, worm, XI. 221.
Ophelias, his alliance with Agathocles,
VI. 188.
Ophicephalus, fish, XII. 190.
Ophidleide, XV. 615.
Ophidia, reptiles, XIX. 150; XX. 121
—structure of, XVII. 714.
Ophidium, fish, XII. 226.
Ophiology, XVI. 344.
Ophiomancy, XVI. 344.
Ophion, insect, IX. 225.
Ophiostoma, zoophyte, XXI. 997.
Ophir, XVI. 344 ; X. 388.
Ophisaurus, serpent, XX. 122.
Ophisurus, fish, XII. 224.
Ophite, in mineralogy, XV. 148.
Ophites, heretics, XVI. 344.
Ophiuridse, zoophytes, XXI. 1012.
Ophryessa, reptile, XIX. 145.
Ophthalmia, common in Egypt, VIII.
516—treatment of the disease in the
domestic animals, XXI. 635.
Ophthalmoscopy, XVI. 344.
Opian, VI. 461.
Opiates, XVI. 344.
Opie’s pictures, III. 653 ; XVI. 727.
Opinion, XVI. 344 — the Economists
on, VIII. 401-2.
Opisthocomus, bird, XVI. 606.
OPI—ORB
Opisthodomus, III. 468.
Opistognathus, fish, XII. 193.
Opitius, Hebrew Bible of, IV. 614.
Opitz, German poet, XIX. 681—works
of, XVIII. 167.
Opium, XVI. 345—an aliment in the
East, III. 166—chemical composition
of, VI. 460—of Hindustan, XI. 380—
specific gravity of, XII. 34—poisonous
quality of, XIV. 504; XVIII. 177—
importation of, into Siam, XX. 322.
Opobalsamum, IV. 322.
Opocalpasum, XVI. 345.
Opomyza, insect, IX. 290.
Opoponax, VI. 491; XII. 34.
Oporto, Portuguese city, XVI. 345—
wine-making at, XXI. 902.
Opossum, XIV. 126; IV. 209 ; XXI.
716—its structure, XVII. 705.
Oposura, in Mexico, XIV. 818.
Opoun, island, XVI. 347.
Oppedulun, XVI. 790.
Oppeln, in Prussia, XVI. 346.
Oppian, Greek poet, XVI. 346 — on
hunting, XI. 739—his Natural His¬
tory, XIV. 75.
Oppido, Italian city, XVI. 347.
Oppilation, XVI. 347.
Optative Mood, XVI. 347.
Optic angle and axis of eye, XVI. 347.
Optical Instruments, XVI. 513—im¬
provements in, III. 748. See Burning-
glasses, Camera, Lens, Micrometer,
Sea-Lights, Telescope, &e.
Optics, XVI. 348—history of, ib. ; I.
504-515, 545-6, 630-638 — contribu¬
tions of Euclid, 504 ; Ptolemy, ib.;
Alhazen, 505-6 ; Aristotle and Epicu¬
rus, 506 ; Roger Bacon, 507 ; Mauro-
lycus, 508 ; Baptista Porta, ib.; Kep¬
ler, 509-10; Snellius, 511, 631 ; Des¬
cartes and Fermat, 512-13 ; James
Gregory, 513; Dr Barrow, 514 ; Huy¬
gens, ib. ; Newton, 545 ; Descartes
Bradley, Euler, &c., 631-4 ; Dr Blair,
635 ; Fraunhofer, 636 ; Herschel, ib.,
Malus, 638 (See all those heads)—;
principles of the science applied by
the French to the improvement of
lighthouses, 636—first notions of pho¬
tometry given by Marie, 637—succes¬
sive propagation of light, IV. 36—no
action beyond the limit of the spec¬
trum, VI. 757—corona or halo, VII.
371—Dollond’s discoveries in, VIII.
94; I. 634—optical phenomena of the
air, XIV. 749—why optics is apart of
mechanical philosophy, XVII. 669.
See Aberration, Chromatics, Colour,
Light, Perspective, Photometer, Po¬
larisation of Light, Refraction, Reflec¬
tion, Spectrum, Telescope.
Optigraph, VI. 38.
Optimates, XVI. 514.
Optimism, XIV. 701—Leibnitz’s scheme
of, I. 126.
Optio, Roman officer, XVI. 514.
Or, in heraldry, XVI. 514 ; XI. 244.
Ora, ancient money, XVI. 514.
Oracles, XVI. 514 ; VII. 584—Sibyl¬
line, II. 243—Fontenelle on, IX. 720
—oracle at Delphi, VII. 689.
Or® a, sacrifices, XVI. 517.
Oral, XVI. 517.
Oran, in Algiers, XVI. 517.
Orange, in France, XVI. 518.
 River, XVI. 518.
 (Sea), plant, XVI. 518.
Orange-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 336, 342.
Orange-tree, culture of, XI. 659—fruit
of, V. 49—alkali in fruit, VI. 469—
sp. gr. of its wood, XII. 34.
Orang-outang, XIV. 90, 194—its skull,
III. 4—its structure, XVII. 703—of
Angola, III. 152.
Oration, XVI. 518—Funeral, X. 259.
Orator, XVI. 518—orators among the
Druids, VIII. 209.
Oratorio, in music, XVI. 518.
Oratory, XVI. 518—imitation in, XII.
254 See Rhetoric.
Orbe, Swiss city, XVI. 518.
Orbelus, mountain, X. 722.
ORB—OBG
Orbicula, mollusca, XV. 349.
Orbiculata, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Orbits of the skull, in man, II. 785—in
the mammalia, III. 6.
 of comets, planets, and satellites.
See Comets, Planets, Earth, Jupiter,
Mars, Moon, Satellites, &c.
Orbulites, mollusca, XV. 345.
Orcagna (A. & B.), painters, XVI. 709.
Orchan, XXI. 411.
Orchard, XVI. 518 ; XI. 684.
Orchesia, insect, IX. 166.
Orchestes, insect, IX. 174.
Orchestra, XVI. 519; XV. 645.
Orchestrino, XVI. 519.
Orchestrion, XVI. 519.
Orchia Lex, XVI. 519.
Orchideae, in botany, V. 132.
Orchilla Islands, XVI. 519.
Orchomenos, Greek city, razed by the
Thebans, XXI. 197.
Orchon, river, XVI. 519.
Orcus, infernal god, XVI. 519.
Ordeal, XVI. 519—trial by, XII. 650
—in Siam, XX. 322.
Order, in architecture, XVI. 522 ; III.
468—orders described, III. 415, 416,
425, 437—Greek, 437—Roman, 443
—'-Modern Italian, 451.
—' , in botany, V. 59, 61, 62—cha¬
racters of orders, 94.
  in natural history, XVI. 522 ;
XV. 739.
 , in phrenology, XVII. 464.
 , in rhetoric, XVI. 522.
 , or rank, XVI. 522.
Orders, Holy, XVI. 522—Military, ib.
—-Religious, ib.—Religious Military,
id. See Knights.
Ordinal Numbers, XVI. 522.
Ordinance, XVI. 522. See Ordonnance.
Ordinaries, in heraldry, XI. 247.
Ordinary, XVI. 522.
  In sea-language, XVI. 522—
ships in, VIII. 86.
    of Assizes, &e., XVI. 523.
 of Newgate, XVI. 523.
Ordinates, XVI. 523.
Ordination, XVI. 523.
Ordnance, XVI. 523. See Cannon,
Gun, Mortar.
Ordnance-department of the British
army, XVI. 523; III. 619, 632.
Ordnance-Survey of Great Britain,
XXL 354.
Ordonez, VI. 542.
Ordonnance, or ordinance, in architec¬
ture, XVI. 523 ; III. 468.
 , in painting, XVI. 523.
Ore, in mineralogy, XVI. 523 ; XV.
160. See Copper-ore, &c.
Oreas, African animals, II. 228.
Oreeiioua, island, XVI. 523.
Oregon Territory,in North America,
XVI. 523 ; XXL 452.
Orel, in Russia, XVI. 527.
Orellana (Francisco), XVI. 527.
 , river, II. 587.
Orenburg, in Russia, XVI. 527.
Orense, Spanish city, XVI. 527.
Orestes, XVI. 527 ; XIX. 423.
Orfa, in Turkey, XVI. 528.
Orffyreus’s Wheel, XVI. 529.
Orfila on poisons, XIV. 492.
Orford, town in Suffolk, XVI. 529.
Orgal, XVI. 529.
Organ, XVI. 529.
 —,musical instrument,ib.;XV. 64 4
—a novel one suggested, II. 120.
  in anatomy, II. 711,^ XIV. 514.
Organic beings, XVII. 130. See Life,
Animals, Vegetables.
 Bodies, characteristics of, II. 684;
  Chemistry, VI. 459.
 Remains, IX.789—animals, XV.
56, 183, et.seq., 376 ; XVII. 508, 587 ;
II. 653 ; V. 641 ; VII. 500; XX. 326
—trees, XV. 205, 256, n„ 572 ; XXL
916 ; XII. 148—plants, XVII. 508.
Organist, XVI. 533.
Organization, XVII. 595.
Organo-Lyricon, XVI. 533.
Organzine silk, XX. 345.
114
INDEX
ORG—ORS
Ougia, XVI. 534.
Obgubs, XVI. 534.
Oegta, Greek measure, XVI. 534.
 , insect, IX. 248.
Oribasus, ancient physician, XVI. 534 ;
II. 691; XX. 824.
Oribata, genus of arachnides, III. 368.
Orichalcum, XVI. 534.
Orient (I/), in France, XVI. 535.
Oriental, crystallization of, VII. 523.
 Languages, XVII. 354, et seq.
Origen, XVI. 535—friendship between
him and Ambrose, II. 600—on ap¬
paritions, III. 297—his Hexapla, XI.
289 ^ XVII. 366.
Obigenians, heretics, XVI. 536.
Origenists, sect, XVI. 536.
Original, XVI. 536—sin, XXI. 218.
Orillon, in fortification, XVI. 536.
Orinoco, river, XVI. 536—valley of,
III. 116—navigation of, XVI. 28—
discolours the sea, XVII. 525—inun¬
dations of, ib.
Oriole, golden, XVI. 574—red-shoul¬
dered, 582—Baltimore, 583.
Orion, XVI. 537.
Orissa, Hindu province, XVI. 538.
Oristano, Sardinian city, XVI. 538.
Orizaba, Mexican volcano, XIV. 797.
ORizAVA.in Mexico, XVI. 538; XIV. 815.
Orkney Islands, XVI. 538—cattle of,
II. 324—barrows in, IV. 409—duns
in, VIII. 268.
Orle, in architecture, XVI. 541—in
heraldry, XI. 251.
Orleans, in France, XVI. 541—canal
of, XVI. 6—centre employed in build¬
ing the bridge of, VI. 286 ; XX. 759
—university of, XXI. 487.
 (Duke of), his aerial voyage, II.
188.
 (Maid of), or Joan of Arc, XII.
587 ; III. 377; X. 23.
 (Peter Joseph), XVI. 542.
Orlop, ship deck, XVI. 542.
Orme (Robert), historian, XVI. 542—
on India, XI. 406.
Ormea, Sardinian city, XVI. 543.
Ormond, in Ireland, XVI. 543.
Ormskibk, XVI. 543.
Ormdz, island, XVI. 543.
Orne, in France, XVI. 544.
Orneodes, insects, IX. 253.
Ornismya, bird, XVI. 589.
Ornithije, winds, XVI. 544.
Ornithobia, insect, IX. 293.
Ornithology, XVI. 545—bones of
birds. III. 1, 10—their muscles, 19—
mechanism of perching, ib.—organs
of smell, 21—eyes, 22, 24—ears, 26
—tongue, 27—vocal organs, 29 —
nervous system, 30, 31—stomach, 36
—intestines, 37—organs of circula¬
tion, 39—lungs, ib.—pairing, 168;
XVI. 733-physiology, XVII. 710—
respiration, XVIII. 124 — singing,
XX. 368—Asiatic birds, III. 683—Ed¬
wards’s works on, VIII. 451. See
Birds, Fowling, Eagle, Hawk, &c.,and
the geographical articles generally.
Ornithomancy, XVI. 651.
Ornithomyia, insect, IX. 293.
Ornithorhynchus, in zoology, XIV. 145;
IV. 209—its structure, XVII. 706.
Orobanchcae, in botany, V. 123.
Orobio (Don Balthasar), XVI. 651.
Orobitis, insect, IX. 174.
Orodes, XVII. 101.
Orontes, river, XVI. 651; XXI. 61.
Oropesa, Bolivian town, XVI. 651.
Orophernes, VI. 125.
Orotava, in Teneriffe, XVI. 651.
Orphan Hospital, Edinburgh, VIII. 425.
Orpheoreon, XVI. 652.
Orpheus, XVI. 652; XV. 664—poems
of, XVII. 404—philosophy of, 431.
Orpiment, XVI. 652; VI. 384, 458—
sp. gr. of, XII. 34—red, XV. 171.
Orrery, XVI. 652—is a mere play¬
thing, IV. 101—electrical, VIII. 591.
 (Earls of), V. 162, 167, 168.
Orskaia, Russian town, XVI. 652.
Orsodacna, insect, IX. 181.
OUT—OSS
Ortalis, insect, IX. 285.
Ortegal Cape, in Spain, XVI. 652.
Ortelius (Abraham), XVI. 652.
Orthagoriscus, fish, XII. 228.
Orthez, XVI. 652—battle of, V. 535.
Orthocera, mollusca, XV. 345.
Orthocerus, insect, IX. 164.
Orthochoetes, insects, IX. 174.
Orthochile, insect, IX. 278.
Orthodox, XVI. 652.
Orthographic Projection of the Sphere,
XVI. 652.
Orthography, in grammar and geo¬
metry, XVI. 652—in perspective, 653
—in architecture, ib.; III. 468.
Orthonyx, bird, XVI. 573.
Orthopniea, XVI. 653.
Orthoptera, insects, IX. 59, 187.
Orthosa, or Ortosa, XVI. 653.
Orthostyle, in architecture, III. 468.
Ortilda, bird, XVI. 605.
Ortive, XVI. 653.
Ortiz de Betz (Ynigo), exploratory
voyage of, IV. 211.
Ortolan, bird, XVI. 580.
Orton, in Westmoreland, XVI. 653.
Ortone a Mare, XVI. 653.
Ortygis, bird, XVI. 612.
Ortyx, bird, XVI. 611.
Oruro, XVI. 653—silver-mines of, IV.
749 —climate, 750—population, 752.
Orvieto, Italian city, XVI. 653.
Orville (M. d’), on Mount /Etna, II. 200.
Orycteropus, in zoology, XIV. 143 —
teeth of, III. 32.
Oryctes, insect, IX. 156.
Orygma, insect, IX. 288.
Ory&sus, insect, IX. 218.
Oryx, in zoology, XIV. 162.
Osacca, city in Japan, XVI. 653.
Osage, XVI. 653.
Osaka, Syrian village, XVI. 653.
Osbaldeston (George), XI. 611.
Oscan alphabet, II. Plate 19.
Oscha, river, XVI. 653.
Oschophoria, festival, XVI. 653.
Osci, XIX. 360, 376.
Oscillation of fluids, XII. 81—of pendu¬
lum, XIV. 384 ; XVII. 185. See
Pendulum.
  (centre of), XIX. 497—James
Bernoulli’s mode of treating the pro¬
blem respecting, I. 603.
Oseney Island, in England, XVI. 654.
Osenoka, river, XVI. 654.
Osiander’s Latin Bible, IV. 615.
Osiers, used in basket-making, IV. 428
—cultivation of, 429. See Willow.
Osilo, Sardinian city, XVI. 654.
Osimo, Italian city, XVI. 654.
Osiris, XVI. 654; III. 580; VII. 691;
VIII. 552 ; XI. 320 ; XV. 659 ; XVII.
379—mysteries of, XV. 663—exploits
of, ib.
Oskol-Staroi, Russian city, XVI. 655.
Osier’s anemometer, XIX. 45.
Osman, founder of the Turkish empire,
XXI. 411; VII. 288.
   Bey Bardissi, VIII. 496.
Osmanjic, Turkish town, XVI. 655.
Osmanlee Turks, XXI. 419.
Osmanskoi, Russian town, XVI. 655
Osmazome. See Ozmazome.
Osmerus, fish, XII. 210.
Osmia, insect, IX. 234.
Osmium, VI. 425—salts of oxide of, VI.
453—specific gravity of, XII. 34—dis¬
covery of, XXI. 180.
Osmont (J. B. L.), notice of his Typo¬
graphical Dictionary, IV. 630.
Osnabruck, in Hanover, XVI. 655.
Osorio, VI. 541, et seq.
Osorics (Jerome), historian, XVI. 655.
Osphronemus, fish, XII. 190.
Osprey, bird, XVI. 563.
Ossa, Greek mountain, XVI. 655.
 , town in Gilolo, XVI. 655.
Ossat (Arnaud d’), cardinal, XVI. 656.
Osseous fishes, XII. 166.
Ossero, XVI. 657.
Ossian, XVI. 657 ; XI. 544—Dr Blair’s
Dissertation on, IV. 669—Sir James
Mackintosh on, IV. 669, n.—Cesa-
OSS—OUE
rotti’s Italian version of, VI. 297—
Malcolm Laing’s dissertation on, XIII.
22—Adelung’s opinion of, 87.
Ossification, XVI. 666 ; II. 744 ;
XVII. 656—of the human skull, II.
783. See Bones.
Ostade (Adrian Van), XVI. 666, 722.
Ostend, Belgian city, XVI. 666—sieges
of, in 1601 and 1604, 116; XI. 520.
Osteocarpium in botany, V. 49.
Osteocolla, XVl. 667.
Osteeglossum, fish, XII. 216.
Osteology, XVI. 667—human, II. 759
—of the lower animals. III. 1; XXI.
615. See Bones.
Osterode, in Hanover, XVI. 667.
Ostervald (John Frederick), Protest¬
ant divine, XVI. 667.
Osterwick, Prussian city, XVI. 667.
Ostia, Italian city, XVI. 667.
Ostiaks, XVI. 607 ; XX. 327.
Ostracion, fish, XII. 229.
Ostracism, in ancient Athens, XVI.
668 ; IV. 150 ; XX. 446.
Ostracites, XVI. 669; XV. 34.
Ostrea, ihollusca, XV. 343, 372.
Ostreada!, mollusca, XV. 367.
Ostrich, XVI. 616—of America, VI.
526 ; Arabia, III. 329, 340 ; Buenos
Ayres, V. 641—incubation of, XII.
300—structure of, VII. 712—re¬
spiration of, XVIII. 124.
Oswestry, in Salop, XVI. 669.
Osymandes, Egyptian king, XVI. 669.
Osymandias, circle of, I. 500.
Otabalo, in Colombia, XVI. 669.
Otaha, island, XVI. 669.
Otaheitb, XVI. 669; XVIII. 325-
society of Arreoys in, III. 628—
bread-fruit of, V. 211—Captain Cook’s
visits to, VII. 296, 301—tradition of
the Deluge in, 699.
Otakootai, island, XVI. 669.
Otaria, in zoology, XIV. 124.
Otavalo, XVIII. 798.
Otchakoff, Charles XII. at, XXI. 23.
Otho (M. Salvius), Roman emperor,
XVI. 669; XIX. 404.
 , king of Greece, X. 751.
 the Great, XII. 468.
Othman. See Osman.
Othoman. See Osman.
Otilopha, reptile, XIX. 158.
Otiocerus, insect, IX. 203.
Otis, bird, XVI. 617.
Otley, in Yorkshire, XVI. 670.
Otodini, or Ottadini, XVI. 670; VI. 1.
Otolithus, fish, XII. 176.
Otrahermana (La), island, XVI. 670.
Otranto, XVI. 670 ; XV. 700.
Ottajano, Italian city, XVI. 67C.
Ottawa Indians, XV. 8.
 , river, VI. 57, 58, 64.
Otter, XIV. Ill—skins of, X. 266.
Otter-hunfing, XI. 749.
Otterburn, XVI. 670.
Ottery (St Mary), in Devon, XVI. 670.
Otti.cotta, Hindu town, XVI. 670.
Otto, his obligations to Cunningham,
VII. 546.
Ottoboni( Cardinal), VII. 325.
Ottocar, IV. 219.
Ottoman army. III. 612. See Turkey.
Ottomaques, clay eaten by the, II. 632.
Otumba, in Mexico, XIV. 814—battle
of, 774.
Otungurra, Hindu town, XVI. 670.
Otus, bird, XVI. 566.
Otway (Thomas), tragic poet, XVI. 670
—dramatic W'orks of, VIII. 171.
 (Cape), XVI. 672.
Otweiler, Prussian city, XVI. 672.
Ouch, Hindu town, XVI. 672.
Oudanulla, in Bengal, XVI. 672.
Oude, XVI. 672, 674 ; XI. 431, et seq..
Oudenarde, town in Flanders, XVI.
674—battle of, V. 372.
Oudeypoor, in India, XVI. 674.
Ocdghir, Hindu village, XVI. 676.
Oudney (Dr), VI. 723.
Oueining, Chinese city, XVI. 676.
Oue-Kiun, Chinese city, XVI. 676.
Quen-Toheou, Chinese city, XVI. 676.
OUF—OXA
Oufa, city and river, XVI. 676.
Ougarnee, river, VI. 725
Oughter (Lough), VI. 255.
Ouchtred (William), mathematician,
XVI. 676—on algebra, II. 424—on
navigation, XV. 748.
Ouisconsin, river, XVI. 255.
Ouistitis, in zoology, XIV. 96.
Oukesima, island, XVI. 676.
Duller, Hindu lake, XVI. 676.
Ounce, weight, XVI. 676.
Ouncha, V. 705.
Ound, Hindu village, XVI. 676.
Oundle, in Northampton, XVI. 676.
Oural Mountains, XVI. 677. See
Ural Mountains.
 , Russian river, XVI. 677.
Ouralsk, Russian city, XVI. 677.
Ourax, bird, XVI. 605.
Ourcas, a Hindu race, XVI. 538.
Ourcha, Hindu town, XVI. 676.
Ourcq, canal of, XVI. 6.
Ourfa, or Orfa, XVI. 528.
Ourique, battle of, XVIII. 463.
Oukoomia, Persian town, XVI. 677.
 (Lake), XVI. 677.
Ourry’s Island, XVI. 677.
Ouse (Greater), river, XVI. 678; V.
634; VI. 33; XI. 757 —its naviga¬
tion, XVI. 17.
 (Smaller),river, XVI. 678,245
  , river in Yorkshire, XXI. 962.
Oussoor, Hindu town, XVI. 678.
Outchang-Fou, XVI. 678.
Ou-Tcheu, XVI. 678.
Outing, Chinese city, XVI. 678.
Outlaw, XVI. 678.
Outlawry, XVI. 678.
Outworks, in fortification, IX. 775.
Ouvarofskoi, in Russia, XVI. 678.
Ouzel, bird, XVI. 574.
Oval, or Ellipse, XVI. 678; VII. 227.
Ovalo, XVI. 681; III. 442, 450, 468.
Ovarium of flowers, III. 95, 98, 99; V
45.
Ovary, II. 825; XVII. 685, 686—dis¬
ease of the, 478.
Ovation, XVI. 678 ; XXI. 388.
Oven, baker’s, XVI. 678 ; IV. 296.
Overall (John), bishop, XVI. 678.
Overbury (Sir Thomas), XVI. 679.
Overhauling, XVI. 679.
Overrake, sea-term, XVI. 679.
Overshot water-wheel, XII. 82 ; XXL
799.
Overt, XVI. 679.
Overton, XVI. 679.
Overture, in music, XVI. 679.
Overyssel, XVI. 679.
Ovidius (P.) Naso, XVI. 679—Bur-
man’s edition of, V. 719—poetry of,
XVIII. 154.
Oviedo, Spanish city, XVI. 680; IV. 112.
 (John Gonsales), XVI. 680.
Ovilia, or Septa, XVI. 681.
Oviparous animals, XVI. 681; II. 706,
707 ; XVII. 686.
Ovis, in zoology, XIV. 164.
Ovolo, XVI. 681; III. 442, 450, 468
Ovula, in conchology, XV. 346.
Ovulad®, moliusca, XV. 364.
Ovulum, in botany, V. 46, 51, n.; HI.
98, ?9.
Ovum, XVII. 686, 712. See Egg.
Owen (Dr John^,,XVI. 681.
  (Robert/ -lis establishment at
Harmony, XII. 2 66—his infant-schools
at New Lanark, XIII. 49.
Owhyhee, island, XVI. 682 ; XVIII.
319—discovered by Cook, VII. 301
his death there, 302.
Owl, XVI. 566.
Owlah, Hindu city, XVI. 682.
Owling, XVI. 682.
Owram (North and South), XVI. 682.
Ox, XIV. 167; XVII. 709—employment
of oxen in agriculture, H. 321.
Ox-bot, XXI. 627.
Oxsea, insect, IX. 234.
Oxalate of lime, its pyro-electricity
VIII. 598.
Oxalic acid, VI. 369—a poison, XIV-
503—antidotes to, XVIII. 181.
INDEX
115
OXA—OZO
Oxalic ether, VI. 440.
Oxalidese, in botany, V. 104.
Oxalis roots, culture of, XI. 670.
Oxenstiern, XXL 16.
Oxford, XVI. 682 — botanical school
of, V. 83—libraries at, XIII. 298—
early printing at, XVIII. 554—uni¬
versity of, VIII. 189 ; XXI. 492, 482,
506—colleges and halls, 499—canal,
XVI. 17—roof of the theatre, XIX.
45l—the Oxford Marbles, III. 659.
Oxfordshire, XVI. 686.
Oxgano, XVI. 687.
Oxidation, XVI. 688—of metals by
electricity, VIII. 627.
Oxides, XVI. 688—of aluminum, VI. 398
—antimony, 385—arsenic, 383—azote,
365—barium, 395 — bismuth, 416-
borax, 373—bromine, 361—cadmium,
411—calcium, 396—carbon, 369—ce¬
rium, 400—chromium, 386—cobalt,
409—columbium, 391—copper, 414-
fluorine, 362, 364—glucinum, 399—
—gold, 420—iodine, 361—iridium,
424—iron, 403—lead, 411—magnesi¬
um, 397—manganese, 406—mercury,
417—molybdenum, 389—nickel; 408
—osmium, 425—palladium, 422—phos¬
phorus, 379—platinum, 421—potas¬
sium, 393—rhodium, 423—selenium,
377—silicon, 373—silver, 419—stron¬
tium, 396—sulphur, 374—tellurium,
379—thorium, 402—tin, 413—titani¬
um, 391—tungsten, 390—uranium,
389—vanadium, 388—yttrium, 399-
zinc, 410—zirconium, 401.
Oxiuri, insects, IX. 227.
Oxley (Mr), his discoveries in New South
Wales, XXI. 714.
Oxds, river, XVI. 687 ; III. 697.
Oxybelus, insect, IX. 230.
Oxycera, insect, IX. 271.
Oxycrate, XVI. 688.
Oxydes. See Oxides.
Oxygen, XVI. 688 ; VI. 359—a compo¬
nent part of the atmosphere, IV. 134 ;
XVII. 531—specific gravity of, II. 135
—its use with hydrogen in the blow¬
pipe, IV. 716—eifects of food contain¬
ing, VIII. 24—consumed in respira¬
tion, XVII. 646—an active agent in
the decomposition of timber, XX. 273
—essential to germination, XXI.,568
—produced by plants, 577 ; but not
by the flowers, 583.
 acids, VI. 426,
■ acid salts, VI. 445.
Oxyhydrogen microscope, XV. 44, 46.
Oxylus, VIII. 670.
Oxymuriate of potash, gunpowder from,
XI. 83.
Oxymuriates. See Chlorates.
Oxymuriatic acid, or Chlorine, VI. 359.
See Chlorine.
Oxyopus, genus of arachnides, III. 362.
Oxyporus, insect, IX. 137.
Oxypterus, in zoology, XIV. 180.
Oxyrhynchus, bird, XVI. 583.
Oxytelus, insect, IX. 137.
Oxyuris, zoophyte, XXL 998.
Oyer, in law, XVI. 688.
Oyes, XVI. 688.
Oyola, island, XVI. 688.
Oyster Harbour, XVI. 688.
Oyster Island, XVI. G88.
Oyster, XV. 372—pearl-oyster of Cey¬
lon, VI. 300 — Essex oyster-fishery,
IX. 369. See Pearl.
Oyster-catcher, bird, XVI. 617.
Ozanum (James), mathematician, XVI.
688—on dialling, VII. 760.
Ozark Mountains, II. 614 ; XXI. 452—
geology of, II. 614.
Ozell (John), XVI. 689.
Ozernaia, XVI. 689.
Ozieri, Sardinian city, XVI. 689.
Ozmazome, VI. 503 : VIII. 19 : XVII.
637, 651.
Ozolaj, XVI. 689.
Ozorius, insect, IX. 138.
PAA—PAH
P
P, letter of the alphabet, XVI. 690.
Paamyles, VIII. 554 ; XI. 321.
Pabulum, XVI. 690. See Fuel.
Pacajes, in Bolivia, XVI. 690.
Paccalqngan, in Java, XVI. 690.
Pace, XVI. 690.
Pacem, town in Sumatra, XVI. 690.
Pacha, IV. 425.
Pachamac, in Peru, XVI. 690.
Packard (Dr), his ascent of Mont
Blanc, II. 562.
Pachas, in zoology, XIV. 141.
Paches, IV. 156.
Pachydermata, XIV. 146—their bones,
III. 5, et seq.—organs of smell, 21—
teeth, 32, 33—structure, XVII. 706.
Pachygaster, insect, IX. 271.
Packyptila, bird, XVI. 632,
Pachypus, insect, IX. 157.
Pachysome, in zoology, XIV. 100.
Pacific Ocean, XVI. 690 ; XX. 488—
low and elevated islands in the, XVII.
515—currents, 517.
Paciolus (Lucas), on algebra, II. 422.
Pack-horse, XL 591.
Package of the bodily organs, XVII. 605.
Packanoa, Malay town, XVI. 690.
Packet, or Packet-Boat, XVI. 690—
mail-packets, XVIII. 491.
Pactolus, river, XVI. 690.
Pacurianus, VII. 286.
Pacuvius (Marcus), poet, XVI. 690.
Pad ah, Hindu town, XVI. 690.
Padang, XVI. 691.
 Gucm, river, XVJ. 691.
Paddington, XVI. 691; XIII. 540.
Paddle-wheels., XX. 686, 704—analysis
of the action of, 705.
Paddock, XVI. 691; XL 604.
Paderborn, Prussian city, XVI. 691.
Paderni, XI. 263.
Padiham, in Lancashire, XVI. 691.
Padstow, Cornish town, XVI. 691.
Padua, XVI. 691—Academy of Sciences
at, II. 69.
Paduan, medal, XVI. 691.
Padula, Neapolitan town, XVI. 691.
Padus, river, XVI. 691. See Po.
P/ean; XVI. 691.
Psecilopoda, Crustacea, VII. 503.
Pseciloptera, insects, IX. 203.
Paoderus, insect, IX. 137.
Paedo-Baptism, XVI. 691.
Pseonieae, in botany, V. 95.
Paestum, ancient Italian town, XVIII.
139 ; XV. 699—temples of,'V. 787.
Paez (Peter), II. 53.
  (General), IV. 743 5 VII. 99—
his rebellion, 104—elected President
of Colombia,,! 10.
Pagahm, Burmese city, XVI. 691.
Pagan (Blaise Francois Comte de), XVI.
691—on fortification, IX. 770.
Paganalia, Roman festivals, XVI. 692.
Paganism, XVI. 692; XL 487; XII.
243 ; XVIII. 330—mixed with Chris¬
tianity by the Church of Rome, III.
297, n. 2, 300—its overthrow at Rome,
XIX. 419—its alleged tolerant spirit
disputed, XX. 446.
Page, in chivalry, VI. 602. _
Pageant, XVI. 692.
Pagellus, fish, XII. 177.
Pages, islets, XVI. 692.
Pagi (Antony), critic, XVI. 692.
 , of Chili, VI. 525.
Pagninus (Sanctes), XVI. 692—his ver¬
sion of the Bible, IV. 615.
Pagnani, Italian town, XVI. 692.
Pago, island, XVI. 692.
Pagoda, coin, XVI. 692.
 , Hindu temple, XVI. 692 ; III.
433 ; VII. 696 ; XL 408.
Pagrus, fish, XII. 177.
Pagurus, VII. 502.
Pahang, island, XVI. 692.
 , in Malacca, XVI. 692.
Pahiavi, III. 691—language, XVII. 380.
PAH—PAL
Paho, river, XVI. 692.
Paimbceuf, in France, XVI. 692.
Pain, insensibility of insects to, III. 164
—lessened by custom, VII. 560—sen¬
sation of, XVII. 662—'pleasure from
cessation of, XVIII. 54—utility of,
667—of the senses, XX. 96.
Paine (Mr), his iron bridge, V. 279.
 (Thomas), his work entitled Com¬
mon Sense, V. 458—his Eights of Man,
464 ; XIII. 655.
Paingeon, blind mathematician, IV. 699.
Painomjeung, in Thibet, XVI. 692.
Painswick, XVI. 692.
Painter’s work, in building, V. 695.
Painting, XVI. 693—in Abyssinia, II.
61—ancient, III. 259 ; XI. 262—Chi¬
nese, VI. 572—Dutch school of, XI.
532—ancient Egyptian, VIII. 540, n.
2; 544—in Hindustan, XI. 408—Aca¬
demies of, at Paris, II. 73 • Rome, Tu¬
rin, Milan, Florence, Modena, Madrid,
and Stockholm, 74—American custom
of painting the skin, II. G21—.colours
used in, VII. 127—crayon-painting,
451—design, 740—painting in enamel,
VIII. 693—encaustic painting, 694—
fresco, X. 231 — mosaic, HI. 257 ;
XV. 568 — miniature, 268—painted
glass, X. 565, 572—illumination of
manuscripts, XII. 249—application of
painting to the improvement of, ana¬
tomy, XIV. 518—knowledge of anato¬
my necessary to painters, XVII. 610
—qualities common to painting and
poetry, XVIII. 141—painting of por¬
celain, 431,436—house-painting, XVI.
730 ; V. 695. See Fine Arts.
Pair, or couple, XVI. 733.
Pairing of animals, XVI. 733; III. 168.
Pairle, in heraldry, XI. 251.
Paisley, XVI. 733—manufacture of
fancy-muslins at, VII. 407—canal to
Glasgow and Ardrossan, X. 551.
Paita, town in Peru, XVI. 736.
Paitan, in Borneo, XVI. 736.
Paixhans (Col.), his gun, XI. 73.
Pakir, Arabian port, XVI. 736.
Palace, XVI. 736 — ancient Roman
palaces, III. 444.
Palachy, Indian town, XVI. 736.
Pal^mon (Q. Rhemmius), XVI. 736.
Palseologus (George), VII. 285.
 (Michael), XVI. 7 36 ; VII. 287.
Palseornis, bird, XVI. 601.
Pal*paphos, in Cyprus, XVI. 736.
Pakephatus, XIX. 780.
Palaestra, XVI. 736.
Palalaika, XVI. 736.
Palamedea, bird, XVI. 626.
Palamedes, XVI. 736.
Palamow, in Bengal, XVI. 736.
Palaos, islands, XVII. 179.
Palapetty, Hindu town, XVI. 736.
Palar, river, XVI. 737.
Palaria, XVI. 737.
Palarus, insect, IX. 229.
Palate, XVII. 663—bones of the, II.
778—muscles of the, 794—soft palate
803.
Palatinate, XVI. 737.
 of the Rhine, XVI. 737.
Palatine (Count), title, XVI. 737.
 Games, m Rome, XVI. 737.
   Hill, XIX. 424, 425.
Palatsha, in Asia Minor, XVI. 737.
Palawan Isle, XVI. 737.
Palazzola, Sicilian city, XVI. 737.
Palcati Nor, lake, XVI. 737.
Palcote, town in Bengal, XVI. 737.
Pale, XVI. 737.
 , in heraldry, XVI. 778; XI. 248.
Palese, in botany, V. 40.
Palembang, in Sumatra, XVI. 737.
Palemerdy, Hindu town, XVI. 738.
Palencia, in Spain, XVI. 738.
Palenga, Hindu village, XVI. 738.
Palenque, ruins of, XIV. 810, 812.
Palermo, in Sicily, XVI. 788 ; XV. 700
—mortality in, XV. 538.
Pales, goddess, XVI. 738.
Palestine, XVI. 739—Saladin’s con¬
quests in, VIII. 481, 482—map of,
PAL
XVI. PI. CCCCII.-2. See Canaan,
Crusades.
Palestrina, in Austria,,XVI. 760.
Paley (William), D.D., XVI. 760—on
Tucker’s writings, I. 114—disputed
the existence of a moral faculty, 225
—followed the opinions of Bishop
Law, 226—on moral sense, 298—one
of the brightest ornaments of the
English church in the 18th century,
372—did not owe his system to Hume,
ib.—fitter for business than philoso¬
phy, ib.—his genius and practical bent,
ib., 37 3—his style, ib.—his Evidences
of Christianity, Moral and Political
Philosophy, and Natural Theology, ib.
—on virtue, 374—erroneous views on
honour, ib.—occasionally a lax moral¬
ist, 375—his political and ecclesiasti¬
cal views, 376—on charity, VI. 327-
price of the copyright of his Moral
Philosophy, VII. 315 — on divorce,
VIII. 72—on the character of re¬
formers, IX. 356, n. 3 — on happi¬
ness. IX. 142 ; I. 374—on instinct,
226 ; XII. 306—on the hand, XVII.
618 — on prayer, XVIII. 506—on
tithes, XXI. 114—on the goodness
of God, 209.
Palfrey, XVI. 762.
Palfyn on,anatomy, II. 703.
Palgunge, Hindu town, XVI. 763.
Palhaunpoor, XVI. 763.
Palicaudcherry, XVI. 763.
Palimpedes, birds, XVI. 628.
Palimpsests, XVI. 763 ; IV. 621 —
Cicero De Eepublica, VI. 695—parts
of the Theodosian Code discovered at
Turin and Milan, 715.
Palindromus, XVI. 768.
Palingenesia, XVI. 768.
PalingeniUs (Marcellus), XVI. 768.
Palinode, XVI. 768.
Palinurus, XVI. 768.
 vulgaris, VII. 502.
Palisades, in fortification, IX. 786.
Palisse (La), in France, XVL 769,
Palkah, Hindu town, XVL 769.
Palk’s Straits, XVI. 769.
Pall, in heraldry, XVI. 769.
Palla, Roman mantle, XVI. 769.
Palla Isle, XVL 769.
Palladio (Andrea), XVL 769 — his
architectural publications and works,
III. 425, 426 — his designs of the
orders of architecture, 452.
Palladium, statue, XVL 769.
 , a metal, VI. 422—salts of oxide
of, 452—specific gravity of, XII. 34-
native, XV. 165.
Palladius, bishop, XVI. 769—his mis¬
sion to Ireland, XII. 352.
Pallanza, X'VI. 769.
Pallas (Simon Peter), XVL 769—his
botanical labours, V. 79—on orni¬
thology, XVL 548.
———, planet, IV. 29—discovery of,
III. 748.
 , goddess. See Minerva.
PALLAViciNO.(Ferrante), XVI, 771.
— (Cardinal), his History of the
Council of Trent, I. 421.
Palleeangan Isle, XVI. 772.
Pallet, XVL 772.
Pallets of a clock, VI. 768, et seq.
Palliatab, XVL 772.
Palliser (Sir Hugh), IV. 349 ; V. 496
•—his dispute with Keppel, 4'07.
 (Cape), XVL 772.
Palliser’s Islands, XVL 772.
Pallium, XVI. 772.
Palm, XVII. 452—texture of wood of,
III. 62—bark of, 64—stem of, 81—
an emblem of victory, XVI. 773.
Palm Islands, XVL 773.
Palm Sunday, XVI. 773.
Palma, XVL 773; XIV. 49; XV. 702.
Palma;, in botany, V. 135.
Palmarole, island, XVIII. 362.
Palmas (Las), XVI. 773.
Palmer (F.), prosecution of, V. 471.
—— (Mr),; his improvements in the
post-office, XVIII. 488,
116
INDEX,
PAL—PAN
Palmerston Island, XVI. 773.
Palmi, Italian city, XVI. 773.
 on ship-building, XX. 263.
Palmiras, XVI. 773.
Palmistry, XVI. 773.
Palmcs, measure, XVI. 773.
Palmyra, XVI. 773; VII. 157—ruins
of, III. Hi—conquered by Aurelian,
XIX. 412.
 , worm, XI. 221.
Palmyra-tree of Ceylon, VI. 300.
Palnaud, in India, XVI. 777.
Palo, Turkish town, XVI. 778.
Palos, XVI. 778.
Palpah, in Hindustan, XVI. 778.
Palpatores, insects, IX. 146.
Palpicornes, insects, IX. 150.
Palpimanus, arachnides, III. 363.
Palbee, Hindu town, XVI. 778.
Palsy, effect of electricity in curing,
VIII. 641—in the domestic animals,
XXI. 633.
Paludamentum, XVI. 778.
Paludina, mollusea, XV. 348.
Palus Meotis, XVI. 778.
Paly, XVI. 778—Paly Bende, ib.
Pamboon, in Celebes, XVI. 778.
Pamborus, insect, IX. 130.
Pameb, in Asia, XVI. 778.
Pamiers, in France, XVI. 778.
Pampas of S. America, II. 607, 642.
Pampelcna, XVI. 778.
Pamper, Hindu town, XVI. 778.
Pamphilus, painter, XVI. 778, 701.
 , insect, IX. 218.
Pamplona, in Colombia, XVI. 778.
Pan, heathen god, XVI. 780.
Pansenus, Greek painter, XVI. 700.
Panagseus, insect, IX. 128.
Panagbr, Hindu town, XVI. 781.
Panama, XVI. 784, 785 —the town
taken by the bucaneers, V. 624.
  (Isthmds of), XVI. 781—pro¬
posed canal across, II. 651; XVI. 28
—communication with New Zealand
across, XXI. 983.
Panamao Isle, XVI. 787.
Panaon, island, XVI. 787.
Panaraga, in Java, XVI. 787.
Panaria, island, XIII. 370.
Panaroocan, in Java, XVI. 787.
PANATHENiEA, festival, XVI. 787.
Panaulon, XVI. 787.
Pancarpiis, XVI. 787.
Panchberarah XVI. 787.
Panchperee, IV. 468.
Panco Point, XVI. 788.
Pancras, in London, XVI. 788.
Pancratium, exercise, XVI. 788.
Pancreas, anatomy of the, II. 817—dis¬
ease of the, XVII. 482.
Pancreatic juice, XVII. 631 ; VI. 495.
Pancreatin, VI. 496.
Pancsova, XVI. 788.
Panda, goddess, XVI. 788.
Pandauese, in botany, V. 136.
Pandar, Hindu town, XVI. 788.
Pandects, XVI. 788; VI. 717; XIH.
182 — story of their discovery at
Amalfi, VI. 718—Cunningham’s me¬
ditated edition of the, VII. 546.
Pandiculation, XVI. 788.
Pandion, bird, XVI. 562.
Pandiwora, XVI. 788.
Pandocia, mollusea, XV. 368.
Pandola, mollusca, XV. 364.
Pandora, XVI. 788.
Pandura, XVI. 788.
Panegyric, XVI. 788.
Panegyricum, XVI. 788.
Panel, XVI. 788—in architecture, HI.
468—in joinery, V. 688.
Panela, Hindu town, XVI. 789.
Pangansane Isle, XVI. 789.
Pangolin, in zoology, XIV. 144.
Pangonia, insect, IX. 265.
Pangootarran, island, XVI. 789.
Panha, Hindu village, XVI. 789.
Paniany, XVI. 789, 763.
Panic, XVI. 789.
Panicle, in botany, V. 40.
Panionia, festival, XVI. 789.
Paniput. See Panniput,
PAN—PAP
Panmelodicon, XVI. 789.
Pannah, Hindu town, XVI. 789.
Pannaria, island, XVI. 789.
Pannartz, early printer, XVIII. 548.
Panniput, Hindu town, XVI. 789—
battle of, XI. 412.
Panopea, in conehology, XV. 341.
Panoplis, ruins of, VIII. 544.
Panorama, XVI. 789.
Panormo, Turkish town, XVI. 790.
Panorpa, insect, IX. 21#.
Panorpatse, insects, IX. 211.
Panou, Russian river, XVI. 790.
Pant^nus, philosopher, XVI. 790.
Pantalone, XVI. 790.
Pantaloon, XVI. 790.
Pantellaria, island, XVI. 790.
Panthea, XVI. 790.
Pantheism, XVI. 790.
Pantheon of Rome, XVI. 791; XIX.
428—its architecture, HI. 443, 444.
Panther, XIV. 121.
Pantiku, Turkish village, XVI. 792.
Pantograph, XVII. 1.
Pantomime, XVII. 2.; VII. 614—use
of the language of, with the deaf and
dumb, 648, 65K
Panurgus, insect, IX. 233.
Panwell, Hindu town, XVII. 2.
Pany Isle, XVII. 2.
Pao (San Juan del), XVII. 2.
Pao-King, in China, XVII. 3.
Paola, Italian city, XVII. 3.
Paoli (General), Boswell’s visit to, V. 27.
Paoom, island, XVII. 3.
Paoting, Chinese city, XVII. 3.
Pap Castle, XVII. 7.
Papa, Hungarian town, XVII. 3.
Papal States, XVII. 3—weights and
measures of the, XXI. 855.
Papandayang, volcano in the island of
Java, XVII. 511, 513.
Papaveraceae, in botany, V. 96.
Papaw tree, V. 68.
Papayacese, in botany, V. 111.
Papemberg, island, XVII. 7.
Paper, XVIL 7—of books, IV. 621
—mode of whitening and cleaning,
692—ancient, VIII. 37—filtering, IX.
583—why a worse preserver of writ¬
ing than vellum, XII. 269—Japanese,
517—kind used by the early Mentz
printers, XVIII. 546, n. 1 — paper¬
making in France, X. 182—bleaching
of rags, IV. 691. See Diplomatics.
Paper-Money, XVII. 19. See Bank¬
notes, Bills of Exchange.
Paphlagonia, XVII. 48.
Paphos, islands, XVII. 48.
Papias, ancient bishop, XVII. 48.
Papier Mache, XVII. 48.
Papilio, insect, IX. 241.
Papillse, II. 752 ; XVII. 606—of the
tongue, in man, II. 804 ; in the lower
animals, III. 27.
Papillon (John Michael), wood-engrav¬
er, XXL 917.
Papillone, in heraldry, XI. 252.
Papin (Dr), on transmission of force
through air in pipes, XVIII. 109.
  (Denys), his digester, I. 654;
XX. 608, 577—ou the preparation of
food by steam, 608—his steam-engine,
635—his suggestion of steam-naviga¬
tion, 686.
Papinian, lawyer, XVII. 48.
Papists. See Pope, Popery, Roman Ca¬
tholics.
Papons, II. 710 ; XVII. 554, 698.
Pappal, in Borneo, XVII. 48 ; V. 10.
Pappenheim, XVII. 48 ; XXI. 18.
Pappus of Alexandria, XVII. 48—his
solution of the trisection of -an arc,
III. 131—on the works and charac¬
ter of Apollonius, 287-9 —parts of
Apollonius preserved by, VII. 219—
works of, X. 427 ; XIV. 315—on me¬
chanics, 349.
Papua, or New Guinea, XVII. 48 ; IV.
210—Papous, or Papuans, II. 710;
XVII. 554., 698.
Papyrus, XVII. 48 ; VIII. 466—paper
made from the, 37 ; XVII. 7—papyri
PAR
found at Herculaneum, VII. 642 ;
XI. 263; XV. 708.
Par, or equal, XVII. 50.
Para, XVII. 50—population of, V. 202
—trade of, 210.
Parable, XVII. 54.
Parabola, VII. 221.
Paraboloid, mensuration of, XIV. 575.
Paracatu, in Brazil, XVII. 54.
Paracelsus (P. A. T.), XVII. 54—cha¬
racter of, I. 18—his application of
chemistry to pharmacy, 454—on de¬
mons, III. 295, n.—history of, VI. 345
—writings of, 346—on the medical
qualities of the magnet, XIV. 2.
Paracentisis in animals, XXI. 631.
Parachronism, II. 680.
Parachute, II. 190—theory of, 191.
Paraclete, XVII. 56.
Paradanga, in Bengal, XVII. 56.
Paradis (Mle.), IV. 702.
Paradise, XVII. 56—condition of man
in, XXI. 214—Mahommedan, XIV.
37. See Eden.
   (Birds of), XVI. 585.
Paradox, XVII. 56—hydrostatic, XII.
12, 13.
Paradox:, XVII. 57.
Paradoxurus, in zoology, XIV. 118.
Paragaud®, XVII. 57.
Paragogue, XVII. 57.
Paragong, Hindu town, XVII. 57.
Paragraph, XVII. 57.
Paragreles, VIII. 622.
Paraguay, in South America, XVII.
57 ; II. 643—Indians of, 630—means
adopted by the Jesuits to improve
them, 626, 630—Jesuits in, V. 143;
XII. 554; XVIII. 143.
 , river, XVII. 63—its navigation,
V. 649 ; XVI. 28.
Paragus, insect, IX. 273.
Paraiba, or Parahyba, in Brazil, XVII.
64—river, 65 ; XIX. 247.
Paralipomena, XVII. 65.
Parallax, XVII. 65; II. 32—explana¬
tion of, III. 761—solar, 773 ; I. 671-2
—lunar, ib.; III. 786—of Mars, IV.
24—of the fixed stars, 43—mode of
computing, 67.
Parallel, XVII. 65.
  Lines, X. 437 —how to draw
them, 451.
  Motion of steam-engine, XX.
657.
 Sphere, XVII. 65.
Parallels of Latitude, XVII. 65; X.
405—of Altitude, XVII. 65—of De¬
clination, ib.; III. 755.
Parallelogram, X. 433, 438, 445—how
to construct one, 451.
 of forces, VIII. 356 ; XIV. 350,
353—some special uses of, VIII. 362
—-machine for illustrating, XIV. 454.
Parallelopiped, XVII. 65; X. 460.
Paralogism, XVII. 65.
Paramsecium, animalcules, III. 188.
Paramaribo, XVII. 65.
Paramatta, XVII. 65 ; XXI. 712.
Parameter, VII. 247.
Parana, river, XVII. 66, 63—naviga¬
tion of the, V. 649.
Parandra, insect, IX. 178.
Paranthine, a mineral, XV, 153.
Paranymph, XVII. 67.
Parapet, in fortification, XVII. 67—in
architecture. III. 462, 468.
Paraphernalia, XVII. 67.
Paraphrase, XVII. 67.
Paraphrosyne, XVII. 67.
Parasang, measure, XVII. 67.
Parascenium, XVII. 67.
Paraselene, XVII. 67.
Parasemon, XVII. 67.
Parasita, insects, IX. 60, 295.
Parasite, XVII. 67.
Parasites, in botany, XVII. 68.
Parastas, in architecture, III. 468.
Paratonnerre, XVII. 538.
Pareuncle, XVII. 68.
Parc«, or Fates, XVII. 68.
Parchment, XVII. 68—formerly used
for books, IV. 621.
PAR
Parcieux (M. de), his aqueduct at Paris,
XXI. 790. See Deparcieux.
Pardalotus, bird, XVI. 568.
Pardies (Ignatius Gaston), French Je¬
suit, XVII. 68; I. 551.
Pardon, XVII. 68—royal prerogative
of, IX. 37—wherein distinct from jus¬
tification, XXI. 230.
Pare (Ambrose), his surgical skill and
improvements, XX. 828.
Pareenuggur, XVII. 69.
Paregorics, XVII. 70.
Parelcon, XVII. 70.
Parembole, XVII. 70.
Parenchyma, II. 731; III. 57,59; XVII.
596, 640—of trees, III. 83.
Parent, XVII. 70—duties to and of,
XV. 471, 472—Mosaic law relating
to parent and child, XV. 566—paren¬
tal affection of brutes, V. 616.
 (Mons.), on mathematics, XIV.
321—on mechanics, 352—on the sails
of windmills, 433.
Parentalia, XVII. 71.
Parenthesis, XVII. 71.
Parga, Greek town, XVII. 71.
Parhelion, XVII. 71, 542; XIV. 750;
XVI. 509—colours of, VI. 634.
Paria, a province of Bolivia, XVII.
72—Gulf of, 73.
Parian Chronicle, III. 659.
Parias, or Pariahs, Hindu tribe, XVII.
73; V. 178.
Parietal bones of man, II. 774—of the
mammalia, III. 4.
Parillin, VI. 467.
Parime (Cordillera of), in America, II.
608—its geology, 609.
Parinacochas, in Peru, XVII. 73.
Paris, capital of France, XVII. 73—
Chirurgical Academy of, II. 68—Royal
Academy of Sciences, 69—Academy of
Painting and Sculpture, 73—Acade¬
mies of Music, Architecture,' Dan¬
cing, and Medals, 74, 75 ; of Politics,
77—first ascent of a balloon at, 185
—prevalence of the crime of poison¬
ing in, during the reign of .Louis
XIV., III. 314-dome of the Halle du
Bled, 392; XIX. 456—architecture
of public buildings, III. 427—Institu¬
tion for the Blind, TV. 699—iron
bridge at, V. 279—Deaf and Dumb
Asylum, VII. 658—dramatic criticism
in, VIII. 166—taken by the Allies in
1814, X. 168—street-lamps of, XIII.
45, 345—libraries, 305—variation of
the needle, 738 ; and of its dip, 745-
births, deaths,&c., XV. 531—prostitu¬
tion, XVIII. 256—the Sorbonne, XX.
481—university of, XXI. 483—aque¬
ducts at, 790—measures used in, 847.
 , in Kentucky, XII. 698-9.
 (Plaster of) See Gypsum.
  (Matthew), English historian,
XVII. 82 ; XIII. 293.
 , son of Priam, XVII. 82.
 , Roman actor, VIII. 152.
Parish, XVII. 83—English parishes,
VIII. 763—Scotch, XIX. 762, 763.
Parish-clerk, XVII. 83.
Parish-registers, XV. 513.
Parish-schools, Scotch, XIX. 765.
Park, XVII. 83; XX. 301, n.
 (Mungo), traveller, XVII. 83;
X. 403—his African discoveries, H.
220, 236—his death, 238 —literary
aid of Bryan Edwards to, VIII. 452
—his discovery of the course of the
Niger, XVI. 220.
 (Mr), on codification, XIII. 193.
Parker (Sir Hyde), V. 414—his expedi¬
tion against Copenhagen, 500.
 (Matthew), archbishop of Can¬
terbury, XVII. 85 — his English
Bible, IV. 618.
 (Peter), printer, XVIII. 554.
 (Richard), mutiny of, V. 481.
Parker’s burning-lens, V. 726, 738.
 cement, V. 678, 680, 681.
Parkinson on hop-growing, II. 294.
Parkur, in Hindustan, XVII. 85.
Parley, XVII. 85.
INDEX
117
PAR
Pabiiament, XVII. 85—English, IX.
7, et seq.—bill in, IV. 640—septennial
act, V. 376—attempt to repeal that
act, 379—prosecution of printers in
1771 for publishing debates, 395 —
its right to advise the sovereign as
to peace and war, 420—Pitt’s plan
for reform of, 428, 436—Flood’s mo¬
tion for reform, 457 — societies of
the “ Friends of the People” for pro¬
curing reform, 463, 466—Mr Grey’s
motions for reform, 463, 470—effect
of the French revolution in extending
the desire for reform, 466—first meet¬
ing of the imperial parliament, 498
—agitation for reform, 546, 577, 580
— bills for reform, 551, 553, 556,
558, 578, 581—passing of the reform
act, 584—committee of, VII. 177—
Scotch representatives in, XIX. 766
—Horne Tooke’s exertions to procure
the publication of debates, XXI. 335
—Parliamentary Reports, XX. 568.
 House, Edinburgh, VIII. 419.
Parma (Duke of), his operations in the
Netherlands, XVI. 109.
 , Italian state and city, XVII. 91
—cheese of, VII. 591—coins in, XV.
408, 410—school of painting, XVI.
719 — weights and measures, XXI.
854.
Parmacella, mollusca, XV. 357.
Parmaribo, XI. 22.
Parmesan cheese, VII. 591.
Pabmiqiano, Italian painter and en¬
graver, XVII. 91 ; IX. 45—-his style
of painting, XVI. 719.
Parnahiba, town in Brazil, XVII. 734,
Parnassiese, in botany, V. 98.
Parnassius, insect, IX. 241.
Parnassus, mountain, XVII. 91.
Parnell (Dr Thomas), poet, XVII. 92.
 (Sir Henry) on banking in Ire¬
land, XVII. 44.
Parnella, Hindu town, XVII. 92.
Parnopes, insects, IX. 227.
Parnus, insect, IX. 150.
Paro, river, XVII. 92.
Parody, XVII. 92.
Parole, XVII. 92.
Paronomasia, XVII. 93.
Paronychiaceae, in botany, V. 112.
Paropsieae, in botany, V. 111.
Paropsis, insect, IX. 183.
Paros, island, XVII. 93—Parian Chro¬
nicle, III. 659.
Parotia, bird, XVI. 588.
Parotid gland, II. 804—disease of, in
the domestic animals, XXI. 622.
Parparsarat, XVII. 93.
Parr (Catherine), queen of England,
XVII. 93 ; VIII. 743-6, 750.
  (Samuel), XVII. 93—his charge
of plagiarism against Dr Middleton,
IV. 553 — his correspondence with
Malcolm Laing, XIII. 21, 23, 25-
letter from him to Roscoe, XIX. 474.
 (Thomas), XVII. 97.
—   , fish, XII. 208.
Parra, bird, XVI. 626.
Parrakeet, bird, XVI. 602.
Parrels, XVII. 98.
Parret, river, XX. 475.
Parrhasiana, II. 675.
Parrhasius, XVII. 98 ; XXI. 988-
paintings of, XVI. 701.
—   (James), XVII. 98.
Parriah, Hindu town, XVII. 98.
Parricide, XVII. 98.
Parrot, XVI. 603.
 (Prof.), his filter, IX. 581.
—■— Islands, XVII. 98.
Parrot-fish, XII. 196.
Parry (Dr), on crossing breeds of sheep,
II. 335—on the fineness of wools,
XXI. 920.
" (Sir Edward), arctic voyages of,
X. 401, 757 ; XVIII. 220, 221.
Parsee language, XVII. 379.
Parsers, or Persees, XVII. 240; IV.
164 ; XI. 32, 395 —their mythology,
VII. 698—tombs, XXI. 324.
Parsley, culture of, XI. 674.
PAR—PAS
Parsnip, culture of, II. 290 ; XI. 670.
Parson, XVII. 98—a sole corporation,
VII. 374—English parsons, VIII. 788.
Parsonage, XVII. 99.
Parsonauth, XVII. 99.
Parsondas, IV. 542.
Parsons (Mr), his experiments on the
fastenings of ships, XX. 296.
Parsonstown, XII. 728.
Part, XVII. 99—Logical—Physical—
Aliquot—Aliquant, ib.
Partalpoor, XVII. 99.
Partanna, in Sicily, XVII. 99.
Parterre, XVII. 99.
Parthenay, in France, XVII. 99.
Parthenon, III. 435, 471, 472 ; IV. 122
—destruction of the, 128.
Parthia, XVII. 99, 260—conquered
by Trajan, XIX. 407.
Parthians, XI. 479—their wars with the
Romans, XIX. 396„
Parti, in heraldry, XVII. 106.
Participles, XVII. 106 ; X. 666, 684.
Partisan, XVII. 106.
Partitions of timber, V. 685.
Partners, in shipbuilding> XX. 285.
Partnership, XVII. 106.
Partridge, XVII. 106 ; XVI. 611—
partridge-shooting, XX. 312.
—  (Mr), his composition for dimi¬
nishing friction, XIV. 443.
Partridge’s Island, XVII. 106.
Parturition, XIV. 494 ; XVII. 692—
time of, in different animals, III. 169.
See Gestation, Midwifery.
Party, XVII. 106.
Parupanada, XVII. 106.
Parus, bird, XVI. 579.
Parvich, island, XVII. 106.
Parys, copper-mine of, III. 132.
Pasanga, island, XVII. 107.
Pasay, in Sumatra, XVII. 107.
Pascal (Blaise), XVII. 107—his Provin¬
cial Letters, I. 81, 82—his Thoughts
on Religion, 82—on pneumatics, IV.
386 ; XVIII. 74—on hydrodynamics,
XII. 2—on mathematics, XIV. 317,
318—his calculating-machine, 354—
on probability, XVIII. 591.
Pasco, in Peru, XVII. 109.
Pasha, or Bashaw, IV. 425 ; XXI. 422
—Greek, X. 733.
Pasigraphy, XVII. 109.
Pasihan, island, XVII. 109.
Pasiphae, XVII. 109.
Pasites, insect, IX. 234.
Pasley (John), XXI. 170.
  (Colonel), his telegraph, XXL
138, et seq.
Pasquin, XVII. 109.
Pasquinade, XVII. 110.
Pass, in fencing, XVII. 110.
Passade, XVII. 110.
Passage Island, XVII. 110.
 Isle, XVII. 110.
Passages, Spanish port, XVII, 110.
Passagno, VI. 98.
Passaluss insect, IX. 162.
Passaman, XVII. 110.
Passandra, insect, IX. 117.
Passant, in heraldry, XVII. 110.
Passarouang, XVII. 110.
Passau, in Bavaria, XVII. 110.
Passiflorese, in botany, V. 111.
Passion, XVII. 110—distinguished from
conscience, I. 410 ; and from emotion,
VIII. 692—figurative language appro¬
priate to animating passion, VII. 186
—passions of man, XV. 457, 459—
their contrast, 464—their effects on
the countenance, XIV. 196.
Passion Week, XVII. 110.
Passir, XVII. 110 ; V. 10.
Passive, XVII. 110—Obedience, 111;
V. 632—Strength, VI. 152.
Passover, XVII. 111.
Passport, XVII. 112.
Passumah, XVII. 112.
Pasteboard, XVII. 112.
Pastern, XVII. 112.
Pastil, XVII. 112.
Pastime, or sport, XVII. 112.
Pasto, in Colombia, XVII. 114.
PAS—PAT
Pastophori, XVII. 114.
Pastoral tribes of Asia, III. 685—their
manners, 694.
 Poetry, XVIII. 152, 399.
Pastures, II. 310 ; XV. 73—their influ¬
ence on milk, 73. See Meadow.
Pata Isle, XVII. 114.
Patasci, XVII. 114.
Patagonia, XVII. 114—climate of, II
612—stature of the natives of, 630;
XIV. 202.
Patan, Hindu town, XVII. 119.
Patany, XVII. 119.
Patara, Turkish town, XVII. 119.
Patatan, XVII. 119.
Patavinity, XVII. 120.
Patchow Islands, XVII. 120.
Patcoona, XVII. 120.
Pate, in fortification, XVII. 120.
Patee, in heraldry, XVII. 120.
Patella, or knee-pan, II. 790—sprain of,
in cattle, XXI. 618.
■ , in conchology, XV. 348, 360,
373.
Patellimani, insects, IX. 128.
Patent, wherein different from copy¬
right, VII. 314—defects of law of
VI. 800.
Patera, XVII. 120.
Paterculus (C. Velleius), historian,
XVII. 120—Burman’s edition of, V.
718—on Roman literature, XVII. 412.
Paternity, XIV. 494. See Father.
Paterno, Sicilian city, XVII. 120.
Paternosters (Great and Little),islets,
XVII. 120.
Paterson (Lieutenant), on the tetraodon
electricus, VIII. 614.
 (Rev. Mr), projector of the Scot¬
tish colony of Darien, VII. 625.
Patery, in Hindustan, XVII. 120.
Pathhead, XVII. 120.
Pathognomonic, XVII. 120.
Pathology, XVII. 121, 584 ; XIV.
515, et seq. See Disease.
Patience, XVII 138 ; XV. 470.
Patientia Strait, XVII. 138.
Patigumo, XVII. 138.
Patin (Guy), XVII. 138.
 (Charles), XVII. 138.
Patkul (John Reinhold), XVII. 138.
Patmos, Greek island, XVII. 139—an¬
cient MSS. in, XIII. 289.
Patna, Hindu city, XVII. 139.
Patomack. See Potowmack.
Patonce, in heraldry, XVII. 139.
Patos (Lagoa dos), XIX. 245.
Patras, Greek city, XVII. 139.
Patree, Hindu town, XVII. 140.
Patriarch, XVII. 140—ecclesiastical,
XI. 489—nature of the property of
the ancient patriarchs, XVIII. 660.
Patriarchal Cross, XVII. 142.
Patrician, Roman, XVII. 142 ; I. 304.
Patricius (Franciscus), works of, I. 25.
Patrick (St), XVII. 142—his'mission
to Ireland, XII. 352.
 (St), Order of, XVII. 143.
 (Simon), bishop, XVII. 143.
Patrin on meteorolites, XIV. 714.
Patrimony, XVII. 143,
Patrington, XVII. 143.
Patriotism, XVII. 143—duties of, XV.
477.
Patripassians, sect, XVII. 144.
Patrobus, insect, IX. 128.
Patroclus, Greek chief, XVII. 144.
Patrol, in war, XVII. 144.
Patron, Roman, XVII. 144; XIX.
377—patron-saints in the Church of
Rome, XVII. 144.
Patronage, XVII. 144 ; II. 169—in
Scotland, XXI. 911.
Patronymic, XVII. 149.
Patros, in Egypt, XVII. 150.
Pattan, XVII. 150.
Pattealah, XVII. 150.
Patterson, a town in the state of New
Jersey, XII. 543.
Patti, Jaranese town, XVII. 150.
Pattiary, Hindu town, XVII. 150.
Pattur, town in Bengal, XVH. 150.
Pau, in France, XVII. 150.
PAU—PEA
 , island, XVII. 150.
Paucartambo, XVII. 150.
Paukputtan, XVII. 150.
Paul (St), XVH. 150—the Clermont
Manuscript of his Epistles, VI. 743 
Lord Lyttleton on his conversion,
XIII. 616.
 , emperor of Russia, XIX. 554.
 (St), island, XVII. 156 ; IV. 217.
 , bishop of Narbonne, XVII. 156.
 (Father), XVII. 156—Amelot’s
French translation of his History of
the Council of Trent, II. 604.
Paul’s (St), cathedral in London, XIII.
518—its architecture, III. 429—dome
388, 389—dome-vaulting, 392—pro¬
tection from lightning, VI: 105 —
roof, XIX. 440-1, 454.
Paulee, Hindu fortress, XVII. 157.
Pauli (Simon), II. 698.
Paulianists, heretics, XVII. 158.
Paulxcians, XVII. 128.
Paulinus, bishop, XVII. 158.
— of Nola, XXL 648.
 (Suetonius), V. 299; XIX. 403.
Paulo (Marco), XVII. 158. See Polo.
 (San), in Brazil, XVII. 159.
Paulus iEgineta on surgery, XX. 825.
 -jEmilius, II. 172 ; VI. 198.
 Catena, V. 301.
Paunch of ruminants, III. 35.
Paunching of cattle, XXL 624.
Paungaow, XVII. 162.
Pauperism in Dumbartonshire, VIII.
260—Glasgow, X. 546 — Spain, XX.
522—United States, XXL 461—Wig-
tonshire, 883, See Mendicity, Poor-
Laws.
Pausania, Greek festival, XVII. 162.
Pausanias, Spartan king, XVII. 162;
IV. 161—clemency of, VI. 736.
 , ancient Greek antiquary, XVII.
162—his description of Athens, IV.
114, n. 1; 115.
Pause, or stop, XVII. 163.
Pausias, XVI. 699, 704.
Paussus, insect, IX. 176.
Pauw (Cornelius de), XVII. 163—on
ancient festivals, III. 257.
Pavan, Spanish dance, XVII. 163.
Pavia, in Italy, XVII. 163.
Pavia-tree, XVII. 787.
Pavilion, XVII. 163.
Paving, XVII. 164—with bricks and
tiles, V. 671—with stone, 676.
Pavo, constellation, XVII. 164.
 , bird, XVI. 606.
Pavonia, insect, IX. 242.
Payor, Roman deity, XVII. 164.
Paw, in the manege, XVII. 164.
Pawanghur, Hindu town, XVII. 164.
Pawn, or pledge, XVII. 164.
Pawnbrokers, origin of their sign of
three balls, III. 308.
Pawtucket, XIX. 223.
Paxilloma, insect, IX. 218.
Paxillus,-insect, IX. 162.
Paxo, island, XII. 341.
Paymaster-general of the British army,
III. 619.
Pays de Vaud, population of, XV. 515.
Paz (General), V. 660.
 (La), in Bolivia, XVII. 164.
Pea, evolution of the. III. 79—its inter¬
nal structure, 80—culture of peas, II.
283; XL 668.
Peace (Temple of), XVII. 165.
Peaches, culture of, XL 641, 658.
Peacock, XVI. 606.
 (Mr), his filter, IX. 581.
Peak ofDerbyshire, X VII.165; VII. 734.
Peak Forest Canal, XVI. 17.
Pear, ovulum in the, III. 100—culture
of, XI. 646—ripening of, XXL 584.
Pearce (Dr), bishop, XVII. 165.
  (Mr), notice of his' travels in
Abyssinia, II. 57.
Pearl, XVII. 166-of Japan, XII. 512
—specific gravity of, 34—production
of, XV. 373—artificial, XVII. 166—
mother-of-pearl, ib. ; XVI. 444.
Pearl-fishery of Bahrein, IV. 284—of
Ceylon, VI. 300 ; VIII. 60.
118
INDEX,
PEA—PEI
Veakl-Ash, XVII. 16G.
Pearl-divers, VIII. 60.
Pearl-sinter, XV. 157.
Pearls tone, XV. 157-sp.gr. of, XII. 31.
Pearl type, XXI. 436.
Pearsall (Mr), on the phosphorescent
effects of electricity, VIII. 635.
Pearson (John), bishop, XVII. 166.
  (Dr), on the micrometer, XV.
12, 14, 16, 18—on cow-pox, XXI. 534.
Pear-trees, XVII. 788—specific gravity
of wood of, XII. 34.
Peasant, XVII. 166.
Pease-bridge, IV. 599.
Peat, XVII. 166—Irish, XII. 391—spe¬
cific gravity of, 34. See Bogs.
Pebas, in Peru, XVII. 167.
Pebbles, XVII. 167.
Peccary, an animal, XIV. 150—struc¬
ture of, XVII. 707. *
Peche madame, fish, XII. 170.
Peck (Francis), XVII. 167.
Pecora, in zoology, XIV. 154.
Pecquet, physiological discoveries of, II.
698; XVII. 728.
Pecs, Hungarian city, XVII. 167.
Pecten, in conchology, XV. 343, 373.
Pectenidas, mollusca, XV. 367.
Pectic acid, VI. 430.
Pectinibranchia, mollusca, XV. 363.
Pectoral, XVII. 167.
Pectorales pediculati, in ichthyology,
XII. 194.
Pectunculus, in conchology, XV. 343.
Peculiar, XVII. 167.
Peculiars, Court of, XVII. 167.
Peculium, XVII. 168.
Pedagogue, XVII. 168.
Pedal, musical term, XVII. 168.
Pedalinese, in botany, V. 121.
Pedant, XVII. 168'.
Pedarian Senators, XVII. 168.
Pedatura, XVII. 168.
Peddabalabaram, XVII. 168.
Peddapore, XVII. 168.
Pedestal, in architecture, XVII. 168;
III. 469—in Italian architecture, 452.
Pedestrian feats, XI. 96. See Walking.
Pedetes, in zoology, XIV. 147.
PEDI.EAN, XVII. 168.
Pedicle, in botany, XVII. 168; V. 40.
Pediculus, insect, IX. 296.
Pediments, in architecture, III. 461, 469
—Doric, 438—Ionic, 440—Roman Co¬
rinthian, 449.
Pedir, in Sumatra, XVII. 168.
Pedometer, XVII. 168.
Pedra Blanca, XVII. 168.
Pedraza (General), XIV. 792.
Pedro (Dom), of Portugal, XVII. 168.
  (Dom), emperor of Brazil, II.
639 ; V. 196.
 the Cruel, XX. 497.
Pedum, in conchology, XV. 343.
Peduncle of flowers, III 95, 96 ; V. 40.
Peeblesshire, XVII. 169.
Peebles, Scottish town, XVII. 170.
Peek, XVII. 171.
Peel, town in the Isle of Man, XVII.
171; XIV. 209.
 (Sir R.), V. 569, et seq.—his mo¬
tion for financial reform, 572—on
the repeal of the test and corporation
acts, 573—his measure for Catholic
emancipation, 576.
Peelas Isles, XVII. 171.
Peers, XVII. 171—are hereditary coun¬
sellors of the crown, VII. 429—French
Chamber of Peers, X. 212—Scotch
peers, XIX. 766.
Peerage, English, IX. 12—rights of,
XVI. 235—opposition to the elevation
of Lord George Germaine to the peer¬
age, V. 419.
Peeress, XVII. 171.
Peergaum, XVII. 171.
Pegasus, XVII. 171—fish, XII. 227.
Pegau, in Saxony, XVII. 171.
Pegmares, XVII. 171.
Pegu, Asiatic country, XVII. 171—two
temples near Syrian in, VII. 695—
timber of, XXI. 299.
Peignot (G.), on prohibited books, IV.
PEI—PEN
628—his classification of books, 631
— his bibliographical works, 632.
Peiho, Chinese river, XVII. 173.
Peina, in Hanover, XVII. 173.
Peine Forte et Dure, XVII. 174.
Peinqhee, Burmese town, XVII. 174.
Peirce (James), XVII. 174.
Peiresc (Nicolas Claude Fabri), XVII.
174; II. 698; XI. 311.
Peisistratus. See Pisistratus.
Pekan, in zoology, XIV. 109.
Pekiangho, river, XVII. 175.
Peking, or Pekin, XVII. 175—the Pe¬
kin Gazette, VI. 552.
Pelagians, XVII. 176 ; XVIII. 515.
Pelagius, XVII. 176; XX. 87—his opi¬
nion of baptism, IV. 353.
 , in zoology, XIV. 124.
Pelaighe, Hindu town, XVII. 176.
Pelamys, fish, XII. 183.
Pelandah, Hindu village, XVII. 176.
Pelangy, river,'XVII. 176.
Pelargonium, XI. 686.
Pelasgi, XVII. 176, 394, 698; X. 620 ;
XIX. 360, 376—their architecture,
III. 413—alphabet, II. PI. XIX.
Pelat.*, in Athens, XVII. 179.
Pelates, fish, XII. 169.
Pelaudah, XVII. 179.
Pelayo, his wars with the Moors in
Spain, XX. 494.
Pelecanus, bird, XVI. 633.
Pelecinus, insect, IX. 218.
Pelecocera, insect, IX. 274.
Peleg, son of Eber, XVII. 179.
Pelethites, XVII. 179.
Peleus, XVII. 179.
Pelew Islands, or Palaos, XVII. 179 ;
XVIII. 318-19.
Pelham (Lord), on the peace of Amiens,
V. 507.
Pelias, XVII. 181.
Pelican, XVI. 633.
Pelicium, insect, IX. 128.
Pelicondah, Hindu town, XVII. 181.
Pelime, river, XVII. 181.
Peling, island, XVII. 181.
Pelion, mountain, XVII. 181.
Pelitarius, French mathematician, dis¬
coveries of, I. 442.
Pella, in Macedonia, XVII. 181.
Pelletier (Bertrand), XVII. 181.
Peltier (M.), on electricity, VIII. 575—
galvanic experiments of, XXI. 678—
on thermo-electricity, 699—his ther¬
mo-electric hygrometer, 700.
Pellew (Sir Edward)’s Group, on the
coast of New Holland, XVII. 182.
Pellicula of seeds, III. 73.
Pellisson Fontanier (Paul), French
writer, XVII. 182.
Pelocophorus, insect, IX. 145.
Pelocotoma, insect, IX. 168.
Pelopaeus, insect, IX. 229.
Pelopia, Elean festival, XVII. 182.
Pelopidas, XXL 195-8.
Peloponnesian war, IV. 155.
Peloponnesus, XVII. 182.
Pelops, XVII. 182.
Pelor, fish, XII. 174.
Pelta, XVII. 182.
Pel tastes, insect, IX. 222.
Pelusium, Egyptian city, XVII. 182.
Pelussin, French town, XVII. 182.
Pelvis, XVII. 615—regions of, II. 757—
bones of, 767—dimensions, &c., of,
768—of mammalia, HI. 7—of birds,
12—of reptiles, 15—of fishes, 17.
Pemba, island, XVII. 182.
Pemberton, in Lancashire, XVII. 182.
  (Dr), on latent disease of the
stomach, XVII. 480.
Pembroke, Welsh town, XVII. 182—
dock-yard at, VIII. 86.
Pembrokeshire, XVII. 182.
Pemgur, Hindu town, XVII. 184.
Pemnagur, Hindu town, XVII. 184.
Pemphedron, insect, IX. 230.
Pen, XVII. 184.
Penseaceee, in botany, V. 127.
Penapiel, Spanish town, XVII. 184.
Penal code, VIII. 404 ; XII. 639—Ben-
tham on, I. 377. See Punishment.
PEN
Penance, XVII. 184—among the Hin¬
dus, XI. 400 — Popish doctrine of,
XVIII. 405.
Penaranda, XVII. 184.
Penates, XVII. 184; XVIII. 335.
Pencil, XVII. 184.
Penclawdd canal, XVI. 17.
Penco, VI. 539.
Penda, king of Mercia, XIV. 590.
Pendant, XVII. 184.
Pendent, iq architecture, III. 469.
Pendleton, in Lancashire, XVII. 184.
Pendulum, XVII. 185; XIV. 351—dis¬
coveries of Galileo and others respect¬
ing the, I. 476-9—its slower vibra¬
tion at the equator, and explanation
by Newton and Huygens, 503—bal¬
listic, IV. 321 — Condamine on its
length at St Domingo, VII. 199 —
earth’s figure as determined by, IX.
572—Galileo on, X. 288 — Hooke’s
conical, XI. 555—oscillation of, XIV.
384—Watt’s conical, 419—influence
of the air on, XVIII. 95—centre of
oscillation, XIX. 497.
 of clock, VI. 767, 785—striking
regulated by, 781 — suspension and
length of, 785.
Penella, XVII. 218.
Penelope, XVII. 218.
 , bird, XVI. 605.
Penetrale, XVII. 218.
Penguin, XVI. 630.
 Island, XVII. 218.
Peniche, XVII. 218.
Penicillus, in conchology, XV. 349.
Penigk, in Saxony, XVII. 218.
Peninsula, XVII. 218 ; X. 407.
Peninsular war, V. 524, et seq.; X. 148,
et seq. — Wellington’s tactics, XXI.
739, e< seq.
Penis, XVII. 688—anatomy of, II. 824
—erectile tissue of, 725, 726.
Penisa, Spanish town, XVII. 218.
Peniscola, Spanish city, XVII. 218.
Penitence, XVII. 218—Order of Peni¬
tence of St Magdalen, ib.
Penitential, XVII. 218.
Penitentiary, XVII. 218, 219—Ameri¬
can penitentiaries, XVI. 193 ; XVIII.
583 —Richmond Penitentiary, VIII.
240—Bentham’s Panopticon, XII. 462.
Penjine, Russian river, XVII. 219.
Penkridge, XVII. 219.
Penman-Mawr, XVII. 219 ; V. 773.
Penn (William), XVII. 219, 225—Bi¬
shop Burnet’s character of, XIII. 412,
n.—on the character of George Fox,
XVIII. 766—on quakerism, ib., et seq.
Pennant (Thomas), XVII. 220—his his¬
tory of the English chase, VI. 333—
on the Hebrides, XI. 201—on the mi¬
gration of the herring, XII. 214—his
account of the Maiden, XIV. 41—on
ornithology, XVI. 549—his account
of Staffa, XX. 556.
Pennar, Hindu river, XVII. 220.
Pennatore, XVII. 220.
Penne, French city, XVII. 220.
Penneck (Dr), on the crank of steam-
engines, XX. 669.
Pennine Alps, II. 558.
Pennsylvania, XVII. 221—canals in,
XVI. 25 ; XXI. 471—settlement of,
XVII. 219—railroads in, XXI. 473—
state bonds of, 479.
Penny, English coin, XVII. 220.
Pennyweight, XVII. 221.
Penorcon, XVII. 221.
Penrith, XVII. 221.
Penryn, XVII. 221.
Fenrhyn (Port), V. 773.
Pensacola, IX. 627.
Pensionary, XVII. 225—Grand, ib.
Pensions, naval, XVI. 64.
Pentaceros, fish, XII. 169.
Pentachord, XVII. 226.
Pentacrinites, XXI. 1013.
Pentacrostic verse, XVII. 226.
Pentamera, insects, IX. 111.
Pentamerus, molluscum, XV. 344.
Pentameter Verse, XVII. 226.
Pentapolis, XVII. 226.
PEN—PER
Pentastoma, zoophyte, XXI. 997.
Pentateuch, XVII. 226—Samaritan,
363; VIII. 122.
Pentathlon, XVII. 226.
Pentatoma, insect, IX. 195.
Pentecontachordon, XVII. 226.
Pentecost, XVII. 226—Island, ib.
Penthesilea, XVII. 226.
Penthetria, insect, IX. 263.
Penthimia, insect, IX. 204.
Pentland Firth, XVII. 227.
 Hills, in Edinburghshire, VIII.
429— battle of, V. 349.
 (Mr), his account of the Andes,
II. 608 ; IV. 746.
Penula, XVII. 227.
Penultima, XVII. 227.
Penumbra, XVII. 227 ; IV. 7.
Penzance, XVII. 227.
Peor, mountain, XVII. 227.
Pepin, king of France, X. 7 ; XI. 493.
Peplus, XVII. 227.
Pepo, in botany, V. 49.
Pepong, islands, XVII. 227.
Pepper, XVII. 227, 748—of Cochin-
China, VII. 11—alkali in, VI. 469—
its culture in Sumatra, XX. 807—
Guinea-pepper, VI. 128—Jamaica-
pepper, XVII. 744.
Pepper Bay, XVII. 227.
Pepperberg, XVII. 227.
Pepsis, insect, IX. 229.
Pepys (Samuel), XVI. 40—his manage¬
ment of the navy, 42 ; VIII. 86.
Pepys’s spiral battery, XXI. 672.
Pera, island, XVII. 227.
Perambaucam, XVII. 227.
Perambulator, XVII. 227.
Perameles, in zoology, XIV. 127.
Peranezzi, engravings of, IX. 53.
Perea, fish, XII. 167—angling for Perea
fluviatilis, III. 148.
Perception, in mental philosophy,
XVII. 227 ; XIII. 433—dsfference be¬
tween it and emotion, I. 329—Aris¬
totle on, III. 507.
Perceval (Spencer), V. 522, 527.
Perch, measure, XVII. 227.
 , fish, XVII. 227—common, XII.
167—sea, ib.—black, 187—angling
for, III. 148.
Perching, mechanism of, III. 19.
 Birds, XVI. 567.
Perchloric acid, VI. 360.
Percidse, fishes, XII. 166—jugular, 170
—abdominal, 171.
Percis, fish, XII. 171.
Percival (Dr), on hunger, XI. 731—on
disease of the pancreas, XVII. 482.
Percolation, XVII. 227.
Pefcophis, fish, XII. 171.
Percussion, XVII. 227—heat from,
XI. 195—laws of, XIV. 351, 386-
centre of, XIX. 495.
Percussion-locks, XI. 38.
Percy (Bishop), on romance, XIX. 319
—on the minstrels, 322.
  (Henry), Hotspur, VIII. 730,
731.
 , earl of Northumberland, his
rebellion in Queen Elizabeth’s reign,
VIII. 757.
   Isles, XVII. 227.
Perdiccas I. and II., kings of Macedon,
XIII. 620—one of Alexander’s offi¬
cers, 640, et seq.
Perdix, bird, XVI. 611.
Pereaslawl, XVII. 227.
Perecline, a mineral, XV. 153.
Pereira (Gomez), on brutes, V. 613.
 (General), VII. 102.
Perekop, XVII. 228 ;. VII. 472.
Perennials, XVII. 228.
Pereslaw, Russian city, XVII. 228.
Perez de la Heata, XIX. 352.
Perfect, XVII. 228.
Perfection, XVII. 228.
Perfume, XVII. 228—perfumes of
Arabia, III. 325, 340.
Pergamo, Turkish town, XVII. 228.
Pergamus, in Asia, XVII. 228—library
of, XIII. 288.
Pergine, Austrian town, XVII. 231.
INDEX
119
PER
Periagoge, in rhetoric, XVII. 231.
PERIANDER, XVII. 231.
Perianthiom, XVII. 231; V. 39, 43.
J’ERIAPAXAM, XVII. 231.
Peribolus, in architecture, III. 4G9.
Pericarditis, XVII. 483, 489.
Pericardium, XVII. 231; II. 818.
Pericarp, in botany, XVII. 2315 III.
71, 98 ; V. 47.
Pericluetiuin, in botany, V. 55.
Perichorus, XVII. 231.
Pericles, XVII. 231; IV. 153, et scg.—
state of Athens in the age of, 115—
his encouragement of the theatre,
VIII. 146—his intellectual tastes,
XX. 452.
Pericorollse, in botany, V. 11G.
Peridot, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
See Chrysolite.
Perigee, in astronomy, XVII. 233.
Perigonium, in botany, V. 43.
Peeigrapiie, XVII. 233.
Perigueui, in France, XVII, 233.
Perigynous stamens and petals, V. 41.
Perihelicm, XVII. 233.
Perim, island, XVII. 233.
Perimeter, in geometry, XVII. 233.
Perinseum, muscles of the, II. 794.
Perinda, Hindu town, XVII. 233.
Peringary, Hindu town, XVII. 233.
Perinrapax, island, XVII. 233.
Period, in astronomy, &e., XVII. 233.
Periods, in chronology, XVII. 233 ;
VI. 653.
Periodic, or periodical, XVII. 234.
Perkecii, XVII. 234 ; X. 409.
Periophthalmus, fish, XII. 194.
Periosteum, II. 739 ; XVII. 601—in¬
ternal, ib.; II. 744—is the agent in
ossification, 745.
Peripatetics, XVII. 234, 431; III. 492.
Peripatio.v, XVII. 284.
Peripeteia, XVII. 234.
Periphery, XVII. 234.
Periphrasis, XVII. 234.
Periplus of Hanno, II. 219; X. 389 ;
XX. 211; VI. 52—of the Erythrcan
Sea, II. 220.
Peripneumony, XVII. 234.
Peripteros, in architecture, III.-469.
Perirphanterium, XVII. 234.
Periscii, XVII. 234; X. 409.
Periscopic microscope, XV. 33.
Periscus, V. 761.
Perisperm, in botany, V. 50.
Peristaltic motion, XVII. 234.
Peristamineoe, in botany, V. 125.
Peristedion, fish, XII. i73.
Peristyle, XVII. 234 ; III. 469.
Peritoneum, II. 754.
Peritonitis in cattle, XXI. 625.
Peritrochium, XVII. 234.
Periwinkle, XV. 373.
Perizonius (James), XVII. 235—Bur-
man’s attack on, V. 717.
Perizzites, XVII. 235.
Perjury, XVII. 234.
Perkins, his apparatus for boating by
water, XI. 655—on the compressibi¬
lity of water, XII, 10—Perkins’s me¬
tallic tractors, XIV. 4—Perkins and
Heath’s steel-engraving, IX. 54.
Perla, insect, IX. 214.
Perlieius, drososcope of, VII. 749.
Perlides, insects, IX. 214.
Perm, Russian town, XVII. 235.
Permacoil, XVII. 235.
Permeable, XVII. 235.
Pern a, in conehology, XV. 343.
Pernambuco, XVII. 236—settlement
of, V. 189—population of, 202—pro¬
ducts of, 207.
Pernicious Islands, XVII. 238.
Pernis, bird, XVI. 564.
Peron (11.), on sea-serpents, XX. 149.
Perones, shoes, XVII. 238.
Peronia, mollusca, XV. 358.
Peronne, in France, XVII. 238.
Peroration, XVII. 238; XIX. 213.
Perouse (J. F. G. de La), XIII. 97 ;
IV. 350; XVII. 336; XVIII. 323,785.
I’Rrfendicular, XVII. 238 ; X. 432,
436, 457.
PER
Perpetual motion, VI. 53 ; XVI. 529.
Perpignan, XVII. 238.
Perrault (Claude), XVII. 238—his
design for the Louvre, III. 427—de¬
finition of “ order of architecture,”
437—on the sound of bells, IV. 545.
 (Charles), XVII. 239.
Perring (Mr), his improvements in an¬
chor-making, III, 106.
Perron (A. H. Anquetil du), III. 236.
 (Jaques Davy du), XVII. 239
—his Table-Talk, II. 675.
Perronet (M.), centres constructed by,
VI. 284—his aqueduct at Paris, XXI.
790.
Perrott (Sir John), bis government of
Ireland, XII. 365.
Peuruke, or Periwig, XVII. 239.
Perry (Captain John), civil engineer,
XVII. 239.
 , liquor, XVII. 240 ; XI. 273.
Peusaim, XVII. 24 0 5 IV. 433.
Persaumah, XVII. 240.
Persecution, XVII. 240 ; XVIII. 12-
religious, XIII. 415 ; XXL 323—of
the French Protestants, VIII. 135—
in ancient Greece, XX. 447.
Persees, XVII. 240. See Parsees.
Persefield, scenery of, X. 341.
Persepolis, ruins of, III. 412, 472;
XVII. 255—inscriptions at, XII. 290
—taken by Alexander, XIII. 632.
Perses, XVII. 239.
Perseus, king of Macedon, XIII. 643.
Pershore, in Worcester, XVII. 240.
Persia, XVII. 241—the supposed hive
of the oriental nations, II. $23—con¬
quered by the Arabs, III. 343—an¬
cient architecture, 412—climate, 679
—horses, 683—notices of history, 689
—manufactures and commei-ce, 700—
calendar, VI. 6, 662—war with the
Romans, A.D. 359, VII. 276—invaded
by Julian, 277—Justinian’s war with,
281—geometers of, X. 428—conquered
by Alexander, XIII. 631, ef se#.—un¬
der the Moguls, XV. 317—Persian
monarchy, 381—empire, III. 685 ;
XI. 473—mythology, XV. 679—ar¬
chives, XVII. 38l—polytheism of
magi, XVIII. 331, 341—invaded by
the Romans, XIX. 411, 412, 414, 418
—weights and measures, XXI. 904—
map of, XVII. PI. CCCCV-2.
Persians, their manner of adoratioh, II.
161—belief in angels. III. 127—An¬
quetil du Perron’s collection of their
sacred writings, 237—Antioch destroy¬
ed by the, 253—ancient armies, 583
—character, 693—cultivation of as¬
tronomy, 735 — Persian Bibles, IV.
616—castes,VI. 221—stoves, 547—con¬
quest of Egypt. VIII. 468—language,
XIII. 82; XVII. 379-libraries, XIII.
287—invasion of the Roman empire,
XVI. 754—literature, XVII. 382—
sculpture, XX. 3—ihvasion of Greece,
525 ; IV. 149, et seq.
PersianVheel, XII. 102.
Persicariae, in botany, V. 126.
Persicus Sinus, XVII. 272.
Persio, VI. 484.
Persius Flaccus (Aulus), XVII. 272,
413—Sir W. Drummond’s translation
of, VIII. 214—poetry of, XVIII. 154.
Person, XVII. 272—in grammar, ib.;
X. 661, 683.
Personal, XVII. 272.
  Action, in law, XVII. 272.
 — Identity, XIV. 493, 679.
   Verb, XVII. 272.
Personality, XVII. 272.
Personate, in botany, V. 42.
PERSONiFYiNG.or Personification,XVII.
272 ; XV. 675.
Persoon, botanist, V. 80.
Perspective, XVII. 273—history of,
XIII. 329—among the ancients* XVl.
629—aerial, XVII. 286 — bird’s eye
view in, ib.
Perspicuity of style, Aristotle on, III.
517.
Perspiration, XVII. 649, 655—effects of
PER—PET
electricity on, VIII. 640—obstructed
by damp clothes, IX. 432—of plants,
XXI. 574.
Perth, Scotch town, XVII. 286.
Perthshire, XVII. 289.
Pertinax, Roman emperor, XVII. 291
—reign of, XIX. 409.
Perturbations, planetary, III. 749; IV.
23.
Pertus, French city, XVII. 292.
Peru, XVII. 292 ; II. 643—climate,
610, 612—ancient civilization, 624—
revolution, 639—suspension-bridges,
III. 118—expedition of the hucaneers
against, V. 625—trade with Buenos
Ayres, 649—castes, VI. 221—invasion
of Chili, 539—French trade, X. 191—
incas, XII. 256—mines, XV. 264—
mythology, 083—heights of moun¬
tains, XVII. 505—earthquakes, 511
—peopling of, 555—weights and mea¬
sures of, XXI. 855—map of, VII. PI.
CLXXVL2. See Almagro, Bolivar,
Colombia, Peruvians.
Perugia, in Italy, XVII. 308.
Perura, Hindu temple at, VII. 30.
Perussi on perspective, XVII. 273.
Peruvian hark, specific gravity of, XII.
34. See Cinchona.
Peruviana, XVII. 308.
Peruvians, skulls of, II. 616—compared
with the Chinese, 626—language of,
628—appearance and character of, ib.
—Indians of Bolivia, IV. 752, 754—
their tradition of the Deluge, Vtl.
699. See Peru.
Peruwells, in Belgium, XVII. 308.
Peruzzi, architect, III. 426.
Perwuttun, Hindu village, XVII. 308.
Pesano, Sardinian city, XVII. 308.
Pesaro, Italian city, XVll. 308, 4.
Pesce (Nicolo), Sicilian diver, VIII, 60.
Pescia, Italian city, XVII. 308.
Pescina, Italian city, XVII. 309.
Peshawur, XVII. 309.
Pesth, XVII. <)09—fairs of, XL 726.
Pet and Jackman, exploratory voyage
of, XVIII. 217.
Petals of plants, III. 96 ; V. 42 XXI.
583.
Petalism, XVII. 309.
Petalite, XV. 152—sp. gr, of, XII. 34.
Petalnaig, Hindu town, XVll. 309.
Petalocheirus, insect, IX. 197.
Petaree, Hindu village, XVII. 309.
Petau (Denis), XVII. 309.
Petaurus, in zoology, XIV. 128.
Petchelee, in China, XVII. 310.
Petchora, river, XIX. 565.
Peter, Apostle, XVII. 310.
  (St), and St Paul, in Kamts-
chatka, XII. 674—tidesat, XXI. 281.
 of Blois, XVll. 312.
 I., Russian emperor, XVII. 313
—his tax on beards, IV. 473—reign
Of, XIX. 541. See Czar.
 II., reign of, XIX. 546.
 III., VI. 244 ; XIX. 54&.
 the Hermit, VII. 484.
• thq wild boy, XVII. 313,
Peter’s (St), church of, at Rome, VI. 284;
XV. 6; XIX. 431.
 (St), New Brunswick, XVI. 148.
 Pence, XVII. 314.
Peterborough, XVII. 314.
  (Earl of), his expedition to
Spain, V. 370.
Peterhead, XVII. 314.
Peters (Col.), on horsemanship, XI. 608.
 le Pout, XVll. 323.
Petersburg (St), XVII. 315—Royal
Academy of Sciences, II. 71—Aca¬
demy of Arts, 73 ; of Languages, 77
— architecture of public buildings,
III. 428—port and trade, IV. 330—
Bible Society, 620—sea-walls, VIII.
678—libraties,XIII. 315, 310.
Petersfield, XVll. 323.
Peterswaldau, XVII. 323.
Petekwardein, XVII. 323.
Peterwaradin, battle of, IX. 396.
Petherton, XVII. 323.
Petic, Mexican town, XIV. 818,
PET—PHA
Petiole, III. 93 ; V. 34.
Petion, governor of Hayti, VIII. 106.
Petit (John), XVII. 32 3.
 (Samuel), XI. 312.
 on the pyrometer, XVIII. 749,
et seq.—his surgical improvements,
XX. 829.
Petitio Principii, XVII. 323.
Petiver (James), XVII. 324.
Petiveriae, in botany, V. 125.
Petlad, Hindu town, XVII. 324.
Petlahwad, XVII. 324.
Petra, III. 340.
Petneus (Theodore), XI. 312.
Petrarch (Francis), XVII. 324—on
the blunders of transcribers, IV. 022
—his kind offices to Boccaccio, V. 723
—his poetry, XVIII. 144, 158.
Petrel, bird, XVI. 631.
 Island, XVII. 331.
Petricola, in conchology, XV. 342.
Petrifaction, XVll. 331.
Petrobrussians, XVII. 332.
Petrojoannites, XVII. 332.
Petroleum, XVII. 332, 243; VI. 443 ;
XV. 172—found in Ava, IV. 241 —
specific gravity of, XII. 34—used for
lamps, XIII. 41.
Petromyzon, fish, XII. 236.
Petronius Arbiter (C.), XVII. 332—
Burman’s edition of, V. 717.
Petropauloskaia, XVII. 333.
Petropauldfsk,in Kamtschatka, XII. 674
—tides at, XXL 281.
Petrosowodsk, XVII. 333.
Petschanoi, XVII. 333.
Petschora, river, XXI. 914.
Pett (Phineas), XVI. 41 ; XX. 222.
 (Peter), XX. 222.
—  (Mr), the old Sovereign of the
Seas man-of-war built by, VIII. 230.
Petteia, in music, XYII. 333.
Pettipore, Hindu town, XVII. 333.
Petty (Sir William), XVII. 333—on
political economy, XVIII. 265, 298, n.
 (Lord H.), on finance, V. 521.
Pettychap, bird, XVI. 576.
Pettycotta, XVII. 335.
Petunze, crystallization of, VII. 519.
Petworth, in Sussex, XVII, 335.
Peutingerian Table, X. 391.
Pewsey, in Wilts, XVII. 335.
Pewsum, in Hanover, XVII. 335.
Pewter, XVII. 335.
Peyaung, Hindu town, XVII. 336.
Peyer (Conrad), anatomist, II. 700.
Peyerian glands, II. 816.
Peyrard’s burning-mirrors,V. 732.
Peyrere (Isaac La), XVII. 336,
Peyron (Professor), his discovery of part
of the Theodosian Code, VI. 715.
Peyrouse, See Perouse.
Peyrusse, French city, XVII. 336.
Peysonell (Dr), on sponges, XX. 547.
Peytahn, XVII. 336.
Peyton (Henry), XI. 749.
Pezay (N. M., Marquis de), XVII, 336.
Pezenas, trench city, XVII. 337.
Pezoporus, bird, XVI. 603.
Pezron on the Titans, XXI. 317.
Pfister (Albert), printer, XV111. 548.
Pfkow, in Russia, XVII. 337.
Phacochoerus, in zoology, XIV. 149,
Phaeacia, XII. 341.
Ph*do of Elis, XVII. 337.
Phaedon, insect, IX. 184.
Phaedra, XVII. 337.
Ph/edrcs, XVII. 337 — Cunninghairi’s
and Clerk’s editions of, VII. 547,
Phsenogamous plants, V. 53.
Phenomenon, XVII. 337.
Phaeton, XVII. 338—bird, XVI. 6 5;
Phak, Afghan district, XVII. 338.
Phalacrocorax, bird, XVI. 633.
Phalacrus, insect, IX. 185.
Phalsena, insect, IX. 250—paphia, XX.
352—cynthia, ib.
Phalaenites, insects, IX. 250.
Phalangers, in zoology, XIV. 128.
Phalanges of the fingers, II. 788 —of the
toes, 791, 792—in the mammalia, 11L
9—in reptiles, 15.
Pbalangista, in zoology, XIV. 127,
3
120
INDEX,
PHA—PHI
Phalangium, arachnides, III. 337.
Phalanx, XVII. 338—Spartan, III. 585
— Athenian, ib. — Macedonian, 586;
XIII. 622, 643.
Phalakis, XVII. 338—controversy about
the Epistles of, IV. 140, 075.
Phalarope, bird, XVI. 624.
Phalee^e, XVII. 338.
Phaleris, bird, XVI. 630.
Phalerum, IV. 126.
Pualeucian Verse, XVII. 338.
Phallusia, mollusca, XV. 370.
Phanaeus, insect, IX. 154.
Phanerogamous plants, V. 53.
Phanes of Halicarnassus, VIII. 468.
Phania, insect, IX. 282.
Phantasia, XVII. 338.
Phantasm, XVII. 338. See Idea.
Phantasmagoric apparatus, XVI. 514.
Phantasy, or Fancy, XVII. 338.
Phanoel, XVII. 338.
Phaon, XVII. 338.
Pharamond, XVII. 339 ; X. 2.
Pharaoh, XVII. 339, 378; XI. 351, n.l.
See Egypt.
Pharaoh-Hophra, VIII. 4 67.
Pharaoh-Necho, VIII. 467.
Pharaon, or Pharo, XVII. 340.
Pharisees, XVII. 340.
Pharmaci, XVII. 341.
Pharmaceutical, XVII. 341.
Pharmacochemia, XVII. 311.
Pharmacolite, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pharmacopoeia, XVII. 341.
Pharmacopola, XVII. 341.
Pharmacum, XVII. 341.
Pharmacy, XVII. 341; XIV. 523-cha¬
racters of abbreviations in, VI. 323.
Pharnaces, XVIII. 349, 359.
Pharos, XVII. 341 ; II. 409 ; XX. 15.
Pharsalia, in Thessaly, XVII. 341 —
battle of, XIX. 397.
Pharynx, muscles of the, II. 794—ana
tomy of the, 814.
Phasaelis, XII. 571.
Phaseogale, in zoology, XIV. 127.
Phascolome, structure of, XVII. 705.
Phases, in astronomy, XVII. 341.
Phasia, insect, IX. 281.
Phasianella, in conchology, XV. 34 7.
Phasianus, bird, XVI. 608.
Phasingars, XI. 397.
Phasma, insect, IX. 191.
Phazania Regio, IX. 533.
Pheasant, XVI. 610.
Pheasant-shooting, XX. 313,
Phebe, XVII. 341.
Phefel (M.), blind poet, IV. 701.
Phenakistiscope, XVI. 512; XVII. 671.
Phengites, XVII. 341.
Phenicin, VI. 488 ; VIII. 325.
Phenomenon, XVII. 337.
Phenomenology, XVII. 438.
Pheons, in heraldry, XVII. 341.
Pherecrates, XVII. 341.
Puerecydes, philosopher, XVII. 342.
 , historian, XVII. 342.
Pheretima, VII. 576.
Pheron, XI. 324.
Phibalura, bird, XXI. 571.
Phidias, XVII. 342, 232 ; XVI. 701,
728—works of, XX. 6.
Phiditia, XVII. 342.
Phila, XVII. 342.
Philadelphese, in,botany, V, 109.
Philadelphia, games, XVII. 342.
 , American city, XVII. 342—mor¬
tality in, XV. 522 — book-trade of,
XVII. 223—penitentiary at, XVIII.
583, 587.
 , in Asia Minor, XVII. 342.
Philadelphian Society, XVII. 344.
Philadelpuus, XVII. 344.
Philae, antiquities in, VIII. 530.
Philseni, XVII. 344 ; VI. 184.
Philanthropenus, VII. 288.
Philanthropy, XVII. 344.
Philanthus, insect, IX. 230.
Philedon, bird, XVI. 573.
Philemon, XVII. 314.
Phileremus, insect, IX. 234.
Philetas, Greek poet, XVII. 345.
Philenrus, insect, IX. 156.
PHI—PHO
Philibeg, XVII. 345.
Philip, apostle, XVII. 345.
 , kings of France, X. 12, et seq.
 II., of Spain, his policy towards
the Netherlands, XI. 510—Portugal
conquered "by, XVIII. 468—reign of,
XX. 501—character of, 503.
 III., reign of, XX. 503.
 IV., reign of, XX. 503.
 V., reign of, XX. 504.
 of Macedon, XIII. 621, et seq.—
his military talents and army, III. 586
—his character, XIII. 629.
 II., of Naples, XVII. 345.
 •, Roman emperor, XIX. 411.
 , tetrarch, XII. 573.
 the Fair, his prosecution of the
Templars, XXI. 174.
 (Capt.), governor of New South
Wales, XXI. 712.
  (Dr Wilson), on sensorial and
nervous powers, XVII. 679, 680.
 (Port), XVII. 347; XXI. 722.
  Island, XVII. 347.
 Islands, XVII. 347.
Philiphaugh, battle of, V. 328.
Philippi, in Macedonia, XVII. 347 —
battle of, XIX. 399.
Philippics, XVII. 347.
Philippine Islands, XVII. 347—Bri¬
tish expedition against, in 1762, V.
387—language of, XIII. 92—serpents
of, XX. 137—weights and measures of,
XXI. 855.
Piiilippists, XVII. 349.
Philippopel, river, XVII. 349.
Philipps (Mr), of Ely, on the culture of
the osier, IV. 429,
Philips (Ambrose), poet, XVII. 350—
his quarrel with Pope, XVIII. 399.
   (Catherine), XVII. 350.
 (John), poet, XVII. 350.
  (Fabian), XVII. 349.
Philipstown, XII. 728.
Philistines, XVII. 350.
Philistus, historian, XVII. 352.
Phillips (John), of York, description of
his electrophorus, VIII. 644.
Philo ofAlexandria, XVII.352;XII. 573.
 of Byblos, XVII. 353.
 of Byzantium, XVII. 353.
Philochorus, antiquary, XII. 291.
Philodemus, XI. 264, 269.
Philodotus, insect, IX. 162.
Philodromus, arachnides, III. 362.
Piiilolaus of Crotona, XVII. 353; X.
423—astronomy of, III. 728.
Philology, XVII. 354—progress of the
Latin language, XII. 292 — Portu¬
guese language, XVIII. 482. See
Grammar, Language, Latin, &c.
Philomathes, XVII. 424.
Philomela, XVII. 424.
Philopiemen, Greek general, XVII. 424
—military skill of, III. 589.
Philoprogenitiveness, XVII. 462.
Philosopher, XVII. 425.
Philosopher’s stone, XVII. 425; VI.
344.
Philosophy, XVII. 426 —Aristotle’s,
III. 494—state of, before his time, ib.
—requisites of a good history of, V.
610—utility of a life devoted to, XX.
453. See Cartesian, Experimental,
Mechanical, Mental, Moral, Natural,
Newtonian Philosophy'.
Philostratus (Flavius), XVII. 446.
Philoxenus, Greek poet, XVII. 447.
Philtre, XVII. 447 ; XIII. 578.
Philyra, XVII. 447.
PhineiiAs, XVII. 447.
Phipps (Wm.), diving feats of, VIII. 64.
   (Capt. J. C.), arctic voyage of,
XVI. 82 ; XVIII. 219.
Phlebotomy, XVII. 448; XX. 840—
now more rarely employed than for¬
merly', 840.
Phlegmatic temperament, XVII. 696;
XXI. 173.
Piilegon, historian, XVII. 448.
Phlogiston, in chemistry, XVII. 448 ;
VI. 262, 348, 351.
Phoca, in zoology, XIV. 123.
PHO—PHR
PliociEA, Ionian city, XVII. 449.
Phocaena, in zoology, XIV. 177.
Phocas, Greek general, XIX. 528.
Phocenic acid, VI. 430.
Phocenine, VI. 443.
Phocion, Athenian general, XVII. 449.
Phocis, in Greece, XVII. 450; X. 723
—Phocian war, XIII. 626.
Pnocylides, poet, XVII. 450.
Pikebus, XVII. 450. See Apollo.
Phoenicia, XVII. 450—architecture of,
III. 412—astronomy,723—commerce,
VII. 155 ; with Britain, V. 297 —
Sanchoniatho’s History of, VII. 540
—dyeing, VIII. 295—alphabet, II.
546 ; XVII. 366, 395-language, XIII.
83; XVII. 374, 378, 415, 422—navi¬
gation, X. 388 ; XV. 745—mythology,
681—art, XVI. 695—early science,
XVII. 428—sculpture, XX. 3. See
Sidon, Tyre.
| Phcenicopha3us, bird, XVI. 598.
Phcenicopterus, bird, XVI. 628.
Phcenix, XVII. 452.
 Park, Dublin, VIII. 248.
Pholas, in conchology, XV. 340.
Pholcus, arachnides, III. 360.
Pholierus, insect, IX. 155.
Pholis, XVII. 452.
Phonics. See Acoustics.
Phora, insect, IX. 292.
Phoranth, in botany, V. 40.
Phorminx, XVII. 453.
Phormium tenax, XXI. 823, 720.
Phornutus, XIX. 780.
Phosphatic acid, VI. 380.
Phosphorescence of the sea, XVII. 518
—Becquerel’s explanation of the phe¬
nomena of, XXI. 680.
Phosphorescent bodies, XIII. 336, 594
—spiders’ eyes, III. 358, n.—Canton’s
phosphorus, VI. 105—certain Crusta¬
cea, VII. 499—glow-worm, IX. 141—
new flannels, 615—medusides, XXI.
1015,1016—Is the moon phosphores¬
cent? IV. 3 — or the upper atmos¬
phere? XIV. 720—effects of electri¬
city on, VIII. 633.
Phosphoric acid, VI. 380.
Phosphorite, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Phosphorous acid, VI. 380.
Phosphorus, XVII. 453; VI. 379—how
to inflame it by electricity, VIII. 626
—specific gravity of, XII. 34 — its
poisonous quality, XIV. 503—phos¬
phorus-electrometer, VIII. 659.
Phosphuret of aluminum, VI. 399 —
arsenic, VI. 384 — cadmium, 411—
calcium, 397—carbon, 382—cerium,
400 — chromium, 387 — cobalt, 410
—copper, 415—glucinum, 399—gold,
421—iron, 405—lead, 412—nickel, 409
—platinum, 422 —potassium, 394—
silver, 419—thorium, 402—tin, 414
—titanium, 392—yttrium, 400.
Phosphuretted hydrogen, VI. 381.
Photinians, heretics, XVII. 453.
Photinx, XVII. 453.
Photius, XVII. 453; XIII. 292.
Photometer, XVII. 453 ; VI. 757;
XIII. 335 ; XIV. 738.
Photometry, first notions of, I. 637—
advanced by Bouguer, 638—Lambert’s
treatise on, ib.
Phoxichilus, arachnides, III. 366.
Phoxinus, angling for, III. 147.
Phraortes, XIV. 489 ; XVII. 259.
Phrase, XVII. 453.
Phraseology, XVII. 453.
Phre, Egyptian deity, VIII. 552.
Phreatis, XVII. 453.
Phrenic nerve, II. 813.
Phrenitic persons, XVII. 453.
Phrenitis in animals, XXI. 633.
Phrenology, XVII. 454 ; XX. 551—
origin of, X. 296.
Phrygania, insect, IX. 214—its use in
angling, III. 135.
Phrygia, in Asia, XVII. 474.
Phrygian language, XIII. 84.
Phrygians, Christian sect, XVII. 475.
Phryne, courtezan, XVII. 475.
Purynichvs, tragic poet, XVII. 475.
PHR—PHY
Phrynichus, comic poet, XVII. 475
 Arrhabius, XVII. 475.
Phrynicus, IV. 159.
Phrynus, arachnides. III. 364.
Phryxus, XVII. 475.
Phtha, Egyptian deity, VIII. 552.
Phthiria, insect, IX. 267.
Phthisis, or pulmonary consumption,
case of its cure by riding, XL 60S—
Dr Rush on, XIX. 523—in the domes¬
tic animals, XXI. 631.
Phugwana, XVII. 475.
Phycis, tish, XII. 219.
 , insect, IX. 252.
Phylactery, XVII. 475-6.
Phyllidia, mollusca, XV. 361.
Phyllis, XVII. 476.
Phyllium, insect, IX. 191.
Phyllobius, insect, IX. 173.
Phyllocharis, insect, IX. 183.
Phyllodoce, worm, XI. 220.
Phyllopa, Crustacea, VII. 503.
Phyllopertha, insect, IX. 159.
Phyllophagi, insects, IX. 157.
Phyllostoma, mammalia, XIV. 100.
Phyllurus, reptile, XIX. 148.
Physa, mollusca, XV. 346, 358.
Physaloptera, zoophytes, XXL 998.
Physalus, zoophyte, XXI. 1018.
Physcon, king of Egypt, VIII. 4 72—his
cruelties at Alexandria, II. 410.
Physharmonica, XVII. 476.
Physic, distinguished from surgery,
XIV. 526. See Medicine.
 (Practice of), XVII. 476.
Physical Education, VIII. 440.
 Geography, XVII. 498—the
Alps, II. 558—snow-line, 560 ; V.
145—glaciers, II. 560—climate of
America, II. 610, ef seq.; Arabia, III.
324 ; Asia, 672—distribution of fo¬
rests, II. 611; of plants, XVII. 545;
of animals, 549; HI. 161 ; II. 652; of
insects, IX. 97 ; of fishes, XII. 237; of
serpents, XX. 133—greater warmth
of northern than of southern ocean,
II. 612—modifying influence of cli¬
mate, &c., on animals. III. 160, 161,
169—influence of the ocean on cli¬
mate, 679—oceanic currents, VII.
552—physical geography of Egypt,
VIII. 507—natural variations of tem¬
perature, XI. 196. See Climate,
Cloud, Cold, Complexion, Evapora¬
tion, Mountains, Ocean, River, and
the geographical articles generally.
Physicians, Chinese, VI. 576—naval,
XVI. 53—Dublin College of, VIII.
242—Edinburgh College of, VII. 69
London College of, ib. ; XIII. 517—
diseases of, XIV. 509—conduct of
patients towards, XVII. 4 94—utility
of natural philosophy to, 574—are not
unproductive labourers, XVIII. 305.
Physics, XVII. 558—different meanings
of the word, I. 9, 10—should be con¬
fined to the phenomena of matter, 10
—ancient physics, 449, 452—modem
physics, 453—Aristotle on, III. 499.
See Astronomy, Mechanics, Optics,
Dynamics, Hydrostatics, Hydrodyna¬
mics, Pneumatics, Acoustics, Mag¬
netism, Mechanics, Dynamics, Elec¬
tricity, Heat, &c.
Physiognomy, XVII. 575—attended to
by the Greeks, XX. 444.
Physiology, XVII. 577 — sense in
which Dr Campbell employs the
W’ord, I. 9—province of, II. 685—
breeding in-and-in, 331—crossing of
breeds, ib., 336—Bavthez on, IV. 419
—irritability, XII. 456—considered in
relation to medicine, XIV. 515—vital
functions, XVII. 130—properties of
the muscles, 132. See Animal King¬
dom, Dietetics, Vegetable Physiology,
Blood, Digestion, &c.
Physogrades, zoophytes, XXI. 1017.
Physsophora, zoophyte, XXI. 1018.
Phytography, V. 58.
Phytolacca dioeca, V. 640.
Phytolaccacese, in botany, V. 125.
Phytology, XVII. 733.
INDEX
121
PHY—PIG
Phytomyza, insect, IX. 291.
Piabucus, fish, XII. 212.
Piahau, bird, XVI. 570.
Pialapore, Hindu town, XVII. 733.
PiAtffY, Hindu town, XVIL 733.
Pia Mater, cerebral membrane, XVII.
733 ; II. 811; III. 32.
Piacenza, in Italy, XVII. 735.
Piaggi (Antonio), XI. 263.
Piano-Forte, XVII. 733 ; XV. Oil.
Pias, Turkish town, XVII. 733.
PlASANSKOI, XVII. 733.
Piastcs, XVII. 733.
PlATNITZKA, XVII. 731.
Piauhy, in Brazil, XVII. 734.
Piazenza, in Italy, XVII. 735.
Piazida, Russian river, XVII. 7 35.
Piazinskoi, Russian lake, XVII. 735.
Piazza, XVII. 735.
Piazzi of Palermo, III. 747;—astrono¬
mical labours of, 748 ; IV. 29.
Pibroch, XVII. 735.
Pic de L’Etoile (Le), island in the
Pacific Ocean, XVII. 735.
Pica, XVII. 735.
 or Picus (John), XVII. 735.
  type, XXI. 435—small, 436.
 , bird, XVI. 584.
Picard (John), XVII. 737—measure¬
ment of an arc of the meridian by, I.
502; IX. 547—on the earth’s annual
motion, II. 32—his astronomical la¬
bours, III. 742.
Picards, religious sect, XVII. 737.
Piccini on harmony, XV. 634.
Piccolo mini (Alexander), XVII. 73S.
 (Francis), XVII. 738.
 (James), XVII. 738.
Pichegru (General), V. 475 ; X. 87, et
seq., 129—death of, 131.
Picher-Grandchamp, on animal magne¬
tism, XIV. 13.
Pichidungue, bay of, VI. 539.
Pickering, in Yorkshire, XVII. 738.
Picket, XVII. 738—Pickets, ib.
Pickles, making of, IX. 734.
Pico, island, XVII. 738 ; IV. 263.
Picoides, bird, XVI. 597.
Picques (Louis), on the Coptic lan¬
guage, XI. 313.
Picromel, VI. 496.
Picrotoxin, VI. 466.
Pictet (Benedict), XVII. 738.
 (Monsieur), his experiments on
the reflection of cold, VII. 58.
Pictou, in Nova Scotia, XVI. 286.
Picts, XVII. 738 ; VI. 2 ; IX. 42 ; XIX.
697—their wars with the Romans, V.
301—Picts’ Wall, XVII. 740.
Picture, XVII. 740. See Painting.
Picture-writing, Mexican, II. 623, 634.
Picturesque, XVII. 740 ; IV. 500—in
gardening, X. 335.
Picumnus, Roman deity, XVII. 740.
 , bird, XVI. 597.
Picus, bird, XVI. 594.
Piedmont, XVII. 740—cotton-manu¬
facture of, VII. 420—revolution in,
XII. 480—coins of, XV. 408, 410—
military character of the Piedmontese,
III. 612.
Piedmonte, Italian town, XVII. 741.
Pier, XVII. 741.
■ in architecture, III. 469—equi¬
librium of piers, XIV. 395—construc¬
tion of, 399.
Piercy Island, XVII. 741.
Pierhead, promontory, XVII. 741.
PlERIDES, XVII. 741.
Pierino del Vaga, XVII. 741.
Pieris, insect, IX. 241.
Pierius on hieroglyphics, XI. 300.
Pierre (St), in Martinique, XIV. 266.
Pietists, German sect, XVII. 741.
Pietra Mala, a market-town in Tus¬
cany, XVII. 741.
Pietra Percia, XVII. 741.
Pietri de Fusi, XVII. 741.
Pietro of Cortona, painter, XVI. 720.
Piety, XVII. 741; XV. 466.
Pigeaire, a somnambulist, XX. 477.
Pigeon, XVI. 612—rock, 613—wood, ib
caruncuiated, 614—great-crowned
PIG—PIN
ib.—hackled, ib.—Nicobar, ib.—para¬
bolic, ib.—passenger, ib.—carrier, VI.
176—a nuisance to the farmer, II. 340
—wood-pigeon shooting, XX. 307.
Pigeon Island, XVII. 741.
Pig-iron, VI. 402. See Smelting.
Pigments. See Colours.
Pigmentum nigrum of the eye, II. 798.
Pigot (Lord), XI. 423.
 (Edward), his method of finding
longitude, XIII. 563.
Pigrai, French surgeon, XX. 829.
Pigs, fed by the farmer without expense,
II. 272—breeds and management of,
337. See Swine.
Pika, in zoology, XIV. 140.
Pike,fish, XII. 200—angling for, III.144.
 (Major), his account of Durango,
VIII. 287.
Pilasters, in architecture, III. 452, 461,
469—in joinery, V. 689.
Pilate (Pontius), XVII. 741—his al¬
leged letter to Tiberius, XII. 561.
Pilatre de Rozier (Francis), XVII.
742; II. 186-8—death of, 190.
Pilchard, XII. 215 ; IX. 592.
Pilchard-fishery, IX. 603—in the Baltic,
IV. 326 ; Cornwall, VII. 368; Eng¬
land, VIII. 769.
Pilcomayo, river, XVII. 63.
Pile, XVII. 743 — in heraldry, ib.;
XI. 251—funeral-pile, XVII. 743—
pile-engine, ib.; XIV. 458.
   (electric), its effects and pro¬
perties, XXI. 673.
Piles (M. de), his account of a blind
portrait-painter, IV. 702.
Pileus, XVII. 743.
Pilgrim, XVIL 743.
Pilgrimage, XVII. 743—to Mecca and
Medina, III. 338-340; XIV. 38—pil¬
grimages of the Hindus, XI. 400.
PlLKALLEN, XVII. 743.
Pilkington, in Lancashire, XVII. 743.
 (Lastitia), XVII. 743.
Pillar (Cape), XVII. 743.
Pillars, XVII. 743 ; III. 469. See
Column, Towers (Round).
Pillar-Saints, XI. 495; XX. 785.
Pillau, XVII. 744 ; IV. 330.
Pillere, Hindu town, XVIL 744.
Pillibeet, Hindu town, XVII. 744.
Pillory, XVII. 744.
Pillowed, in architecture, III. 469.
Pilnitz, treaty of, V. 461; X. 61.
Pilori, in zoology, XIV. 133.
Pilot, XVII. 744.
Pilot-fish, XII. 185.
Pilsen, Bohemian city, XVII. 744.
Pilum, XVII. 744.
Pilwara, Hindu town, XVII. 744.
Pimelepterus, fish, XII. 179.
Pimelia, insect, IX. 163.
Pimeliariae, insects, IX. 163.
Pimelodi, fish, XII. 202.
Pimento, XVII. 744.
Pimpla, insect, IX. 223.
Pin, XVII. 744.
Pinacia, XVII. 745.
Pinagra, Indian town, XVII. 745.
Pinaster, XVII. 782.
Pinchbeck, XVII. 745.
Pincheyras, VI. 544.
Pinchinin, Algerine admiral, II. 507.
Pincian Hill, XIX. 424.
Pinqon (Vincent Yanez), the discoverer
of Brazil, V. 188.
Pindar, Greek lyric poet, XVII. 745 —
works of, XVIII. 151.
—: , river, XVII. 746.
Pindaree war, XI. 437.
Pindtaruk, XVII. 746.
Pindus, X. 722 ; XXL 418.
Pine’s edition of Horace, IV. 623.
Pine-apple, culture of, XI. 660.
Pine-trees, XVII. 746, 779, 781, 785-
culture of, 792—vessels of the bark
of. III. 52.
Pine-timber, XXI. 295—measurement
of, 298—weight of seasoned and un-
| seasoned, 308, 309.
j Pineal gland, II. 809.
I Pineda (John), historian, XVII. 746.
PIN—PIS
Pinel (Hons.), on the connection of in¬
sanity with liability to see appari¬
tions, III. 306—his manner of treat¬
ing insanity, XIV. 587—on mania,
XVII. 488.
PlNEROLO, XVII. 746.
Pines (Island of), XVII. 746.
Pinet (Antony du), XVII. 746.
Ping-Liang, XVII. 746.
Pinglo, Chinese city, XVII. 746.
Pinguipes, fish, XII. 171.
Pinie acid, VI. 430.
Pinion, in mechanics, XVII. 746.
Finite, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pink, dyeing of, VIII. 341.
Pinks, culture of, XI. 685.
Pinkerton on Barbour’s Bmce, IV. 371
—on Dunbar’s poetry, VIII. 271, 274
—on the Scottish language, IX. 43—
on the feudal system, 522 — on the
Goths, X. 618—on medals, XIV. 463,
et seq.—on Scottish coins, XV. 400—
on the Pelasgians, XVII. 177—on the
Scythians, XX. 14.
Pinkey, battle of, XIX. 732.
Pinna, in conchology, XV. 344.
Pinnace, XVII. 746 ; IV. 722.
Pinnacle, XVII. 746 ; III. 469.
Pinning, in carpentry, V. 684.
Pinnipedia, in zoology, XIV. 105.
Pinnotheres, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Pinophilus, insect, IX. 137.
Pinos, island, XVII. 746.
Pinsk, Russian city, XVII. 746.
Pin-tail, bird, XVI. 638.
Pinto (General), VI. 543.
Pin tor (Peter), XVII. 746.
Pinus. See Pine-trees.
Piombino, in Italy, XVII. 748.
Pioneers, XVII. 748.
Piophila, insect, IX. 287.
Piorry on stomach-diseases, XVII. 483.
Piove di Sacco, XVII. 748.
Pip, or Pep, XVII. 748.
Pipa, reptile, XIX. 158.
Pipe, XVII. 748.
Pipes, XVII. 748 — transmission of
sound through, II. Ill—boring of
stone and wooden, V. 5, 6-—pressure
and motion of water in, XII. 59, 68 ;
XVIII. 110 ; XIX. 258, et seq.—cast¬
ing of, XVIII. 62—motion of air in,
109; I. 610—stronger than solid
rods containing the same quantity of
matter, XX. 766, 778—conveyance
of water in, XXI. 794—manufacture
of tobacco-pipes, 318. See Aqueduct.
Pipe-Office, XVII. 748.
Piper, XVII. 748. See Pepper.
Piperacese, in botany, V. 130.
Piperin, VI. 469.
Piperineas, in botany, V. 130.
Pipers, XVII. 748.
Pipit, bird, XVI. 577.
Pipiza, insect, IX. 273.
Pipley, Hindu town, XVII. 749.
Piploud, Hindu town, XVII. 749.
Pipra, bird, XVI. 577.
Pipunculus, insect, IX. 276.
Piquet, or Picket, game, XVII. 749.
Piqui, tree, XVII. 734.
Piracuruca, in Brazil, XVII. 734.
Piracy, XIII. 139, 142—Algerine, II.
505, et seq.—in Barbary, IV. 366.
See Corsair, Pirate.
Piraeus, a port of ancient Athens, XVII.
749 ; IV. 126, 129 — improved by
Themistocles, 152.
Pirano, Austrian city, XVII. 750.
Pirate, XVII. 750 ; VII. 377. See
Piracy.
Pirena, mollusea, XV. 370.
Pirhala, Hindu town, XVII. 750.
Pirna, in Saxony, XVII. 750.
Piromalli (Paul), XVII. 750.
Piron (Alexis), poet, XVII. 750.
Pisa, XVII. 750 — cathedral of, III.
421, 474—commerce of, VII. 157—
school of painting, XVI. 708.
Pisander, IV. 159.
Pisano (N. and G.), painters, XVI. 708.
Piscadore Islands, XVII. 751.
I Piscator’s German Bible, IV. 617.
PIS—PIT
Piscina, XVII. 751.
Pisistratus, XVII. 751 — state of
Athens under, IV. 114—his govern¬
ment and character, 146.
Pismires, or Ants. See Ants.
Piso (Lucius Calpurnius), XVII. 751.
Piso’s conspiracy, XIX. 403.
Pison, insect, IX. 230.
Pissasphaltum, or Asphaltum, XVII.
751. See Asphaltum.
Pissel^um Indicum, XVII. 751.
Pistacia, genus of plants, XVII. 751.
Pistacite, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Pistiese, in botany, V. 136.
Pistil, in botany, XVII. 752; III. 95,
98; V. 44.
Pistoja, Italian city, XVII. 752.
Pistol, electrical, VIII. 662.
Pistole, XV. 407, et seq.
Piston of pump, XVII. 752 ; XVIII.
720—of steam-engine, XX. 661.
Pisum, XVII. 752. See Pea.
Pitard, French surgeon, XX. 827.
Pitcairne (Archibald), XVII. 752,
Pitch, XVII. 758 ; XVI. 49—mineral,
IV. 654; XV. 172—pitch-lake in
Trinidad, XXI. 386.
 of voice, XVII. 684.
Pitch-ore, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pitchstone, in mineralogy, XV. 157 —
specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pitching, XVII. 758; XX. 243.
Pith of plants, III. 61, 83 ; V. 33.
Pithecia, in zoology, XIV. 96.
Pithecus, in zoology, XIV. 90.
Pithiviers, in France, XVlI. 758.
Pitho, XVII. 758.
Pithou (Peter), XVII. 758.
Pitiscus (S.), philologist, XVII. 759.
 , mathematician, X. 430—on the
arithmetic of sines, II. 485.
Pitcher-plant of Java, XII. 530.
Pitkeathly, in Perthshire, XVII. 759.
Pitot (Henry), XVII. 759—centres
by, VI. 281—on undershot wheels,
XII. 88—on hydraulics, XIX. 257.
Pits (John), biographer, XVII. 759.
Pitsligo, church of, IV. 345.
Pitt (Christopher), XVII. 759.
  (William), Earl of Chatham,
XVII. 760—his administration, V.
384, et seq.—resignation, 386—return
to Parliament in 1775, 399—opposi¬
tion to the American war, ib.—elo¬
quence, XIX. 219.
 * (William^ son of the preceding,
XVII. 766—his plan of parliamentary
reform, V. 428, 436—his administra¬
tion, 432—India bills, 432, 434—re¬
fusal to resign 432—plan of a com¬
mercial union between .Britain and
Ireland, 437—sinking-fund, 439 ; X.
245, 255 — commercial treaty W'ith
France, V. 442; VII. 166 — on the
regency question, V. 452—on the slave-
trade, 454 ; XX. 385—on increasing
the army, V. 456—on the corporation
and test acts, 457—on Mr Grey’s mo¬
tions for parliamentary reform, 464,
470—his support of the war with
France, 469, 473, 477—bill to increase
the navy, 483—duel with Mr Tierney,
484—income-tax, 487 ; XXI. 109—
proposal of union of Britain and Ire¬
land, V. 487, 493—on the expediency
of continuing the war with Bonaparte,
492—end of his administration, 496—
his character as a statesman, 497—on
Catholic emancipation, 498, 545—on
the peace of Amiens, 507—his return
to power in 1803, 518—death, 520—
financial measures, VII. 161—blunder¬
ing policy in 1805, X. 137—speeches,
XIX. 219.
Pitt-Diamond, VIII. 5, 6 ; XI. 249, n. 3.
Pitt’s Island, XVII. 770.
 Straits, XVII. 770.
Pitta, bird, XVI. 573.
Pittacus of Mitylene, XVII. 770.
Pittenweem, XVII. 771.
Pittosporeae, in botany, V. 104.
Pittsburgh,in Pennsylvania, XVII. 224.
1 Pity, I. 367 ; XV. 463.
122
INDEX
PIT—PLA
JPitylus, bird, XVI. 581.
Pius, popes of this name, XVII. 771.
 II. (Pope), XVII. 771.
Pivots, XVII. 772 —friction of, XIV.
Ill—Coulomb on friction of, VII. 428.
Pixii (Hippolyte),. on magneto-electri¬
city, VIII. 574—his magneto-electric
machine, XXI. fiS)2.
Pixing of coins, VII. 52.
Pizarro (Francis), XVII. 772; II. 529
—his conquest of Peru, XVII. 295.
Ptzzo, Italian city, XVII. 772.
Placcius on anonymous books, IV. 627.
Place, XVII. 772 ; XIV. 656.
Placenta, II. 827 ; XVII. 692.
 , in botany, V. 50.
Placentia, in Spain, XVII. 772,
 , in Italy, XVII. 735.
Placuna, in eonchology, XV. 344.
Pladda, island, V. 752.
Plagiarism, instances of apparent but
not real, XIII. 241—charges of, against
Middleton, IV. 553; Milton, XIII.
120; Sterne, XX. 721.
Plagiary, XVII. 772.
Plagiostoma, mollusea, XV. 344,
Plagiostomi, fishes, XII. 231.
Plague, XVII. 772—at Aleppo, II. 400
—at Athens, IV. 155—in Egypt, II.
21 ; VIII. 516^in England, IX. 355
—in London, V. 344; XIII. 488—Black
Death in 14th century, XXI. 949.
Plaice, fish, XII. 220.
Plain, XVII. 778—plains on the earth’s
surface, 501.
Plan, XVII. 778—in architecture, IIJ.
469.
Planceer, in architecture, III. 469.
Plane, in geometry, XVII. 778 ; X. 457
—in joinery, XVII. 778.
Plane-trees, XVII. 790.
Planets, XVII, 778 ; III. 756 ; IV. 13
—their aberration, II. 34—optic equa¬
tions, 44—acceleration, 83—perturba¬
tions, III. 749 ; IV. 23—invariability
of mean distances, III. 751—motions,
757 ; IV. 13—inferior and superior,
14—stations and retrogradations, ib.
effects of the earth’s motion on their
appearances, 16—their orbits, 19 —
transits over the sun’s disk, 24—rela¬
tions of the numbers which express
their distances from the sun, 35—
forces which retain them in their or¬
bits, 49—forces which disturb their
elliptic motions, 54—disturbance in
their motion, produced by their mu¬
tual action, 58—stability of the plane¬
tary system, 59, 61—Druidical know¬
ledge of the planets, VIII. 206—source
of their motion, XV. 574.
Planetarium, XVII. 778.
Planetary Days and Years, XVII. 778*
Planiceps, insect, IX. 229.
Planimetry, in geometry, XVII. 778.
Planing-machine, Bramah’s, V. 182.
Planipenncs, insects, IX. 211.
Planisphere, XVII. 778.
Plank, in joinery, V. 687—planks of a
ship, XX. 284, 287, 294.
Pianorbis, in conchology, XV. 348, 353.1
Plants, XVII. 778—anatomy of, III.
41—their distinction from animals,
155 ; II. 685—effects of light on, XIII,
339—geographical distribution of,
XVII. 545. See Botany.
Plantade on the barometer, IV. 391.
Plantagenet, XVII. 778.
Plantagineoe, in botany, V. 52, n. 125.
Plantain compared with the bread-fruit,
V. 213.
Plantain-eater, bird, XVI. 604.
Plantations. See Forests, Wood, Plant¬
ing Timber.
Plantership, XVII. 778.
Plantigrada, XIV. 105—bones of foot
of. III. 10—structure of, XVII. 704.
Plantin’s Hebrew Bibles, IV. 614—his
Latin Bibles, 615.
Planting, XVII. 779—of fruit-trees,
XI. 636. See Timber.
Planudes (Maximus), Greek monk,
XVII. 796 ; III. 540.
PLA
Plasma, in mineralogy, XV. 157 ; V.
787—specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Plassey, XVII. 796—battle of, XI.415.
Plaster, XVII. 796.
 of Paris, XVII. 796. See Gyp¬
sum, Casting.
Plaster-work, in building, V. 677.
Plastic, XVII. 797.
Plastic Nature, XVII. 797.
Plat (Sir H.), on agriculture, II. 256.
Plata (La), XVIII. 1 ; II. 642—cli¬
mate of, 612—revolution in, 638—
map of, VI, PI. CLVII.-2.
   , river in South America, V. 645
—navigation of, II. 615.
Platasa!, XVIII. 9—battle of, IV. 151
—festival in honour of Jupiter cele¬
brated at, VIII. 666.
Platalea, bird, XVI. 620.
Platanese, in botany, V. 131.
Platax, fish, XII. 179.
Plate-bolt and plate-knee, in ship-build¬
ing, XX. 290.
Plate-glass, X. 570.
Platessa, fish, XII. 219.
Platform, XVIII. 9.
Platina, XVIII. 9—its use in the
blow-pipe, IV. 713 — specific gra¬
vity of, XII. 34—native, XV. 165—
its use in colouring porcelain, XVIII.
437—mines of, XV. 252 ; in Russia.
XIX. 578, 587 ; in Siberia, XX. 327.
Plating, XVIII. 9—of copper, VII.
311—voltaic, XXL 683.
Platinum, VI. 421—salts of oxides of,
452—fused by galvanism, XXI. 677
—remarkable property of spongy or
powdered, 679.
Plato, XVIII. 10 ; XX. 822—his sys¬
tem of optimism, 1.126-7—philosophy
Of, 300-1; III. 496, 506, 513, 529—
taught the possibility of antipodes,
255—on the soul and its transmigra¬
tions, 295 ; XVIII. 517—his style, III.
530—his astronomy, 729—on beauty,
IV. 484—his dialectic, VII. 756—his
school of geometry, X. 423—consi¬
dered as a mathematician, XIV. 314
—on optics, XVI. 348—on physio¬
logy, XVII. 725—on plastic nature,
797—on the gods, XVIII. 340—his
admiration of Socrates, XX. 445—
does not give an exact portrait of
him, 451, 468—his account of the last
days of Socrates, 4 59—on water and
steam, 611—Dionysius of Syracuse
committed to his care, XXI. 56—his
doctrine of the trinity, 206.
Platonic, XVIII. 42.
Platonic Year, XVIII. 42.
Platonics (New), II. 663 ; XII. 505.
Platonists, conic sections seem to have
been discovered by the, VII. 218.
Plattsburg, V. 538.
Platycephala, insects, IX. 289.
Platycephalus, fish, XII. 174.
Platycercus, bird, XVI. 601.
Platydactyli, reptiles, XIX. 146.
Platypeza, insect, IX. 276.
Platypezinse, insects, IX. 276.
Platypterix, insect, IX. 248.
Platypteron, fish, XII. 194.
Platypus, XXI. 554, 716.
 ■—, insect, IX. 176.
Platyrhynchus, bird, XVI. 569.
Platysoma, insects, IX. 177, 287.
Platyura, insect, IX. 262.
Plauen, in Saxony, XVIII. 42.
Plausibility, in rhetoric, XIX. 207.
Plautus (M. Attius), XVIII. 42 ; XVI.
765 ; XVII. 411—comedies of, VIII.
« 51-2—poetry of, XVIII. 153.
Player. See Actor.
Playfair (John), XVIII. 44—remarks
on his assertion that Galileo was the
first who maintained the law of con¬
tinuity, I. 258—his Dissertation on
the progress of mathematical and
physical science, 431—on the ma¬
thematical and astronomical' know¬
ledge of the Hindus, II. 426 ; III.
726—on physical astronomy, IV. 48
on barometrical measurements,
PLA—PLU
399 — on the moon’s acceleration,
XIII. 99—on Laplace’s Mecanique
Celeste, 100—on the discoverer of the
differential calculus, 208—on mag¬
netic curves, 727.
Playhouse, XVIII. 49. See Theatre.
Playte, XX. 218.
Plea, in law, XVIII. 52.
 , insect, IX. 197.
Pleading, English, IX. 34.
Pleasure, XVIII. 52—^Aristotle on,
III. 520—effects of custom on, VII.
558—relative dignity of different kinds
of, VIII. 28—contemplation of dis¬
tress a source of, 53, 162—domestic
enjoyments, 100 — meaning of the
term as used by Epicurus, IX. 308—
of the senses, XX. 96—of taste, XXI.
89. See Happiness.
Plebeian, XVIII. 57 — Roman ple¬
beians, XIX. 370, 378.
Plectognathi, fishes, XII. 228.
Plectrophanes, bird, XVI. 580.
Plectophorus, molluscum, XV. 357.
Plectroptoma, fish, XII. 169.
Plectrum, XVIII. 57.
Pledge, XVIII. 57—Mosaic law of,
XV. 566 — to pledge in drinking,
XVIII. 57.
Pledgery, XVIII. 57.
Pleiades, XVIII. 57.
Pleione, worm, XL 219.
Plenary, XVIII. 57.
Plenipotentiary, XVIII. 57.
Plenitude, XVIII. 57.
Plenum, in physics, XVIII. 57.
Pleonasm, in rhetoric, XVIII. 57,
Plesiops, fish, XII. 196.
Plesiosaurus, bones of, III. 16.
Plethora, XVIII. 57 ; XVII. 126—an
the domestic animals, XXI. 632.
Pleura, II. 754.
Pleurisy in brutes, XXI. 631.
Pleurobranchus, XV. 362.
Pleuronecthke, fishes, XII. 219.
Pleurotoma, mollusca, XV. 347.
Plexus, in anatomy, XVIII. 58—ner¬
vous plexuses; II. 734.
Plica Polonica, XVIII. 58.
Plieatula, mollusca, XV. 342.
Plicipennes, insects, IX. 214.
Plinlimmon, XV. 433.
Plinius Secundus (C.), or Pliny the El¬
der, XVIII. 58—onalumen, II. 572—on
sal ammoniac, 660—on the Druids,
VIII. 203, et seq.—on the preservation
of timber, 232—on geography, X. 396
—on the Hebrides, XI. 202—on the
echeneis, XII. 222 —on irrigation,
454—his Natural History, XI V. 75;
XVII. 412—Hardouin’s edition of it,
XL 145—on ornithology, XVI, 545—
on painting, 698, et seq.—his death,
XIX. 405—on the silkworm, XX. 350.
Plinius C^cilius Secundus (C.), or
Pliny the Younger, XVIII. 59—his
letter to Trajan about the Christians,
VI. 629—on hunting, XI. 739—Mel-
moth’s translation of his Letters,
XIV. 541.
Plinth, XVIII. 59 ; III. 469.
Ploas, insect, IX. 268.
Ploceus, bird, XVI. 580.
Plock, Polish province, XVIII. 59.
Ploermel, in France, XVIII. 60. •
Ploiaria, insect, IX. 197.
Ploiotribus, insect, IX. 176.
Plomo, in metallurgy, XVIII. 60.
Plot (Dr Robert), XVIII. 60.
Plotinus, philosopher, XVIII. 60.
Plotosus, fish, XII. 203.
Plotus, bird, XVI. 634.
Plough, XVIII. 61; II. 265, 349, 350
—expense of a horse-plough, 320 
Mr Smith of Deanston’s subsoil-
plough, XX. 7 31.
Ploughing, II. 275—by oxen, 321.
Plover, bird, XVI. 617.
Plover-shooting, XX. 307.
Plowden (Edmund), XVIII. 61.
Pluc he (Antony), French writer, XVIII.
61—on hieroglyphics, XI. 305.
Plucknet’s reaping-machine, II. 270.
PLU—POC
Plug, XVIII. 62—lifting plug, XIV.
458.
Plukenet (Leonard), XVIII. 62.
Plums, culture of, XL 644.
Plum-tree, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Plumb-level, XIII. 256.
Plumb-line, XVIII. 63.
Plumbagin, VI. 469.
Plumbaginece, in botany, V. 124.
Plumbago; VI. 368—specific gravity of,
XII. 34—British mines of, XV. 248-
VII. 573.
Plumbers’ work, in building, V. 693-
XVIII. 62—their extortionate charges,
V. 694. See Lead.
Plumbery, XVIII. 62.
Plunder's botanical labours, V. 86.
Plummet, or Plumb-Line, XVIII. 63.
Plumming, in mining, XVIII. 63.
Plumose, XVIII. 63.
Plumule, in botany, V. 51.
Plunkett (Mr), his bills for Catholic
emancipation, V. 552.
Plural, in grammar, XVIII. 63.
Pluralities, ecclesiastical, XII. 753, n.
Plus, XVIII. 63.
Plush, cloth, XVIII. 63.
Plusquam-perfect tense, X. 660, CGI.
Plutarch, XVIII. 63—the notion of
centrifugal force implied in a state-
ment of his, I. 452—on the Amazons,
II. 589—his character of the Athe¬
nians, IV. 163—his story of Pan’s
death, ■ XVI. 781 — a Manichean,
XVIII. 340, n. 4—on human sacri¬
fices, XIX. 607.
Pluto, pagan god, XVIII. 64.
Plutus, god of riches, XVIII. 64.
Pluviameter, XIV. 742,
Pluvius, XVIII. 64,
Plyclotophus, bird, XVI. 603.
Plyers, in fortification, XVIII. 64.
Plying, XVIII. 64.
Plymouth, XVIII. 64—breakwater at,
V. 219—fortification of, 437, 438—
diving-bell used at, VIII. 70—dock¬
yard of, 85—victual-establishments,
ib.—supplied with water by Sir F.
Drake, 143 —harbour of, 763.
 , a town in Massachusetts, XIV.
305; XVI. 156.
Plympton Earls, XVIII. 68.
Plynteria, XVIII. 68.
Pneumatics, XVIII. 69; XVII. 568—
invention of the air-pump, J; 480—•
experiments on the passage of air
through pipes, 610—method of deter-
mining the relative density of any gas,
611—observations on the escape of
air and vapour through an aperture,
ib.—experiments on the density of the
air at different heights, 613—explana¬
tion of Bouguer’s rule relative to the
barometrical measurement of moun¬
tains, 614—experiments of De Luc
and others, ib.—vacuefying apparatus
in the feet of certain animals, III. 28;
IX. 257—Dr Beddoes’s Pneumatic In¬
stitution, IV. 514—Otto Guericke’s
experiments on atmospheric pressure,
XX. 622. Sec Air-pump, Atmosphere,
Barometer, Hydrostatics.
Pneumatology, XIV. 599.
Pneumatosis, XVII. 126.
Pneumodermon, molluscum, XV. 355.
Pneumogastric nerve, II. 812.
Pneumonia, XVII. 493—in the domestio
animals, XXI. 631.
Pneumora, insect, IX. 192.
Pnyx. in ancient Athens, IV. 124.
Po, river, XVIII. 137; XII. 484 ; XIII.
469—its inundations, XII. 2—mouths,
XVII. 4—tributaries, 5—delta and
deposition at mouths, 524 ; XIX. 278
—embankments, XVII. 525—velocity,
XIX. 270—bed, 277.
Pobassoo’s Island, XVIII. 137.
Pochard, bird, XVI. 637.
Pocklington, in Yorkshire, XVIII.
137—canal, XVI. 17.
Pocock’s Island, XVIII. 137—Point, ib.
Pococke (Dr Edward), English divine,
XVIII. 137.
INDEX
123
POD—POI
POL
POL
Pocockb (Richard), XVIII. 138—his ac¬
count of Palestine, XVI. 742.
Podalirius, XVIII. 138 ; XX. 820.
Podargus, bird, XVI. 579.
Podem, Turkish village, XVIII. 138.
Podemno, Russian village, XVIII. 138.
Podenda, in Asia Minor, XVIII. 138.
Podetium, in botany, V. 57.
PODGOKODKOI, XVIII. 138.
Podiceps, bird, XVI. 629.
Podisma, insect, IX. 194.
Podium, insect, IX. 229.
Podley, fish, XII. 218.
Podoa, birds, XVI. 629.
Podol, Russian town, XVIII. 138.
Podolia, in Russia, XVIII. 138.
Podontia, insect, IX. 183.
Podophthalma, Crustacea, VII. 500.
Podophyllacese, in botany, V. 96.
Podosperm, in botany, V. 46, 50,
Podostemeae, in botany, V. 137,
Podspusknoi, XVIII. 138.
Podstefnoi, XVIII. 138.
Podura, insect, IX. 295,
Podurellas, insects, IX. 295.
PtEMLE, a portico in ancient Athens,
XVIII. 138.
Poecilia, fish. XII. 199,
Poecilloporidm, zoophytes, XXL 1022.
Poeppig (Dr), quotation from his work
oh South America, XVII. 302.
Poerner’s processes for dyeing scarlet,
VIII. 313.
Poes turn. See Poestum.
Poetry, XVIII. 140—Chinese, VI. 569
—Persian, XVII. 252—definition of,
by D’Alembert, 1.4; by Bacon, 33—
Aristotle’s, III. 517—language of, IV.
495—comparisons in, VII. 185—dis¬
tinguished from prose, 687 ; from elo¬
quence, XIX. 202—didactic, VII. 688
—no French language of, VIII. 165
—suggests musical ideas, XV. 642.
Pogge, fish, XII. 174.
Poggio Bracciolini, XVIII. 174—his
Facetice, II. 674.
foggy Islands. See Nassau Isles.
Poglezza, VII. 595.
Pogonias, bird, XVI. 599.
 , fish, XII. 176.
Pogonocherus, insect, IX. 180.
Pogromnaia Reca, river, XVIII. 174.
Poictiers. See Poitiers.
Poignard on magic squares, XIII. 681.
Point, XVIII. 174.
Point-Blank, in gunnery, XVIII. 174.
Point de Galle, XVIII. 174 ; VI. 303.
Point Gordwar, in the Bay of Bengal,
XVIII. 174.
Point Pedro, in Ceylon, XVIII. 174.
Pointed architecture, III. 419-423, 430,
453, 463, 474—first period of, 454—
second period, 455—third period, 456.
Pointer-dogs, XX. 309.
Pointing,in grammar, XVIII. 174,729.
Pointis, a bueaneer, V. 625.
Points, XVIII. 174.
Pointy, in Bengal, XVIII. 174.
1 oison, XVIII. 174—poisons distin¬
guished from aliments and medicines,
III. 166—the same do not act alike
on different animals, ib.—extensive
poisonings in Italy and France with
aqua Tofana, 313, 314—of spiders,
353—juice of the manioc, V. 67-
death from, XIV. 500—poisonous ani¬
mals, 526—ordeal by poison, XVI.
520—diseases from, XVII. 488—of
serpents, XX. 126, 150—poisoning of
rats, XXI. 600.
Poison-gland of serpents, III 40.
Poison-Tree, XVIII. 183. Seel
Poisson (Monsieur), on thetransm:
and velocity of sound, II. 116;
484—on electricity, VIII. 573
theory of waves, XII. 6—on ma
ism, XIII. 773—on optics, XVI
437—on the pendulum, XVII.
204—on probability, XVIII. 59!
Poiteau (Monsieur), ou the germin
of wheat, III. 76, 78.
Poitiers, in France, XVIII. 183—1
of, VI. 604 ; VIII. 728 ; X. 18.
Pol de Leon, French city, XVIII. 246
—encroachment of sand at, XVI. 776.
Pola, amphitheatre at, II. 670.
 .island, XVIII. 183.
POLACRE, XVIII. 183.
Poland, XVIII. 184; XL 484—parti:
tion of, IV. 312; XIX. 553—Polish
Bibles, IV. 617—corn-trade of, VII.
362—Napoleon’s conduct towards, X.
144, 148, 155—Jews in, XII. 583-
language of, XIII. 89 ; XVII. 420—
libraries in, XIII. 315—coins of, XV.
408, 410—wars with Russia, XIX.
532, et seq.—geology of, 566—wars with
Sweden, XXI. 17, 20—deposition of
Augustus, and elevation of Stanislas to
the throne, 22—reinstatement of Au¬
gustus, 23—war with Turkey, 413—
weights and measures of, 855.
Polar Circles, X. 406.
Polar Light. See Aurora Borealis.
Polar Regions, recent discoveries of Parry
and others in the, II. 606—insects of,
IX. 104—voyages to, X. 401 ; XVIII.
215—plants of, XVII. 546.
Polar Seas, XVIII. 215—Russian
islands in, XIX. 500.
Polarisation of Light, XVIII. 225 ;
XIII. 333 ; XVI. 359, 365, et seq.—
discovery of, by Malus, I. 638—idea
of, may be traced to Newton’s Optics,
ib.—laws of, VI. 641. See Chromatics.
 of heat, XI. 187.
Polarity of steel wateh-balanees, VI. 800
—of magnets, XIII. 703.
Polcura or alum-earth, II. 574.
Pole (Reginald), Archbishop of Canter¬
bury, XVIII. 246 ; VIII. 750, 754.
 (Wellesley), V. 545.
Poles, in astronomy, XVIIL 247—in
geography, X. 406—Daines Barring¬
ton on the possibility of reaching the
North Pole, IV. 407—magnetic poles,
XIII. 691—poles of maximum cold,
695. See Polar Regions.
Pole-axe, XVIII. 247.
Pole-cat, XIV. 109.
Pole-star, VII. 771.
Polein, XVIIL 247.
Polemarchds, XVIII. 247.
Polemafas, VII. 623.
Polemical, XVIII. 247.
Polemo, philosopher, XVIII. 247.
 Groeeanicus, XII. 291.
Polemon, king of Pontus, XVIII. 361.
PolemonideK.in botany, V. 121.
Polcni, on hydrodynamics, XII. 3, 64.
Polesina, in Italy, XVIIL 247.
Polet.e, XVIIL 247.
Poll, on conchology, XV. 331.
Poliantiies, in botany, XVlIl. 247.
Police, XVIIL 248—medical, XIV.
508—Prussian, XVIII. 697—of Vien¬
na, XXL 645.
Policy of Insurance, XVIIL 257,
Poligna (Melchior de), XVIIL 257.
Poligny, in France, XVIIL 257.
Polisher, XVIII. 257.
Polistes, insent, IX, 231.
Politeness, XVIII. 257 ; XV. 467,
474.
Politian (Angelo), Italian author,
XVIIL 257; VI. 717.
Political, XVIIL 257.
 Arithmetic, XVIII. 257.
 Duties, XV. 476.
 Economy, XVIII. 258; VII.
457—inadequacy of the term to ex¬
press the nature of the science, I. 294
—Aristotle on, III. 529—Beccaria ou,
I\. 505. See Colonies, Commerce,
Corn Laws, Cottage System, Currency,
Economists, Emigration, Paper Mo¬
ney, Poor Laws, Population, &c.
■ Education, VIII. 450.
 Science, little adrance made in,
prior to the 17th century, I. 20.
Politics, Aristotle on, III. 525—where¬
in different from political economy,
XVIIL 271.
Poliziano (Angelo), XVIII. 257; VI. 717.
Poll, XVIIL 308.
Poll-evil. XXL 616.
Poll-Money, XVIIL 308.
Pollard, XVIIL 308.
Pollen of plants, XVIIL 308 ; 111.97;
V. 44 ; XXI. 583—active molecules
found in, III. 192—collected by bees,
IV. 520.
Pollenin, VI. 481.
Pollicis Pressio, XVIIL 308.
Pollio (Caius Asinius), XVIIL 308—
his patronage of Virgil, XXI. 654.
  (Vedius), his treatment of his
slaves, XX. 382.
Pollock, fish, XII. 218.
Polloor, Hindu town, XVIII. 308.
Pollux, XVIIL 308.
(Julius), ancient Greek writer,
XVIIL 308.
Polo, island, XVIII. 308.
— (Marco), XVII. 158; VI. 551,
574, 587—his travels in Asia, III.
697; X. 397.
Polochrum, insect, IX. 229.
Poloonshah, XVIIL 308.
Poltroon, XVIIL 308.
Polyacanthus, fish, XII. 190.
Polyajnus, XVIIL 308.
POLYANTHEA, XVIIL 309.
Polyanthus, culture^of, XI. 684.
Polybius, Greek historian, XVIII. 309
—style of, HI. 264 ; XVII. 407—on
government, IX. 10—Folard’s Com¬
mentaries on, 712—on geography, X.
395—discrepancies between him and
Livy, XIII. 401.
 , Greek anatomist, II. 686.
Polycarp, XVIII. 310.
Polychord, XVIIL 311.
Polychroite, VI. 485; VIII. 321.
Polychrus, reptile, XIX. 145.
Polycletes, Greek statuary and archi¬
tect, XVIIL 311.
Polyclinum, molluscum, XV. 371.
Polycotyledons, in botany, III. 72.
Polycrota, XVIII. 311.
Polydesmus, insect, XV. 653.
Polydore Virgil, XXL 657.
Polydorus, XVIII. 311.
Polyergus, insect, IX. 2?8.
Polygaleae, in botany, V. 98.
Polygamia, in botany, XVIIL 311; V.
88..
Polygamy, XVIIL 311-in Arabia, III.
336—prevalent in Asia, 694—among
the Battas, IV. 451—in China, VI.
587 ; Siam, XX. 322 ; Unalasbk'a, II.
4 06—is unnatural, XV. 472.
Polygars’ Territory, XVIII. 314.
Polygars, VI. 148.
Polyglott Bibles, XVIII. 314 ; IV.
616.
Polygnotus, ancient Greek painter,
XVIIL 314 ; XVI. 700, 703.
Polygon, XVIIL 314 ; X. 432, 438,
449, 453—to find its area, XIV. 568.
Polygonese, in botany, V. 126.
Polygraphy, XVIIL 314.
Polyhedron, XVIIL 314.
Polyhymnia, one of the Muses, XVIII.
314 ; XV. 603.
Polymathy, XVIIL 314.
Polynemus, fish, XII. 171.
Polynesia, XVIIL 315; IV. 2Q3 —
diving in, VIII. 61—animals of, XVIl.
551 — absence of serpents jp, XX.
133. See Otaheite, &c.
Polynoe, worm, XI. 221.
Polyodon, fish, XII. 230.
Polyommatus, insect, IX. 242.
Polypes, zoophytes, XXI. 1019—mol-
iuscan, 1020-1—radiated, 1021.
Polyphemus, a Cyclops, XVIII. 329.
Polyplectron, musical instrument,
XVIIL 329—bird, XVI. 606.
Polypriop, fish, XII. 169.
Polypterus, fish, XII. 217.
Polypus, insect, XVIIL 329 ; III. 162,
163, 181—structure of, XVII. 722.
 of the nose in the domestic ani¬
mals, XXI. 629.
PolysemAsia, XVIII. 330.
Polyspermous plants, XVIIL 330,
Polystoma, zoophytes, XXL 997.
Polysyllable, XVIII. 330.
POL—POO
Polytechnic School in Franco, X. 205.
Polytheism, XVIIL 330—origin of,
IV. 169. See Mythology.
Polytriglyph, III. 469.
Polytypage, XVIIL 567.
Polyxcnus, insect, XV. 653.
Polyzona, mollusca, XV. 370,
Pomaceae, in botany, V. 108,
Pomatumus, fish, XII. 168.
Pombal, XVIII. 342, 471.
(Marquis of), his administration
ju Brazil, V. 193.
Pomegranate tree, sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Pomerania, Prussian province, XVIIL
342—coast of, IV. 329.
Pomfret (John), poet, XVIIL 342.
 (black), fish, XII. 188.
Pomme, in heraldry, XVIII. 342,
Pommel, XVIII. 342.
Pomocentrus, fish, XII. 176.
Pomcerium, XVIIL 342,
Pomona, island, XVI. 539.
Pomotis, fish, XII. 169.
Pompeii, XVIIL 343; III. 419, 431;
XV. 699—streets and houses in, III.
4 45—domestic utensils found in, 447
— architectural remains of, 473 —
pictures in, XVI. 728 — steelyard
found in, XXI. 836.
Pompey, XVIIL 34 6 ; VIII. 474, et seq.;
XIX. 394, et seq.—death of, 397—Je¬
rusalem taken by, XII. 571—his expe¬
dition against Mithridates, XVIIL
356.
Pompey’s Pillar, XVIIL 346 ; II 412.
Pompilus, insect, IX. 229.
Pomponatius (Peter), XVIIL 346.
Pomum, in botany, V. 48.
Ponarum, Indian town, XVIII. 346.
Ponce de Leon, poetry of, XVIIL 163.
 (Pedro de), VII. 658.
Poncet’s Abyssinian mission, II. 54.
Pond (Mr), his peculiar defect of hear¬
ing, XV. 607.
 for fish, IX. 589.
Pondah, Hindu town, XVIII. 346.
Pondi, island, XVIII. 346.
Pondicherry, XVIII. 346.
Pondimarka, XVIIL 347.
Pondong, island, XVIIL 347.
Ponera, insect, IX. 128.
Poniard, XVIII. 347.
Poniatoffski, ot Poniatowski (Count),
VI. 243, 245 ; XXI. 24
Pons (St), in France, XVlIl. 347.
Pont-a-Mousson, XVIII. 347.
Pont Audemer, XVIII. 347.
Pont Cysylte aqueduct, HI. 322.
Pont de Baux, XVIII. 347.
Pont l’Eveque, XVIII. 348.
Ponta del Gada, IV. 263,
Pontarlier, in France, XVIII. 347.
Ponte-Cobvo, Italian city, XVIIL 347.
Pontederiacese, in botany, V. 135.
Pontefract, XVIII. 347.
Pontia, island, XVIIL 362,
Pontevico, XVIII. 347.
Pontiana, Dutch settlement in Borneo,
XVIII. 347 ; V. 10.
Pontifex, XVIII. 347—office of Pocti-
fox Maximus, XIV. 463.
Pontificate, XVIII. 347.
Pontine marshes, XVII. 5.
Pontivy, in France, XVIII. 347,
Pontoise, in France, XVJII. 348,
Pontoon, XVIII. 348.
 Carriage, XVIII. 348.
 Bridge, XVIII. 348.
Pontus, in Asia Minor, XVIII. 348.
Pontypool, XVIII. 362.
Pony, XL 591—Highland, II. 317.
Ponza, or Pontia, island, XVIII. 3S2.
Poogul, or Pqoggul, a Hindu town.
XVIIL 362 ; IV. 609.
Pool, of Poole, ip Dorsetshire, XVIIL
362 ; VIII. 120.
 (Gerrit Tomaz), exploratory voy¬
age of, IV. 205.
Poole (Matthew), XVIII. 363
Poonah, XVIIL 863; XL 438.
Poonakua, Hindu town, XVIIL 364,
Poonar, Hindu town, XVIIL 364.
Poondy, Hindu town, XVIII. 364,
124
INDEX
POO—POP
Poon-wood of India, XXL 300.
Pooe, XVIII. 361—support of the,
XVII. 335,   their right to support,
XVIII. 426. See Mendicity, Pauper¬
ism, Poor-Laws.
Poor Knights, islands, XVIII. 364.
Poor-Laws,XVIII. 364—Russian, XIX.
584—Scotch, 765—Spanish, XX. 522
—Swiss, XXI. 50—their origin in
England, VII. 335, 336, n.—agricul¬
tural colonies of Holland, II. 347—
cottage-system, VII. 386, 392.
Poor-rates, XXI. 109—English, VIII.
790—pernicious eifects of paying
wages out of, 791.
POORBUNDER, XVIII. 364.
Poornah, river, XVIII. 388.
Poorpooroo, island, XVIII. 388.
POO RENDER. XVIII. 388.
Poorwah, Hindu town, XVIII. 388.
Pooshkxr, Hindu town, XVIII. 388.
Pootellam, Hindu town, XVIII. 388.
Poott, river, XVIII. 388.
Popatan, XVIII. 388.
Pope of Rome, XVIII. 388—Aquinas
on power of, I. 420—ceremony of
kissing feet of, II. 161—suppression
of obnoxious hooks by the Popes, IV.
628—election of, VII. 196—power of,
during the middle ages, 491—effect
of the Crusades on power of, ib.—
tiara of, XI. 256—rise of power of,
481, 491, et seq.—ecclesiastical power
and privileges of, 496—consistory,
VII. 266.
Pope (Alex.), XVIII. 391—mistake of,
concerning the dogma of necessity, I.
128 —his censure of Newton and
Clarke relative to their reasoning on
the existence of a deity, 140, 146—
Spinozism and Pantheism, with which
he charged Clarke, brought against
himself, 147—his veneration for Ber¬
keley, 163—Memoirs of Martinus
Scriblerus, III. 376—his treatment of
Broome, V. 590—his injustice to
Burman, 720 —his satire on Dr
Clarke, VI. 729—his Homer publish¬
ed by subscription, VII. 316—on Dry-
den, VIII. 223 — on gardening, X.
323, n.—poetry of, XVIII. 171—Ros-
coe’s edition and Life of, XIX. 476—
Warbui’ton’s Vindication of his Essay
on Man, XXI. 770, 771—his friend¬
ship with Warburton, 771—Warton’s
Essay on his Writings and Genius,
778 ; and edition of his works, 779—
his definition of wit, 906.
 (Sir Thomas), Warton’s Life of,
XXL 780.
POPERINGHEN, XVIII. 405.
Popery, XVIII. 405 — favoured by
Charles the Second, V. 351,354 ; and
by James the Second, 356—baptism,
IV. 354, 355—canon law, VI. 91—ca¬
nonization, 95—origin of some of its
superstitions, XIX. 419—holy water,
XXI. 784. See Celibacy, Penance,
Purgatory, Reformation, Relics, &c.
Pop-gun Plot, V. 476.
Popiiam (Sir John), XVIII. 406.
   (Sir Home), his capture of Bue¬
nos Ayres, V. 523—his telegraph,
XXI. 139—his code of naval signals,
142; XVI. 56.
Porn,ins (Loenas), XVIII. 406.
Popish Plot,V. 348;XII. 375; XIII.411.
Popiab, in Middlesex, XVIII. 406.
Poplar-trees, XVII. 780, 784, 790.
Poplar-wood, specific gravity of, XII. 34
—its use in joinery, 618.
Popo, XVIII. 407.
Popoca (Mount), XVIII. 407.
Popocatepetl, volcano, XIV. 797.
Poppaja (Sabina), XVIII.407; XIX.403.
Population, XVIII. 407; XI. 393, n.
—of ancient and modern Egypt, VIII.
527—of England, 797—of Greece, X.
736—its increase in America, II. 649;
XXI. 457—capability of America of
supporting, II. 649—its redundancy
a reason for colonization, VII. 113—
Malthus’s theory of, 114; XIV. 68
POP-POR
—tendency of the cottage-system to j
increase it, VII. 392, 393-4—effects of |
the cotton-manufacture on, 413—emi¬
gration as a remedy of superfluous, |
VIII. 683—Filangieri on,IX. 575-6—
its tendency to increase, XIV. 509—
its increase in Russia, XIX. 572.
Populin, VI. 471.
Porcelain, XVIII. 429—Chinese, VI.
577, 578—Japanese, XII. 517—chip¬
ping of, VI. 589—manufacture of, in
England, VIII. 779—specific gravity
of, XII. 34. See Pottery.
Porcellanite, sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Porch, XVIIL 441.
Porchester, in Hants, XVIIL 441.
Porco, in Bolivia, XVIII. 441.
Porch, Hindu town, XVIIL 441.
Porcupine, XIV. 139.
PORDENONE, XVIII. 441.
Pore, town in Colombia, XIII. 403.
Pores of plants, III. 67—of leaves, 95.
Poretschie, XVIII. 441.
Porism, in geometry, XVIII. 441.
PoritidaD, zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Pork, XVIII. 447—pickling and kitting
of, IT. 339.
Porlock, XVIIL 447.
Poro-Isle, XVIII. 447.
Poronnishir, island, XVIIL 447.
Porphyrio, bird, XVI. 627.
Porphyrius, XVIII. 447—Did he forge
Sanchoniatho’scosmogony? XIX. 636.
Porphyrops, insect. IX. 277.
Porphyry, in mineralogy, XVIIL 447
—specific gravity of, XII. 34—me¬
tals found in, XV. 278.
Porpoise, XIV. 177—stomach of bottle-
nose, III. 36—white, at tlie mouths of
the Danube, IV. 660.
Porsenna, XIX. 369
Porson (Richard), XVIII. 447.
Port or harbour, XVIII. 452- royal
prerogative respecting ports, 522—m
sea language, XVIII. 452.
Ports of a ship of war, XVIII. 452.
Port wine, XVI. 346; XXL 902.
Porta (Baptista), XIV. 282—on optics,
I. 508 ; XIII. 329 ; XVI. 352—popu¬
larity of bis Magia Naturalis, I. 509
—his physical researches, IV. 385—
on the concentration of cold by re¬
flection, VII. 57—on dew, 749—on
physiognomy, XVII. 575.
 (Giacomo delia), his merits as an
architect, III. 426.
 (Giambattista della), on pneu¬
matics, XX. 613-14.
Portadown, Irish town, XVIII. 452.
Portaferry, Irish town, XVIII. 452.
Portal, in architecture, XVIII. 453.
 (Antoine), his System of Ana¬
tomy, II. 704, 828.
Portalegre, XVIII. 453 ; XIX. 246.
Portales, VI. 544.
Port Anna Maria, XVIII. 453.
Portarlington, XVIII. 453.
Portate, in heraldry, XVIII. 453.
PORT-AC-pRINCE, XVIII. 453.
Portcullis, XVIII. 453.
Port-Dalrymple, XVIII. 463.
Porte (the Sublime), XXI. 422.
Portendik, XX. 94.
Porteous Mob, VIII. 415.
Porter (Captain), XVIII. 328.
 (Sir R. K.), his account of Per-
sepolis, XVII. 255.
 , liquor, XVIIL 453—brewing
of, V. 252—strength of, 254.
Porter’s automaton lamp, XIII. 44.
Porterfield on perception, XIV. 605.
Port-Glasgow, XVIII. 453.
Port-Grace, XVI. 160.
Portgreve, XVIII. 454.
Porthoneus. fish, XII. 186.
Portici, XVIIL 454; XV. 699—dial
found at, VII. 758.
Portico, XVIIL 454 ; III. 469.
Porticus, in architecture, III. 469.
Port-Jackson, XVIIL 454.
Portland (Duke of.) See Bentinck.
 Islands, XVIII. 455.
 Island, XVIIL 455.
POPv-POS
Portland, in Maine, XIV. 44.
 Vase, XVIII. 455.
 (Isle of), in Dorsetshire, XVIIL
455—quarries of, VIII. 120—geology
of, XV. 205.
  Stone, boring of, V. 5 —vast
blocks of, VIII. 120.
 Roads, construction of a break¬
water in, recommended, V. 223.
Portlock and Dixon’s voyage, X. 262.
Port Louis, in France, XVIII. 455.
 , in Mauritius, XIV. 332.
Port-Macquarie, XVIII. 455.
Portobello, a bui'gh in Edinburgh¬
shire, XVIIL 455; VIII. 430.
 , in Panama, XVI. 785—captured
by Admiral Vernon, V. 379 ; by the
bucaneers, 624.
Porto Ferrajo, in Elba, XVIII. 455.
Porto-Novo, Indian town, XVIII. 455.
Porto Rico, island, XVIII. 455.
Porto Santo, XIII. 671.
Porto-Seguro, in Brazil, XVIII. 457.
Port-Patrick, XVIII. 457; XXL 883.
Portrait, XVIII. 457.
Portrait-painter, a blind, IV. 702.
Portrait-painting, XVI. 703, 704—Sir
Joshua Reynolds on, III. 655.
Portree, XVIIL 459 ; XX. 381.
Port-Royal, in Jamaica, XVIII. 455;
XII. 501.
 , in Mai’tinique, XIV. 266.
Port-Sandwick, XVIII. 455.
Portsea, XVIII. 459.
Portsmouth, XVIII. 459 ; XI. 129—
Naval Academy at, II. 77—blockma¬
king at, IV. 704—fire in the dockyard
of, in 1776, V. 425—fortification of,
437, 438—basin at, VIII. 80—dock¬
yard, 84—Naval College, ib.—Naval
Architectural School, ib.; XX. 229,
230, 259—harbour, VIII. 763—Arun¬
del Canal, XVI. 17—eai’ly origin of
dockyard, XX. 215.
— , in New Hampshire, XVI. 164.
Port ov, Scottish burgh, XVIII. 461.
Portugal, XVIIL 462—construction
of map of, II. f>8—Royal Academies
of Sciences and Portuguese History,
73, 75 — American denies, 639 —
settlements in Angola, igi—pointed
architecture, III. 423—army, 602—
botanists, V. 82—discovery and settle¬
ment of Brazil, 188—war with Spain
in 1762, 386—French invasion of, in
1807, 524; X. 148—British troops
sent to, in 1826, V. 571—settlements
in Ceylon, VI. 305—colonies, VII.
126—commercial treaty with Britain
in 1703, 164—trade with England,
VIII. 779—Indian possessions, X. 594
—language, XIII. 88—variation of the
needle, 734, 736—coins, XV. 488, 41 0
newspapers, XVI. 173 — condition
under Emanuel, 655—religion, XIX.
316—romance, 330—slave-trade, XX.
385, 386—computation of tonnage of
ships, XXI. 329—weights and mea¬
sures, 855—map of, XX. Pi. 464. See
Alphonso, Portuguese.
Portugalete, silver-mines of, IV. 749.
Portuguese, their missions to Abyssinia,
II. 52—first circumnavigated Africa,
220—their quarrels with the Hotten¬
tots, 226—maritime discoveries, X.
398—intercourse with the Japanese,
XII. 519 ; and Chinese, XIII. 617—
not the originators of the slave-trade,
XX. 38 3. See Portugal.
Portuguese-man-of-war, zoophyte, XXI.
1018.
Portulacete, in botany, V. 111.
Portumna, Irish town, XVIII. 483.
Porus, defeated by Alexander the Great,
XIII. 635.
Posega, Hungarian city, XVIII. 483.
Posen, in Prussia, XVIII. 483, 212—
swarm of ants at, III. 243.
Posidonius, XVIII. 483 ; X. 426—on
the earth’s size, XIX. 546 ; X. 393.
Position (Centre of), XVIII. 483.
Positive electricity, VIII. 576, 578.
Positra, Hindu town, XVIII. 435.
POS—POU
Poson, island, XVIII. 485.
Possession Island, XVIII. 485.
Possessive Case, XVIII. 485; X. 643.
Post, XVIIL 485.
Post-Office, XVIIL 486—in Edin¬
burgh, VIII. 420—in London. XIII.
502—revenue from, in Austria, IV.
232—abuses in franking, V. 389-
postage as a tax, XXI. 117.
Post-Horse, an inlet near the coast of
Celebes, XVIII. 485.
Post-Horse, XI. 595.
Posterior, XVIIL 485.
Postern, in fortification, XVIII. 485.
Posthumous, XVIIL 485. ,
Posticum, in architecture, III. 469.
Postil, XVIIL 485.
Postillions, rocks, XVIIL 485.
Postliminium, XVlil. 485.
Postulate, XVIII. 498 ; XIII. 444.
Potaliese, in botany, V. 120.
Potameie, in botany, V. 137.
Potamon of Alexandria, XVIII. 498.
Potance of a watch, VI. 786.
Potaroo, in zoology, XIV. 128.
Potash, XVIIL 498 ; VI. 393-saltsof,
445—saccharate of, 472—gunpowder
from oxymuriate of, XI. 83—specific
gravity of salts of, XII. 34—poison¬
ous quality of, XIV. 502—optical pro¬
perties of sulphate of, XVI. 491.
Potash-alum, II. 572.
Potassium, VI. 392—Davy’s discovery
of, VII. 639—sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Potato, XVIIL 498; XII. 488 —in-
troduction of, II. 259—culture of,
261, 285; XI. 669—varieties of, II.
285—constituents of, IV. 300—starch
of, VI. 477—state of the people where
it forms the sole food, VII. 394—dis¬
liked in Lombardy, XIII. 483—its
culture in Mexico, XIV. 800—distil¬
lation from, in Norway, XVI. 267.
Potato-bread, IV. 299, 302.
Potato-flour, machine for the grinding
of, II. 355.
Potato-scoop, II. 355.
Potentia, XVIII. 499.
Potential, XVIII. 499.
Potentilleae, in botany, V. 107.
Pothier, his share in drawing up the
Code Napoleon, XIII. 184.
P jtidnea, Socrates at, XX. 441.
Potiphar, Xyill. 499 ; XVII. 379
Potomac, American river, XVIII. 499i
XIV. 271.
Potos^in zoology, XIV. 107.
Potosi, in Bolivia, XVIII. 499—silver-
mines of, IV. 749; XV. 264—cli¬
mate, IV. 750—population, 751.
 ', town in Missouri, XV. 304.
Potowatomies, their marriage-customs,
II. 620—their cannibalism, 621.
Potsdam, in Prussia, XVIII. 499.
Potstone, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pott (Mr), on alum, II. 571.
 (Percival), his surgical improve¬
ments, XX. 830.
Potten, in Bedfordshire, XVIII. 500.
Potter (Christopher), XVIII. 500.
  (Humphrey), XX. 624.
 (John), archbishop, XVIII. 500.
  (Mr), his microscope, XV. 41,
50—on test-objects, 54.
Pottery, XVIII. 500 ; XIV. 508-
earthen vessels used by the Romans
in building, III. 260—chipping of,)I-
589—Delft-ware, VII. 682—cooling-
vessels, 58—manufacture of tobacco-
pipes, XXI. 318—potteries in China,
VI. 578; England, VIII. 779 ; Staf¬
fordshire, XX. 558,559. See Glazing
Porcelain.
Pottinger (Lieut.), his travels in Asia,
III. 632, n. 3; IV. 559—on the cha¬
racter of tiie Asiatics, III. 693—h's
account of Sinde, XX. 361-5.
Pouchon-tea, XXI. 131.
Pouillet (Mons.), on the eleetricity deve-
loped in combustion, VIII. 605; and vj
vegetables, 608—bis hygrometer, XI •
124—on magnetic metals, XlH.
—on the power of different substan< ‘
POU—PKE
as conductors of electricity, XXI.
075—on thermo-electricity, 697.
Poultice, XXI. 61*3, n. 3.
Poulton, in Lancashire, XVIII. 502.
Pocltby, XVIII. 502—management of,
II. 341—artificial hatching of, XIX.
81—poultry-houses, II. 272.
Pound, weight, XVIII. 502—standard
Troy pound, XXI. 845.
 (Mr), V. 171.
*  , money, XVIII. 502—degrada¬
tion of pound sterling, XV. 399.
Poundage, XVIII. 502; XXI. 334.
Poupard’s counter-balance, XXI. 637.
Poussin (Nicholas),-painter, XVIII. 502
—character of his works, III. 648,
649 ; XVI. 723.
 (Gaspae), painter, XVIII. 502.
Pouteou, island, XVIII. 502.
Poverty Bay,,XVIII. 502.
Powally, Hindu town, XVIII. 502.
Po WANG HUE, XVIII. 502.
Powder. See Gunpowder.
Powders, electricity of, VIII. 602.
Power, mechanical, XIV. 356—of . men,
426—of horses, 430—notion of, 632.
See Dynamics, Force.
Power-loom, VII. 408 ; XXI. 830, 933
—history of the, X. 558.
Powhattans, II. 617, 620.
Poyais, XI. 19.
Poynings (Sir Edward), his government
of Ireland, XII. 361.
Pozzallo, XV. 702.
Pea am, XVIII. 503.
Pracels, islands, XVIII. 502.
Prasmcnire, in law, XVIII. 502.
Pe^neste, in Latium, XVIII. 502.
Prseter-perfect tense, X. 059, 661.
Prajter-imperfect tense, X. 659, 661.
Pbjetor, XVIII. 529.
Pragmatic Sanction, XVIII. 502.
Prague, XVIII. 502—besieged by Fre¬
derick III., XVIII. 673.
Prairie du Rocher, XII. 248.
Prairies, American, XXI. 541—of Illi¬
nois, XII. 247 ; Indiana, 265 ; Loui¬
siana, XIII. 571.
Praise, love of, I. 382.
Prase, a mineral, V. 786 ; XV. 157.
Prasium, specific gravity of, XII. 34i
Peaslin, island, XVIII. 504.
Prasocuris, insect, IX. 184
Peatinas, Greek poet, XVIII. 503.
Pratincole, bird, XVI. 628.
Prato, Italian city, XVIII. 503.
Peatt (Charles), earl of Camden,XVIII.
503.
Pratus Isles, XVIII. 504.
Pbaxagobas, historian, XVIII. 504.
•  -, anatomist, II. 687—his skill in
surgery, XX. 822.
Praxiteles, Greek sculptor, XVIII.
504—his statues, XX. 7.
Prayer, XVIII. 504; XII. 337—for the
dead, 752, n.—enjoined by Mahom-
med, XIV. 38.
PRE AD AMITE, XVIII. 506.
Prebelow Islands, XIX. 590.
Prebend, XVIII. 506; VIII. 789.
Prebendary, XVIII. 506.
Precedence, XVIII. 506.
Precession of the Equinoxes, XVIII.
507 ; III. 767—discovered by Hip¬
parchus, 731—Laplace’s discoveries
relative to, 752.
Precocity of talent, a dangerous gift,
XIV. 585.
Precordia, XVIII. 514.
Predecessor, XVIII. 514.
Predestination, XVIII. 514—a Ma-
hommedan doctrine, XIV. 37.
Predetermination, XVIII. 516,
Peedicables, XVIII. 516; III. 510.
Predicaments, XVIII. 516; III. 510.
Preetz, Danish town, XVIII. 516.
Pre-existence, XVI1T. 516.
Preface, XVIII. 517.
Prefect, XVIII. 518; X. 215.
Pregel, river, XVIII. 090.
Pregnancy, limits and signs of, XIV.
494—a bar to execution of a criminal,
XIV. 513. See Gestation.
INDEX.
125
PIIE-—PRI
Prehension, XVII. 580—organs of, XIV-
86. See Hand.
Prehnite, XV. 150—pyro-electricity of,
VIII. 598—sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Prejudice, XVIII. 518.
Prelate, XVIII. 518.
Preliminary, XVIII. 518.
Prelude, in music, XVIII. 518.
Premises, in logic, XVIII. 518; XIII.
446.
Premium, XVIII. 518.
Premnas, fish, XII. 176.
Premonstrantes, XVIII. 518.
Prenomen, XVIII. 518.
Prenzlow, Prussian city, XVIII. 518.
Preparation, XVIII. 518.
Prepositions, in grammar, XVIII.
518 ; X. 672, 677, 685.
Prepuce, II. 825.
Prerau, Moravian city, XVIII. 518.
Prerogative, XVIII. 518.
 (Royal), XVIII. 518—in Eng¬
land, IX. 20, 37.
Presage, XVIII. 523.
Presburg, Austrian city, XVIII. 523.
Presbyopia, XVII. 671.
Presbytze, disease, XVIII. 523.
Presbyter, XVIII. 523; XL 489, et
seq.; XII. 263.
Presbyterian Church in Ireland, XII.
399—in Scotland, XIX. 763 ; XI.
559.
Presbyterians, XVIII. 523—persecu¬
tion of, in Scotland, XIII. 214. See
Covenanters, Episcopacy.
Prescience, XVIII. 527; XIV. 699.
Prescot, in Lancashire, XVIII. 527.
Prescription, XVIII. 527.
Presence, XVIII. 527.
Present Tense, in grammar, XVIII.
527 ; X. 658, 660.
Presentation, XVIII. 527 —of the
Virgin, ib.—of Our Lady, 528.
Presently, VIII. 10.
Preservation offood, IX. 727.
Presidencies (Indian), XI. 463.
President, XVIII. 528—Lord Presi¬
dent of the Council, ib.
Press,machine, XVIII. 528—Founder’s
— Inlayer’s—Joiner’s—Liquor—Rol¬
ling—Binder’s -Woollen-cloth, ib.—
Bramah’s hydrostatic press, XU.
107 ; II. 114 ; IV. 387 ; VI. 19—print¬
ing-press, XVIII. 549, 559, 570.
 (Liberty of the). See Liberty.
Pressing, XVIII. 528—ofprintedsheets,
XVIII. 562.
Pressirostres, birds, XVI. 616.
Pressure, mechanical action of, VIII.
345—composition of pressures, 358—
electricity produced by, 600—of fluids,
XII. 10—of water in pipes, 59-—ex¬
citement and propagation of, XX.
565. See Hydrodynamics.
Presteign, Welsh town, XVIII. 528.
Prester, meteor, XVIII. 528.
 John, XVIII. 528 ; II. 36 ; IV.
571; X. |07 ; XI. 482 ; XVI. 105.
Presto, in music, XVIII. 528.
Preston, town in Lancashire, XVIII.
528— battle of, V. 375.
 (Mr) on English law, XIII. 195.
Prestonpans, Scottish town, XVIII.
529— battle of, V. 381.
Prestwick, in Lancashire, XVIII. 529.
Presumptive heir, III. 293.
Pretender (The). See Charles Edward.
Preterite, XVIII. 529.
Preterit ion, XVIII. 529.
Pretext, XVIII. 529.
Pretexta (Toga), XVIII. 529.
Pretor, or Pr/etor, XVIII. 529.
Pretorian Guards, XVIII. 529.
PRETORIUM,Or Pr^etorium, XVIII. 529.
Prevost (Benedict), his experiments on
dew, VII. 751.
 (Sir G.), V. 538.
Prevot, romances of, XIX. 353.
Priacanthus, fish, XII. 169.
Priam, king of Troy, XVIII. 529—cha¬
racter of, 150.
Priaman, in Sumatra, XVIII. 529.
Priapus, XVIII. 529.
PRI
Price (Richard), D.D., XVIII. 529—his
work on the Principal Questions in
Morals, I. 361—considered the under¬
standing as an independent source of
simple ideas, 362—does not explain
the independence of the conscience
on the will, ib.—on the size of farms,
II. 346—on Reversionary Payments,
III. 199, 200—on the population of
England, VIII. 797—on mortality,
XV. 516, 518, 538, 546, 547, 554 ;
XVIII. 420, et seq.
 (William), X. 565.
Prices, computation of, III. 553—in an¬
cient Athens, IV. 171—effect of in¬
crease of precious metals on, VII. 159
—effects of bank-notes on, 160—effects
of war-expenditure on, 161, 172—ef¬
fect of high price of provisions on
wages, 345—prices of grain in Eng¬
land from 1646 to 1826, 356—effects
of subdivision of land on price of raw
produce, 386—by what regulated,
XVIII. 288—in .Switzerland, XXI.
50—effect of indirect taxes on, 110—
prices of food used in Greenwich Hos¬
pital from 1800 to 1835, 937. See
Corn-Laws, Taxation.
Prichard (Dr), on the unity of the hu¬
man species, II. 134—on the indigen¬
ous Americans, 616—on the Celtic
nations, VI. 275, 276—on the Physi¬
cal History of Man, XIV. 194, 203 —
on insanity, 578, et seq.—on phreno¬
logy, XVII. 469, 471.
Pricking, in veterinary science, XXI.
618.
Prickles of plants, III. 69 ; V. 33.
Priest, XVIII. 531. See Clergy.
Priesthood, Greek, IV. 171.
Priestley (Joseph), XVIII. 531—his
opinion of Hartley’s theory, I. 171—
on the composition of the atmosphere,
IV. 134—burning of his house by a
mob at Birmingham, 648 ; V. 460—
his chemical discoveries, VI. 349—on
expansion from electricity, VIII. 624
—on the chemical power of electricity,
628—Horsley’s controversy with, XI.
626—denies instincts, XII. 297, 301,
303—at Leeds, XIII. 164—on matter,
XIV. 653—on materialism, 671, et seq.
—on necessity, 690—his eudiometer,
XVII. 531—on the changes produced
on air by vegetation, XXI. 575, 577—
his experiments on the composition
of water, 818.
Prieto, VI. 544.
Pride, XVIII. 530. See Arrogance.
 (Colonel), V. 332.
Prideaux (Humphry), XVIII. 530.
Prim.® Vi«, XVIII. 533.
Primary, XVIII. 533.
 Rocks, XV. 188; XVII. 50
Primate, XVIII. 533.
Primaticcio, painter, XVI. 710.
Prime, XVIII. 533.
Primer Seisin, in law, XVIII. 533.
Primine, III. 100.
Primine sac, in botany, V. 46.
Priming, XVIII. 533.
Primipilus, XVIII. 533.
Primitive, XVIII. 533.
Primitive, XVIII. 533—metals in pri¬
mitive rocks, XV, 277.
Primogeniture, XVIII. 533—right of,
not recognised by the French law of
succession, VII. 392.
Primula, culture of, XI. 684.
Primulaceai, in botany, V. 52, n., 124.
Primum Mobile, XVIII. 534.
Prince, XVIII, 534.
Prince’s Metal, XVIII. 534.
Prince of Wales’s Island, XVIII. 534.
Prince’s Isle, XVIII. 535.
Prince Edward Island, XII. 590—Lord
Selkirk’s colony on, VIII. 690, 691.
Prince William’s Islands, XVIII. 535.
Prince William Henry’s Island, in
the Pacific Ocean, XVIII. 535.
Princess Royal’s Harbour, in New
Holland, XVIII. 535.
I Princeton, in New Jei’sey, XII. 543. .
PM—PRO
Principal, XVIII. 535—Point, Ray, ib.
Principle, XVIII. 536.
Pringle (Sir John), XVIII. 536—letter
of, to Forbes of Culloden, about Alex.
Cunningham’s papers, VII. 547—on
antiseptics, XVIII. 743.
Prinkipo, island, XVIII. 536.
Priusep (Mr), on the pyrometer, XVIII.
750, 753.
Printing, XVIII. 537—invention of,
IV. 622—opportuneness and effects
of invention of, 625 ; I. 17; XIII.
294—books before the invention of,
IV. 622—early, 624—for the blind,
697 —in colours, V. 87 —Bramah’s
project of printing by a roller, 182-
correction of proofs, VII. 876—print¬
ing in Egypt, VIII. 529—in Turkey,
XXI. 426—its history in Glasgow, X.
551—works on the origin and progress
of, in Earl Spencer’s library, XIII.
300 — printing-ink, XII. 280—Italic
character, XIV. 237—printing of por¬
celain, XVIII. 436—printing-presses
and machines, 570. See Calico-print¬
ing, Bibliography, Copperplates, Li¬
thography,Wood-engraving, Logogra-
pliy, Type-founding.
Prints, XVIII. 578.
Priodon, fish, XII. 190.
Priodontes, in zoology, XIV. 14 3.
Prionii, insects, IX. 177.
Prionites, birds, XVI. 592.
 , fishes, XII. 173.
Prionodon, in zoology, XIV. 118.
Prionops, bird, XVI. 568.
Prionus, insect, IX. 178.
Prior, XVIII. 573.
  (Matthew), XVIII. 573—pas¬
sage from his Alma as to the seat of
the soul, I. 69—poetry of, XVIII. 172.
 (John), his striking-mechanism
of clocks, VI. 781.
Priories (Alien), XVIII. 573.
Priscianus, grammarian, XVIII. 578.
Prism, in geometry, XVIII. 573; X. 460
—in mineralogy, XV. 114,120—men¬
suration of, XIV. 572—method of cut¬
ting it from crystal, XV. 18—refrac¬
tion through, XVI. 388—Nicol’s, 477
—perspective of, XVII. 279.
Prismatic spectrum. See Spectrum.
Prismoid, XVIII. 573
Prisons, XVIII. 574—in China, VI. 559
—Edinburgh, VIII 428 — London,
XIII. 528—New York,.XVI. 192-
diet of, VIII. 22—Richmond Peni¬
tentiary, &e., in Dublin, 240—How¬
ard on, XI. 713—state of, XIV. 512.
See Penitentiaries.
Pristigaster, fish, XII. 215.
Pristina, Turkish city, XVIII. 590.
Pristipoma, fish, XII. 176.
Pristis, fish, XH, 234.
Pritchard (Mr), his microscope, XV.
28—his diamond lens, 29—his sap¬
phire lense- 30—on doublets, 36 —
his triplet, ib.—Ins microscope, 41—
on the oxyhydrogen microscope, 47.
Pritelwell, in Essex, XVIII. 590.
Privas, in France, XVIII. 590.
Privateers, in war, XVIII. 590.
Privative, in grammar, XVIII. 590.
Privet, XVII. 786.
Privy Council, XVIII. 590.
Prize, XVIII. 590.
Prize-money, XVI. 62.
Probability, XVIII. 591—calculation
of, I. 223—history of the doctrine of,
XIII. 100, 102. See Chance, Combi¬
nations.
 , in rhetoric, XIX. 207.
Probate of a will, XVIII. 640.
Probation, XVIII. 640.
Probationer, XVIII. 640.
Problem, in logic, XVIII. 640; XIII.
445—in geometry, XVIII. 640 ; X.
433, 451—of the Three Bodies, III.
749; IV. 57.
Probolingo, XVIII. 640.
Proboseidea, mammalia, XIV. 146.
Prohoscidea;, insects, IX. 258.
Proboscis of bees, IV. 519. See Trunk.
126
INDEX
PRO
Probus, reign of> XIX. 413—his visit to
Egypt, VIII. 476.
 JEmilius, XVI. 101.
Pbobt’s Island, XVIII. 640.
Procellaria, bird, XVI. 631.
Procerus, insect, IX. 130.
Process, XVIII. 640—in anatomy, ib.;
II. 742.
Procession, XVIII. 640.
Prochaska on injectible and noninject-
ible parts of the body, II. 731—on the
brain, 736—on the muscles, II. 738 ;
XVII. 608.
Proclamation, XVIII. 640.
Pboclus, XVIII. 640; X. 4275 XIV. 315.
Procnias, bird, XVI. 571.
Proconsul, XVIII. 640.
Procopius, XVIII. 640 5 VII. 278.
Procris, insect, IX. 244.
Proctor, XVIII. 640—proctors at Ox¬
ford, XXI. 496.
Procuration, XVIII. 640.
Procton, in astronomy, XVIII. 640.
—  , in zoology, XIV. 106.
Prodicus, sophist, XVIII. 640.
Product, XVIII. 640.
Productus, in conchology, XV. 344.
Proedri, XVIII. 640.
Professions, their influence on health,
XIV. 509.
Professors, XVIII. 640—declamation
of, VII. 663—at Paris, XXI. 487 5
Bologna, 491; Oxford, 495.
Professorships at Oxford, XXI. 497 5
Cambridge, 503 ; St Andrews, 511;
Glasgow, 514; Aberdeen, 516, 518;
Edinburgh, 521; Dublin, 524.
Profile, XVIII. 640.
Profits of trade, VII. 167—of mercan¬
tile speculation, 168—effect of, on rate
of interest, XII. 320—advantage of
high, XVIII. 281—their rate the true
test of advantage of employments,
286—equality of, 288—vary inversely
us wages, 296—effect of fluctuation of
wages on, ib.—definition and theory
of, 299—taxes on, XXI. 102—lowered
by taxes on raw produce, 114.
Prognosis, in medicine, XIV. 520.
Prooramma, XVIII. 640.
Progression, XVIII. 640.
Projectiles, XVIII. 641—resistance of
the air to, 115.
Projection, XVIII. 656—construction
of maps by, X. 413—its nature illus¬
trated, XII. 606. .
 of the Sphere, XVIII. 656.
 (Powder of), XVIII. 658.
Projectore, XVIII. 658.
Prolapsus, in surgery, XVIII. 658.
Prolate, in geometry, XVIII. 658.
Prolation, XVIII. 658.
Prolegomena, XVIII. 658.
Prolepsis, in rhetoric, XVIII. 658.
Proleptic diseases, XVIII. 658.
Prolixity of style, occasions when use¬
ful, VIII. 256.
Prologue, in poetrj', XVIII. 658.
Promaucians, VI. 539.
Prome, XVIII. 658 ; V. 567.
Promerops, bird, XVI. 591.
Prometheus, XVIII. 658, 659.
Promise, XVIII. 659—duty of perform¬
ance of, XV. 476.
Promissory note, IX. 456.
Promontory, in geography, XVIII.
659 ; X. 408.
Prompter, in theatres, XVIII. 659.
Promulgated, XVIII. 659.
Pronceus, insect, IX. 229,
Pronaos, XVIII. 659; III. 469.
Pronouns,.XVIII. 659; X. 648, 683-
relative, 686—Condillac on the pro¬
noun, VII. 205.
Pronunciation, in grammar, XVIII.
659 ; XVII. 683.
Prony (Baron de), on running water,
xil. 6—on logarithms, XIII. 4'20—
on mechanics, XIV. 355—his conden¬
ser of forces, 419—his formulae repre¬
senting law of relation between the
temperature and elasticity of steam,
XX. 594.
PRO
Proof, XVIII. 659.
Proof-houses, XI. 37.
Propagation of fruit, XI. 634—of ani¬
mals; see Generation, Reproduction.
Propago, a kind of bud, III. 89.
Propertius (Sextus Aurelius), XVIII.
659—poetry of, XVIII. 154.
Property, XVIII. 659 — necessity of
existence of, VIII. 400 — effects of
security of, XVIII. 274 —utility of
right of, 276—its effect on the pro¬
gress of population, XVIII. 414-
right of, 426.
 (Literary). See Copyright.
Property-tax, V. 521; XXI. 109—re¬
turns under the* VII. 167.
Prophecy, XVIII. 663—different ways
of fulfilment of, II. 89—evidence of
Christianity from, VI. 621—false, XX.
812-13.
Prophets, XVIII. 663—Druidical, VIII.
209—views of the Mahommedans re¬
specting, XIV. 33.
Propitiation, XVIII. 663; XXI. 226.
Propolis of bees, IV. 524.
Propontis, XVIII. 663.
Proportion, XVIII. 663—in algebra,
II. 438—in arithmetic, ib.; III. 551
—in geometry, II. 439 ; X. 441—pro¬
portions of figures, 444—problems re¬
specting, 453. See Progression.
 (Harmonical), XVIII. 663.
 (Inordinate), XVIII. 663.
Proportional, XVIII. 663.
Proportionals, XVIII. 663.
Propositions, in logic; XVIII. 653—
affirmative and negative, XIII. 440—
universal and particular, 441—singu¬
lar, 442—absolute and conditional, ib.
—simple and compound, 443—copu¬
lative and disjunctive, ib.—self-evident
and demonstrable, ib. — universal,
XIV. 625.
 , in mathematics, XVIII. 663;
X. 433.
Profrefect, XVIII. 664.
PropreTor, XVIII. 664.
Propriety, VII. 217.
Propylaeum, III. 436, 469—propylaea in
ancient Athens, IV. 120.
Pro Rata, in commei-ce, XVIII. 664.
Prorogation, XVIII. 664.
Proscupia insect, IX. 192.
Prose, XVIII. 664.
Prosecutor (public) of criminals, in
Scotland, XIX. 759.
Proserpine, XVIII. 664.
Proseuche, XVIII. 664.
Proslambanomenos, XVIII. 664.
Prosody, XVIII. 664.
Prosopopceia, in oratory, XVIII. 664.
Prostate gland, XVII. 688—its struc¬
ture, II. 825.
Prostitutes, XI. 148—the London thea¬
tres infested by, VIII. 179—of ancient
Athens, XX. 437, 439.
Prostitution, XIV. 509—among the Ba-
zeegurs, IV. 469—in India, XI. 401—
in Baris, XVII. 81—in London,
XVIII. 251—in Trance, 255—in an¬
cient times, 336.
Prostomis, insect, IX. 177.
Prostyle, XVIII. 664 ; III. 469.
Prosznitz, Austrian city, XVIII. 664.
Protagoras, XVIII. 664 ; XX. 448.
Protasis, XVIII. 665.
Proteacese, in botany, V. 126.
Protection, in jurisprudence, XII. 636.
Proteinus, insect, IX. 138.
Protestant Association, V. 412.
Protestants, XVIII. 665—French, X.
202—Russian, XIX. 581—their into¬
lerance towards the Catholics in the
reign of James I., V. 308—persecu¬
tion of, in Mary’s reign, VIII. 755—
origin of the name, XIX. 89—much
superstition among, XX. 312.
Proteus, Egyptian deity, VIII. 545 ; XI.
324.
 Anguinus, XIII. 340.
 , genus of animalcules, III. 187.
 , reptile, XIX. 161—structure of,
XVII. 715.
PRO—PSA
Prothonotary, XVIII. 665.
Proto, Greek prefix, XVIII. 665.
Protogenes, ancient Greek painter,
XVIII. 665; XVI. 702,704—his inter¬
course with Apelles, III. 281.
Prototype, XVIII. 665.
Protractor, XVIII. 665.
Prout’s arrangement of articles of food,
XVII. 625.
Proveditor, XVIII. 665.
Provencal language, XIV. 262—poetry',
XVIII. 157, 164.
Provence, in France, XVIII. 665.
Provender, XVIII. 665. See Food.
Proverb, XVIII. 665.
Proverbs (Book of), in the Old Testa¬
ment, XVIII. 665; II. 360.
Providence, XVIII. 655i
• , the capital town of Rhode
Island, XVIII. 668.
 , island, XVIII. 669.
 (New), island, XVIII. 669.
 (Old), island, XVIII. 669.
Providential Channel, XVIII. 669.
Province, in geography, XVIII. 669.
Provincial, XVIII. 669.
Provins, in France, XVIII. 669.
Provisions, preservation of, IX. 727—
. consumption of, in London, XIII. 505
Irish provision-trade, XII. 405. See
Cookery, Dietetics, Food.
Provost, XVIII. 669—Grand, ib.—of
the Mint, ib.
Provost-Marshal, XVIII. 669.
Prow of a ship, XVIII. 669.
Proximity, XVIII. 669.
Prudence, XVIII. 669 ; XV. 465-Aris-
totle on. III. 523.
PrudentiUs, poet, XVIII. 669.
Prudhom, painter, XVI. 723.
Prunelle (Monsieur), on the practice Of
physic, XIV. 529.
Pruning, in gardening, XVIII. 669.
Prusias, XVII. 229.
Prussia, XVIII. 670—Royal Academy
of Sciences, II. 70—army, III. 605—
wars with Austria, IV. 220—policy of
Austria towards, 238—coast of, 329—
botanists of, V. 81—invasion of Hol¬
land in 1787, 447—invasion of France
in 1792,465—subsidized by Britain in
1794, 474 — cotton-manufacture of,
VII. 420—statistics of, IX. 416—Na¬
poleon’s war with, X. 141—French
trade with, 190—language of, XIII.
89—legislation in, 192—variation of
the needle in, 733—coins of, XV. 408,
411—births and deaths in, 536—po¬
lice of, XVIII. 256—increase of popu¬
lation in, 411—penal code, 737—re¬
gistration of births, &e., XIX. 104—
religion, 315—silk-manufacture, XX.
343—weights and measures, XXI.
855—voluntary starvation of a Prus¬
sian recruit, VIII. 23—map of Prussia,
XVIII. PI. 418.
Prussic or hydrocyanic acid, VI. 433—
poisonous quality °f> XIV. 505 ;
XVIII. 177.
Pruym, Prussian city, XVIII. 701.
Prynne (William), XVIII. 701; V. 315
—prosecution of, IV. 629—Hume’s
injustice to, ib.
Prytanes, Greek presidents, XVIII.
701—of Athens, IV. 167.
Przrmysl, XVIII. 701.
Psalm, XVIII. 701—Joel Barlow’s ver¬
sion of the Psalms, IV. 381.
Psalmanazar (George), XVIII. 701.
Psalmist, XVIII. 702.
Psalmody, XVlII. 702.
Psalter, XVIII. 702.
Psalterium, XVIII. 702.
Psammeticus, XVIII. 702 ; VIII. 467.
Psatnmeuitus, a king of ancient Egypt,
VIII. 468.
Psammodius, insect, IX. 154.
Psammcecus, insect, IX. 181.
Psammophis, serpent, XX. 140.
Psaris, bird, XVI. 568.
Psarus, insect, IX. 272.
Psatyrians, an ancient sect of Arians
XVIII. 702.
PSE—PUB
Pselaphii, insects, IX. 187,
Pselaphus, insect, IX. 187.
Psellus (Michael), of Constantinople,
XVIII. 702—on demons, III. 295, n.
Psen, insect, IX. 230.
Psenes, fish, XII. 186.
Psettus, fish, XII. 179,
Pseudo, Greek prefix, XVIH. 702.
Pseudobdella, worm, XI. 226.
Pseudo-bombyces, insects, IX, 248.
Pseudo-dipteral, a term in architecture,
III. 469.
Pseudonymous, XVIII. 702.
 Books, IV. 627.
Pseudo-peripteral, III. 469.
Pseudo-prostyle, III. 469.
Pseudopus, serpent, XX. 122.
Psila, insect, IX. 286.
Psillomellane, a mineral, XV. 163.
Psilopus, insect, IX. 277.
Psilota, insect, IX. 274.
Psittacara, bird, XVI. 600.
Psittaculus, bird, XVI. 603.
Psittacus, bird, XVI. 600, 603.
Psoa, insect, IX. 176.
Psochus, insect, IX. 214.
Psophia, bird, XVI. 618.
Psyche, IX. 88.
Psychoda, insect, IX. 260.
Psychology, XIV. 599.
Psychrometer, XVII. 533.
Psylla, insect, IX. 204.
Psylli, XVIII. 703 ; XX. 127.
Psyra, island, X. 749.
Ptarmigan, bird, XVI. 611.
Ptarmigan-shooting, XX. 317.
Pteraclis, fish, XII. 187.
Pterocera, mollusea, XV. 347.
Pterochile, insect, IX. 231.
Pteroeles, bird, XVI. 611.
Pterodactylus, bones of, III. 15.
Pteroglossus, bird, XVI. 599.
Pterois, fish, XII. 174.
Pteromys, in zoology, XIV. 130.
Pterophorites, insects, IX. 253.
PterophOrUs, insect, IX. 253.
Pteropoda, mollusca, XV. 354.
Pteropus, in zoology, XIV. 99.
Ptilinus, insect, IX. 145.
Ptiniores, insects, IX. 145.
Ptinus, insect, IX. 145.
Ptolemais, XVIII. 703. See Acre.
Ptolemy, hieroglyphical characters of,
XI. 325.
 (CeraUnus), XVIII. 703.
— (Claudius ), ancient astronomer,
XVIII. 703 —his improvements in
arithmetic, I. 587—his astronomical
tables corrected by order of Alphouso
III., II. 557—his astronomy, 1.482-3;
III. 732; IV. 15, 41—its overthrow,
III. 737—Arabian translation of his
works’, 734—on refraction, 762—on
climates, VI. 744—on geography, X.
394, 426—his account of Ireland, XII.
349—on optics, XVI. 348 ; I. 504.
  I., Soter or Lagus, king of
Egypt, XVIII. 703; XIII. 64t,e( m-
—reign of, VIII 470.
 II., Fhiladelphus, XVIII. 703
—reign of, VIII. 470—the study of
anatomy encouraged by, II. 688t Seo
‘ Septuagint.
 III., Euergetes, VIII. 470.
 IV., Philopater, VIII. 471.
 V., Epiphanes, VIII. 471.
 VI., Philometer, VIII. 472.
 VII., Lathyrus, VIII.‘473.
 VIII., Alexander II., VIH. 474.
 IX., AuleteS, VIII/474.
   X., Dionysius, VIII. 475.
 Physcon, VIII. 472—his cruelties
at Alexandria, II. 410.
Ptyalism, in medicine, XVIII. 703.
Ptychoptera, insects, IX. 261.
Ptyodaetyli, reptiles, XIX. 147.
Puberty, XVIII. 703 ; XIV. 206;
XVII. 689-90.
Pubis (os), II. 767.
Publishing of books, VII. 3l 5.
Publius Syrus, an ancient write? of
, farces, XVIII. 703.
Pubna, Hindu town, XVIII. 703.
INDEX
127
PUC—PUN
Puce-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 337.
Pdchmauy, Hindu town, XVIII. 703.
Pdckholi, Hindu town, XVIII. 703.
Pccooloe, Hindu town, XVIII. 703.
Poddar, Hindu river, XVIII. 703.
Pcdsey, in Yorkshire, XVIII. 703.
Pdddcotta, Hindu town, XVIII. 703.
Puebla (La), Mexican state, XIV. 815.
Pueoos, island, XVIII. 703.
Puerto la Mar, IV. 751.
Puerto-Real,Spanish city, XVIII. 703
Puff-bird, XVI. 599.
Puffendorf (Samuel de), jurist and his¬
torian, XVIII. 703; I. 88.
Puffin, bird, XVI. 630.
Puffinus, bird, XVI. 632.
Pugatschef, VI. 215.
Pugin’s Specimens of Pointed Architec¬
ture, III. 431.
Pugnet on the plague, XVII. 773,etseq.
PBGNIATAIf, VIII. 700.
Puharrees, XI. 393.
Puiseaux, blind man of, IV. 701.
Pul, III. 717.
Polarim, island, XVIII. 704.
Pulaski, in Tennessee, XXI. 183.
Pulawt, Polish city, XVIII. 704.
Pulci (Luigi), VIII. 274—poetry of,
XVIII. 159.
Pulein (Robert), XXI. 492.
Pulex, insect, IX. 294.
Pulley, XIV. 365, 430.
Pullicat, Hindu city, XVIII. 704.
Pullicat handkerchiefs, manufacture of,
VII. 408.
Pclmary, Hindu town, XVIII. 704.
Pulmonifera, mollusca, XV. 356.
Pulo, XVIII. 704—Pulo Akat, &c. &c.,
ib.—Pulo Penang, XVIII. 534—Pulo
Pisang, IV. 340—PuloWay.ib.—Pulo
Rondo, ib.
Pulpit, XVIII. 705—declamation of
the, VII. 663.
Pulpitum, XVIII. 705.
Pulse, in physiology, XVIII. 705 —
effects of electricity on the, VIII. 639
—of the horse, XXI. 613, m. 5.
Pulse-glass, XX. 576.
Pultawa, in Russia, XVIII. 706 —
battle of, XIX. 545.
Pulteney (William), XVIII. 706.
 (Sir William), XXI. 171.
Pultneytown, V. 781; XXI. 878.
Pulverization, XVIII. 706.
Pulvinated, in architecture, HI. 470.
Pulnnuli, in botany, V. 57.
Puma, XIV. 122 ; VI. 525 ; XVII. 552.
Pumice-stone, in mineralogy, XV. 157
—specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pumice-Stone River, XVIII. 706.
Pumiced foot, XXI. 619.
Pdmp, XVIII. 707, 71, 96; XII. 96—
Galileo’s observations on, IV.. 385 
Bramah's, V. 182-for collieries, VII.
82—Galileo’s explanation of, XVII.
444. See Air-pump.
Pump-aneometer, III. 372.
Pun, XVIII. 728.
Punch, XVIII. 728.
 •, in tile drama, origin..f, VIII. 158.
Puncheon, XVIII. 729.
Punctuation, XVIII. 729. See Com¬
ma, Semicolon, &e.
Punctum Saliens, XVIII. 730.
^   Stans, XVIII. 730.
’unda, Hindu town, XVIII. 730.
’underpoor, XVIII. 730.
’unduah, Hindu town, XVIII. 730.
’unganoor, Hindu town, XVIII. 730
unic wars, VI. 189, et seq. ; XI. 476-1
"SS1, XI:X' 385”vSecon,l. 386—third,
PUN—P YE
388.
’UNISHMENT, XVIII. 731; XII. 640 ;
JUV. 512—Beccaria on, IV. 503 
of heresy, VII. 447-Blackstone on,
AHI. 132, 170—in the Mosaic law,
av 566 -capital punishments in
England and Wales, VIII. 803. See
_ Crime, Prisons.
’pnjab, XVIII. 739 j xill 19
pno, in Peru, XVIII. 739
nut, IV. 722.
'nut-shooting, XX. 308.
Punugga, XVIII. 740.
Pupa, in conchology, XV. 347.
 — of insects, IX. 87.
Pupacea, in conchology, XV. 347.
Pupadae, in conchology, XV. 358.
Pupil of the eye, XVII. 667—its con¬
tractions, II. 799—in various animals,
III. 24. ’
Pupivora, insects, IX. 218.
Purbach (George), astronomical labours
of, I. 484; III. 736—his division of
the radius, 538 — mathematical la¬
bours of, X. 429.
Purbeck quarries, VIII. 120.
Purcell (Henry), XVIII. 740.
Purchas (Samuel), XVIII. 740.
PURDHAUNGER, XVIII. 740.
Purdie’s Isles, XVIII. 740.
Pureg, Persian village, XVIII. 740.
Purfleet powder-magazine, VI. 261.
Purflew, in heraldry, XVIII. 740.
Purgation, XVIII. 740.
Purgatives for domestic animals, XXI.
614—gum-resins, VI. 491.
Purgatory, XVIII. 740.
Purification, XVIII. 741—a Mahom-
medan rite, XIV. 37.
Purim, Jewish festival, XVIII. 741.
Puritans, XVIII. 741; XII. 260-under
James I., V. 303—their hostility to
the stage, VIII. 170.
Purkinje on the effect of galvanism on
the eye, XXI. 681.
Purlins, in building, XVIII. 741—best
manner of framing, VI. 162.
Purmann, German surgeon, XX. 829.
Purneah, in Bengal, XVIII. 741.
Purple, in crayon-painting, VII. 453—
Tyrian, VIII. 295, 296—dyeingof, 335.
Purpura, in conchology, XV. 347.
Purpure, in heraldry, XVIII. 741: XI.
244.
Purpurea, XV. 374.
Purpuric acid, VI. 431.
Purrah, Hindu town, XVIII. 742.
Purre, bird, XVI. 623.
Purser (ship’s), XVIII. 742; XVI. 53.
Purslane, XI. 675.
Pursuits, in war, XXI. 753.
Purulent, in medicine, XVIII. 742
Purveyance, levying of, II. 253.
Purview, XVIII. 742.
Pus, in medicine, XVIII. 742; XVII. 127.
Pustule, XVIII. 742.
Putamen, in botany, V. 47.
Puteoli, Italian town, XVIII. 742.
Putiwl, Russian city, XVIII. 742.
Putney, in Surrey, XVIII. 742.
Putrefaction, XVIII. 742—substances
which resist, III. 268; IX. 732, et seq.
—influence of electricity on, VIII. 633
PUTTAN SOMNANT, XVIII. 744.
Putty, XVIII. 744 ; V. 694 ; X. 574.
Puy (Le), in France, XVIII. 744.
Puy de Dome, in France, XVIII. 744.
Puzzolana, XIV. 289.
Terra, XVIII. 744.
PYE—QUA
to pull them down, II. 21—battle of
the, VIII. 489.
Pyramids, Mexican, XIV. 810.
Pyramidal bodies of the brain, II. 810.
Pyramidella, in conchology, XV. 347.
Pyramidoid, XVIII. 746.
Pyranga, bird, XVI. 571.
Pyrenaite, in mineralogy, XV. 159.
Pyrenees (Eastern), XVIII. 746.
 (Upper), XVIII. 746.
 — (Lower), XVIII. 746.
, mountains, XVIII. 746; HI.
Pwllheli, V. 772.
Pyanepsia, festival, XVIII. 744„
Pycnite, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pycnogonum, arachnides, HI. 366.
Pycnostyle, XVIII. 745 ; III. 470.
Pydna, battle of, XIX. 388.
Pygaugus, African animal, II. 228.
Pygmalion, XVIII. 745.
Pygmy, XVIII. 745.
Pykar, XVIII. 745.
Pyke, XVIII. 745.
Pylades, XVIII. 745 ; VII. 614.
Pyloric appendages, in fishes, HI. 38.
Pylorus, XVII. 630.
Pylos XVIII. 745 ; IV. 157.
Pylstart, island, XVIII. 745.
Pynson (Richard) printer, XVIII. 553.
Pyralis, insect, IX. 250.
Pyrallolite, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pyramid, in geometry, XVIII. 745; X.
460—how to develope, XII. 608—men¬
suration of, XIV. 572—perspective
of, XVII. 278, et seq.—in mineralogy,
XV. 115, e< seq.
Pyramids of Egypt, XVIII. 745 ; III.
410, 431; VIII. 547, 558—attempt
373 ; IX. 406; XX. 514—height of
the, XVII. 506.
Pyrgita, bird, XVI. 580.
Pyrgos, aqueduct of, HI. 318.
Pyrites, in mineralogy, XVIII. 747 •
XV. 166—in Devonshire, VII. 746 
specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pyrmont, German city, XVIII. 747.
Pyro-acetic spirit, VI. 438.
Pyrochlore, in mineralogy, XV. 160
specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pyrochroa, insect, IX. 167.
Pyroch^roides, insects, IX. 167.
Pyrocitric acid, VI. 429.
Pyro-electricity, VIII. 595.
Pyrokinic acid, VI. 430.
Pyrolignic acid, its power of preserving
animal food, IX. 734.
Pyrolusite, in mineralogy, XV. 164.
Pyromalie acid, VI. 429.
Pyromancy, XVIII. 747 ; VIII. 58
Pyrometer, XVIII. 747—invention of,
I. 646.
Pyromucic acid, VI. 429.
Pyrope, XV. 159—sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Pyrophorus, XVIII. 756.
Pyrophosphoric acid, VI. 380.
Pyrophysalite, sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Pyrorthite, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Pyroscope, VI. 760; I. 653.
Pyrosoma, mollusca, XV. 371.
Pyrotartaric acid, VI. 428.
Pyrotechny, XVIII. 756.
Pyrotics, in medicine, XVIH. 758.
Pyroxilic spirit, V 1^438.
Pyrrhic dance, Vlli 614.
Pyrrhica, XVIII. 758.
Pyrrhichius, in poetry, XVIII. 758.
Pyrrho, XVIII. 758. See Sceptics. '
Pyrrhocorax, bird, XVI. 574.
Pyrrhonic sect of ancient philosophers,
XVII. 431. See Sceptics.
Pyrrhula, bird, XVI. 581.
Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, IX. 312—his
war with the Romans, XIX. 383.
Pyrula, in conchology, XV. 346.
Pyruric acid, VI. 430.
Pyrus, species of trees, XVII. 788.
Pythagoras, XVIII. 759 ; X. 422;
XX. 821—philosophy of, HI. 495—
on the mystical properties of num¬
bers, 535—astronomy of, 728—absti¬
nence from beans enjoined by, IV.
471—many of his notions derived
from India, V. 180—his residence at
Crotona, VII. 482—resemblance be¬
tween his philosophy and that of the
Druids, VIII. 205—his mathematical
discoveries, XIV. 314; XVII. 430—
on vision, XVI. 348—school of, XVII.
724 ; XVIII. 14, 16.
Pythagoreans, XVIIL 761—supersti¬
tious notions held by, XIII. 680.
Pytheas, ancient navigator, XVIII. 761
—on astronomy. III. 729—his voy¬
ages, ib.; X. 390 ; XI. 201.
Pythia, XVIII. 761 ; VII. 689.
Pythian Games, XVIII. 761.
Pythias, VII. 609.
Pytho, insect, IX. 166.
Python, fabled serpent, XVIII. 761
its destruction by Apollo, III. 287.
■, in zoology, XX. 145.
QUA—QUE
Quacha, or Quagga, II. 227 ; XIV. 153.
Quackery, XVII. 495—means of sup¬
pressing, XIV. 527.
Quadi, XVIII. 762 ; VII. 275—marvel¬
lous story of a Roman victory over
the, HI. 271.
Quadragesima, XVIII. 762.
Quadrangle, XVIII. 762.
Quadrans, XVIII. 762.
Quadrant, XVIII. 762 ; X. 438—mu¬
ral, IV. 106—Hadley’s, I. 632; XV
774. ’
Quadrantal, XVIII. 762.
Quadrat, XVIII. 762.
Quadratic Equations, XVIII. 762-
II. 448. ’
Quadratrix, XVIII. 762.
Quadrature, XVIII. 762-of the Circle,
XX. 552.
Quadrel, XVIII. 762.
Quadriga, XVIII. 762.
Quadrilatera, Crustacea, VII. 501;
Quadrilateral, XVIII. 763—quadri¬
lateral bone in birds. III, 12.
Quadrille, XVIH. 763.
Quadrimani, insects, IX. 122.
Quadripartition, XVIII. 764.
Quadrumana,inzoology, XIV.88; XVIL
703—their bones, HI. 2, et seq.-—
muscles, 18—teeth, 32, 33-stomach,
35.
Quadrupeds, in zoology, XVIII. 764 
characteristics of, II. 707.
Quadruple, XVIII. 764.
  Alliance, V. 376.
Qu-estor, XVIII. 791.
Quagga, or Quacha, XIV. 153 ; II. 227.
Quail, XVI. 611.
Quakers, XVIII. 765—their affirma¬
tion equal in law to an oath, H. 210 -
their address to James II., V. 355 
their opposition to the slave-trade and
slavery, 448 ; XX. 384, 387. See
Barclay (Robert), Fox (Geo.)/Penn
(William).
Quality, XVIII. 773.
Qualities of matter, XIV. 646.
Qualla Moorba, XVIII. 774.
Qualoen, island, XIII. 112.
Quang-Ping, XVIII. 774.
Quangsee, in China, XVIII. 774.
Quangtong, XVIII. 774, 775.
Quans of Finmark, XIII. 107, 112.
Quantity, XVIII. 775—the idea of
quantities infinitely great and small
first introduced into geometry by Kep¬
ler, I. 438.
■, in grammar, XVIII. 780.
Pyxidium, in botany, V. 49.
Q
Q, letter of tho alphabet, XVIII. 762.
Quabenus, burning-mirrors of, V. 735.
Quarantine, XVIII. 780—quarantine-
establishments,XIV. 512—quarantine-
laws, XVII. 774, 776.
Quare’s repeating-watch, VI. 795.
Quarles (Francis), XVIII. 780—cha¬
racter of his poetry, 170.
Quarnaho Islands, XVIII. 781.
Quarry, XVIII. 781. See Blasting.
Quarrymen, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Quart, measure, XVIH. 781.
Quartan, XVIII. 781.
Quartation, XVIII. 781.
Quarter, XVIII. 781.
Quarterly Review, X. 517.
Quarter-Master, XVIH. 781.
Quarter-Master-General, XVIII
781 ; HI. 618.
Quarter-Sessions, XVIH.'781.
Quarters, XVIII. 781—Head—In¬
trenched—Winter, ib.
Quartering, in heraldry, XVIH. 782.
Quatetto, or Quartet, XVIH. 781.
Quartile, XVIII. 782.
Quartine, HI. 101.
Quarto-Decimans, XVIII. 782.
Quartu, XVIII. 782.
Quartz, XV. 156, 190—specific gravity
of, XII. 34—optical phenomenon of,
XVI. 428.
Quatre-Bras, XVIII. 782—battle of,
V. 540; XVI. 128.
Quatre-foil, III. 470.
Quatuorvir, XVIII. 782.
Quaver, in music, XVIII. 782.
Quebec XVIII. 782—climate of, II-
128
INDEX
QUE—QUI
613—talcen by General Wolfe, V. 385;
VI, 69 ; XXI. 913.
Qdeckni, Burmese town, XVIII. 784.
Qoeda, XVIII. 784.
Qcedlinbdrg, XVIII. 785.
Queen, XVIII. 785.
Queen Charlotte’s Island, in the
Pacific Ocean, XVIII. 785.
Queen Charlotte’s Islands, XVIII.
785 ; IV. 213; X. 262.
Queen Charlotte’s Sound, in New
Zealand, XVIII. 785.
Queen’s County, XVIII. 785.
Queenborough, XVIII. 787.
Queensfeery, XVIII. 787 ; IX. 767.
Queiling, Chinese city, XVIII. 788.
Quelpaert, island, XVIII. 788.
Quentin (St), in Prance, XVIII. 788—
cotton-manufacture of, VII. 417—
canal of, XVI. 7.
Quercitanus, VI. 347.
Quercitrin, VIII. 320.
Quercitron-bark, yellow dye-stuff, VIII.
320—colouring-matter of, VI. 485.
Queretaro, Mexican state, XIV. 814.
Querquedula, bird, XVI. 639.
Querula, bird, XVI. 570.
Quesan Islands, XVIII. 788.
Quesnay (Frangois), XVIII. 788 ; VIII.
399—on the vibrations of the nerves,
I. 171—on political economy, XVIII.
. 268—Adam Smith’s high opinion of,
XX. 416—on the incidence of taxes,
XXI. 97.
Quesne (Fort du), V. 384.
  (Marquis du), his expedition
against Algiers, II. 508.
Questor, or Qujestor, ancient Roman
officer, XVIII. 791.
Quetelet (Mons.), on magnetism, XIII.
698, 753, 762—on the population of
the Netherlands, XV. 533, 547, 557—
on the statistics of Belgium, XVI. 142.
Queue, in heraldry, XVIII. 791.
Quevedo de Villegas (Francisco),
XVIII. 791—poetry of, 163.
Quezal, bird, XVI. 599.
Quiberon, French town, XVIII. 791—
British expedition to, X. 97.
Quichua language, II. 628.
Quick or Quickset hedge, XVIII. 791.
Quicklime, XVIII. 791.
Quick-match, XVIII. 791.
Quicksands, in collieries, VII. 81.
Quicksilver. See Mercury.
Quid Pro Quo, XVIII. 791.
Quiddity, XVIII. 791.
Quietists, XVIII. 791; XV. 323.
Quillajese, in botany, V. 107.
Quillet (Claude), XVIII. 792.
Quillimane, African river, II. 232.
Quillota, XVIII. 792 ; VI. 539.
Quiloa, African kingdom, XVIII. 792.
Quimper, in France, XVIII. 793.
Quimperle, in France, XVIII. 793.
Quin (James), tragedian, XVIII. 793—
his friendship to Thomson, XXI. 249.
Quinarius, coin, XVIII. 793; XIV. 476.
Quinaut (Philip), XVIII. 793.
Quince, culture of, XI. 649.
Quince-trees, XVII. 789—specific gra¬
vity of wood of, XII. 34.
Quincunx, XVIII. 793—Order, ib.
Quindecagon, XVIII. 793.
Quindecemviri, XVIII. 793.
Quindioc, one of the Andes, III. 118,
119—pass of, II. 607.
Quinhone, harbour in Cochin-China,
XVIII. 793.
Quinin, VI. 463—salts of, 464.
Quinquagenarius, XVIII. 793.
Quinquaoesima Sunday, XVIII. 793.
Quinquatria, XVIII. 793.
Quinquennalis, XVIII. 793.
Quinqueremis, XVIII. 793.
Quinqueviri, XVIII. 794.
Quinquina tree, Condamine’s work on
the, VII. 199.
Quintal, XVIII. 794.
Quintan, sport of, XVII. 113.
Quintessence, XVIII. 794.
QuiNTETTO,in music, XVIII. 794.
Quintile, in astronomy, XVIII. 794.
QUI—RAD
Quintilian (M. F. Q.)r XVIII. 794—
Capperonnier’s edition of, V. 718—on
painting, XVI. 698.
Quintilians, heretics, XVIII. 795.
Quintin Matsys, XVIII. 796.
   (St.) See Quentin.
Quintine, III. 101.
Quintus Calaber, XVIII. 796.
Quippos, XVII. 293.
Quiria, in Asia, XVIII. 796.
Quirilia, river, XII. 254.
Quirinal Hill, XIX. 424, 427.
Quirinalia, Roman feast, XVIII. 796.
Quirites, XVIII. 796.
Quirk, XVIII. 796.
Quiroga (General), V. 661.
Quiros (Pedro Fernandez de), his voy¬
age of discovery, IV. 204—discoveries
of, 213; XVIII. 325.
Quito, South American republic, XVIII.
796; VII. 95—volcanos of, XVII. 514.
Quit-Rent, XVIII. 798.
Quittor, XXI. 618.
Quixote (Don), VI. 609 — Smollett’s
translation of, XX. 427. See Cer¬
vantes.
Quoin, in a ship, XVIII. 798.
Quoins, in architecture, XVIII. 798 ;
III. 470; V. 676.
Quorra or Niger, river. See Niger.
Quorum, XVIII. 798.
Quotidian, XVIII. 798.
Quotient, XVIII. 798.
R
R, letter of the alphabet, XIX. 1.
Raab, Hungarian city, XIX. 1.
Kabana, Indian drum, XIX. T.
Rabastens, French city, XIX. 1.
Rabatt, in Morocco, XV. 506; XIX.
619.
Rabbets of the stem, &c., in ship-build-
ing, XX. 279.
Rabbetting, in carpentry, XIX. 1.
Rabbinists, XIX. 1.
Rabbis, or Rabbin, XIX. 1.
Rabbit, XIV. 140—rearing and man¬
agement of rabbits, II. 840.
Rabbit-shooting, XX. 314.
Rabbit-skins, X..266, 267.
Rabboth-Moab, ruins of, XVI. 746.
Rabelais (Dr Francis), French author,
XIX. 1—his resemblance to Aristo¬
phanes, VIII. 149.
Rabies, or canine madness, XXI. 633.
Rabikius, XIX. 4 ; VIII. 475.
Rabnabad, island, XIX. 4.
Rabogh, Arabian village, XIX. 5.
Raby Castle, VIH. 291.
Racca, in Asia, XIX. 5.
Race, XIX. 5.
Race-horse, XI. 567, 598—speed of,VII.
200—race-riding, XIX. 8; XI. 621—
race-courses, 624.
Raceme, in botany, V. 40.
Racemic acid, VI. 428.
Rachamach, bird, XVI. 560.
Rachis, in botany, V. 40.
Rachonty, Hindu town, XIX. 5.
Rachore, Hindu town, XIX. 5.
Racine (John), XIX. 5—his friendship
with Boileau, IV. 7 38—dramatic works
of, VIII. 165.
Racing, XIX. 8 ; XI. 621.
Rack, instrument of torture, XIX. 8.
 (Edmund), XIX. 8.
Rackett (Mr), on the Lymington shrimp,
VII. 503.
Rackoke, island, XIX. 8.
Raconighi, Italian city, XIX. 8.
Racoon, in zoology, XIV. 106—struc¬
ture of, XVII. 704.
Radama, XIII. 669.
Radcliffe (Mrs Ann), XIX. 8 — ro
mances of, 342.
 (Dr John), XIX. 10—his ludi
crous method of emptying abscess in
the fauces, XX. 838, n.
Radcliffe Library, XVI. 685.
RAD—RAI
Radcliffe (Mr), his machine for dressing
cotton-cloth, VII. 409.
Kade, Prussian city, XIX, 10.
Radiares, zoophytes, XXI. 1013.
Radiata, IX. 94 ; II. 706—characteris¬
tics and classes of. III. 179.
Radiated Polypes, XXI. 1021.
Radiation of heat, XI. 182—of cold, 184
—instrument for observing the force
of solar, XXI. 241.
Radical, XIX. 10.
Radicle, XIX. 10 ; III. 74 ; V. 51.
Radiolites, mollusca, XV. 343.
Radish, evolution of the, III. 80—cul¬
ture of the, XI. 670.
Radius, in astronomy, XIX. 11—in ge¬
ometry, ib.; X. 438.
 , bone, in man, II. 787—in the
mammalia, III. 8—in reptiles, 15—
in birds, 13.
Radnor (New), Welsh town, XIX. 11.
Radnorshire, Welsh county, XIX. 11.
Raffaelle. See Raphael.
Raffles (Sir Thomas Stamford), IV. 438—
on the origin of the population of the
Indian Archipelago, III. 692—his im¬
provements at Bencoolen, IV. 562—
mission sent to Japan by, XII. 521—
his account of Java, 527, et seq.'i of
Sumatra, XX. 801, et seg.—settlement
at Singapore established by, 366.
Raft, XIX. 12.
Rafters, in building, XIX. 12.
Rafu on tiie early discoveries in America
by the Norwegians, II. 636, note.
Rafur, Hindu town, XIX. 12.
Ragecs, Hungarian town, XIX. 12.
Ragman’s Roll, XIX. 12.
Ragnit, Prussian town, XIX. 12.
Ragoba, XI. 422.
Ragotski, his alliance with Sweden,
XXI. 20—defeated and killed by the
Turks, 21.
Rags, bleaching of, IV. 691—paper made
from, XVII. 10.
Ragstone, XIX. 12.
Raguled, in heraldry, XIX. 12.
Ragusa, XIX. 12.
Rahabek, Arabian village, XIX. 12.
Rahaly, Arabian town, XIX. 12.
Rahafa, island, XIX. 12.
Rahat, Hindu town, XIX. 12.
Rahdunpoor, XIX. 12.
Rahoon, Hindu town, XIX. 12.
Raia, fish, XII. 234.
 Torpedo. See Torpedo.
Raiatea, island, XVIII. 324.
Raie, Turkish town, XIX. 12.
Raikes (Robert), the originator of Sun¬
day-schools, XXI. 529.
Raillery, XIX. 12.
Rails, in joinery, V. 688-9 ; XII. 615.
Railways, XIX. 13—in Ayrshire, IV.
260—Dundee and Newtyle, VIII. 281
—French, X. 173—Scotch, XIX. 751-
in the United States, XXI. 472—from
Vienna, 645—in Warwickshire, 782
—projected, in Tipperary, 315—via¬
ducts of, III. 323 ; XXI. 638—for col¬
lieries, VII. 81—conveyance of mails
by, XVIII. 488. See Tunnel.
Rain, XIX. 59—falls most abundantly
on elevated land, II. 610—showers of
mud in Buenos Ayres, V. 642—rare
in Egypt, VIII. 515—why prognosti¬
cated by fall of barometer, XII. 132
—in different climates, XIV. 511—
theory of, 748 ; XVII. 535—quan¬
tity of, 536—velocity of drops, XIV.
749—preternatural, XIX. 59—rainy
season in Afghanistan, II. 212.
Rain-guage, XIV. 742 ; XVII. 535.
Rainbow, XIII. 329 ; XIV. 749 ; XVI.
352, 353, 509 ; XVII. 542—method
by which its nature was ascertained,
I. 472—speculations of Marolycus
respecting it, 509—discovery of An¬
tonio de Dominis, ib.—colours of, VI.
634—colours of supernumerary, 637
—lunar, XIX. 60.
Raiseen, in Hindustan, XIX. 61.
Raisen (Market), XIX. 61.
Raisins, XIX, 61.
EAJ—RAM
Rajah, Indian title, XIX. 61.
Rajah Chohans, XIX. 61.
Rajabary, XIX. 61.
Rajahnagur, XIX. 61.
Rajamundroog, XIX. 61.
Rajamundry, XIX. 61, 62.
Rajeghur, Hindu town, XIX. 62.
Rajemal, in Bengal, XIX. 62.
Rajoorah, Hindu town, XIX. 63.
Rajpoor, Hindu town, XIX. 63.
Rajpootana, II. 365.
Rajpoots, XI. 396 ; IV. 608.
Rakan, river, XIX. 63.
Rake, agricultural implement, XIX. 63
—horse-rake, II. 268,
 of a ship, XIX. 63.
Raking mouldings, XII. 610.
Rakonitz, XIX. 63.
Ralahine, co-operative establishment at,
VI. 726.
Raleigh (Sir Walter), XIX. 63; IV.
262; VIII. 758; XI. 235; XX. 533
—execution of, V. 305—fond of chess,
VI. 519—Hume’s injustice to, XI.
499—an aphorism of, XX. 208—his
works on shipping quoted, 223.
Railing, Swedish senator, XXI. 26.
Rallus, bird, XVI. 627.
Ralph (James), XIX. 64.
Ram, best form of a, II. 328—breeding
and letting of, 332.
Ram Island, III. 274.
Rama, XIX. 64, 197; XVI. 741.
Ramage (Mr), of Aberdeen, on the atmo¬
sphere of the moon, IV. 5, 6.
Ramagiry, Indian town, XIX. 64.
Ramazzini (Bernardino, XIX. 64.
Rambert (St), French town, XIX. 64.
Rambervillers, XIX. 64.
Rambouillet, XIX. 64.
Ramdroog, XIX. 64.
Rameau’s theory of harmony, XI. 151;
XV. 605.
Ramergh, Hindu town, XIX. 64.
Rameses, XIX. 64. See Sesostris.
Ramgerry, Indian town, XIX. 65.
Ramghaut, Hindu town, XIX. 65.
Ramgonga, Hindu river, XX. 65.
Ramgunge, Hindu town, XIX. 65.
Ramgur, in Hindustan, XIX. 65.
Ramgurry, Hindu fort, XIX. 65.
Ramillies, in Brabant, XIX. 65.
Ramiro the Second, XX. 495.
Rahkewra, XIX. 65.
Ramleah, mountains, XIX. 65.
Rammisser, Hindu town, XIX. 65.
Rammisseram Isle, XIX. 65.
Ramnad, Hindu-town, XIX. 65.
Ramnagur, Hindu town, XIX. 65.
Ramnode, Hindu town, XIX. 65.
Ramor (Lough), VI. 255.
Rampant, in heraldry, XIX. 65.
Rampart, XIX. 65 ; IX. 773.
Ramphastos, bird, XVI. 599.
Ramphoceles, birds, XVI. 571-
Rampion, culture of, XI. 674.
Rampoor, in Hindustan, XIX. 65.
Rampoora, Hindu town, XIX. 66.
Ramsay (AJJan), XIX. 66—his manner
of editing old poetry, VII. 602—his
Monk and the Miller’s Wife, Vffl
274—poetry of, XVIII. 172.
   (Andrew Michael), XIX. 66.
 (James), XIX. 66.
Ramsbury, in Wilts, XIX. 67.
Romsden, the quadrant and sextant
simplified by, I. 633—his optical in-
struments, III. 748—his balance, IV
305—optigraph, VI. 38—micrometers,
XV. 15, 16—pyrometer, XVIII. 74'
—field-glass of telescopes, XXI. 16^*
169—new theodolite, 354 — zenith
sector, 358—standard scale, 361.
Ramsden’s (Sir John), Canal, XVI. 17-
Ramsey, in Huntingdon, XIX.
 , town in the Isle of Man, XIX
67; XIV. 209.
 , Welsh island, XIX. 68.
Ramsgate, town in Kent, XIX. 68"
foundation of its pier laid by m<Mn)
of a diving-bell, VIII. 69—scouring oi
its harbour, 194
Ramtrut, Hindu deity, XIX. 68.
INDEX
129
RAM—EAT
RAMtrs (Peter), XIX. 68; I. 30.
Rax, XIX. 68.
Rana, reptile, XIX. 153—bones of, III.
13, et seq.—ears, 26—tongue, 27.
Ranai, Sandwich island, XIX. 68.
Ranatra, insect, IX. 199.
Randazzo, XIX. 68.
Handers, Danish city, XIX. 68.
Randier, Hindu town, XIX. 68.
Randolph (Thomas), XIX. 68.
 -, regent of Scotland, XIX. 710.
Random Shot, XIX. 69.
Rangalore, in Hindustan, XIX. 69.
Rangamutty, XIX. 69.
Range, in gunnery, XIX. 69.
Ranger of a forest, XIX. 69.
Rangoon, XIX. 69 ; IV. 217 ; V. 567.
Raniceps, fish, XII. 219.
Ranidoe, reptiles, XIX. 152.
Rank, XIX. 70—relations of, among
animals, III. 171—in China, VI. 578,
586—inequality of, necessary, VIII.
400 ; XX. 381—distinction of, XVI.
235. See Caste.
  and precedence in the army and
navy, XIX. 70.
Ranks 5nd Files, XIX. 70.
Rannoch (Loch), XVII. 289.
Ranny Bednore, XIX. 70.
Rannypoor, Hindu town, XIX. 70.
Bans des Vaches, XIX. 70.
Ransom, XIX. 71.
Rantampore, XIX. 71.
Ranters, XVIII. 765.
Ranunculaceae, in .botany, V. 94.
Ran'unculatse, some kinds of, poisonous,
XIV. 506.
Ranunculus, culture of, XI. 682.
Ranzani on birds, XVI. 551, 620.
Rape, crime, XIX. 71; XIV. 496.
 , culture of, II. 29 0.
Rape-cake, a manure, II. 305.
Raper (Capt.), on the Himalaya Moun¬
tains, XI. 375.
Raphael d’Urbino, XIX. 71 ; XVI.
704, n. 2 ; 709, 714—his style of ar¬
chitecture, III. 426; of painting, 646-7,
657—cartoons of, VI. 207—genius of,
VIII. 181—specimen of sketches by,
VIII. PI. 199.
Raphaim, or Rephaim, XIX. 72.
Raphanidosis, XIX. 72.
Raphe, in botany, V. 46.
Raphictia, insect, IX. 213.
Raphoe, VIII. 111.
Rapids of rivers, XVII. 525.
Rapier, kind of sword, XIX. 72.
Rapin (Rene), French writer and Jesuit,
XIX. 72.
Rapin de Thoyras (Paul de), historian,
XIX. 72.
Raponus on inscriptions, XII. 292.
Rapperschweil, XIX. 72.
Rappolstein, XIX. 72.
Raptores, birds, XVI. 557.
Raree, Hindu town, XIX. 72.
Rarefaction, XIX. 72.
Rasay, island, XIX. 72.
Ras el Khyma, XIX. 72.
Rask (Erasmus), XIX. 72 ; VII. 731.
Rasores, birds, XVI. 604.
Raspberry, culture of, XI. 651.
Rasse, XIV. 118.
Rastadt, German city, XIX. 74—ne-
gociation at, in 1798', V. 484.
Rastall (John), XIX. 74.
Rastrick, in Yorkshire, XIX. 74.
Rat, XIV. 133—structure of, XVII.
705—sugar-canes in the West Indies
destroyed by, XX. 793—means of de¬
stroying rats, XXI. 599.
Rat Island, XIX. 74.
Ratafia, XIX. 74.
Ratch, in clock-work, XIX. 74.
Ratchets of a watch, XIX. 74.
Ratcliffe, treason of, V. 425.
Rateen.ot Ratten, XIX. 75.
Ratel, XIV. 108.
Rates, in the navy, XIX. 74.
Rathbone (William), VII. 405, n., 554.
Ratuenac, Prussian city, XIX. 75.
Rathlin Island, III. 274.
Ratio, XIX. 75 ; X. 442.
RAT—REA
Ratios of musical intervals. See Music,
Temperament.
Ration, XIX. 75.
Rationale, XIX. 75.
Ratisbon, XIX. 76; IV. 460—bridge
over the Danube at, XX. 377.
Ratlines of a ship, XIX. 76.
Rattails in horses, XXI. 637.
Rattibor, Prussian city, XIX. 76.
Rattle-snakes, XX. 151—their bite poi¬
sonous, XIV. 507.
Rattolaw, Hindu sea-port, XIX. 76.
Rau, Dutch surgeon, XX. 829.
Raujeshy, in Bengal, XIX. 76.
Radkoke, island, XIX. 76.
Raun, XIX. 76.
Rava, Turkish town, XIX. 76.
Ravailliac (Francois), XIX. 76; X. 34.
Ravelin, XIX. 77 ; IX. 773.
Raven, XVI. 584.
Ravenel’s hive, III. 283.
Ravenna, XIX. 77 ; XVII. 4—cupola
of the church of San Vitale at, III.
260—the Goths at, XII. 465—taken
by the Lombards, XIII. 466 —re¬
covered by the Venetians, ib.—eleva¬
tion of the ground at, XIX. 278.
Ravensburg, XIX. 77.
Ravensworth Castle, VIII. 291.
Ravey, Hindu river, XIX. 77.
Ravilpandy, XIX. 77.
Ravree, Hindu town, XIX. 77.
Rawaad, Hindu town, XIX. 77.
Rawak Isle, XIX. 77.
Rawandians, II. 533.
Rawankrad, lake, XIX. 77.
Rawcliffe, in Yorkshire, XIX. 77.
Rawicz, Prussian city, XIX. 77.
Ray (John), XIX. 77—on Scotch agri¬
culture, II. 258—his classification of
plants, V. 71—on fishes, XII. 152—
on animals, XIV. 77—his high scien¬
tific and personal character, ib.—on
birds, XVI. 546.
 , in optics, XIX. 78. See Light.
 , fish, XII. 235.
Rayger (Dr Charles), on a swarm of
ants at Posen, III. 243.
Rayleigh, in Essex, XIX. 78.
Raymundus de Penyafort, VI. 9 2.
Raynal (William Thomas), XIX. 78—
on the effects of the discovery of
America, and of passage to India by
Cape of Good Hope, I. 19—Diderot’s
literary aid to, VIII. 15.
Raypoor, Hindu town, XIX. 79.
Raysingpoor, XIX. 79.
Rayon, Persian town, XIX. 79.
Razor-fish, XV. 372.
Razors, manufacture of, VII. 566.
Re, island, XIX. 79—prefix, ib.—Egyp¬
tian deity, VIII. 552.
Reaction, XIX. 79 — universal reac¬
tion a law of the material world, VIII.
387.
Read (Mr), on the electricity of vege¬
table bodies, VIII. 608—his electrical
conductors, 646.
Reade (Dr Joseph), his permanent soap-
bubble, XVI. 428.
Reading, XIX. 79. See Elocution.
 , in Berkshire, XIX. 79.
 , in Pennsylvania, XVII. 224.
Re-aggravation, XIX. 80.
Real presence, doctrine of the, XX. 814.
Realejo, in Nicaragua, XVI. 201.
Realgar, VI. 384—sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Realists, XIX. 80 ; I. 312.
Reality, XIX. 80.
Realm, XIX. 80.
Re-animation, XIX. 80.
Reaping-machines, II. 269, 350.
Rear, XIX. 80.
Rear-Guard, XIX. 80 — Half-files —
Line—Rank, ib.
Reason, XIX. 80 ; XV. 457—extension
of the term to the moral faculties, I.
331—distinguished from instinct, XII.
297—Leibnitz on a sufficient reason ;
see Leibnitz.
Reasoning, XIX. 80; XIII. 445—its
parts, 445—qualifications of a good
reasonor, 449.
REA—REE
Reaumur (R. A. F., Sieur de), XIX. 80
—on the bee, IV. 519—on the shape
of bells, 545—on insects, XIV. 77—
on procelain, XVIII. 432—his spirit
of wine thermometer, XXI. 237.
Reaumuriese, in botany, V. 101.
Rebate, XIX. 81.
Rebatement, XIX. 81.
Rebellion, XIX. 81—Scotch, in 1715,
V. 374 ; in 1745, 381—Irish, in 1798,
484. See Monmouth, O’Neill, Ste.
Rebus, XIX. 81.
Recanati, Italian city, XIX. 81.
Recensio, XIX. 81.
Receptacle, in botany, III. 95 ; V. 40.
Rechabites, XIX. 81.
Recheat, XIX. 81.
Recherche Archipelago, XIX. 81.
Recife, XVII. 236—trade of, V. 210.
Reciprocal, XIX. 82—Figures, ib—in
mathematics, ib.—Proportion, ib.—
Terms, ib.—Equations, II. 460.
Recitativo, in music, XIX. 82.
Recklinghausen, XIX. 82.
Reckoning (ship’s), XIX. 82.
Reclaiming, XIX. 82.
Recognizance, XIX. 82.
Recoil, or Rebound, XIX. 82.
Recollection, XIX. 82.
Reconnoitre, XIX. 82.
Recorde (Robert), XIX. 82 ; I. 592 ;
X. 429—on algebra, I. 442 ; II. 423.
Recorder, XIX. 82.
Records (public), importance of quality
of paper and vellum on which they
are written, XII. 279.
Recovery, in law, XIX. 82.
Recreation Island, XIX. 82.
Recruiting, in Austria, IV. 234—Ava,
246—Egypt, VIII. 503—France, III.
601—the Netherlands, 611—Prussia,
606—Russia, 608—Spain, 602-—Tur¬
key, 613—Mr Wyndham’s act, V. 520.
Rectangle, XIX. 82 ; X. 433.
Rectification, XIX. 82.
Rectilinear, XIX. 83.
Rector, XIX. 83—English, VIII. 788.
Rectory, XIX. 83.
Rectum, in man, II. 816—in brutes, III.
38—surgical treatment of diseases of
the, XX. 843.
Recuperatores, XIX. 83.
Recupero on an eruption of water from
JEtna, II. 207.
Recurvirostra, birds, XVI. 626.
Recusants, Popish, XIX. 83.
Red, colour, XIX. 83—in crayon-paint¬
ing, VII. 452—dyeing of, VIII. 306,
341—method of dyeing wool, 312 ;
silk, 315; cotton and linen, 316 —
varieties of, XV. 127, 128—red co¬
louring-matters, VI. 483.
Red Book of Exchequer, XIX. 83.
Redbreast, XVI. 575.
Red-deer, XIV. 160 ; XX. PI. 460.'
Red-grouse-shooting, XX. 315.
Red Point, XIX. 83.
Red River, XIX. 83—Lord Selkirk’s
colony on, VIII. 691.
Red Saunders, VI. 483.
Red Sea, XIX. 83; XVII. 521—com¬
merce on the, III. 337.
Redburn, in Herts, XIX. 84.
Reddygoodum, XIX. 84.
Redemption, XIX. 84; XXL 224.
Redon, in France, XIX. 84.
Redoubt, XIX. 84 ; IX. 785.
Redpole, bird, XVI. 581.
Redruth, Cornish town, XIX. 84.
Redshank, bird, XVI. 625.
Redstart, bird, XVI. 575.
Reduction, XIX. 84—in arithmetic,
ib.; III. 547—of decimal fractions,
559, 562—of motions and forces, VIII.
363—of equations, XIX. 84.
Redundant, in music, XIX. 84.
Reduplication, XIX. 85.
Reduvius, insect, IX. 197.
Redwing, bird, XVI. 571.
Ree, Portuguese coin, XIX. 85.
Ree (Lough), XXI. 801.
Reed, weaver’s, XXI. 824.
Reef, sea-term, XIX. 85.
REE—REG
Reef Island, XIX. 85.
Reel, manufacturer’s, XIX. 85.
Reeling, XIX. 85—of silk, XX. 344.
Reepham, in Norfolk, XIX. 85.
Rees, Prussian town, XIX. 85.
 (Dr G. O.), on the composition
of bones, XVII. 600.
Reeve (Clara), XIX. 85—character of
her romances, 342.
Reeving, XIX. 87.
Refection, XIX 87.
Refining of sugar, XX. 795.
Reflecting telescope, XVI. 360. See Te¬
lescope.
Reflection of a moving body, XIX. 87
—of cold, VII. 57—of heat, I. 052; V.
725 ; XI. 182—of light, XIII. 331 ;
XVI. 378 ; XVII. 668—polarisation of
light by, XVIII. 226—considered as a
mode of polarising light, 227—circu¬
lar instrument of, XIX. 87.
——, in mental philosophy, XIX. 87 ;
XIV. 631—clear perception of, by
Descartes, I. 57 — the last faculty
which unfolds itself, 58—Locke on
ideas resulting from, 110-12—use
which Locke makes of the term, 253
—definition of, by La Harpe, 116.
Reflector of a lighthouse, XX. 18.
Reflex, in painting, XIX. 87.
Reflux, or ebb, XIX. 87.
Refoem, XIX. 87. See Parliament.
Reform-act, English, IX. 23—passing of
the, V. 584.
Refokmation (the), XIX. 87 ; XI. 496;
XIII. 231—in Denmark, VII. 721 —
England, VIII. 747 ; VII. 447—Scot¬
land, XII. 752 ; XIX. 726, et seq.,
763—Switzerland, XXI. 44—a conse¬
quence of the revival of letters, I. 15
—its influence on the progress of so¬
ciety, IX. 411—extended to Ireland,
XII. 362—hostile to art in England,
XVI. 724—destruction of books there,
at the,766,». 1. See Luther, Knox,&c.
Refracting telescope, II. 35. See Tele¬
scope.
Refraction, XIX. 97—of light, XIII
329, 331, 332 ; XVI. 357, 382 ; XVII.
668—discovery of the true law of, by
Snellius, I. 511—angle of, III. 129—
in astronomy, 761—theory of, ib.—
law of, 762—observations of divers
astronomers on, ib.—mode of finding
how much the rising of the sun or a
star is advanced by, IV. 64—Table of
atmospherical refractions, 100—sepa¬
ration of colours by, VI. 633—laws
of extraordinary, 642—double, 644 ;
XVI. 453; XVIII. 225—oblique, VI.
651—Dollond’s experiments on, VIII.
95—Fermat on, IX. 519—Table of
refractive powers, XVI. 384 —- laws
connecting refractive densities with
angles of polarisation, XVIII. 228—
considered as a mode of polarising
light, 230—calculations, in surveying,
of the errors produced by, XXI. 2—
determination of, in the trigonometri¬
cal survey, 369.’.'See Telescope.
 of heat, V. 725 ; XIII. 332—of
altitude, ascension, descension, de¬
clination, latitude, and longitude,
XIX. 97—terrestrial, ib.
Refrangibility of light, XIX. 97; I.
632. See Refraction.
Refrigerative, XIX. 97.
Refrigeratory, XIX. 97.
Refugees, XIX. 97.
Regalbuto, Sicilian town, XIX. 97.
Regalia, in law, XIX. 97.
Regalities in Scotland, XIX. 758.
Regalmuto, XIX. 97.
Regan, Persian town, XIX. 97.
Regardant, in heraldry, XIX. 97.
Regarder, XIX. 97,
Regatta, XIX. 97—of Kingstown in
Ireland, VIII. 235.
Regel, fixed star, XIX. 97.
Regen, in Bavaria, XIX. 97.
Regency of Britain, the Prince of Wales’s
title to the, V. 452—his appointment
to the, 532.
130
INDEX
REG—REI
Regeneration, XIX. 97 XXI. 234.
Regent, XIX. 97.
Regent’s Canal, XVI: 17.
Regent’s Park, London, XIII. 539.
Regent-bird, XVI. 574.
Reggio, XIX. 97; XV. 699.
Regiam Majestatem, XX. 374.
Regicide, XIX. 97.
Regifugicm, XIX. 97.
Regimen, XIX. 98.
Regiment, XIX. 98.
Regiomontanus, XV. 591; VI. 10—
advanced mathematics by his works,
I. 435—introduced trigonometry and
decimal fractions, ib.; X. 429—his
artificial dove, II. 177—his almanac,
532 — his astronomical labours, III.
736; I. 484.
Region, XIX. 98—Ethereal, ib.—Ele¬
mentary, ib.
Regis (Peter Sylvain), XIX. 98.
Register, XIX. 98.
Register House, Edinburgh, VIII. 419.
Registrar, XIX. 98.
Registration (general), of births, bap¬
tisms, marriages, &c., XIX. 98.
Regma, in botany, V. 49.
Regnard (John Francis), XIX. 104.
Regnier (Mathurin), XIX. 104.
   des Marets (Seraphin), French
poet, XIX. 104.
 (General), V. 523.
Regnier’s dynanometer, VIII. 388.
Regrator, XIX. 104.
Regula, in architecture, III. 470.
Regular, XIX. 104—Body, ib.
Regulator of a watch, VI. 798.
Regulus (M. Attilius), Roman consul,
XIX. 104, 385; VI. 191.
 , bird, XVI. 576.
 , star, XIX. 104.
 , in chemistry, XIX. 104.
Rehearsal, XIX. 105.
Reher, Hindu town, XIX. 105.
Reicha on musical scales, XV. 612—on
melody, 619, 622—on the fugue, 639
—on musical composition, 643.
Reichel on vegetable anatomy, III. 46.
Reichenbach, XIX. 105.
Reichenberg, XIX. 105.
Reid (Adam), his pendulum, XVII. 215.
   (General), his bequest to the
University of Edinburgh, XXI. 520.
   (Dr Thomas), XIX. 105—am¬
biguity of a passage relative to colour
in his Inquiry into the Human Mind,
I. 66—sense in which he used the
word suggestion, 167—great object of
his Inquiry, 218—Dr Adam Ferguson
on his works, 219—his Essays on the
Intellectual and on the Active Powers
of Man, 222 — unfortunate in his
choice of the terms common sense
and instinct, 387 — on analogical
reasoning, II. 682—on instinct, XII.
297, 298—on the utility of logic,
XIII. 459—on perception, XIV. 604,
606—on memory,615—on conception,
620—on abstraction, 623—on belief
of testimony, 641—on cause and ef¬
fect, XVII. 440 — on the sense of
smell, XX. 405—his style, XXI. 89.
Reigate, in Surrey, XIX. 107.
Reigwin (Capt. Richard), IV. 766.
Reil on the brain, II. 704—on the neu-
rilema, 732.
Reimarus on the character of Jesus
Christ, XII. 562.
Rein-deer, XIV. 157; XVII. 709—of
Asia, III. 683; Iceland, XII. 148;
Lapland, XIII. 106, 110.
Rein-deer moss, XIII. 105.
Reinesius on inscriptions, XII. 292.
Reinhold (M.), IX. 535—his opinion of
Kant’s principle called practical rea¬
son, I. 198—his reasons why Kant’s
Critique of Pure Reason made so
great an impression in Germany, ib.
 , astronomer. III. 738.
Reiske (John James), XIX. 107.
Reisseissen on the mucous membranes
of the human body, II. 753.
REI—REN
Reitra, Austrian city, XIX. 108.
Rejang, in Sumatra, XIX. 108.
Reland (Adrian), XIX. 108.
Relations of animals, Lamarck’s defini¬
tion of, III. 173.
Relay Horses, XIX. 108.
Relhan (Mr), on botany, V. 83.
Relics, XIX. 108.
Relief Synod, XIX. 764.
Relievo, or Relief, XIX. 108.
Religion, XIX. 108—of antiquity, III.
504—of Abyssinia, II. 62—Asia, III.
694—Austria, IV. 234—Bolivia, 753
—Greece, 168; XX. 452 — Japan,
XII. 514—of the ancient Germans,
X. 475—of the Slavi, XIX. 529-
operation of conscience in relation to
religious systems, I. 411—employed
as an aid of government, IV. 168—•
corruptions of, 169—right of private
judgment, V. 25—arguments of the
dissenters in 1772 against articles of
faith, 395, 396—law of Buenos Ayres
in favour of toleration, 657—union
of religion with warlike spirit in chi¬
valry, VI. 593—summary of ecclesi¬
astical history, XI. 486—religious
societies in London, XIII. 526—reli¬
gious duties, XV. 478—motives to
virtue from religion, 486—mysteries
in, 657—philosophy not hostile to,
XVII. 574—religious aspect of rivers,
XIX. 250 — laxity of thought and
conduct admitted by traditionary re¬
ligions whose authority is allowed,
XX. 447. See Buddha, Christianity,
Devotion, God, Mahommedanism, My¬
thology, Persecution, Polytheism, Po¬
pery, Reformation, Roman Catholics,
Superstition, Theology, Toleration,
&c.; also the geographical articles
generally.
Religious, XIX. 109.
Religious Missions,XIX. 109;XV.298
—in Abyssinia, II. 52—America, 632
—Asia, III. 697—Ava, IV. 245-6—
Brazil, V. 190, etseq.; XVIII. 458-
China, VI. 521 ; III. 697—Japan,
XII. 519—Labrador, XIII. 5—the
Ladrone Islands, XVIII. 316—the
Marquesas, 328—New California, VI.
23—New Zealand, IV. 216; XXL 977
—Otaheite, XVIII. 326 — Sandwich
Islands, 321 — Paraguay, II. 630 ;
XVII. 57; XVIII. 143—Peru, XVII.
303—Siberia, XX. 327-8—Sierra Le¬
one, 331—Society Islands, XVIII. 324
—Tunquin, XXI. 409—capacity of the
indigenous Americans for receiving
Christianity considered, 11.631. See
the geographical articles generally.
Rembang, in Java, XIX. 116.
Rembrant Van Ruin, XIX. 116—his
pictures, III. 649 ; XVI. 722.
Remedies of disease, XIV. 523. See
Medicine.
Remembrance, XIX. 116.
Remembrancers, XIX. 116.
Remesses, XI. 323.
Reminiscence, XIX. 116—Plato on,
XVIII. 31.
Remission, in physics, XIX. 116.
Remondi (J. B.), XL 311.
Remonstrants, XIX. 116; III. 577;
XI. 2, 521; XVIII. 515.
Remontoir scapements, VI. 774, 776.
Remora, fish, XII. 222.
Remorse, XIX. 116 ; I. 368.
Remphan, XIX. 117.
Remus, XIX. 118, 361.
Remusat (Abel), on the Chinese alpha¬
bet, II. 543.
Remy (St), French city, XIX. 118.
Renaldini’s thermometer, IV. 393.
Renapoor, Hindu town, XIX. 118.
Renaudot (Abbe), on Coptic, XI. 313.
Rendsburg, Danish city, XIX. 118.
Renfrew, Scotch town, XIX. 118.
Renfrewshire, XIX. 118.
Rennell (Major), on the Periplus of
Hanno, II. 219; X. 389 — on the
ruins of Babylon, IV. 267—on the
REN—RES
Himalaya Mountains, XI. 369—on
the Indus, XII. 270.
Rennes, in France, XIX. 120.
Rennet, XIX. 522.
Rennie (George), on friction, XIV. 411,
et seq.
  (John), XIX. 120—aqueduct
designed by, III. 323 —his plan of
the Plymouth Breakwater, V. 220—
iron bridges executed by, 279—his
plans of Waterloo Bridge and the New
London Bridge, 281, 282—his diving-
bells at Howth and Plymouth, VIII.
69, 70—on friction, XIV. 415.
Renschild (General), XXI. 23.
Rent—nature, origin, and progress of,
XVIII. 290—does not enter into
price, VII. 391—of land in England,
VIII. 766—taxes on, XXI. 101—ob¬
jections to corn-rents, II. 344—plan
for converting these into money, ib.
Rentering, XIX. 123.
Renulina, mollusca, XV. 345.
Renverse, in heraldry, XIX. 123.
Renzi (Dr), on the rate of mortality in
Naples, XV. 537.
Reounzeik, Burmese town, XIX. 123.
Repeating Circle (Borda’s), IV. 798.
 Watches, VI. 795.
Repentance, XIX. 123.
Replum, in botany, V. 48.
Representative, XIX. 124.
  Government, X. 627.
Reprieve, XIX. 124.
Reprisals, XIX.124—lettersof.II. 157.
Reprobation, XIX. 124.
Reproduction, XIX. 124—organs of,
in man, II. 823 ; XVII. 687 ; in
brutes, III. 40 ; in plants, 95, 97 ; V.
39 ; in the Crustacea, VII. 499—re¬
production of lost or mutilated or¬
gans in animals, III. 163, 355—of
polypes, XXI. 1020, 1023. See Ge¬
neration.
Reptilia, XIX. 124; XVII. 586, 678—
their bones, III. 1, 13—muscles, 19—
organs of smell, 21—eyes, '22, et seq.
—ears, 26—tongue, 27—vocal organs,
29—nervous system, 30, 31—teeth,
32, 33—stomach, 36—intestines, 37,
38—heart, 39—lungs, 40—secretory
organs, 40—hybernation, 168—list of
those used for food, IX. 724—phy¬
siology of, XVII. 712—serpents of
Sumatra, XX. 803. See Serpents.
Repton, in Derbyshire, XIX. 164.
Republics, South American, II. 640,646.
See Democracy, Athens, Bolivia, &c.
Repulsion, VIII. 348—electric, 575,
577, 586, 592^—mutual, of particles
of the air, XII. 120—magnetic, XIII.
690, 702—alternate attraction and
repulsion in some bodies, XX. 753—
is the cause of the swimming of some
bodies in fluids specifically lighter
than themselves, ib.
Requena, Spanish city, XIX. 164.
Requesens, XI. 516.
Resedacese, in botany, V. 97.
Resenius (Professor), his edition of the
Edda, VIII. 411.
Resentment, XIX. 164 ; XV. 463.
Reshd, Persian town, XIX. 164.
Residual Analysis, XIX. 164—Figure,
ib.—Root, ib.
Resignation, XV. 470.
Resins, in chemistry, VI. 489—in mi¬
neralogy, XV. 171—electricity de¬
veloped during the melting and cool¬
ing of, VIII. 603—specific gravity of,
XII. 34—used as the bases of varnish,
XXI. 561—gum-resins, VI. 490—re¬
sinous secretions of the human body,
XVII. 650.
Resina, Italian town, XIX. 164.
Resinous electricity, VIII. 576, 578—
discovery of, 567.
Resist-pastes, in calico-printing,account
of the principal, VIII. 341.
Resistance of the air. See Gunnery,
Projectiles.
Resistance of Fluids, XIX. 165 ; XII.
RES—REV
76; XX. 267—use of the pendulum
in determining, XVII. 188.
Resistance of Materials, V. 263. See
Strength of Materials.
Resolution, in music, XIX. 187.
 Bay, XIX. 187.
 Island; XIX. 187.
 of forces, VIII. 357.
Resort, XIX. 187.
Resoulabad, XIX. 187.
Respiration, XVII. 583, 645; III. 157;
XVIII. 121—quality of the air chang¬
ed by, 122—mechanism of, ib.—essen¬
tial to mammiferous quadrupeds from
birth, II. 666—different modes of, in
vertebrated animals, 706—of plants,
XXI. 579 ; III. 157—of arachnides,
349 ; bees, IV. 521; insects, IX. 81;
fishes, XII. 161; XVII. 717 ; whales,
XIV. 189 ; frogs, XIX. 151; serpents,
XX. 130—length of time during which
breath can be held, VIII. 59—Hooke
on, XI. 555—act of, whether instinc¬
tive, XII. 301 — Lavoisier’s experi¬
ments on, XIII. 128—disorders of, in
the domestic animals, XXL 629—re¬
spiratory nerves, &VII. 677. See
Amphibia, Diving.
 (Organs of), in man, II. 821-
in the lower animals, III. 39—in the
Crustacea, VII. 499—in birds, XVI.
554 — in the echinodermata, XXL
1000. See Lungs, Phthisis.
Respondent, XIX. 187.
Responsions at Oxford, XXI. 498.
Ressons on gunnery, XI. 43.
Rest, XIX. 187—in poetry, 188.
Rest-Harrow, a plant, XIX. 188.
Restauration, XIX. 188.
Restiacese, in botany, V. 135.
Restieae, in botany, V. 135,
Restif de la Bretonne, character of his
novels, XIX. 354.
Restiform bodies of the brain, H. 810.
Restitution, XIX. 188—of medals, ib.
Restive horse, XIX. 188.
Restoration, island, XIX. 188.
  of Charles II., V. 341.
Restorations of antiques. III. 267.
Resurrection, XIX. 188—analogy be¬
tween it and the metamorphosis of in¬
sects, IX. 88—a Mahommedan doc¬
trine, XIV. 33—of Jesus Christ, XII.
560 ; XXI. 229.
Resuscitation, XIX. 188.
Retail-dealers, advantage of, XVIII. 284.
Retaliation, XXI. 71—Arabian law of,
III. 334—-regarded by Socrates as a
duty, XX. 463.
Retarded motions, VIII. 367.
Retarding forces, VIII. 370.
Rete mucosum of the skin, II. 750; VII.
190; XVII. 606.
Retford (East), XIX. 188.
RETHEL,in France, XIX. 188.
Reticle-micrometers, XV. 23.
Reticula, XIX. 188.
Reticulation, XIX. 188; XVI. 105.
Reticulum, XIX. 193.
Retina of the eye, in man, II. 799; XVII.
667—in various animals. III. 24 —
whether the seat of vision, XVI. 512
—insensible spot in, XVII. 670.
Retinasphalt, sp. gr. of, XII. 34.
Retirade, XIX. 193.
Retirement, XIX. 193.
Retort, XIX. 193—gas-retort, X. 349.
Retpoorah, a city in the kingdom of
Wirtemberg, XIX. 193.
Retracts, XIX. 193.
Retreats, in war, XXI. 752, 755.
Retriever-dog, XX. 311.
Retromingents, XIX. 193.
Retz (Cardinal de), VII. 202.
Retzius (Professor), V. 79.
Reus-Plauen, two principalities in Ger¬
many, XIX. 193.
Reuss on the capillaries, II. 725.
Reutlingen, XIX. 194.
Reve, or Reeve, XIX. 194.
Reveille, XIX. 194.
Revel, IV. 330.
INDEX
131
REV—RIII
Revelation, XIX. 194—law of, XIII.
129. See Scripture, Theology.
Revels, XIX. 194.
Revenge, XIX. 194. See Retaliation.
Revenue of Attica, IV. 172—of the
United Kingdom, VIII. 792. See
Funding System, Political Economy,
Taxation, Austria, France, &c.
Revebberation, XIX. 194.
Reverence due to the Deity, XV. 477 5
XXI. 210. See Devotion, Veneration.
Reverend, XIX. 194.
Reverie, XIX. 194.
Reversion, XIX. 194. See Annuities.
RevOtement, in fortification, IX. 773.
Revett’s Antiquities of Athens, III. 430.
Review, XIX. 194 — Edinburgh, VII. j
267-Quarterly, X. 517.
Revival of learning in Europe, I. 15;
VII. 495 — naturally produced the
Reformation, I. 15—its eftects on the
advancement of physical, metaphysi¬
cal, moral, and political science, 16-20.
Revivification, XIX. 194.
Revolution, in politics, XIX. 94 —
English, of 1688, V. 360; VI. 655
—Greek, X. 743.
 (French), V. 456; X. 45; XI.
485—retrospective view of the, X.
121—its effects on agriculture, 174 ;
on religion, 202.
 , in geometry, XIX. 195.
 , in astronomy, XIX. 195.
Rewah, XIX. 195; IV. 730.
Rewart, Hindu town, XIX. 195.
Retneau (Charles Rene), XIX. 195.
Reynolds (Sir Joshua), XIX. 195;
XVI. 703, 725, 729—his character as
a painter, III. 652; XVI. 721—on the
imitation of nature in painting, III.
654—his theory of beauty, IV. 486—
his friendship with Burke, V. 713 —
on taste, XXI. 89-91.
Rezat, in Bavaria, XIX. 197.
Rhabarbarin, VI. 467.
Rhabdology, XIX. 197.
Rhadamantiius, XIX. 197; VII. 463.
Rhaden, Prussian town, XIX. 197.
Rhastian Alps, II. 559.
Rhreticus (G. J.), X. 430 — his Trigono¬
metrical Table, XXI. 374.
Rhcetizite, specific gravity of, XII. 34.
Rhagium, insect, IX. 180.
Rhamesseion, at Thebes in Egypt, ruins
of, VIII. 537.
Hhamnem, in botany, V. 105.
Rhamnus, XVII. 787.
Rhamphium, insect, IX. 276.
Rhamphomyia,insect, IX. 270.
Rhamphus, insect, IX. 174.
Rhamses-Meiammon, reign of,VIII. 466.
Rhamses, or Sesostris, king of Egypt.
See Sesostris.
Rhapsodi, XIX. 198.
Ruapsodomancy, XIX. 198.
Rhapsody, XIX. 198.
Rhazes, his skill in surgery, XX. 826.
Rhea, a deity of the ancient Egyptians,
VIII. 552; XI. 319.
  , bird, XVI. 616.
Rheims, in France, XIX. 198.
Rheinberg, Prussian town, XIX. 198.
Rheita’s telescope, XXI. 166.
Rheticus (G. J.). See Rhaeticus.
Rhetores of Athens, XIX. 198.
Rhetorians, heretics, XIX. 198.
Rhetoric, XIX. 199 — Aristotle on,
I- 54; III. 514—of the Druids, VIII.
209—reprobated by Plato, XVIII. 29.
See Declamation.
Rheumatism in the domestic animals,
XXI. 615.
Rhina, insect, IX. 174. *
—  , fish, XII. 235.
Rhinchobdella, fish, XII. 186.
Rhine, a circle of Bavaria, XIX. 221;
IV. 460.
' (Lower),in France, XIX. 221.
(Upper), in France, XIX. 221.
^(Confederation of the), VII. 210 ;
river. X. 483 ; XVIII. 691 ;
AXI. 46 — canal from it to the
RHI—me
Rhone, XVI. 6—its navigation, 35—
lowering of its channel, XVII. 524.
Rhinella, reptile, XIX. 158.
Rhingia, insect, IX. 274.
Rhinobatus, fish, XII. 234.
Rhinoceros, XIX. 222; XIV.150,156 ;
II. 60, 227—structure of, XVII. 707.
Rhinolphus, in zoology, XIV. 101.
Rhinopoma, in zoology, XIV. 101.
Rhinosimus, insect, IX. 172.
Rhinotia, insect, IX. 172.
Rhinotragus, insect, IX. 179.
Rhipicera, insect, IX. 141.
Rhipidia, insect, IX. 261.
Rhisostrogus, insect, IX. 159.
Rhizanthe®, in botany, V. 128.
Rhizoboleae, in botany, V. 102.
Rhizophorse, in botany, V. 108.
Rhizophysa, zoophyte, XXI. 1018.
Rhizostoma, structure of, XVII. 722.
Rhode Island, XIX. 222.
Rhodes, XIX. 223—colossus of, VII.
126; XX. 15 — attacked by Mithri-
dates, XVIII. 351 — Rhodian laws,
XIV. 248.
Rhodium, VI. 423—salts of peroxide of,
452 — specific gravity of, XII. 34
—oil of, used in the destruction of
vermin, XXI. 599.
Rhododendron, XI. 678.
Rhodope, XXI. 418.
Rhomb Solid, XIX. 225.
Rhomboid, XIX. 225 ; X. 433 — in
crystallization, VII. 511, n. 4 — in
mineralogy, XV. 112.
Rhombus, XIX. 225; X. 433.
 , fish, XII. 188, 220.
Rhone, French department, XIX. 225.
— , river, XXI. 46—canal from it
to the Rhine, XVI. 6.
 (Mouths of the), French de¬
partment, XIX. 226.
Rhubarb, XIX. 226—alkaliin, VI. 467
—culture of, XI. 675,
Rhuddlan Marsh, trigonometrical base
on, XXI. 358.
Rhumb, XIX. 229.
Rhumb-Line, XIX. 229; X. 407.
Rhyme, XIX. 229.
Rhymer (Thomas the), XXI. 244.
Rhynchsea, bird, XVI. 623.
Rhynchaenus, insect, IX. 174.
Rhynchapsis, bird, XVI. 637.
Rhynchites, insect, IX. 172.
Rhynchophora, insects, IX. 171.
Rhynchops, bird, XVI. 633.
Rhynchostoma, insects, IX. 167.
Rhyphus, insect, IX. 264.
Rhythm, musical, XV. 621—essential in
melody, XIV. 541.
Rhtthmometer, XIX. 229.
Rhyzophagus, insect, IX. 176.
Riao, island, XIX. 229.
Riasan, in Russia, XIX. 229.
Ribauviller, XIX. 229.
Ribble, English river, XIII. 50—its na¬
vigation, XVI. 18.
Ribbon. See Design.
Ribeira Grande, IV. 263.
Ribera, in Sicily, XIX. 229.
Riberac, in France, XIX. 229.
Ribero (Dr), IV. 734.
Ribs of man, II. 741—of the mammalia,
HI. 3—birds, 12—reptiles, 14—fishes.
16—form of, XVIII. 122.
Ricardo (David), XIX. 229—on the
high price of gold before the recoin-
age, VII. 38—-on the corn-laws, 345,
et seq.—on the cottage-system, 394—
on rates of interest, XII. 320—on
money, XV. 393—on profits, XVIII.
298—on taxation, XXI. 103, et seq.
Ricati on mathematics, XIV. 322.
Ricaut (Sir Paul), XIX. 234.
Ricci, painter, XVI. 719.
Riccio, murder of, XIX. 738.
Riccioli, astronomical labours and opi¬
nions of, I. 495; III. 741.
Riccoboni on love-intrigue in the French
drama, VIII. 164.
Rice, XIX. 234—bread of, IV. 300—its
culture in China, VI. 579; Georgia,
&c., XIX. 589; India, XI. 380; Java,
RIC—EIG
XII. 528 ; Lombardy, XIII. 480 ;
Madagascar, 666 ; and the United
States, XXI. 463.
Rich (Mr), his account of the ruins of
Babylon, IV. 267.
Richard (Monsieur), his carriage with¬
out horses, XIV. 443.
 L» king of England, reign and
character of, VIII. 719—his expedi¬
tion to the Holy Land, 482-3 ; VII.
485, 489; XVI. 757—his fleet, XX.
215— his encouragement of the Uni¬
versity of Oxford, XXI. 492.
 IL, reign of, VIII. 729—his
Irish policy, XII. 359—his fleet, XX.
216— tournament held by, XXL 342.
 III., reign of, VIII. 738.
Richardson (Dr), on the aurora borealis,
IV. 199, 201—his account of Mehem-
med Ali, VIII. 505, n.—on the wol¬
verine, XIV. 108—on the skunk wea¬
sel, 110 — on the American field-
mouse, 134—on the jer-falcon, XVI.
565 — on North American zoolocrv,
XVII. 551.
 (Jonathan), painter, XIX. 237.
' ~ (Mr), of Hull, notice of his works
on brewing, V. 231.
—  (Mr), of Keswick, his lifting-
plug, XIV. 458.
  (Samuel), XIX. 235—his dis¬
like of Fielding, IX. 539—merits of
his novels, XIX. 336.
Richelet (Caesar Peter), XIX. 237.
Richelieu (J. A. du P. de), XIX. 237
—his treatment of Corneille, VIII.
159—his superstition, XX. 813.
 , river, XIX. 238.
——— Islands, XIX. 238.
Riches, XIX. 238. See Wealth.
Richman (Professor), his death while
making electrical observations, VIII.
570—on the Leyden jar, 650.
Richmond, the metropolis of Virginia,
XIX. 238; XXL 659.
 , in Surrey, XIX. 238.
 —, in Yorkshire, XIX. 238.
Richter (J. B.), on the analysis of salts,
VI. 352.
Richter’s novels, XIX. 356.
Ricimer, XIX. 423.
Rieinic acid, VI. 430.
Ricinus, insect, IX. 296.
Rickards on the Hindus, XI. 402, etseq.
Rickman on pointed architecture, III.
454, et seq.
Rickmansworth, XIX. 238.
Ricochet battery, IV. 453.
Riddle, or aenigma, II. 173.
Riddle’s letter-balance, XXI. 839.
Rideau, XIX. 239.
 Canal, VI. 64 ; XVI. 27.
Riders, in ship-building, XX. 284, 291.
Ridges, in farming, best method of form¬
ing, II. 276.
Ridgway (Messrs), of Harwich, their im¬
provements in bleaching, IV. 680.
Ridicule, XIX. 239—largely employed
in the Greek comedy, VIII. 149—the
ridiculous distinguished from the lu¬
dicrous, XIII. 122.
Riding, XI. 607—in naval affairs, XIX.
239. See Race.
Riding-bits of a ship, XX. 284.
Ridinger, engraver, IX. 54.
Ridley (Gloster), XIX. 240.
 (Henry), on the anatomy of the
brain, II. 701.
 (Nicholas), XIX. 239.
Riego, XX. 508, 509.
Rienzi (N. G. de), XIX. 240.
Ries (P.), and Moser, on magnetism,
XIII. 697 — on solar magnetism,
XVI. 423.
Riesengebirge, XIX. 241.
Rieti, in Italy, XIX. 241.
Riffault (Monsieur), on electro-chemi¬
cal decomposition, XXI. 678.
Rifle, XI. 37.
Rifle-barrelled guns, XI. 62.
Rifle-shooting, XX. 302.
Rifle-bird, XVI. 592.
Riga, XIX. 242—port and trade of, IV.
RIG—HIV
330—taken by Gustavus Adolphus,
XXL 17.
Rigadoon, XIX. 242.
Rigaud (Professor), on Ptolemy’s Optics.
XVI. 348.
Rigging of a ship, XIX. 242.
Right, in geometry, XIX. 242.
 , title, XIX. 242.
Right and wrong, ideas of, XIV. 628.
See Ethical Philosophy, Moral Phi¬
losophy, Conscience.
Right-ascension, III. 756.
Rights, XIX. 242 ; XII. 634—the Eco¬
nomists on, VIII. 400.
 (Bill of), XIX. 243.
Rigoli, XIX. 243.
Rigob, in medicine, XIX. 244,
Rima-Szombach, XIX. 244.
Rimini, XIX. 244 ; XVII. 4.
Rincon (Antonio), painter, XVI. 722.
Rind of plants, III. 65.
Ring, XIX. 244.
Ring-dove, XVI. 613.
Ring-ouzel, bird, XVI. 571.
Ringbone, XXI. 616.
Ringwood, in Hampshire, XIX. 244.
Rio de Contas, XIX. 628.
Rio Grande, river, XIX. 244.
Rio Grande do Norte, XIX. 244.
Rio Grande do Sul, XIX. 245.
Rio Grande de la Madalena, XXI. 592.
Rio Hacha, province, XIV. 264.
Rio Janeiro, XIX. 246 ; V. 195-
climate, II. 612 ; V. 200—seminaries,
&c., 205 — productions, 206—com¬
merce, 209—settlement of, 189, 190.
Rio Negro. See Negro.
Riobamba, XVIII. 797.
Riofreseo, XX. 94.
Rioja, in La Plata, XVIII. 8.
Riolanus, VI. 347.
Riom, in France, XIX. 248.
Rioseco, in Spain, XIX. 249.
Riots, discussion in 1780, on the mode
of quelling, V. 414.
Riou’s Island, XIX. 249.
Ripen, Danish city, XIX. 249.
Ripening of fruits, XXI. 584.
Riphcean Mountains, XIX. 249.
Ripiphorus, insect, IX. 167.
Ripley, in Yorkshire, XIX. 249.
Ripon, XIX. 249—Canal, XVI. 21.
Rippoldsau, springs of, XXI. 946.
Risible, XIX. 249. See Ludicrous.
Risso (M.), on birds, XVI. 551.
Ristigouche, river, XVI. 148.
Ritchie (Dr W.), on electricity, VIII.
581—his photometer, XIII. 335—his
torsion galvanometer, XXI. 688.
Rites, XIX, 249.
Ritornei.lo, XIX. 249.
Ritson (Joseph), on the minstrels, XIX.
322—his attack on Warton’s History
of English Poetry, XXI. 780.
Ritter (J. D.), his edition of the Theo-
dosian Code, VI. 715.
 (Mons.), on the prismatic spec¬
trum, XIII. 332—on the influence of
magnetism upon chemical action, 723
—on the sun’s rays, XVI. 364—on
the effect of galvanism upon the eye,
XXI. 681.
Ritual, XIX. 249,
Riva, XIX. 250.
Rivadavia (Don Bernardino), V. 658-60.
Rive (M. de la), his hygrometer, XII.
130—on electro-chemical decomposi¬
tion, XXI. 678—his electro-magnetic
apparatus, 686. See Delarive.
Rivers, XIX. 250 ; XVII. 523—size
and course of, ib.—channels of, 524
—inundations, 525 — embankments,
ib.; VIII. 676, 679—rapids and ca¬
taracts, XVII. 525—number of, 526
—quantity of water discharged by, ib. .
—length of, ib.—occultation of, ib.—
great number and magnitude of navi¬
gable American rivers, II. 614—no
American river of the first class flows
westward, 615 — Asiatic rivers, III.
675—dredging of, VIII. 198—straight¬
ening of the course of, 679—in gar¬
dening, X. 327—rights of different
132
INDEX
/
MV—ROB
nations respecting, XIII. 139 — de¬
posits at mouths of, XV. 219, 224 ;
XVII. 510—modes of improving navi¬
gation of, XVI. 34—tides in, XXI. 282
— Plate shewing the comparative
lengths of, XVII. PI. 410. See Delta,
Navigation (Inland), and the geogra-
phical articles generally.
River Wateb, XIX. 294.
Riverhead, in Kent, XIX. 294.
Rivinus, botanist, V. 82.
Rivoei, Italian city, XIX. 294—battle
of, X. 104 ; XV. 722.
Rixdollar, XV. 409, et seq.
Rizzio, murder of, XIX. 738.
Roach, XII. 199—angling for, III. 147.
Road, in navigation, XIX. 294.
Roads, XIX. 294—in China, II. G27—
England, VIII. 763—France, X. 173—
Ireland, XII. 413—Japan, 518—Peru,
II. 624—Scotland, 262 ; XIX. 750—
Spain, XX. 519—bridges now' used for
raising the level of, III. 322—Roman,
in Britain, XXI. 821 ; IV. 586—of
the 16th century, VII. 159—embank¬
ments to serve as, VIII. 680—road
of the Simplon, XX. 356—repair of
roads by contributions of labour,
XXI. 100—road, in gardening, X.
332.
Road-Making, XIX. 294.
Roan, XIX. 300.
Roanne, in France, XIX. 300.
Roanoak, XIX. 300.
Roaring, a disease of tiie domestic ani¬
mals, XXL 629.
Robbery, honourable in Arabia, III.
331. See Larceny.
Robert, king of France, X. 12.
 I., king of Scotland. See Bruce.
 II. and III., kings of Scotland,
XIX. 710, 711.
 the Devil, VIII. 709.
   de Belesme, VIII. 714.
— of Gloucester quoted, IX. 39.
Robert’s Isles, XIX. 300.
Roberton (Mr), on the mortality of
children, XV. 527.
Roberts’ spinning-machinery, X. 555—
plate-knee, XX. 290.
Robertson (Dr William), XIX. 300—
on the balance of power, IV. 311—on
the beneficial effects of the Crusades,
VII. 487—compared with Gibbon, X.
514, n. 2—his history of Queen Mary,
XI. 498—on Indian chronology, XII.
588—Gilbert Stuart’s enmity to, XX.
782-3.
Roberval, IX. 632—originality and ma¬
thematical genius of, I. 439—claimed
the discovery of the area of the cy¬
cloid, ib. — improved the method of
quadratures, ib. — his disputes with
Descartes, VI. 181—his mathemati¬
cal labours, XIV. 317.
Robervallian Lines, XIX. 302.
Robespierre, X 71, et seq., 124—down¬
fall of, 91. See Danton.
Robigus and Robigo, XIX. 302.
Robinia viscosa, XVII. 787.
Robins (Benjamin), XIX. 302—sketch
of his life, writings, and contributions
to mathematics, 1.601—method which
he employed to determine the im¬
pulse of balls, 610—on Leibnitz’s
law of continuity, 133—on the rifle,
XI. 38—on gunnery, 43, 86—his ex¬
periments on the resistance of the
air, XVIII. 115, 116—on projectiles,
646, 654.
Robins’s filter, IX. 582.
Robinson (John), one of the early Inde¬
pendents, XII. 260.
   (Mr), Lord Ripon, the wine-
duties reduced by, XXI. 122.
 (Owen), notice of his scapement,
VI. 793.
 (Sir Richard), XIX. 303.
Robison (Dr John), XIX. 303—on the
arch, III. 393—on capillary attrac¬
tion, XII. 41—on magnetism, XIII.
689, 698, 704, 724, 726, 729—on the
teeth of wheels, XIV. 422—on theo-
ROB—ROE
ries of harmony, XV. 606—on the
strength of ropes, XIX. 459—on the
steam-engine, XX. 570—his experi¬
ments on the force of steam, 579—on
the mathematical law which connects
that force with the temperature, 592
—on Newcomen’s steam-engine, 625
—on Watt’s steam-engine, 638—on
the telescope, XXI. 142.
Robison (Sir John), on the effect of ba¬
rometric changes upon ebullition,
XX. 574—his mercurial letter-ba¬
lance, XXI. 839.
Robley (Mr), his culture of the bread-
fruit, V. 213; of cotton, VII. 405.
Roborants, XIX. 307.
Rocab, XIX. 307.
Roccellic acid, VIII. 309.
Rochdale, XIX. 307—canal, XVI. 18.
Roche (Prof.), his formula representing
law of relation between temperature
and force of steam, XX. 595.
Roche-Bernard, XIX. 307.
Rocheciiouart, XIX. 307.
Rochefort, XIX. 307—British expe¬
dition against, V. 384.
Rochefoucault (Francis Duke de La),
XIX. 307—influence of his writings,
I. 54, 55,56—Voltaire’s and Johnson’s
opinions of, 54—manner in which he
polished his writings, ib.—the ten¬
dency of his maxims unfavourable to
morality, ib.—excellent private cha¬
racter of, 55—narrow sphere in which
he studied mankind, ib.—reasons why
his name should bo united with Mon¬
taigne’s, ib.
Rochelle, in France, XIX. 307.
Rochester, in Kent, XIX. 307.
   (Earl of). See Wilmot.
Rochford, in Essex, XIX. 308.
Rochon (Monsieur), his micrometers,
XV. 17, 19—his types, XVIII. 567.
Rocks, blasting of, IV. 675—boring of,
V. 5—simple and compound, XV. 178
—stratified, 180; XVII. 509—unstrati¬
fied, XV. 185; XVII. 509—in gar¬
dening, X. 329.
Rock-crystal, XV. 127—specific gravity
of, XII. 34, 35—refraction of, XVI.
487, 501.
Rock-salt, XV. 138—British mines of,
XV. 248. See Salt-Mines.
Rocket, XIX. 308 ; XVIII. 758.
Rocking stones, VIII. 207 ; XX. 736.
Rockingham (Marquis of), his adminis¬
tration, V. 422 — his patronage of
Burke, 713.
— , forest of, XVI. 251.
Rockwood, in mineralogy, XV. 154.
Rocky Mountains, in North America,
XIX. 308 ; XV. 304; XXI. 451.
Rocou, VIII. 320; XL 23.
Rocquancourt, aqueduct of, III. 320.
Rocroy, in France, XIX. 309.
Rod, fishing, III. 136, 138.
Rodentia, XIV. 129—their bones, III.
3, et seq.—muscles, 18 — organs of
smell, 21—nervous system, 30—teeth,
33—intestines, 37—structure, XVII.
705.
Roderick, king of the Goths in Spain,
XX. 493.
Rodez, in Franco, XIX. 309.
Rodgers (Lieut.), his anchor, III. 109.
Rodil (General), XX. 511.
Rodney (Geo. B.), Lord Rodney, XIX.
309 ; XX. 226 ; V. 414, et seq.—Tie
Grasse defeated by, 421.
Rodolph of Hapsburg, IV. 219; XXI.
43.
Rodosto, Turkish city, XIX. 310.
Rodrigue, island, XIV. 333.
Rodriguez de Lima, II. 52.
Rodriguez (Don Martin), V. 658.
Roe, XIV. 160 ; XIX. 310—river, XIII.
550.
Roe-buck, hunting of, XI. 749.
Roe-deer, a pairing animal, III. 168.
Roebuck (John), XIX. 3L0; XXI. 817.
Roemer (Olaus), XIX. 311—-on the
successive propagation of light, I.
498 ; II. 31; XVI. 361—hisastrono-
ROE—ROM
mical labours, III. 742—on the ther¬
mometer, IV. 393—on the teeth of
wheels, XIV. 352—on the microme¬
ter, XV. 12, 14.
Roermond, in Limburg, XIX. 311.
Roga, XIX. 311.
Rogation, XIX. 311.
Rogation-Week, XIX. 311.
Roger de Hoveden, XIX. 311.
Rogers (Alex.), his telescope, IV. 104.
Roget (Dr), on magnetic curves, XIII.
728—his classification of animal func¬
tions, XVII. 592—his galvanoscope,
XXL 688.
Roggewein’s voyage of discovery, XVIII.
323, 324, 329.
Rogie, falls of, XIX. 485.
Rogognatgunge, XIX. 312.
Rogonatpoor, XIX. 312.
Rohan (Henry Duke of), XIX. 312.
Rohault (James), Cartesian philoso¬
pher, XIX. 312—Dr Clarke’s trans¬
lation of his Physics, VI. 728.
Rohilcund, XIX. 312.
Rohillas, Warren Hastings’s treatment
of the, V. 441; XI. 421.
Roll. See Roller.
Rolland, island, XIX. 313.
Rolle, objections of, to the differential
calculus, I. 534 ; IX. 637.
Roller, XIX. 313—agricultural imple¬
ment, II. 268 — printers’ rollers,
XVIII. 562,563.
 , bird, XVI. 585.
Rolli (Paul), Italian poet, XIX. 313.
Rollin (Charles), XIX. 313.
Rolling of a ship, XIX. 314.
Hollo, XIX. 314; VIII. 709.
  (Dr), his manner of treating
diabetes, VIII. 24.
Rollock (Robert), of Edinburgh, XIX.
314 ; XXL 518.
Rolpah, Hindu town, XIX. 315.
Roma Isle, XIX. 315.
Romaic language, X. 741.
Romagna, in Italy, XIX. 359.
Roman-candle, XVIII. 758.
Roman Catholic Church, the world in¬
debted to, for much of its present en¬
joyments, I. 14—the opposing of re¬
velation to reason, its most objection¬
able tenet, 21.
Roman Catholics, XIX. 315 — in
Buenos Ayres, V. 656—in Canada, VI.
67 — in Ireland, XII. 362, et seq.—
in Russia, XIX. 581—in Scotland, V.
470—their demonology, III. 297—pa¬
ganism mingled with their doctrines,
ib., n. 2 ; 300—riots against, in 1780,
V. 413—Mr Pitt on their emancipa¬
tion, 499 —measures in Parliament
for their relief, 411, 459, 47 0, 545-6,
552, 559, 561., 573—emancipation-act
passed, 576—Irish Catholic Associa¬
tion, 562, 563, 568, 574 ; suppressed,
576—none executed in Edward VI.’s
reign, VIII. 755—history of, XL 491,
et seq.—penal laws against Irish, en¬
acted, XII. 379, 380 ; repealed, 384,
389—their sacraments, XIX. 601—
their superstitions, XX. 812—their
doctrine as to the Lord’s Supper, 814.
See Popery.
Romau-cement, V. 678—plastering with,
680—decay of, on walls, 681.
Roman History, XIX. 360 ; X. 472, et
seq.—invasion of Arabia, III. 341—cap¬
ture of Athens, IV. 127—conquests in
Britain, V. 297, ei seq.—wars with the
Carthaginians, VI. 189, et seq.—Con-
stantinopolitanhistory,VII. 271—cap¬
ture of Corinth, 327—conquest of
Crete, 466—emigrations of barbarians
by whom the empire was overthrown,
VIII. 685—empire, 693—conquests
in Germany, X. 475, etseg.—conquest
of Illyria, XII. 251 ; Judsea, 571 ;
XVI. 751; Macedonia, XIII. 643;
Pergamus, XVII. 230 ; Spain, XX.
490—Niebuhr’s Roman History, XI.
499 ; XII. 293; XVI. 213, et seq.—
wars against the Parthians, XVII,
100, ct seq., 260; Persians, 261; Mith-
BOM
ridates, XVIII. 350. See the Chro¬
nological Table, VI. 665.
Romance, XIX. 318—of the middle
ages, VII. 496—three cyclesof, XVIII.
157—old French, 164.
Romania, in Turkey, XIX. 359.
Romano (Giulio), Italian painter, XIX.
I. 359 ; XVI. 716.
Romans, their acclamations, II. 88—
posture during meals, 90—action at
law, 131—adoption, 160—adoration,
161—mode of punishing adultery, 16G
—advocates, 167—sediles, 170—agri¬
culture, 251; XVIII. 260—anatomi¬
cal knowledge, II. 689—mythology,
III. 256 ; XV. 682; XVIII. 336—
augury. III. 257—remains of their
art, 258—their skill in arch-building,
260—demonology, 296—ignorant of
apprenticeships, 310—first employed
the arch extensively, 417—their ar¬
chitecture, ib., 422, 443, 473—car¬
pentry and joinery, 419—domestic
architecture, .431, 444—numerals,
532 ; VI. 322—army. III. 589—ar¬
mour, 592—artificers, 632—bakers,
IV. 294, 295—hanqueting-rooms, 351
basilica:, 426—hatha, 44i ; XXI. 236
dining-couches, IV. 512—biscuit, 651
—bricks, V. 258—burials, 712—burn¬
ing of the dead, 7 2.4—hurying-places,
746—calendar, VI. 3, et seq., 653-4—
camps, 43—candles, 78—caps, 108—
treatment of captives, 130—camps in
Britain, 234 ; VIII. 291 ; XII. 723-
other remains there, XIII. 210 ; XV.
572, 581 ; XX. 790—encouragement
of marriage, VI. 271—citizens, 706—
cock-fighting, VII. 14—coins, 31 ;
XII. 292; XIV. 463, et seq.; XV.
397 ; XX. 159—colonies, VII. 112—
comitia, 152—tribes, 153—commerce,
157—mines, 159—concubinage, 197
—consuls, 291—crowns, 483—danc¬
ing, 613—theatric declamation, 664
—dials, 759—dictators, VIII. 9—
divorce, 71—draining, 137—drama,
151—dyeing, 296—silk, 300 — stan¬
dard of the eagle, 390—feasts, IX. 497
—funeral rites and orations, X. 258,
259 ; XII. 329—gardens, X. 319—
geographical discoveries, 391—ma¬
thematical knowledge, 428—gladia¬
tors, 530 ; II. 668 ; VIII. Pi. 104-
glass-manufacture, X. 563—gymnas¬
tics, XI. 94—trade with India, 387-
horsemanship, 607—hunting, 739—
hydrostatical knowledge, XII. 2; III-
320—cruelty to the mullet, XII. 172
—prized the murmna, 224—their
images, 242—sacrifices to the souls
of the dead, 271—informers, 273-
inscriptions, 292—numismatics, ib.;
XIV. 4:63, et seq,—laws against usury,
XII. 322—irrigation, 455—religious
toleration, 573—kissing, 741—laws,
XIII. 172, 181 (see Civil Law)-lib-
raries, 289—lotteries, 569—customs
when in love, 578—luxury, 602-
masonry, XIV. 286—mills, 350—me¬
dical jurisprudence, 490—census, XL
513—woods cut down in Britain by.
572—mourning, 585—nobles, XVI
236 — painting, 705 — pantomimes,
XVII. 2—origin, 408—language, ib-
(see Latin)—literature, 411—pbF
siognomists, 576 — poetry', XVIII
152—neglect of trade and political
economy, 260 ; XIV. 590—couriers,
XVIII. 486—seals, 538—roads,XIX-
298 ; in Britain, XXI. 821; IV. 586
— sacrifices, XIX. 604, 605—sculp¬
ture, !sx. 8—senate, 90—sesterce,
159—ships, 211—shoes, 299-slavery.
382—want of statistics, 567—know¬
ledge of sugar, 790—surgery, 823-
names of persons, 846—legacy-duties,
XXL 117—signals, 137-temples, 17r
—tombs, 324—triumphs, 388—mea¬
sures, 846 ; VII. 200—weights, XXI
848—woollen-manufactures, 925. S' -
Roman History, Rome.
Romans, French city, XIX. 359.
INDEX
133
ROM—EOF
Komanus Diogenes, VII. 284—liis war
with, the Turks, II. 538.
Romanzovite, specific gravity of, XII. 35.
Romas on the electrical nature of light¬
ning, VIII. 618.
Romblon, island, XIX. 359.
Rome (ancient), destitute of academies,
II. 66—amphitheatres in, 668; III.
443 — aqueducts, 317 — streets, 445
—cloacae, 417 ; V. 269; VI. 765—ar¬
chitecture of,'III. 417, 443 —built
of brick, 418—capitol, VI. 123—Had
the houses chimneys ? 54 6— era of
its foundation, 654 —circus, 705 —
architectural remains of, III. 444, et
seq., 460, et seq.—theatres, VIII. 152
—plan of, XIX., PI. CCCCXXXVI.
 (Modern), XIX. 424—Academy
of Lincei, II. 69—Academy of Paint¬
ing, 74—Academies of Belles Lettres,
76—alum of, 575—state of the fine
arts at, III. 266—aqueducts, 318—
dome of St Peter’s, 391, 426; and of
the Farnese palace,426—architecture
of St Peter’s, ib., 429, 457-8; XV. 6
—ancient architectural remains, III.
444, et seq., 460, et seg.—Farnese pa¬
lace, 426, 453, 459—pantheon, 443,
444, 458 ; XVI. 791—temple of Jupi¬
ter Stator, III. 460—catacombs,, VI.
238—centre employed for the nave of
St Peter’s, 284—libraries, XIII. 308-
coins, XV. 408, 411—school of paint¬
ing, XVI. 714—early pi-inting, XVIII.
548 —measures, XXI. 847, 855—
weights, 848, 855.
Rome de ’Isle (Monsieur), on crystalli¬
zation, VII. 511.
Romford, in Essex, XIX. 439.
Romiely (Sir Samuel), XIX.439—cha¬
racter of, I. 378 ; VIII. 265—his
friendship with Dumont, ib.
Romme on seamanship, XX. 257.
Romney (New), XIX. 439—embank¬
ment of Romney marsh, VIII. 676.
 , painter, XVI. 726.
RoaroRANTiN, XIX. 439.
Rompee, in heraldry, XIX. 439.
Romsey, in Hants, XIX. 439.
Romulus, XIX. 361.
 Augustulus, XIX. 423.
Rona, island, XIX. 439.
Ronalds (F.), his electrical machine,
VIII. 576 — his electric telegraph,
582, 662—on the electricity of the
air, 615—his pendulum doubler of
electricity, 653—his improvements on
electrometers, 660—his electrograph,
661—his atmospherical conductor,
662.
Roncesvalles, XIX. 439.
Ronda, XIX. 439.
Ronsard (Peter de), XIX. 439—cha¬
racter of his poetry, XVIII. 164.
Rood, measure, XIX. 439.
Roof, XIX. 439—arched roofs of Ro¬
man edifices, III. 260—tile-roofs, V.
*>71—slater’s work, 682—plumber’s
work, 693; XVIII. 62. Seo Car¬
pentry.
Rook, bird, XVI. 584.
Rook-shooting, XX. 307.
Rooke (Sir George), XIX. 457 ; V. 366,
368—his capture of Gibraltar, 369.
Rooms, proportion and arrangement of,
III. 462.
Roonay, in Bengal, XIX. 458.
Roonhuysen, XX. 829.
Roopnager, XIX. 458.
Roopoor, Hindu town, XIX. 458.
Roorterpoor, *XIX. 439.
Roosting, provision for, XVII. 710.
Roots of plants, V. 31—absorbents in,
III. -55—bark of, 64-—structure of,
87—mode of growth of, 89—nutrition
derived by plants through, 157—rela¬
tion between branches and, XXI. 292-
3 facility with which they seek out
the best localities, 293—functions of,
581.
“ (square and cube), extraction of
the, HI. sec.
Ropes, XIX. 458 — Coulomb on the
EOF—ROT
stiffness of, VII. 426—shortened by
moisture, XII. Ill—rigidity of, XIV.
417 — use of, in machinery, 446—
strength of, XX. 755, 756.
Rope-making, XIX. 460—at Woolwich,
VIII. 82—at Plymouth, 85—rope-ma¬
chine, XIV. 364.
Rope-dancing, VII. 615 ; XIV. 380.
Rophites, insects, IX. 233.
Roque (St), in Spain, XIX. 471.
Rorqual, in zoology, XIV. 186.
Rosa (Salvator), XIX. 471.
Rosacem, in botany, V. 107.
Rosalgate, XIX. 471.
Rosamond, XIX. 471 ; XIII. 465.
Rosaria de Cucuta, XVI. 779.
Rosario, in Mexico, XIV. 818.
Rosas, Spanish city, XIX. 471.
 (Monsieur de), V. 660.
Rosbach, battle of, XVIII. 674; XXI.
750.
Roschild, Danish town, VII. 725.
Roscius (Q.), XIX. 472; VIII. 152.
Roscoe (William), XIX. 472; VII. 554
—his improvement of Chat Moss, II.
314—on the opportuneness of the in¬
vention of printing, IV. 625.
Roscommon, XIX. 477.
 (W. Dillon, Earl of), XIX. 480.
Rose, in heraldry, XI. PI. CCLXXVII.
 (Hugh), on botany, V. 83.
 op Jericho, XIX. 480.
Rose-window, III. 470.
Roses, V. 107—culture of, XI. 679—es¬
sential oil of, XIX. 480—wars of the,
VIII. 735-9.
Roseae, in botany, V. 107.
Rosehearty, XIX. 481.
Rosellini on ancient Egyptian monu¬
ments, XI. 358.
Rosenau, XIX. 481.
Rosengyn, island, XIX. 481.
Roseto, Italian city, XIX. 481.
Rosetta, XIX. 481; II. 230—attacked
by the British in 1807, VIII. 497—
—trilingual stone of, 560; XI. 306,
316, 338, n.
Rosetti (G. V.), on dyeing, VIII. 296.
Rosicrucians, sect of philosophers,
XIX. 481; IV. 384 ; VI. 347.
Rosini (Signor), XI. 269.
Roslin, XIX. 482 ; VIII. 430.
Ross, in Herefordshire, XIX. 482.
 , or Ross Carbery, in the county
Of Cork, XIX. 483; VII. 329.
 (A.), his microscope, XV. 28.
 (General), V. 538.
 (Sir John), his arctic voyages of
discovery, X. 757 ; XVIII. 220-2.
Rossano, Academy of, II. 69.
Rossi (M. P.), on punishment, XVIII.
734.
Rossiano, XIX. 483.
Ross-shire, XIX. 483—fisheries of, IX.
601—vitrified fort in, 756.
Rost, German poet, X. 493.
Rostak, in Arabia, XlX. 489.
Rostan (M.), oh cerebral disease, XVII.
478, 488, 492—on cancer of the sto¬
mach, 490.
Rostellaria, mollusca, XV. 357.
Rostock, German city, XIX. 489.
Rostow, Russian city, XIX. 489.
Rostra, XIX. 489.
Rostrknmus, bird, XVI. 563.
Rostrum of a ship, XIX. 489.
Rosyngen, IV. 340.
Rot, in sheep, XIX. 489 ; XXI. 627.
 '(Dry). See Dry Rot.
Rota, XlX. 489.
Rota Aristotelica, XIX. 489.
Rotalia, in eonchology, XV. 345.
Rotation, XIX. 490 ; VIII. 387 ; XIV.
353, 454—Atwood on, IV. 188—Lan-
den’s theory of, XIII. 56.
Rotatory steam-engines, XX. 663.
Roth (Dr), botanist, V. 80.
Rotharis, Lombard king, XIII. 466.
Rothbury, XIX. 505.
Rotiienburg, XIX. 505.
Rothenfels, XIX. 505.
Rother, river, VII. 735—its navigation,
XVI. 18.
EOT—EOY
Rotherham, XIX. 505.
   Plough, II. 266.
Rothesay, V. 751.
Rothiere (La), battle of, X. 166.
Rothweet., XIX. 505,
Rotondo, XIX. 505.
Rotterdam, XIX. 505.
Rottingdean, XIX. 505.
Rotula. See Patella.
Roubaix, XIX. 505.
Roubiliac, sculpture of, XX. 9.
Rouble, Russian coin, XV. 400, 411 ;
XIX. 574, n. 1.
Roucou, III. 235 ; VII. 706—specific
gravity of, XII. 35.
Roudelet, ichthyologist, XII. 151.
Rouen, in France, XIX. 505—cotton-
manufacture of, VII. 417.
Rouge, VIII. 310.
Rough-cast, V. 681.
Roughness, perception of, XIV. 609.
Rouloul, bird, XVI. 611.
Roum, coast of, IV. 661.
Rounda, Hindu town, XIX. 506.
Roundaft, in ship-building, XX. 278.
Roundelay, XIX. 506.
Roundheads, V. 321.
Round-house, XIX. 506.
Round Table, Knights of the, VI.
612.
Round Towers. See Towers.
Rounds, XIX. 506.
Rous (Sir John), V. 421.
Rouse (Mr), of Leicestershire, pneuma¬
tic experiments of, XVIII. 115.
Rousseau (James), painter, XIX. 506.
  (John Baptist), XIX. 506 —
poetry of, XVIII. 165.
 (John-James), XIX. 507 ; VIII.
264—on the origin and history of
language, 1.174—merits of his Emile,
184—his quarrel with Diderot, VIII.
16—on double employment in music,
123—on education, 440 ; I. 184—his
objection to the right of property,
XVIII. 276 — character of his ro¬
mances, XIX. 354.
Rousselaer, XIX. 509.
Roussette, in zoology, XIV. 99.
Roux (Polydore), on the acidd liquor of
ants, III. 243—on birds, XVI. 551.
Roveredo, XIX. 509.
Rovigno, XIX. 509.
Rovico, XIX. 509.
Roving of cotton, X. 557—Smith’s rov¬
ing-machine, XX. 540.
Rowe (Nicholas), XIX. 509—dramatic
works of, VIII. 174.
   (Elizabeth), XIX. 510.
Rowe’s diving-machine, VIII. 63.
Rowel, in farriery, XIX. 510.
Rowell, or Rothwell, XIX. 505.
Rowley (Thomas), XIX. 510 — Chat-
terton’s forged poems of, V. 619 ; VI.
335 ; XXL 442.
 (William), XIX. 510.
 Regis, XIX. 510.
Rowning (John), XIX. 510.
Roxburgh (Dr William), on the plants
of India, V. 77—on the .silk-worms of
India, XX. 352.
 Castle, XIX. 513.
Roxburghshire, XIX. 510.
Roy Bareilly, Hindu town, XIX. 513.
Roy (Monsieur le), his work on Greek
ruins, III. 430.
 (General),his barometrical mea¬
surements, I. 614 ; IV. 399, 400—bis
measurement of the difference of lon¬
gitude between Greenwich and Paris,
IX. 549—his map of Scotland, XXI.
351—his share in the trigonometrical
survey of Britain, ib.—his standard
Scale, 360.
Royal, XIX. 513.
 , in gunnery, XI. 7S.
 — Academies, II. 69, et seq.
 Canal, in Ireland, XVI. 23.
 Family, XIX. 513.
 George man-of-war, XX. 227—
sinking of the, V. 422.
—— Institution,in Edinburgh, VIII.
420.
EOY—ETJM
Royal Military Canal, XVI. 18.
   Military College, II. 79.
  Oak, XIX. 514.
  Society, XX. 434 ; XIII. 531—
establishment and influence of, I. 47 ;
IV. 388 ; XVIII. 72—Sir H. Davy’s
conduct as president of, VII. 642—
library of, XIII. 297.
  Society of Edinburgh, VIII.
420 ; XX. 434.
Roymungul, river, XIX. 514.
Royston, in Hertford, XIX. 514,
Rozier (Pilatre de). See Pilatre.
Rshow Waldimirow, XIX. 514.
Ruabon, in Wales, XIX. 514.
Ruanelli, in Ceylon, XIX. 514.
Rubber (India). See Caoutchouc.
Rubble walls, V. 674.
Rubens (Sir Peter Paul), XIX. 514;
XVI. 703—character of his pictures,
721; III. 648.
Rubiaeese, in botany, V. 115.
Rubicon, Italian river, XVII. 5—Ceesar’s
passage of the, XIX. 396.
Rubin, island, XIX. 516.
Ruble, Russian coin, XV. 400, 411;
XIX. 574, n. 1.
Rubric, in canon law, XIX. 516.
Rubruquis (W. de), III. 697 ; X.
397.
Ruby, XIX. 516; X. 378—crystalliza¬
tion of, VII. 523—specific gravity of,
XII. 35, 37 —oriental, XV. 155—
spinel, ib.
Ruby-blende, in mineralogy, XV. 170.
Ruby-type, XXI. 436.
Rucelleri, VIII. 157.
Ruckert, German poet, XVIII. 168.
Ructation, XIX. 516.
Rudbeck (Glaus), XIX. 516; XVII.
728—his discovery of the distinction
between the laeteals and lymphatics,
II. 698.
Rudberg (Professor), optical experi¬
ments of, XVI. 486.
Rudder, XIX. 516—its action on a ship,
XX. 46, 245—useless in balloons, II.
184.
Ruddiman (T.), XIX. 516; XVIII. 555
—his edition of George Buchanan’s
works, V. 633, 718—Chalmers’s Life
of, VI. 309.
Rudding (Rev. Roger), on the coinaga
of Britain, VII.-32—on pixing, 53.
Rudgeley, XIX. 516.
Rudiments, XIX. 519.
Rudolp of Hapsburg ,XXI. 43; IV. 219.
Rudolph! on the villi of the ileum, II.
816—on the cells and pores of plants,
III. 59, 68—on intestinal worms, XXI.
992, et seq.
Rudolstadt, XIX. 516.
Rudraprayaga, XIX. 519.
Rudyerd (John), XX. 16.
Rue (Charles de la), XIX. 519.
Ruff, bird, XVI. 624.
Ruffe, fish, XII. 169.
Ruffiiead (Dr Owen), XIX. 519.
Ruffus of Ephesus, bis anatomical know¬
ledge, II. 689.
Rufinus, XIX. 519.
Rufus, Roman surgeon, XX. 824.
Rugby, iji Warwickshire, XlX. 520.
Rugen, IV. 329.
Rugenwald, XlJi. 520.
Ruhnkenius (David), XIX. 520.
Ruib Isle, XIX. 520.
Rule, XIX. 520.
Rules of Court, XIX. 520.
Rulhiere (Monsieur), on the partition of
Poland, IV. 312.
Rullion Green, battle of, V. 349.
Rum, XIX. 520—manufacture of, VIII.
52.
Rumbo, XIX. 520.
Rumbold (Sir Thomas), his gains i*i
India, V. 430.
Rumelia, coast and ports of, IV. 660.
Rumford (Count). See Thompson (Sir
Benjamin.)
Ruminantia, XIV. 154—their bones,
III. 3, et seq.—muscles, 18—organs of
smgll, 21—eves, 24—ears, 25—tongue,
134
INDEX,
HUM—RUS
27—nervous system, 30—teeth, 33—
oesophagus, 35—stomach, ib.—intes¬
tines, 37—structure, XVII. 708.
Rumination, process of, XVII. 708.
Rump Parliament, V. 332.
Rumsey, XIX. 439.
Rumsey’s steam boat, XX. 688.
Run or Ruan, Hindu morass, XIX. 520 ;
VII. 563.
Runaua, XIX. 521.
Runciman (Alexander), XIX. 521.
Rungpook, XIX. 522.
Rungpore, XIX. 522 ; III. 707.
Runic, XIX. 522—alphabet, II. 549—
mythology, YIII 410—inscriptions,
XIII. 85. See Danes, Goths.
Runject Singh, XI. 440 ; XIII. 20.
Runn (the), XIX. 520 ; VII. 563.
Runner, XIX. 522.
Runnet, or Rennet, XIX. 522.
Running, muscles used in, II. 797.
Runnymede, VIII. 722.
Rupee, XIX. 522; XI. 425, n.; XV.
408, 410—lac of rupees, XIII. 5; IV.
764, n.
Rupellaria, in conchology, XV. 342.
Rupert (Prince), XIX. 522; V. 343—
his military operations in England,
324, et seq.—not the inventor of mez-
zotinto engraving, XV. 2.
Rupert’s Drops, XIX. 522—electrical
flash at the bursting of, VIII. 601.
Rupicola, bird, XVI. 577.
 , in conchology, XV. 342.
Rupnagur, XIX. 522.
Ruppin, XIX. 522.
Rupture. See Hernia.
Ruree, XX. 361.
Ruric, XIX. 527.
Rusa, in zoology, XIV. 160.
Rcsciud, river, XIX. 523.
Ruscsuk, Turkish city, XIX. 523.
Ruselius, VII. 285.
Rush (Benj.) XIX. 523; XX. 830.
Rushworth (John), XIX. 524.
Russ, island,.XIX. 525.
Russell (Admiral), V. 366.
— (Dr A.), on the plague, XVII.
773, et seq.
  (John), his account of Beeth¬
oven, IV. 538.
 (Lord John), his measures for
obtaining parliamentary reform, V.
553, 556, 558, 578, 581.
 (Dr Patrick), on inoculation for
small-pox, XII. 283—on the plague,
XVII. 772, et seq.
 (Prof.) his air-pump, XVIII. 88
—on the resistance of fluids, XIX.
186—his contrivance for water-pipes,
XXI. 793.
   (William), historian, XIX. 525.
 . See Bedford.
Russell’s lock, XIII. 406.
Russellville, in Kentucky, XII. 699.
Russia, XIX. 527—statistics of, IX. 416
—history, XI. 484—Imperial Acade¬
my of Sciences, II. 71—Academy of
Arts, 73—American colonies, 648—
geographical discoveries, XVIII. 220,
223, 224 ; in North America, II. 402;
in Asia, III. 697—settlements and
commeree in the Aleutian Isles, 11.406
—army, III. 606—Asiatic commerce,
699—policy of Austria towards, IV.
238—Baltic coast of, 330—Baltic and
Caspian canals, 331—Bible Society,
620—commerce and fleet on the Black
Sea, 662—botanists, V. 79—Armed
Neutrality, 415; VII. 723—designs
against France in 1791, V. 461—com¬
mercial intercourse with China, VI. 581
—Cossacks, VII. 383; VIII. 109—cot¬
ton-manufacture, VII. 420—czar,579—
trade with England, VIII. 779—fairs
in, IX. 477—wars with France, X.
113, 14.5, 153; V. 486—Napoleon’s
invasion of, X. 154; XV. 731—French
trade with, X. 190—American fur-
trade, 263—hemp, XI. 230—Europe
in no danger from, it>\>—rate of in¬
terest in, XII. 327—trade with Fin-
mark, XIII. 112 — legislation in,
RUS—RZE
192—libraries, 315 — variation of
the needle in, 733, 736—mines of,
XV. 251, et se?.—history of money
of, 400 — coins of, 408, 411—in¬
land navigation, XVI. 4 — newspa¬
pers, 173—heights of mountains,
XVII. 505 — wars with the Poles,
XVIII. 195, etseq.; with the Prus¬
sians, 673—increase of population,
411—religion, XIX. 316 —Siberia,
XX. 324—invaded by Gustavus Adol¬
phus, XXI. 17—wars with Sweden,
20, et seq.; V. 451—commerce with
Tartary, XXI. 85 — ancient sepul¬
chres, 324—computation of tonnage
of ships, 329—wars with Turkey, 413,
416,417; V. 459; VII. 723—weights
and measures, XXI. 855,847—map of,
XIX. PI. 437 and 438. See Kamts-
chatka, &c.
Russians, their skulls, II. 784—military
character, III. 608—alphabets, II.
548—Bibles, IV. 617—not permitted
to trade with Japan, XII. 522—trade
on the Caspian Sea, XVII. 246—ori¬
gin and language, 420—different class¬
es of, XIX. 579.
Russian Company, VII. 181 ; XIX. 536,
539.
 American Company, II. 406.
Russooa, in Tibet, XIX. 590.
Russoolpoor, XIX. 590.
Rust, XIX. 590.
Rutacese, in botany, V. 104.
Rutese, in botany, V. 104.
Rustic, in architecture, XIX. 590.
 Gods, XIX. 590.
 Work, in building, XIX. 591.
Rustre, in heraldry, XIX. 591; XI.
252. .
Rutela, insect, IX. 157.
Ruth, Book of, XIX. 591.
Rutherford (Dr John), his register-ther¬
mometer, I. 647 ; XIV. 725.
 (Mr), his application of clock
work to locks, VI. 784.
Rutherglen, XIX. 591 ; XIII. 50.
Ruthin, XIX. 591—Castle, VII. 717.
Ruthven, Raid of, XIX. 742.
Rutile, in mineralogy, XV. 160—speci¬
fic gravity of, XII. 35.
Rutilite, specific gravity of, XII. 35.
Rutilus, angling for, III. 147.
Rutlamgur, XIX. 591.
Rutlandshire, XIX. 591.
Rutnagiri, XIX. 592.
Rutting season of animals, III, 169 ;
XIV. 156.
Ruttunpore, XIX. 592.
Ruuscher on cochineal, VIII. 307.
Ruysch (Frederick), XIX. 59:2 ; XVII.
728; XX. 829—anatomical discove¬
ries of, II. 699—on birds, XVI. 546
—on the glands, XVII. 648.
Ruyschian membrane in various ani-
. mals, III. 23.
Rutsselede, XIX. 592.
Rutter (M. A. de), XIX. 592 ; V. 343,
344, 347 ; XI. 524.
Ryacotta, Indian town, XIX. 593.
Ryagudd, Hindu town, XIX. 593.
Ryciioor, Hindu town, XIX. 593.
Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, JfIX. 593;
XXL 882.
Rydiol, river, VI. 137.
Rydroog, Hindu towm, XIX. 593.
Rye, in Sussex, XIX. 593.
 , a grain, culture of, II. 282—
constituents of, IV. 300—rye-bread,
IV. 300.
Ryegrass, culture of, II. 291.
Ryehouse Plot, V. 354.
Ryepoor, Hindu town, XIX. 593.
Rylst, Russian city, XIX. 593.
Rymer (Thomas), XIX. 593—his dra¬
matic criticism, VIII. 173-4.
Rynabad, XIX. 594.
Ryots, XIX. 594 ; XI. 450.
Rypticus, fish, XII. 169.
Ryssonotus, insect, IX. 162.
Ryswick, XIX. 594—peace of, V. 367.
Ryzaena, in zoology, XIV. 119.
Rzeszow, XIX. 594.
SAA—SAD
s
S, letter of the alphabet, XIX. 594.
Saade, Arabian town, XIX. 594.
Saadias’s Arabic Bible, IV. 616.
Saarbruck, Prussian city, XIX. 594.
Saar-Louis, Prussian city, XIX. 594.
Saasa, in Palestine, XIX. 594.
Saatz, Bohemian city, XIX. 594.
Saavedra (Michael de Cervantes), XIX.
594—novels of, 350 ; I. 96—dramas
of, XVIII. 163.
 (Alvarez de), his visit to Papua,
IV. 211.
Sabacon, king of Egypt, VIII. 466.
Saban, III. 340.
Sabagan Islands, XIX. 595.
Sabatier, French surgeon, XX. 829—
his System of Anatomy, II. 704—on
hydrodynamics, XII. 7.
Sabazia, Greek mysteries, XIX. 595.
Sabbatarians, sect, XIX. 595.
Sabbath, XIX. 595—its observance in
England in the reign of James the
First, V. 305.
Sabbath-Breaking, XIX. 599.
Sabbathier (Monsieur), his account of
the Babylonians, IV. 270.
Sabbatiere (Abbe), X. 43.
Sabbatini (G.), XXI. 252.
Sabbea, Arabian town, XIX. 599.
Sabeia, island, XIX. 599.
Sabella, worm, XI. 218.
 , in conchology, XV. 349.
Sabellians, sect, XIX. 599.
Sabians, sect, XIX. 599.
Sabine (Major), on the pendulum, XVII.
202, 204.
Sabinus (George), poet, XIX. 599.
Sabionetta, Italian city, XIX. 600.
Sable, in zoology, XIV. 109 ; XX. 325.
 (Cape), XIX. 600.
 , in heraldry, XIX. 60d; XI. 244.
 Island, XVI. 287.
Sables d’ Olonne (Les), XIX. 600.
Sabon, island, XIX. 600.
Sabrao, island, XIX. 600.
Sabre, kind of sword, XIX. 600.
Sa B.ulagh, Persian town, XIX. 600.
1 Sacadina, V. 10.
Sac.ea, Babylonian feast, XIX. 600.
Saccharometer, XIX. 600 ; V. 231.
Saccharum, XIX. 600. See Sugar.
Sacheverel (Dr Henry), XIX. 600.
Sachsenspiegel, code, XII. 650.
Sack, a wine, XIX. 600.
Sackbut, XIX. 600.
Sackville (Charles), XIX. 601.
 (Lord George), V. 385.
 (Lord), V. 419.
  (Thomas), Lord Buckhurst,
XIX. 600—poetry of, XVIII. 169.
Sacmara, river, XIX. 601.
Sacrament, XIX. 601—bread used at,
V. 214—Popish sacraments, XVIII.
405. See Baptism, Communion,
Eucharist.
 (Congregation of the Holy),
in France, XIX. 601.
Sacramentarians, XIX. 601.
Sacramentary, XIX. 602.
Sacred, XIX. 602—sacred Majesty, ib.'
Sacrifices, XIX. 602—of the North
American Indians, II. 620—by the
ancient Romans to the souls of the
dead, XII. 271.
 (Human), XX. 797—in Ashan-
tee, III. 669—in Dahomey, VII. 587
—by the Druids, VIII. 204—in In¬
dia, XI. 401—in Mexico, XIV. 759.
Sacrilege, XIX. 607.
Sacristan, XIX. 607.
Sacristy, XIX. 607.
Sacrum, human, II. 759, 761.
Sacy, XIV. 46.
 — (Isaac le Maitre de), his French
Bible, IV. 616.
 (Baron Silvestre de), on hiero¬
glyphics, XI. 306, 315.
Sadda, XXI. 985.
SAD—SAI
Saddle, XI. 610, 620.
Saddle-galls in horses, XXI. 636.
Sadducees, XIX. 607 ; VI. 133.
Sadi, Persian poet, XY1I. 253.
Sadler (John), lawyer, XIX. 608.
 (Michael Thomas), XIX. 608.
 (Sir Ralph), XIX. 727.
Sado, island, XIX. 609.
Sadoc, Jewish rabbi, XIX. 609.
Sadolet (James),Italian cardinal, XIX.
609 ; XXL 890.
Sadras, Indian town, XIX. 609.
Safad, in Palestine, XIX. 609.
Safadins, VIII. 486.
Safety-gun, XI. 39.
Safety-lamp, Sir H. Davy’s, XIII. 46;
VII. 641 ; XV. 245.
Safety-plugs of steam-engines, XX. 682.
Safety-valve of steam-engines, XX. 643.
Safflower, dye-stuff, VIII. 310.
Saffron, XIX. 609—colouring^matter
of, VI. 485—used as a dye-stuff, VIII.
321—its culture in Bacoo, XIX. 589.
Saffron-Walden, in Essex, XIX. 609.
Saffy, in Morocco, XIX. 609.
Safia, Arabian river, XIX. 609.
Safra, Arabian town, XIX. 609.
Saga, XVI. 257.
Sagaing, XIX. 609.
Sagan, XIX. 610.
Saganak, in Tartary, XIX. 610.
Saganeer, Hindu town, XIX. 610.
Sagapenum, VI. 491.
Sagara Nacken Bay, XIX. 610.
Sagarawida Bay, XIX. 610.
Sagarelli (Gerhard), III. 293.
Sage (Alain Rene Le), XIX. 610—no¬
vels of, 352, 353.
 (M. Le), on gravitation, I. 135.
 (John), clergyman, XIX. 610.
Sagging of ships, XX. 285.
Sagitta, XIX. 611.
Sagittal suture, II. 782.
Sago, XIX. 611; VI. 477—of Java,
XII. 529.
Sagor, island, XIX 611.
Sagouin, in zoology, XIV. 95.
Sagra, insect, IX. 181.
Sagres, Portuguese town, XIX. 612.
Sagrides, insects, IX. 181.
Saguenay, river, VI. 58.
Sagum, XIX. 612.
Saguntum, XV. 602—taken by the Car¬
thaginians, VI. L96 ; XX. 490.
Sahabad, Hindu town, XIX. 612.
Sahara, XIX. 612,
Saharunpore, XIX. 613.
Sahlaydun, XIX. 614.
Sahlite, specific gravity of, XII. 35.
Sahwotty, Burmese town, XIX. 614.
Saibgunge, Hindu town, XIX. 614.
Saida, Syrian town, XIX. 614.
Sails of ships, XIX. 614—their heiglit>
&c., XX. 249—inapplicable to bal¬
loons, II. 184—of windmills, XIV.
432, 454—to set, &c. sail, XIX. 614.
Sailing, XIX. 614. See Seamanship.
Sailors, utility of training to, VIII. 25-
impressment of, IX. 21; XII. 255—
desertion of, during war, XIII. 142-
diseases of, XIV. 510—in royal navy,
XVI. 53—discipline of, XX. 58.
Salma, lake, XIX. 565.
Saimiri, in zoology, XIV. 95.
Saint, XIX. 615.
St Andrews. See Andrews (St.)
St Antonio, island, XIX. 615.
St Barbes Isle, XIX. 615.
St Bernardino, straits, XIX. 615.
St Clair, lake, XV. 7.
St George, island, XIX. 615.
St Hilaire (Geoffroy), on the torpedo,
VIII. 611.
St Jago, island, XIX. 615. See Jago.
St Jago, town in Paxo, XII. 341.
St Jago de la Vega, XII. 501.
St John (Henry). See Bolingbroke.
St John’s wort, specific gravity of juic#
of, XII. 36.
St Michael’s, island, XIX. 615.
St Nicholas, island, XIX. 615.
St Peter and St Paul, XIX. 615; Xlh
674-tides at, XXI. 281.
INDEX,
SAI—SAL
SAL
St Pierre, novels of, XIX. 355.
St Servan, French city, XIX. 615.
St Sever, in France, XIX. 615.
St Thome, Indian town, XIX. 615.
St Tropes, French city, XIX. 615.
Saint-Croix (Godin de), a French poi¬
soner, III. 314.
Saint-Cyran on annuities, III. 199.
Saixtes, in France, XIX. 615.
 (Des), islands, XIX. 616.
Saintfoin, culture of, II. 294.
Saipoor, Hindu town, XIX. 616.
Sals, monolithic temple at, VIII. 532.
Sajene, Russian measure, XIX. 616.
Sakertol, Hindu town, XIX. 616.
Saki, in zoology, XIV. 96.
Sakkar, in Hindustan, XIX. 616.
Sal si Puedes, XIX. 616.
Sala, Italian city, XIX. 616.
 (Angelas), VI. 347.
Salad, XIX. 616.
Salads, culture of, XI. 674.
Saladiilo, river, XVIII. 5.
Saladin, XIX. 616 ; VIII. 480-3—his
conquest of part of Arabia, III. 343—
his friendship for Bohaddin, IV. 736
—his war with the crusaders, VII.
485 ; XVI. 756.
Salado (Rio), V. 640.
Salaibskoie, XIX. 616.
Salamanca, in Spain, XIX. 616—battle
of, V. 532.
Salamanders, XIX. 159—vertebra of,
III. 13—case of one which lived two
months without the head, 163—struc¬
ture of, XVII. 715.
Salame, island, XIX. 617.
Salamis, island, XIX. 617.
Sal-ammoniac, II. 659; XV. 138.
Salanx, fish, XII. 200.
Salarius, fish, XII. 192.
Salas (La), V. 14.
Salatr Isle, XIX. 617.
Salcey Forest, XVI. 251.
Saldana (Rio)-, sulphate of alumina from,
II. 574.
Sale, XIX. 617.
Salee, XIX. 619; XV. 506.
Saleh, VIII. 497.
Salem, in Indiana, XII. 266.
 , in Massachusetts, XIV. 304.
Salemi, Sicilian city, XIX. 617,
Salengore, XIX. 617.
Salep, XIX. 617; XI. 732.
Salerno, Italian city, XIX. 617 ; XV.
699—medical school of, XX. 827.
Salford, in Lancashire, XIX. 618.
Sal gem, specific.gravity of, XII. 35.
Saliant, XIX. 618.
Salibabo Isles, XIX. 618.
Salic or Saliqce Law, XIX. 618.
Salicaria, bird, XVI. 576.
Saliearieae, in botany, V. 108.
Saliceto (Gulielmus de), XX. 827.
Salicin, VI. 470.
Salicinem, in botany, V. 130.
Salii, priests of Mars, XIX. 618.
Salim, Russian river, XIX. 618.
Salina, island, XIX. 618 ; XIII. 3)
Salinas on melody, XV. 619.
Salines, French city, XIX. 618.
Salisbury, XIX. 618-cathedral of
422, 455 ; XXI. 891—.spire of ci
dral, III. 388—Salisbury and So
ampton canal, XVI. 18.
’ Wain, XXI. 891—trigonom
cal base on, 355.
Saliva, XIX. 619 ; II. 805 ; XVII.
—chemical character of, VI. 495,
Salivaliana, era of, VI. 664.
Salivary glands, II. 804 ; XVII. 66:
salivation, in medicine, XIX. 61!
Sahvin, VI. 495.
■Salix, XIX. 619. See Willow.
oallawatty, island, XIX. 619.
Sallee, XIX. 619 ; XV. 506.
oalleeolakit, XIX. 619.
■ allenders in horses, XXI. 636.
salhxn, Persian city, XIX. 619.
oallin on poisons, XIV. 492
^allo (Denis de), XIX. 619.
SaiI"DNA’ Hindu town> XIX. 619.
Sallustics (C. Crispus), Roman hi
S
rian,XIX. 619—character of his style,
XVII. 413.
Salluzzo, XIX. 620.
Sally-Ports, XIX. 620.
Salmasius (Claudius), XIX. 620; XI.
312—on baptism, IV. 353—his con¬
troversy with Milton, XV. 97.
Salmo, XII. 204. See Salmon.
 Alpinus, angling for, III. 144.
 Fario, angling for, III. 138.
 Ferox, angling for, III. 142.
 Salvelinus, angling for. III. 144.
 Thymallus, angling for, HI. 144.
Salmon, XII. 204 ; IX. 592—when unfit
for food, 726—angling for, III. 137.
Salmon-fishery, IX. 600 ; XVI. 525—in
the Baltic, IV. 326—Devonshire, VII.
745—Dumbartonshire, VIII. 259—
the Forth, XX. 730—Ireland, XII.
410—the Tweed, IV. 598.
Salmon-roe, its use in trout-fishing, III
142.
Salriion’s reaping-machine, II. 270.
Salmonid®, fishes, XII. 203.
Salo, Italian town, XIX. 620.
  Bay, in Java, XIX. 620.
Salona, XIX. 620.
Salonica, XIX. 620 ; X. 730.
Saloon, Hindu town, XIX. 620.
Saloor, Hindu town, XIX. 620.
Salop. See Shropshire.
Salopar, in Ceylon, XIX. 623.
Salpa,'rnollusca, XV. 371.
Salpingus, insect, IX. 167.
Salpinx, XIX. 623.
Salsette, island on coast of Hindustan,
XIX. 623—caves of, XII. 691.
Salsify, XI. 670.
Salt, XIX. 624—in chemistry, VI. 444
—in mineralogy, XV. 137—analysis
of, VI. 352 ; difficult, and why, 357
—frigorific power of, VII. 60, 62—
crystallization of, 505—efflorescence
of, in various countries, 510—in plants,
XXI. 570—saline secretions of human
body, XVII. 651.
 (Sea or Common), XIX. 624—
its use as a manure, II. 305; and in
the manufacture of chloride of lime,
IV. 682—abundant in Barbary, 361
—cattle fond of, V. 645—mountain of,
at Cardona, VI. 139—alimentary qua¬
lities of, VIII. 21—a preventive of
dry rot, 231—consumption of, in Eng¬
land, 769—its effects on vegetation,
IX. 433—considered as a condiment,
XVII. 625—of the Sahara, XIX. 612,
613—destroys intestinal worms, XXI.
991—saltness of the ocean, XVII. 518
— salting of food, IX. 732.
Salt-deserts of Persia, XVII. 242.
Salt-duty in India, XI. 459—in France,
XXI. 123.
Salt-lakes, XVII. 522—in Buenos Ayres,
V. 641-2—in Russia, XIX. 587.
Salt-manufacture, VII. 511—of Bavaria,
IV. 459 — Bengal, 568—Droitwich,
XXI. 939 ; VIII. 200—Durham, 290
—France, X. 1?9—Spain, XII. 460—
Wiirtemberg, XXI. 946.
Salt-mines, XIX. 624—of Bogota, IV.
733 — Brazil, V. 208, 199 —Britain,
XV. 248—Cheshire, VI. 510—Eng¬
land, VIII. 769—Europe, IX. 410;
XV. 252—Hungary, IV. 230—Xortli-
wich, XVI. 256—Persia, XVII. 243—
Russia, XIX. 567—Tibet, XXI. 256—
Transylvania, 346—Wieliczka, 881.
Salt-plain in Abyssinia, II. 60.
Salt-Springs, XIX. 627 ; XVII. 528—
of Cheshire, VI. 510—Droitwich, VIII.
200 — Durham, 290 — Staffordshire,
XX. 558—the United States of Ame¬
rica, XXI. 454.
Salt (Valley of), XIX. 627.
Salting of food, IX. 732.
Salt (Mr), his travels in Abyssinia, II. 57,
58—on hieroglyphics, 542; XI. 34 7
— his Egyptian discoveries, VIII. 558.
Saltash, Cornish town, XIX. 627.
Saltcoats, in Ayrshire, XIX. 627.
Saltpetre, or Nitre, XIX. 627 ; XV.
138—cooling with, VII. 59, 62—an
SAL—SAM
ingredient of gunpowder, XI. 77, 78
—specific gravity of, XII. 33—coloured
rings in, XVI. 481.
Salta, in La Plata, XVIII. 8.
Saltator, bird, XVI. 571.
Saltatoria, insects, IX. 191.
Salter (T. F.), on trolling for pike, III.
145, 146.
Salters and colliers formerly slaves in
Scotland, XX. 383.
Saltholm, island, IV. 328.
Salticus, araclinides, HI. 364.
Saltier, in heraldry, XI. 250.
Saltskammer, XIX. 627.
Saluem, river, IV. 240.
Salum, XX. 93.
Salute, XIX. 629.
Salvador (St), or Bahia, XIX. 627 ;
XI. 18. See Bahia.
 , in Guatimala, XI. 17, 18.
Salvation, XIX. 628.
Salverte on meteorolites, XIV. 714.
Salviani, ichthyologist, XII. 151.
Salvianus, XIX. 628.
Salving of sheep, II. 334.
Salwathy, island, XIX. 629.
Salzburg, XIX. 629.
Salzwedel, Prussian city, XIX. 629.
Samadong, in Java, XIX. 629.
Samak, island,*XIX. 629.
Samana, Hindu town', XIX. 629.
Samanap, in Madura, XIX. 629.
Samand, Hindu town, XIX. 629.
Samaneans, magicians, XIX. 629.
Samano, VII. 100.
Samar, island, XIX. 630.
Samara, XIX. 630—in botany, V. 48.
Samarang, in Java, XIX. 630.
Samarcand, XIX. 630—cultivation of
. astronomy at, III. 735.
Samaria, in Palestine, XIX. 631 ; XVI.
741, 742, 750.
Samaritans, XIX. 631 ; XI. 487.
Samaritan alphabet, II. PI. 19—Bible,
IV. 615—language, XIII. 83—Pen¬
tateuch, XII. 692 ; XVII. 363 ; XIX.
789.
Samaulies, II. 232'; IX. 378.
Samavat, Syrian town, XIX. 632.
Sambacca, in Sicily, XIX. 632.
Sambah, Hindu town., XIX. 632.
Sambar Point, XIX. 032.
Sambass, XIX. 632; V. 10, 11—its
trade with Singapore, XX. 367.
Sambaya, river, XIX. 632.
Sambelong Islands, XIX. 632.
Samber, Hindu town, XIX, 632.
Sambhar Cape, XIX. 632.
Samboangan, XIX. 632.
Sambor, in Austria, XIX. 632.
Sambuca, XIX. 632.
Sambuceae, in botany, V. 115.
Samiel wind, XVII. 541.
Samman, Arabian town, XIX. 632.
Samneh, temple of, XVI 297.
Samnite war, XIX. 382.
Samogitia, in Poland, XIX. 632.
Samoieda, in Russia, XIX. 632.
Samoieds. See Samoyedes.
Samojedic languages, XIII. 92.
Samolus highly esteemed by the Druids,
VHI. 208.
Samon, island, XIX. 632.
Samos, island, XIX. 632—reduced by
the Athenians, IV. 153.
Samoyedes, XIX. 633 ; IX. 410.
Sampanmango Cape, XIX. 634.
Sampit, in Borneo, XIX. 634.
Sampoo, island, XIX. 634.
Samrongur, Hindu town, XIX. 634.
Samsoe, island, XIX. 634 ; IV. 328.
Samson, XIX. 634.
Samson’s Post, in a ship, XIX. 634.
Samsoon, sea-port, XIX. 634.
Samuel (Books of), XIX. 634.
 , Bulgarian king, VII. 282.
 (Walter), his improvement of the
thrashing-machine, II. 352 ; XIV. 431.
Samulcotta, XIX. 634.
Samur, Persian river, XIX. 634.
Samus, XII. 341.
Samydese, in botany, V. 127.
San, Chinese river, XIX. 634.
SAN
San-benito, XII. 289.
San del Bose, island, IX. 634.
San Jose, in Guatimala, XIX. 19.
San Juan, in Porto-Rico, XVIII. 457.
 , in La Plata, XVIII. 7.
 , river, II. 651, 652.
 , Nelson’s expedition against,
XVI. 82.
San Leon, de Nicaragua, XI. 19.
San Lucar de Barrameda, XIX. 634.
San Luis, in La Plata, XVIII. 7.
  Potosi, in Mexico, XIV. 816.
San Martin (General), VI. 551, et se<j.
San Paloi, island, XIX. 634.
San Paulo, XVII. 159—Jesuits’college
in, V. 190, et seq.—climate of, 200—
population of province of, 201.
San Salvador. See Salvador.
San Sebastian, Spanish city, XIX. 634 ;
XX. 60—captured by the British un¬
der Wellington, V. 534.
Sana, Arabian city, XIX. 634.
Sanadon (Noel Etienne), XIX. 634.
Sanashygotta, XIX. 635.
Sanballat, XIX. 635.
Sancerre, XIX. 635 ; VI. 75.
Sanchez (Francois), XIX. 635.
Sancho, king of Portugal, XVIII. 464.
Sancho-el-Mayor, XX. 496.
SanchoniatHo, XIX. 635 ; XII. 290 ;
XVII. 429 — Bishop Cumberland’s
translation of, VII. 540.
Sancot, Hindu town, XIX. 637.
Sancroft (William), XlX. 637.
Sanctification, XIX. 638.
Sanction, XIX. 638.
Sanctorius, or Sanctorio, XlX. 638—
his invention of the thermometer. I.
640 ; IV. 392—his experiment on the
heat of the moon’s rays, VII. 749.
Sanctuary, XIX. 638—sanctuaries in
Scotland, 757.
Sand, XIX. 638 — fixing of blowing
sands, II. 315 ; VIII. 678—used in
blasting, IV. 677 ; in compounding
mortar, XIV. 288—its encroachment
on fertile land, XVI. 776.
Sand-banks, formation of, VIII. 193.
Sand-crack, XXI. 620.
Sand-eel, XII. 227.
Sand-piper, bird, XVI. 623, 625.
Sand-smelt, fish, XII. 192.
Sand-Stone, XIX. 638—old and new
red, in geology, XV. 197, 200.
Sanda, Hindu town, XIX. 638.
Sandal, XIX. 638.
Sandal-wood, VIII. 332 ; XI. 381.
Sandanah Cape, XIX. 638.
Sandaric, specific gravity of, XH. 35.
Sandarlie, in Asia Minor, XIX. 638.
Sandbach, in Cheshire, XIX. 638.
Sandec, in Austria, XlX. 638.
Sandel, island, XIX. 638.
Sandelwood Isle, XIX. 638.
Sandemanians, XIX. 638.
Sanderling, bird, XVI. 624.
Sanders, a brown dye-stuff, VIII. 332.
Sandford (Sir D.), on Pindar’s poems,
XVIII. 151.
Sandhurst, Military College at, II. 79.
Sanding Isles, XIX. 639.
Sandomir, in Poland, XIX. 639.
Sandpu, river, XIX. 639.
Sandusky, town in Ohio, XVI. 330.
 , river, XVI. 326.
Sandwich, in Kent, XIX. 639.
 , island, XIX. 639.
  Islands, XIX. 639 ; XVIII.
319—bread-fruit of, V. 212—Cook’s
discovery of, VII. 301—volcanoes in,
XVII. 514.
— (Lord), V. 408.
Sandy, Hindu town, XIX. 640.
Sandy Desert, XIX. 640.
Sandy Island, XIX. 640.
Sandys (Sir Edwin), XIX. 640.
 (George), XIX. 640.
 on Palestine, XVI. 739, et seq.
Sang (Edward), on sea-lights, XX. 24.
Sanga, Japanese sea-port, XIX. 640.
Sangala taken by Alexander the Great,
XIII. 636.
Sangallo, architect. III. 426.
136
INDEX
SAN—SAP
— cotton-manufacture, VII. 419 —
Charlemagne’s invasion, X. 8—silver-
mines, XV. 25a—coins, 408, 411—
Sangamsere, XIX. 640.
Sajtganeer, Hindu town, XIX. 640.
Sangak, Hindu town, XIX. 640.
Sanqara, Hindu town, XIX. 641.
Sangrarah, Hindu town, XIX. 641.
Sangir, island, XIX. 641.
Sangoni-a, African town, XII. 759.
Sanguification, XVII. 582, 633.
Sanguine, in heraldry, XI. 244.
 Temperament, XVII. 696; XXI.
173.
Sanguinolaria, mollusca, XV. 341.
Sanguisorbeoe, in botany, V. 107.
Sanguisuga, worm, XI. 225.
Sangur, Hindu town, XIX. 641.
Sanhedrim, XIX. 6415 XII. 571.
Sanjore, Hindu town, XIX. 642.
Sankan, Arabian town, XIX. 642.
Sankey Brook navigation, XVI: 18.
Sanmichele, his merits as an architect,
III. 426.
Sannazarius (James), XIX. 642.
Sanok, in Austria, XIX. 642.
Sanquhar, Scotch town, XIX. 642 —
Crawick mill near, VIII, 262.
—■ ' ■ ■ (Lord), execution of, VI. 616.
Sansanding, IV. 336.
Sanscrit alphabet, II. 549—literature,
V, 179—language, I. 204 ; XIII. 81;
XVII. 379, 383, 386—its prevalence
in the languages of the Indian Archi¬
pelago, III. 692.
Sansovino, his merits as an architect,
III. 426.
Santa Anna (General), XIV. 792.
Santa Catalina, island, XIX. 642.
Santa Catharina, in Brazil, XIX. 642.
Santa Cruz, islands of that name,
XIX. 643; IV. 213; XXI. 660.
——, in Morocco, XV. 508.
 , in Teneriffe, VI. 74—Blake’s
attack on, IV. 673.
 , Patagonian river, XVII. 118.
Santa Fe, Spanish city, XIX. 64 3.
Santa Fe de Guanaxuato, XI. 13.
Santa Fe, a town in New Mexico, XIV.
820.
Santa Fe, in La Plata, XVIII. 7.
Santa Fe de Bogota, capital of New
Granada, XIX. 643; IV. 731.
Santa Maura, XII. 341.
Santal, specific gravity of, XII. 35.
Santalaceie, in botany, V. 128.
Santaleae, in botany, V. 128.
Santander, Spanish city, XIX. 643.
 (General), IV. 742; VII. 100, et
seq.
  — (M. de la Serna;, on the origin
of printing, IV. 623—on early printed
books, 624.
Santarem. XIX. 643.
Santecil (Jean Baptiste de), XIX. 643.
Santiago, Spanish city, XIX. 643—ca¬
pital of Chili, 644; VI. 538—pro¬
vince of La Plata, XVIII. 8.
Santillana (Marquis of), character of his
poetry, XVIII. 162.
Santiponte, Spanish town, XIX. 644.
Santipore, in Bengal, XIX. 644.
Santo (Andrea del), his style of painting,
XVI. 713.
Santorin, Greek island, XIX. 644.
Santorini, his anatomical discoveries, II.
701 —tubercles of, 805.
Santos, XVII. 161.
Santur, XIX. 644.
Saone, French river, XIX. 644.
  —- (Upper), in France, XIX. 644.
 and Loire, a department of
France, XIX. 645.
Saoud, a Wahaby chief, III. 344.
Sap of plants, XIX. 645—its qualities
in bark and leaves, III. 51—its irregu-
lar movements and lateral motion, 65
—motion of, 157—Coulomb on circu-
lation of, VII. 428—circulation of,
XXI. 071; in trees, III. 50; XXI.
290—its qualities, and changes in the
leaves from the agency of the air, 574;
and of light, 577.
SAP—SAR
Sap-vessels of plants, III. 44, 46, 50;
XXI. 570.
Sap, in sieges, XIX. 645.
Sapagenum, specific gravity of, XII. 35.
Sapajou, in zoology, XIV. 93,95—brain
of, larger in proportion to the body
than that of man, but destitute of
convolutions, III. 163.
Sapaboua, island, XIX. 645
Sapata, island, XIX. 645.
Saperda, insect, IX. 180.
Saphet, XIX. 609.
Sapindaceae, in botany, V. 102.
Sapor, or Sapores, king of Persia, XVII.
261—his embassy to Constantinople,
VII. 265—his war with the emperor
Constantius, 276.
Sapotese, in botany, V. 119.
Sappan, river, XIX. 645.
Sappers and Miners, of the royal artil¬
lery, XIX. 645 ; IX. 777.
Sapphira, XIX. 645.
Sapphire, XV. 155; X. 378—crystalli¬
zation of, VII. 523—specific gravity
of, XII. 35—lenses of, XV. 30.
Sappho, XIX. 645—character of the
poetry of, XVIII. 151.
Sapromyza, insect, IX. 285.
Sapy Straits, XIX. 645.
Sapyga, insect, IX. 229.
Sapygites, insects, IX. 229.
Saraband, dance, XIX. 645.
Sarabat, river, XIX. 645.
Saracens, Arabians, or Moors, XIX.
645—destruction of their power in
Spain, II. 22—their wars with the
Roman emperors, VII. 282, et seq.—
their conquests, XI. 480—their con¬
quest of Spain, and history of their
kingdoms there, XX. 493-8—expul¬
sion from Spain, 498, 503—its condi¬
tion under them, 499—their revolt
there in the 16th century, 502. See
Arabians, Moors.
Saracenic architecture, III. 421 — in
Spain, 423.
Saragossa, or Zaragoza, in Spain, XXI.
974; III. 373.
Sarangpoor, XIX.645.
Sarangur, Hindu town, XIX. 645.
Sarapilly, Hindu town, XIX. 646.
Sarapis, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Saratoga, Bourgoyne’s disaster at, V.
404—springs of, XVI. 183.
Saratov, XIX. 646.
Sarawan, XIX. 646.
Sarbatchoii Saha, XIX. 646
Sarbo, island, XIX. 646
Sarcasm, in rhetoric, XIX. 646
Sarchad, Syrian town, XIX. 646
Sarcobase, in botany, V. 49.
Sarcoearp, in botany, V. 47.
Sarcocolla, sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Sarcophaga, insects, IX. 283
Sarcophagus, XIX. 646.
Sarcoramphus, bird, XVI. 558.
Sardanapalus, XIX. 646 ; III. 717.
Sardinia, XIX. 646—reduced by the
Romans, VI. 191—French trade with,
X. 189—language of, XIII. 88—coins,
XV. 408, 411—weights and measures
XXI. 855 — map of, XII. PI. 319.
See Valdenses.
 (Kingdom of), XIX. 646 ; XII.
477—army of, III. 612.
Sardis, or Sart, XIX. 651—battle of,
XIII. 609.
Sardonius Risus, XIX. 651.
Sardonyx, XIX, 651; V. 786—specific
gravity of, XII. 35.
Sarfend, in Palestine, XIX. 651
Sargus, insect, IX. 271.
 , fish, XII. 176.
Sarhaut, Hindu town, XIX. 651.
Sari, Persian town, XIX. 651.
Sari,at, in France, XIX. 651.
Sarmatiana, XVII. 420—Constantine’s
war with the, VII. 271.
Sarmatta Isle, XIX. 651.
Sarno, Italian city, XIX. 651
Saropoda, insects, IX. 134.
Sabos, in chronology, XIX. 651.
Saros-Patak, XIX. 651.
SAR—SAU
Sarowy, Hindu town, XIX. 651.
Sarraceniacese, in botany, V. 96.
Sarrasin, French city, XIX. 651.
Sarrebourg, in France, XIX. 651.
Sarreguemines, XIX. 651.
Sart, in Asia Minor, XIX. 651.
Sartene, in Corsica, XIX. 651.
Sarthe, in France, XIX. 651.
Sartine (M. de), X. 38; XVIII. 253.
-■ Islands, XIX. 652.
Sarum (Old), in Wilts, XIX. 652.
 (New). See Salisbury.
Sarun, in Bahar, XIX. 652.
Sarzeau, French city, XIX. 652.
Saseram, Hindu town, XIX. 652.
Sashes, in military dress, XIX. 652.
 ,injoinery, V.689—glazing of, 694.
Sasnee, Hindu town, XIX. 652.
Sasram, island, XIX. 652.
Sassafras, specific gravity of, XII. 35.
Sassanian dynasty in Persia, XVII. 261.
Sassari, Sardinian city, XIX. 652.
Satalia, in Asia Minor, XIX. 652.
Satan, prominence given to him by the
Homan Catholics, III. 298. See Devil.
Satanagur, Hindu town, XIX. 652
Satarah, Hindu town, XIX. 652.
Sataspes, voyage of, X. 389.
Satellite, island, XIX. 653.
Satellites of Jupiter, I. 491, 670 ; IV.
32, 35, 37, 60—of Saturn, 34, 36, 37
— of Uranus, 34, 37—orbits of the
satellites, 35.
Satgong, in Bengal, XIX. 653.
Satimangalum, XIX. 653
Satin-bird, XVI. 568.
Satire, Roman, XVIII. 154.
Satirists, the most eminent compared,
VIII. 225-6.
Satteram, Hindu town, XIX. 653.
Sattiaveram, XIX. 653.
Saturday, XIX. 653—origin of the
word, XVIII. 337.
Saturn, planet, XIX. 653 ; IV. 33;
XI. 765—inequalities of, III. 752-
ring of, IV. 3'3—satellites of, 34, 36,
37—variations in its orbit, 59.
 , in chemistry, XIX. 653.
 , in heraldry, XIX. 653.
 , Pagan deity, XIX. 653.
Saturnalia, festival, XIX. 653
Saturnia, insect, IX. 246.
Saturnine, XIX. 653.
Satyavrata, or Menu, XIX. 653
Satyrs, demi-gods, XIX. 633.
Satyrus, insect, IX. 242
Saul, XIX. 653 ; XII. 567
Saul-wood of India, XXI. 300, 301.
Sault de St Marie, XV. 8.
Saumaise. See Salmasius.
Saumur, in France, XIX. 653.
Saunders’ Island, XIX. 653.
  — (red), VI. 483.
   (Dr W.), on cinchona, VI. 698.
Saunderson (Dr Robert), XIX. 653.
—* (Dr Nicholas), mathematician,
XIX. 654 ; I. 597 ; IV. 701.
Sauria, reptiles, XIX. 132—their struc¬
ture, XVII. 713—bones. III. 13, et
seq.—vocal organs, 29.
5Auiiin (James), preacher, XIX. 654.
  (Joseph), geometrician, XIX.
656—on the calculus, IX. 637—on
mathematics, XIV. 321.
Saurure®, in botany, V. 130.
Saurus, fish, XII. 213.
Saussure (H. B. de;, XIX. 657 — on
the cuticle of plants, III. 67—his ac¬
count of two albinos, II. 382—his
ascent of Mont Blanc, 562 ; and ob¬
servations on its height, IV. 401—
on the carbonic acid of the atmo¬
sphere, 136—his analysis of sugar, V.
247—on the temperature of the air
at different altitudes, VI. 752—his
cyanometer, VII. 572 ; XIV. 740 ;
XVII. 530—on electricity, VIII. 573,
604, 609, 615, 617—his electrometer,
656—on evaporation, IX. 425—his
hygrometer, XII. 112, 120—on vege¬
table physiology, XXI. 568, et seq.
Sanssurite, specific gravity of, XII.
35.
SAU—SAX
Sautgur, Indian town, XIX. 658.
Sauve-gardes, reptiles, XIX. 139.
Sauveur (Joseph), French mathemati.
cian, XIX. 658 —on harmony, XI. 151.
Sava, Persian town XIX. 658.
Savage, XIX. 658—Lord Kames and
Rousseau on the savage state, VIII.
91—susceptibility of savages of plea¬
sure and pain, XVIII. 55. See Ame¬
rican Indians, &c.
  Island, XIX. 658.
 (Richard), XIX. 658; XVIII.
403, n.—his intimacy with Dr John¬
son, XII. 596—poetry of, XVIII. 172.
Savannah, XIX. 660; X. 469, 470
Savannah-le-Mar, XII. 501.
Savaria (Marquis of), V. 386.
Savaroni, XI. 269.
Savary (James), a French writer on
trade, XIX. 660.
  (M.), French traveller, XIX.
660—on the formation of the Delta
of Egypt, VIII. 507.
   (Monsieur), on electro-magnet¬
ism, VIII. 574 ; XXI. 684.
  (Servington), his double-image
micrometer, XV. 14.
 (Capt. Thomas), his condensing
steam-engine, X. 554; XX. 616—its
employment to turn machinery, 620
—his revolving steam-engine, 621.
Save, German river, XIX. 660.
Savenay, in France, XIX. 660.
Savendroog, a Hindu fortress, XIX.
660 ; V. 462 ; XI. 429.
Saverne, in France, XIX. 660.
Savi (Professor), on the cohabitation of
the ant and grasshopper, III. 242—
on birds, XVI. 551, 580, 597, 611.
Savigliano, Italian city, XIX. 660.
Savignano, Italian town, XIX. 660.
Savigny on the capitularies, VI. 123—
on the Roman law, 719—on law, XIII.
178, 183, 197.
Savile (Sir George), Marquis of Hali¬
fax, XIX. 661 ; V. 360, et seq.
Saville (Sir Henry), XIX. 661.
 — (Capt.), his visit to Solomon’s
Islands, IV. 213; and to New Zea¬
land, 215.
Savings-Banks, XIX. 662—in Ireland,
XII. 411—Paris, XVII. 79—Kent
and Sussex, XVIII. 385—Scotland,
XIX. 766—Switzerland, XXI. 51.
Saviour, XIX. 662.
Savona, Italian city, XIX. 662.
Savonarola (Jerome), XIX. 662.
Savoy, XIX. 648—agriculture in, 649
 , cabbage, XI. 667.
Savu, island, XIX. 662.
Saw, XIX. 662—manufacture of sur¬
gical saws, VII. 567.
Saw-fish, XII. 234.
Saw-flies, IX. 217.
Saw mills, XIX. 663 ; VIII. 83.
Saw-w'ort, yellow dye-stuff, VIII. 321.
Sawardin, XIX. 664.
Sawbridgeworth, XIX. 664
Sawyer’s work, V. 691.
Saxe (Maurice, Count of), general,
XIX. 664; V. 380.
Saxe-Altenburg, XIX. 665.
Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, XIX. 665.
Saxe -Meiningen- Hildburghacsen,
German duchy, XIX. 666.
Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach, XIX. 666.
Saxicava, in conchology, XV. 342.
Saxicola, bird, XVI. 575.
Saxifragaceae, in botany, V. 113.
Saxifrage®, in botany, V. 113.
Saxmundham, in Suffolk, XIX. 666.
Saxo-Grammaticus, XIX. 666.
Saxon architecture in England, ill. 454
—Bibles, IV. 617—Heptarchy, VIII.
701—language, IX. 38 ; XIII. 85, 86
—law, XH. 651.
Saxons, their conquest of England, '•
295, 302—idolatry, XVIII. 337-settle¬
ment in Scotland, XIX. 697—-boats,
XX. 213.
Saxon-green, dyeing of, VIII. 333, 334.
Saxon-blue, dyeing of, VIII. 327.
Saxony, XIX. 667—army of, HI. 609
INDEX,
137
SAX—SCA
porcelain, XVIII. 433-4—ravaged by
Tilly, XXI. 18—war with Charles
XII. of Sweden, 22—weights and mea¬
sures, 855—wool, 921.
Saxton (Mr), his magneto-electric ma¬
chine, XXI. 692.
Say (M,), on money, XV. 386.
Say’s stereometer, XII. 24.
Sayanskie Mountains, in Siberia, XIX.
671; XX. 326.
Sayers (Dr), on pleasure, XVIII. 53.
Saymbrcmbacum, XIX. 671.
Saypan, island, XIX. 671.
Scab, in sheep, XII. 293, 636.
Scad, fish, XII. 186.
Scaevolese, in botany, V. 117.
Scaffold, bricklayer’s, V. 667.
Scalaria, mollusca, XV. 347.
Scalding, death from, XIV. 499.
Scalds, poets, XIX. 671.
Scale, XIX. 671—in music, ib.; XV.
610—scales of force, velocity, accele¬
ration, time, &c., VIII. 375.
Scalene Triangle, XIX. 671.
Scaliger (Julius Caesar), XIX. (171.
 (Joseph Justus), XIX. 672 ; V.
160, n. 1—derives the Greek letters
from the Phoenician, II. 546—collec¬
tions of anecdotes of, 674—his vanity
and dogmatism, 675—Julian Period
proposed by, VI. 9—on the quadra,
ture of the circle, XX. 553.
Scallops, XV. 373..
Scalp, muscles of the, II. 794.
Scalping, XIX. 672.
Sealops, in zoology, XIV. 103.
Scaly-lizard, XIV. 144.
Scammony, VI. 491—sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Scamozzi, architect, III. 426.
Scampirro, fish, XII. 182.
Scandarieii, XIX. 672.
Scanderbeg, XIX. 672 ; XXI. 412.
Scanderia, II. 409.
Scanderoon, XIX. 672; 11.408.
Scandinavia, XIX. 672; XVI. 257—
mythology of, XV. 683 — romances
of, XIX. 329. See Runic.
Scandinavians, XIX. 672 ; XI. 396 —
origin of jury trial among the, XII.
650—idolatry of the, XVIII. 337-
suicide probably common among the,
XX. 798.
Scanning, XIX. 674.
Scansores, birds, XVI. 594.
Scantling, XIX. 674.
Scape-Goat, XIX. 674.
Scapehent, XIX. 674—of clocks, VI.
768, et seq.—of watches, 789.
Scapes, in botany, V. 40.
Scaphidites, insects, IX. 148.
Scaphidium, insect, IX. 148.
Scaphites, mollusca, XV. 345.
Scaphoid bone, II. 791.
Scaphura, insect, IX. 192.
Scapolite, XV. 153—sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Scapula, II. 78*5} XVII. 617 —in the
mammalia, III. 8—in birds, 13—in
reptiles, 15.
— (John), XIX. 674.
~ (Ostorius), V. 298.
Scapular, XIX. 674.
Scarabaudes, insects, IX. 152.
Scarabaeus, insect, IX. 156.
Scarba, whirlpool of Coryvreekan near,
VII. 382.
Scarborough, XIX. 674.
Scardona, XIX. 675.
Scarf-skin, II. 750.
Scarfing, in carpentry, V. 683; VI. 166.
Scarification, XIX. 675.
Searites, insects, IX. 119.
Scaritides, insects, IX. 119.
Scarlet, mode of dyeing wool, VIII. 312;
silk, 316; cotton, 319.
‘‘JciBP, XIX. 675.
Scarpa (Antonio), XIX. 675—on the
structure of bone, II. 742—his surgi¬
cal improvements, XX. 830.
^arus, fish, XII. 196.
Scarron (Paul), XIX. 675; XIV. 45—
ms gaiety under suffering, XVIII. 56.
ocatophaga, insects, IX. 285.
Scatopse, insect, IX. 263.
SCA—SCH
Scaurus, insect, IX. 163.
Scearston, battle of, VIII. 707.
Sceaux, in France, XIX. 676.
Scene, XIX. 676.
Scenery introduced upon the stage by
iEschylus, VIII. 144.
Scenography, XIX. 676.
Scenopinii, insects, IX. 278.
Scenopinus, insect, IX. 278.
Sceptic, XIX. 676—description of, by
Bishop Earle, I. 51.
Sceptical sect of ancient philosophers,
XVII. 431.
Scepticism, Glanvil on, X. 533—histo¬
rical, III. 265.
Sceptre, XIX. 677.
Schaffhausen, XIX. 677.
Schamachi, XIX. 678.
Schanck Cape, XIX. 678.
Schantarskija, XIX. 678.
Schabebsje, island, XIX. 678.
Schasburg, Austrian city, XIX. 678.
Schauenburg, XIX. 678.
Schauenburg-Lippe, XIX. 678.
Schazk, Russian city, XIX. 678.
Scheche Sure, island, XIX. 678.
Scheduan, XIX. 678.
Schedule, XIX. 678.
Scheele (C. AV.), XIX. 678—his expe¬
riments on heat, I. 646—on the com¬
position of the atmosphere, IV. 134—
his chemical discoveries, VI. 350;
IV. 679.
Schefer (L.), German poet, XA’III. 168.
SchehaUion, Scotch mountain, XVII.
289—attraction of, XV. 583.
Scheiner (Christopher), XIX. 680—on
the sun’s spots, III. 778—on optics,
XVI. 359.
Scheldt, river, XIX. 680—navigation
of the, X. 77.
Schelestadt, XIX. 680.
Schelley, fish, XII. 211.
Schelling’s system of philosophy, I.
200-1.
Scheme, XIX. 680.
Schemnitz, in Hungary, XIX. 680.
Scherzo, XIX. 680.
Scheubelius, his improvements in alge¬
bra, II. 423.
Scheygias, IX. 377.
Schiechs, XIX. 680 ; III. 332-3.
Schiedam, Dutch city, XIX. 680.
Schilbus, fish, XII. 202.
Schiller (J. C. F. Von), XIX. 680—his
plays, VIII. 177—poetry, XVIII. 167
—novels, XIX. 358.
Schiller-spar, XV. 149.
Schio, in Austria, XIX. 685.
Schirach on bees, IV. 519, 531.
Schiras, or Shiraz, XX. 297.
Schirrus of the stomach, in the horse,
XXI. 626.
Schirvan, XX. 298.
Schism, XIX. 685.
Schisma, in music, XIX. 685.
Schistus, XIX. 685 — specific gravity
of, XII. 35—metals found in, XV.
277. See Slate*
Schittuar, island, XIX. 685.
Schlegel (Frederick), XIX. 685 —
writings of, I. 214—on the tragedies
of Euripides, VIII. 148—on French
comedy, 166—on the German drama,
177.
 (William), on the poetry of Me-
tastasio, XIV. 704.
Schlegel (Mons.), on serpents, XX. 122,
et seq.
Schligmann on birds, XVI. 549.
SCHMALRALDEN, XIX. 688.
Schmelzstein, a mineral, XV. 153.
Schmidt on the earth’s figure, IX. 562.
Schmidt’s pyrometer, XVIII. 750—his
formula representing the law of the
relation between the temperature and
force of steam, XX. 595—on latent
heat, 601.
Schmiedenberg, XIX. 688.
Schneiderian membrane, II. 797.
Schceffer on birds, XVI. 519.
 , early printer, XVIII. 544.
Schoen (Martin), IX. 45.
SCH—SCI
Schoenbrunn, palace of, XXI. 646.
Schcenobates, XIX. 688.
Scholars at Oxford, XXI. 496.
Scholastic, XIX. 688.
 Divinity, XIX. 688.
 Ethical philosophy, I. 307, et seq.
Scholastics, their perversion of Aris¬
totle’s philosophy, III. 509.
Scholiast, XIX. 688.
Scholium, XIX. 688 ; X. 433; XIII.
445.
Scholtz on Coptic, XI. 314.
Schomberg (F. A. Duke of), XIX. 688
—his Irish campaigns, V. 363.
 (Uldaric), a blind man, IV. 700.
Schoner (Andrew), his work on dial¬
ling, VII. 760.
 (John), on dialling, VII. 760.
Schools, XIX. 689 ; XXI. 529—as
affecting health, XIV. 512.
Schoolmasters, diseases of, XIV. 509.
Schoolmen. See Scholastics.
Scho’oner, XIX. 689.
Schooten (F.), mathematician, on ami¬
cable numbers, II. 656.
Schorl, XI. 170—sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Schott (Casper), on aeronautics, II. 178
—on the coldness of the moon’s rays,
VII. 749.
Schouten, his visit to Papua, IV. 211;
and New Britain, 212.
Schouten’s Island, XIX. 689.
Schouw (Professor), on botanical re¬
gions, XVII. 548.
Schrader’s Flora Gerrnanica, V. 80.
Schreber’s botanical labours, V. 80.
Schreger on the lymphatics, II. 730.
Schrevelius (Cornelius), Dutch critic
and lexicographer, XIX. 689.
Schroeter on the moon’s atmosphere,
IV. 6—on the planet Venus, 27.
Schryari, XIX. 689.
Schubler (Professor), on atmospheric
electricity, VIII. 616.
Schuiskoy, XIX. 538.
Schullemberg (General), his campaign
against the Swedes, XXI. 22.
Schulten (N. G.), on the effect of atmo¬
spheric pressure on the level of the
sea, XXI. 285.
Schultens (Albert), XIX. 689.
Schurman (Anna Maria), XIX. 689.
Schuylkill river, XVII. 221.
Schwabach, XIX. 690.
Schwartsburg-Sonderhausen, a Ger¬
man principality, XIX. 690.
Schwartz (Barthold), XI. 76.
Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt, XIX. 690.
Schwatz, XIX. 690.
Schweidnitz, XIX. 690; XVIII. 675.
Schweigger’s electrical multiplier, VIII.
638, 654.
Schweinfurt, XIX. 690.
Schweiniz, botanist, V. 80.
Schwenkfeld on ornithology, XVI. 545.
Schwerd (F. M.), on optics, XVI. 440.
Schwerin, German city, XIX. 690.
Scuwetz, Prussian town, XIX. 690.
Schweynheym, printer, XVIII. 548.
Schwyz, Swiss canton, XIX. 690.
Sciacca, in Sicily, XV. 702.
Sciajna, fish, XII. 175.
Seiaenidae, fishes, XII. 175.
Sciagraphy, XIX. 691.
Sciara, insect, IX. 263.
Scicli, in Sicily, XIX. 691.
Science, XIX. 691—classification of the
sciences by Bacon, D’Alembert, and
Locke, I. 1-8.
Scigliano, Italian city, XIX. 691.
Scilly Islands, XIX. 691; XI. 372—
Sir Cloudesley Shovel wrecked on the,
V. 370; XX. 319.
Scincidae, reptiles, XIX. 149.
Scincus, reptile, XIX. 149.
Scindapsos, XIX. 691.
Scindia, XI. 434, et seq.; XVI. 343.
Scio, XIX. 691—massacre of, X. 747.
Sciomyza, insect, IX. 288.
Scioppius (Caspar), XIX. 692.
Scioptic Ball, XIX. 693.
Scioto, river, XVI. 326.
Scipio (Publius Cornelius) Africanus,
SCI—SCO
XIX. 693, 387—his war with the Car¬
thaginians, VI. 201.
— (Lucius Cornelius), XIX. 693.
  (Publius jEmilianus), XIX.
693—his operations against the Car¬
thaginians, VI. 204—Numantia taken
by, XX. 491.
Sciro, island, XIX 693.
Scirocho. See Sirocco.
Scitaminem, in botany, V. 132.
Sciurus, in zoology, XIV. 130.
Sclavonia, XIX. 693 ; IV. 225.
Sclavonian Bibles, IV. 617; XIX. 790.
  Language, XIII. 89 ; XVII. 419
—languages derived from the, 422.
Sclavonians, IV. 236 ; VI. 274—Scla¬
vonic nations in Europe, IX. 410.
Sclerantheas, in botany, V. 112.
Sclerodermi, fishes, XII. 229,
Sclerotic membrane, II. 798 ; III. 22.
Scolds, punishment of, VI. 229.
Scolex, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Scolezite, pyro-electricity of, VIII. 597.
Scolia, insect, IX. 229.
Scolietes, insects, IX. 229.
Scolopax, bird, XVI. 622.
Scolopendra, insects, XV. 653, 654.
Scolopsides, fishes, XII. 176.
Scolytus, insect, IX. 176.
Scomber, fish, XII. 180.
Scomber-esox, fish, XII. 200.
Scomber-thynnus, fish, XV. 703.
Scomberidae, fishes, XII. 180.
Scone, Scottish village, XIX. 693.
Scopeles, fish, XII. 213.
Scopoli on botany, V. 82—on birds,
XVI. 549.
Scops, bird, XVI. 566.
Scopus, bird, XVI. 620.
Score, in music, XIX. 694.
Scoresby (Rev. Mr), on the magnetic
effects of electricity, VIII. 637—on
the freezing of food, IX. 730—his ar¬
tificial magnets, XIII. 758—his mag¬
netometer, 767—his observations on
sea-ice, XVII. 519.
 , jun., on the walrus, XIV. 125.
Scoria, XIX. 694.
Scorification, XIX. 694.
Scorpoena, fish, XII. 174.
Scorpio, genus of arachnides, III. 365.
Scorpion, fish, XII. 174.
Scorpions, III. 364—Durango, in Mexi¬
co, infested by, VIII. 288.
Scorzonera, XL 670—stem of, III. 82.
Scot (Alex.), IX. 357, n. 2.
 (Dr), of Corstorphine, on domes¬
tic poultry, XVI. 609.
  (John), an early professor at
Oxford, XIII. 292.
 (Michael), XIX. 694.
  (Reginald), XIX. 694 ; XXI.
907—on the heathenism of the Church
of Rome, III. 297, n. 2.
Scotal, XIX. 694.
Scotales, XIX. 694.
Scoter, bird, XVI. 636.
Scoti, VI. 2.
Scotia, in architecture, XIX. 694 ; III.
470.
 , Ireland originally so named,
VII. 714.
Scotinus, insect, IX. 164.
Scotists, scholastic sect, XIX. 694. See
Duns Scotus.
Scotland, XIX. 695—history of, ib.—
statistics, 744—reasons why do great
writer appeared there in the age of
Locke, I. 105—metaphysical and mo¬
ral philosophers of, I. 220, et seq., 284,
411. (See Hume, Reid,Stewart, &c.)—
agriculture, II. 254, 258, 261, 349 ;
VIII. 767—roads, II. 262 ; XIX. 299
—Agricultural Societies, II. 262, 264—
little meadow-land in, 308—Antoni¬
nus’s wall, III. 272 ; V. 300 ; XIX. 408
—archbishops formerly in, III. 397 —
archery, 399, 400, 402—bagpipe, IV.
281—Covenanters, 286 ; V. 316, 349,
etseq.^ VII. 434—bread, IV. 295—bar¬
rack-districts, 405 — rearing of bees
in, recommended, 535—introduction of
bleaching, 679—consumption of malt,
138
INDEX
SCO
V. 252—ancient population of, 296—
union of the crowns of England and,
302—attempt of James VI. to estab¬
lish episcopacy, 301—similar attempt
by Charles the First, 315—civil war
with him, 316—his visit in 1641, 319
—Solemn League and Covenant, 325;
VII. 434—invaded by Cromwell, V.
335—tyrannized over by Charles the
Second, 349, 353—submission to Wil¬
liam the Third, 361—battle of Killi-
krankie, 362; XII. 718—massacre of
Glencoe, V. 364—colony on the Isth¬
mus of Darien, 365 4 VII. 625—union
with England, V. 370—articles of the
union, XXI. 448—attempt to dissolve
union, V. 373—rebellions in 1715 and
1745, 374, 381—subsequent measures
for tranquillizing the Highlands, 383
—application of the Catholics for re¬
lief, 411—act for the restoration of
forfeited estates, 435—complaint of
grievances by the royal burghs in
1791, 462—act for relief of the Ca¬
tholics, 470—prosecution of Muir and
Palmer in 1793, 470—acts of parlia¬
ment in 1810 respecting ministers’
stipepds and the Court of Session,
529—resistance to the abolition of
small notes, 565—Buchanan’s His¬
tory of, 632—castles, VI. 234—dial-,
mers’s Caledonia, 309 — assassina¬
tion common in the 16th century, 616
—Lord High Constable, VII. 266—
corn-laws, 337—coronach, 372—cot¬
ton-manufacture, 404, et seq.; X. 557
—Lord Hailes’s Annals of, VII. 602,
604—Defoe’s mission to, 670—emigra¬
tion from the Highlands, VIII. 688,
690—shipping,! 86—distillation, 44,50
—smuggling of whisky, 46—law of di¬
vorce, 72—early drama, 154—educa¬
tion, 789 ; I. 249 ; XXI. 508, 529-
language, IX. 42—episcopacy, 316—
fisheries, 599, 601 ; III. 112—iron¬
works, X. 560; XV. 246; XX. 408—
glass-making, X. 565—presbyterian-
ism, XI. 559—horses, 597—-rate of
interest, XII. 324 — free-masonry,
XIV. 283—lunatic asylums, 588—
militia, XV. 70—coal, 244—money,
399, 406; III. 544—canals, XVI. 7
—newspapers, 168—school of paint¬
ing, 727—banks, XVII. 42—patron¬
age, 145—pearls, 166—Gaelic lan¬
guage, 414, 416—heights of moun¬
tains, 506, 557—lakes, 523—cataracts,
525 —constabulary, XVIII. 252 —
post-office, 488—church, 526 — pri¬
sons, 583—the Reformation, XIX. 96
—Robertson’s History of, 301—light¬
houses, XX. 29 — seceders, 61 —
slavery, 383—Statistical Account of,
568 :— Gilbert Stuart’s History of,
XX. 783—spirit-duties, XXI. 122—
General Roy’s map of, 351—Ordnance
Survey, 359, 360—measures, III. 544 ;
XXI. 847, 851—weights, 851, 390 ;
III. 544—woollen-manufacture, XXI.
923—map of, XIX. PI. 439 and 440.
See Britain, Highlands, and the names
of counties and towns; also the Chro¬
nological Table, VI. 669, et seq.
Scots, their wars with the Romans, V.
301—their invasions of Ireland, XII.
357, 359—Scotch settlers in Ulster,
366. See Scotland.
Scotobius, insect, IX. 163.
Scott (John), clergyman, XIX. 771.
 (Thomas), clergyman, XIX. 771.
 r— (Sik Walteb), XIX. 771—on
apparitions, III. 304—his connexion
with Mr Constable, VII. 267—on the
drama, VIII. 147, n.—his attention
to minute peculiarities of nature,
XVIII. 143—poetry of, 173—on the
works of Fielding, IX. 538, 540; Mrs
Radcliffe, XIX. 9 ; Miss Reeve, 85 ;
Richardson, 337; C. Johnstone, 341;
Maturin, 345 ; Le Sage, 353-4—novels
of, 347.
Scotus. See Duns Scotus.
ScouoAt (Henry), XIX. 778.
SCO—SEA
Scouring of wool, VIII. 299—silk, 300.
Scouts, XIX. 778.
Scrain’s hive, III. 283.
Scraper, engraver’s, IX. 47.
Screamer, bird, XVI. 627.
Screw, XIX. 778 ; XIV. 369.
Scribe, XIX. 778.
Scribing, in joinery, V. 688.
Scrimzeor (Henry), XIX. 778.
Script-type, XXL 437.
Scripture (Holy), XIX. 780. See
Bible.
Scrivener, XIX. 791.
Scroll, in architecture. III. 470—in he¬
raldry, XI. 258.
Scrope (Wm.),on deer-stalking, XX. <V)3.
Scrophularineae, in botany, V. 123.
Scrotum, its anatomy, II. 824.
Scruple, XIX. 791—scruples of half
duration, &c., ib.
Scrutiny, XIX. 792.
Scrutore, XIX. 792.
Scry, in falconry, XIX. 792.
Scudding, XIX. 792.
Scudo, XV. 410.
Scuirvullin, XIX. 485.
Sculpone*, XIX. 792.
Sculptor, a blind one, IV. 702.
Sculpture, XX. 1—Greek, III. 258—
Egyptian, 262—Chinese, VI. 573—
casting of statues, V. 588 ; VI. 230 ;
IX. 791; XV. 311; XVII. 796—the
Elgin Marbles, VIII. 668—knowledge
of anatomy necessary to sculptors,
XVII. 610.
Scultetus, on surgery, XX. 829.
Scuppers of a ship, XX. 13.
Scurf in sheep, XXI. 636.
Scurvy, XX. 13—Captain Cook’s reme¬
dy for, VII. 299—chemical theory of,
VIII-. 24—cured by the use of citric
acid, XVI. 53.
Scutage, XX. 13.
Scutari, Turkish city, XX. 13.
Scute, French coin, XX. 13.
Scutellera, insect, IX. 195.
Scutibranchia, mollusca, XV. 364.
Scutigera, insects, XV. 654.
Scuttles in a ship, XX. 13.
Scydmsenus, insect, IX. 147.
Scylax, mathematician, XX. 13.
Scylla, rock, XX. 13; XV. 699.
Scyllarus, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Scyllea, mollhsca, XV. 360.
Scyllium, fish, XII. 231.
Scymnus, fish, XII. 234.
Scypha, in botany, V. 57.
ScyHs, fish, XIl/l86.
Scyros, island, XX. 14.
Scyrtes, insect, IX. 141.
SCYTALA LaCONICA, XX. 14.
ScfTHE, XX. 14—Hainault,II. 270, 350.
Scythia, XX. 14.
Scythians, X. 618; XI. 396; XX. 2—
identical with the Tartars, XXI. 82—
their invasions of the Eastern Em¬
pire, VII. 286—suicide common a-
mong the, XX. 798.
Scythian bow, V. 155.
 — Race of man, II. 710; XVII. 698.
Scythrops, bird, XVI. 598.
Scytodes, arachnides. III. 360.
Sea, XX. 14 ; X. 407—influence of the
sun’s rays on, VI. 748—temperature
of, at different depths, 749—freezing
of, VII. 58 ; XVII. 519—currents in,
VII. 552 ; XVIII. 222—embankments
against, VIII. 676—rights of different
nations to use of, XIII. 138—lumi¬
nousness of, 338 ; XXI. 1015—effect
of its vicinity on health, XIV. 511;
and on climate, XVII. 544—water of,
XV. 137—local elevation of its bed,
218—desiccation of ancient bed, 236
—encroachments of, XVII. 511—its
colour, temperature, and saltness,
518—principal inland seas, 520—eva¬
poration from, XX. 549—effect of at¬
mospheric pressure, and of the wind,
on level of, XXI. 285, 286.' See
Ocean, Tides, Polar Seas, Baltic, &e.
Sea-air, XX. 14—contains no muriatic
acid, IX. 432.
SEA—SEC
Sea-anemonies, zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Sea-bear, XIV. 125.
Sea-breeze, III. 679 ; XIV. 745 ; XVII.
540.
Sea-cat, fish, XII. 193.
Sea-devil, fish, XII. 174.
Sea-eggs, zoophytes, XXI. 1003.
Sea-grass, uses of, II. 297.
Sea-hag, fish, XII. 237.
Sea-hare, XV. 362.
Sea-horse, mammalia, XIV. 124.
 , fish, XII. 227.
Sea-ice, XVII. 519.
Sea-jellies, zoophytes, XXI. 1013.
Sea-kale, culture of, XI. 673.
Sea-lights, XX. 15—principles of op¬
tics applied to the improvement of,
I. 636—lenses, V. 737—Eddystone,
XX. 399. See Lighthouses.
Sea-lion, XIV. 124.
Sea-orange, XVI. 518.
Sea-plants, XX. 32.
Sea-serpent, XX. 32, 148.
Sea-sickness, XX. 32.
Sea-telegraph, XVI. 56.
Sea-unicorn, XIV. 181.
Sea-walls, VIII. 678.
Sea-wax, VI. 444.
Sea-weed, XX. 32—its use as a ma¬
nure, II. 302. See Alga;.
Sea-wolf, fish, XII. 193.
Seadowly, Hindu port, XX. 32.
Seapord, in Sussex, XX. 32.
Seal, XX. 32.
Seals, in zoology, XIV. 123—in the Cas¬
pian Sea, VI. 217—skins of, X. 264,
266—on the Irish coasts, XII. 410—
structure of, XVII. 705.
Sealing-wax, XXI. 821.
Seamanship, XX. 32—ballast, IV. 320
— sounding, XX. 486. See Naviga¬
tion, Sailing.
Seamen. See Sailors.
Search-warrant, XX. 60.
Seasons, cause of the, III. 764; PI. 81,
fig. 25—vary in length, 770.
Seasoning of timber, VIII. 229—loss of
weight by, XXI. 306-9.
Seaton, in Devonshire, XX. 60.
 (Sir Christopher), VIII. 263.
Seaton-Carew, in Durham, XX. 60.
Seba on birds, XVI. 546.
Sebaceous glands, II. 749, 75.0.
 secretion, XVII. 608.
Sebacic acid, XX. 60.
Sebaste, XVI. 742.
Sebastes, fish, XII. 174.
Sebastian (St), in Spain, XX. 60 ; XIX.
634—captured by the British under
Wellington, V. 534.
 (St), in San Paulo, XVII. 161.
 III., of Portugal, XVIII. 466.
Sebastiano, Venetian painter, XX. 60.
Sebastopol, II. 370 ; IV. 661; VII. 473.
Sebese, island, XX. 60.
Sebha, IX. 530.
Sebiz (Melchior), on medical jurispru¬
dence, XIV. 491.
Sebonde (Raimond de), Montaigne’s apo¬
logy for, I. 51—principles of his Theo-
logia Naturalis, 52 — Grotius’s and
Turnebus’s opinions of, ib.
Seboo, river, XV. 503.
Seboua, temple of, XVI. 296.
Sebright on breeding animals, II. 331.
Sebsvar, Persian town, XX. 60.
Seburai, XX. 60.
Secale cornutum, a poison, XIV. 507.
Secale, or rye. See Rye.
Secant, XX. 60 ; XXI. 370.
Seceders, XX. 61; XIX. 764.
Sechelles, islands, XX. 68.
Seckendorf (Guy Louis do), XX. 68.
Secker (Thomas), XX. 68—on the mi¬
racles of the early Christians, VI. 627.
Second, XX. 70—of a circle, XXI. 370.
Second Sight, XX. 70; Til. 304.
Secondaries, in astronomy, IIP. 755.
Secondary rocks, XV. 195; XVII. 508.
Secretary, bird, XVI. 565.
Secretary-at-War, British, III. 618.
Secretion, XVII. 582, 647—anatomy of
the organs of, in man, II. 822 ; in
SEC—SEI
brutes, III. 40—secretions of plants,
XXI. 586.
Secretiveness, XVII. 463.
Sect, XX. 71.
Section, XX. 71—in geometry, ib.—in
architecture. III. 470.
Sector, in geometry, XX. 71, 72—of a
circle, X. 438.
 (Zenith), XX. 72—Ramsden’s,
XXL 358.
Sectoral barometer, IV. 391.
Secular, XX. 72.
Secular Games, XX. 72.
Secularization, XX. 72.
Secundine, III. 100.
Secundra, Hindu town, XX. 72.
Secundus (Joannes Nieolaius), Dutch
poet, XX. 72.
Securifera, insects, IX. 217.
SecutOres, gladiators, XX. 73.
Sedan, in France, XX. 73.
Sedan-Chair, XX. 73.
Sedasier, Hindu town, XX. 73.
Sedatives, in medicine, XX. 74.
Sedbergh, in Yorkshire, XX. 73.
Se-Defendendo, in law, XX. 74.
Sedgemore, battle of, V. 356.
Sedgmoor, measurement of a trigonome¬
trical base on, XXI. 356.
Sedhout, XX. 73.
Sedition, XX. 73.
Sedley (Sir Charles), poet, XX. 74.
Sedre Passage, XX. 74.
Seduction, XX. 74.
Sedulius, XII. 352.
See Amol, island, XX. 75.
See Bangog, island, XX. 75.
See Beeroo Isle, XX. 75.
Seeassee Isle, XX. 7 5.
Seebah, in Lahore, XX. 75.
Seebeck (Dr), on electro-magnetism,
VIII. 574 ; XXI. 684—on thermo¬
electricity, V1II.-574 ; XXI. 695—on
the prismatic spectrum, XIII. 332—
on magnetism, 694, 709, 712—on op¬
tics, XVI. 370, 420, 464.
Seebgunge, Hindu town, XX. 76.
Seeds of plants, V. 50—absorption in,
III. 56—anatomy of, 71—analogous
to eggs, 158—propagation of fruits by,
XI. 634—germination of, XXI. 567
—production of, 585—genus of ani¬
malcules said to spring from, III. 187,
191.
Seed-lac. See Lac.
Seedghur, XX. 76.
Seedlings, XX. 76.
Seedy-toe, XXI. 620.
Seeks, or Sikhs. See Sikhs.
Seenghoo, Burmese town, XX. 76.
Seeor, Hindu town, XX. 76.
Seeparran, island, XX. 76.
Seer, in Arabia, XX. 76.
Seerdhund, Hindu town, XX. 76.
Seerpoor, Hindu town, XX. 76.
Sees, French city, XX.~7 6.
Seetacoond, Hindu town, XX. 76.
Segalien, or Saglialien, XIX. 611.
Segestan, XX.-79.
Segestes, X. 476.
Segestria, arachnides, III. 359.
Segment of a circle, XX. 76 ; X. 438.
Segments (Line of), XX. 76.
Segmentina, mollusca, XV. 345, 358.
Segner (Professor), original principle
expounded by, I. 604—on capillary
attraction, 615—on mechanics, XIV.
354.
Sego, IV. 336.
Segorbe, Spanish city, XX. 76.
Segovia, XX. 76, 77.
 * (New), XX. 77.
Segrais, his Table-Talk, II. 676.
Segre, in France, XX. 77.
Segreant, in heraldry, XX. 77.
Segue; in music, XX. 77.
Seguidilla, XX. 77.
Seguin’s theory of tanning, XXI. 75.
Segura, Spanish city, XX. 77.
Segwin, Hindu territory, XX. 77.
Seida, XIX. 614.
Seignior, or Signior, XX. 77.
Seigniorage, XX. 77 ; VII. 34; XV.
INDEX
139
SEI—SEM
388, 390—question as to its effects,
35—its effect on exchange, IX. 441.
Seigniory, XX. 77.
Seimens, XXI. 416.
Seine, in France, XX. 77.
 (Lower), in France, XX. 77.
 and Marne, in France, XX. 78.
 and Oise, in France, XX. 78.
 , Canal of the, XVI. 6.
Seisachthia, IV. 145.
Seisin, XX. 78—livery of, ib.
Seistan, in Asia, XX. 79.
Seize, in sea-language, XX. 80.
Seizure, in commerce, XX. 80.
Sejant, in heraldry, XX. 80.
Sejanus (jElius), XX. SO ; XIX. 401.
Sejour (Dionis du), on the moon’s at¬
mosphere, IV. 6.
Sejur, Syrian river, XX. 80.
Selache, fish, XII. 233.
Selachii, fishes, XII. 231.
Selagineie, in botany, V. 124.
Selago, highly esteemed by the Druids,
VIII. 208.
Selasie Islands, near the coast of Ara¬
bia, XX. 80.
Selang, island, XX. 80.
Selbistan, Persian town, XX. 80.
Selby, in Yorkshire, XX. 80.
 (Mr), on birds, XVI. 553, 568,
597, 613, 622.
Selden (John), XX. 80—his Table-
Talk, II. 677—his work on the Arun-
delian Marbles, III. 659—on King
James’s Bible, IV. 619—promoted
the publication of Walton’s Polyglott
Bible, XXI. 731.
Seleekeh, in Asia Minor, XX. 81.
Selenga, Siberian river, XX. 81.
Selenginsk, Russian town, XX. 81.
Selenic acid, VI. 378.
Seleniet of aluminum, VI. 398—anti¬
mony, 386—arsenic, 384—bismuth,
417—cobalt, 410—copper, 415—glu-
cinum, 399—iron, 405—lead, 412—
mercury, 418—palladium, 428—phos¬
phorus, 382—platinum, 422—potas¬
sium, 394—silver, 419—tin, 414—
yttrium, 400—zinc, 410.
Selenio-cyanogen, VI. 435.
Selenious acid, VI. 378.
Selenite, XV. 140—sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Selenium, VI. 377.
Selenography, XX. 81.
Seleucia, in Asia, XX. 81.
Seleucidje, era of the, XX. 81 ; VI. 659
—Persian dynasty of the, XVII. 260.
Seleucus Kybiosactes, VIII. 474.
   Nicator, Antioch founded by,
III. 252.
Self-Defence, XX. 81.
Self-Esteem, XVII. 463.
Self-Knowledge, its importance taught
by Socrates, XX. 462.
Self-Love, XX. 82 ; I. 344—analysis
of, 366—significations assigned to, by
Hartley, 429—Aristotle on, III. 523.
Selgovae, VI. 1.
Seligenstadt, XX. 83.
Seligues (M.), his microscope, XV. 39.
Selim I. and II., emperors of Turkey,
III. 343; VIII. 484; XXI. 412.
  HI., reign of, XXI. 414—de¬
posed, 415—strangled, 416.
Selingan, island, XX. 83.
Selinis, in Sicily, taken by the Carthagi¬
nians, VI. 184.
Selino, in Candia, XX. 83.
Selinty, in Caramania, XX. 83.
Seljook, III. 687.
Selkirk (Alexander), XX. 83 ; VII. 671.
(Ford), his plan of emigration,
VIII. 690.
* > Scotch burgh, XX. 84.
Selkirkshire, XX. 84.
Sella, Spanish town, XX. 86.
Sellasia, battle of, XXI. 196.
Selmast, Persian town, XX. 86.
Setters, or Seltzers, XX. 86 ; XV. 737
—mineral spring at, XXI. 93.
Selynus, ruins of, XV. 702.
Semao, island, XX. 86.
Setang, river, IV. 240.
SEM—SEN
Semaphore, XXI. 137.
Semba, African town, XII. 759.
Semblis, insect, IX. 213.
Semeiology, in medicine, XIV. 520.
Semen, XVII. 689 — animalcules in,
XXI. 992—seminal vesicles, II. 824.
Semendra, Turkish city, XX. 86.
Sementinze Feri.e, XX. 86.
Semi, XX. 86.
Semi-Arians, sect, XX. 86.
Semicircle, XX. 86.
Semicolon, XX. 86.
Semidiameter, XX. 86.
Semigallia, XVIII. 212.
Seminal vesicles, II. 824.
Semipalatnoi, XX. 86.
Semipelagians, XX. 87; XVIII. 515.
Semiramis, queen of Assyria, XX. 89 ;
III. 717; VIII. 395; XV. 680.
Semitone. See Music.
Semlin, Austrian city, XX. 90.
Semnopithecus, in zoology, XIV. 92.
Sempech, battle of, XXI. 43.
Sempervivae, in botany, V. 112.
Sempronius, Roman consul, defeated by
Hannibal, VI. 198.
SEMUR,in France, XX. 90.
Semyle, Hindu fortress, XX. 90.
Senan-Fou, Chinese city, XX. 90.
Senate, XX. 90—of the United States,
XXI. 481.
Senator, XX. 90.
Senatds-Consdltum, XX. 91.
Sendwah, Hindu town, XX. 91.
Senebier on vegetable physiology, XXI.
578, et seq.
Seneca (Lucius Annaeus), XX. 91; XIX.
403—on comets, I. 452—tragedies of,
VIII. 151—on optics, XVI. 348 —
philosophy and style of, XVII. 412,
413.
Senefelder, lithographer, XIII. 380.
Senegal, XX. 92—Adanson’s observa¬
tions there, II. 141.
Senegambia, in Africa, XX. 92.
Senelops, arachnides, III. 361.
Seneschal, XX. 94.
Sengbest, Persian town, XX. 94.
Sengen, Chinese city, XX. 94.
Sengoa, Persian village, XX. 94.
Senjen, island, XX. 94.
Senlis, in France, XX. 94; X. 382.
Senna, Persian town, XX. 94.
—: , a drug, alkali in, VI. 467—
Egyptian, VIII. 526.
Sennaar, in Nubia, XX. 95; II. 230 —
Bruce’s residence at, V. 607.
Sennacherib, III. 718—invasion of Egypt
by, VIII. 467.
SennS, II. 232.
Sennertes (Daniel), XX. 95.
Senones, XX. 96.
Senrab, Hindu town, XX. 96.
Sens, in France, XX. 96.
Sensation, XX. 96 ; XIV. 602 ; XVII.
579, 588, 659 ; XVIII. 52—Locke on
ideas which result from, I. 110-12—
physiological laWs of, Xyil. 671 —
peculiar to animals, III. 157—acute
sensibility of ants, 240—in the bee,
IV. 522—Condillac on, VII. 206—
effects of custom on acuteness of, 561.
See Senses.
 (Organs of), in man, II. 797—
brutes, III. 21—Crustacea, VII 498
—mollusea, XV. 351, et seq.—stelle-
rides, XXI. 1010.
Sense, XX. 96.
 (Common), XX. 96; I. 387;
XIV. 638.
  (Moral), XX. 96; XV. 490 ;
XIV. 628. See Conscience.
Senses, XVII. 661—those of man and
other animals compared, III. 163,165
—their acuteness among the Arabs,
330 ; and the blind, IV. 694, 698
—Aristotle on the, III. 507—pleasures
and pains of the, XX. 96—of ants,
III. 240; insects, IX. 78 ; fishes, XII.
157. See Sensation, Hearing, Smell,
Taste, Touch, Vision.
Sensible Note, in music, XX. 99.
Sensibility, XX. 99; XVII. 134, 679
SEN—SER
—distinguished from irritability, XII.
457—of savages, XVIII. 55.
Sensitive Plant, XX. 100 ; XXI. 587.
Sensorial power, XVII. 593.
 Functions, XVII. 658.
Sensorium, XVII. 673, 679—its psycho¬
logical relations, 680. See Brain.
 commune, XVII. 458.
Sentence, XX. 102.
Sentinel, or Sentry, XX. 102.
 Perdu, XX. 102. -
 (Great and Little), islands
in the Eastern Seas, XX. 102.
Seouny, XX. 102.
Sepals of flowers, III. 96 ; V. 42.
Separatists, sect, XX. 102.
Sepedon, insect, IX. 289.
Sepia, mollusca, XV. 353 ; XVII. 719.
Sepiacea, mollusca, XV. 353.
Sepoury, or Sipry, Hindu town and for¬
tress, XX. 103.
Sepoys, or Seapoys, XX. 103.
Seppings(SirR.),his improvement of the
block under ships in graving-dock,
VIII. 77—his improvements in ship¬
building, XVI. 45; XX. 288, 290,291.
 (J. M.), on the woods of India,
XXI. 299.
Seps, reptile, XIX. 149.
Sepsis, insect, IX. 285.
September, XX. 103—gardening ope¬
rations in, XI. 690.
Septennial parliaments, act for, V. 376
—attempt to repeal it, 379.
Septentrio, XX. 103.
Septios, XX. 103.
Septizon, XX. 103.
Septuagesima, XX. 103.
Septuagint, XX. 103 ; XIX. 787 ; IV.
613; XI. 502 ; XII. 569.
 Chronology, XX. 105.
Sepulchre, XX. 105—Roman sepulchral
monuments, III. 447. See Tomb.
 (St), canons of, XX. 105.
 (Knights of the Holy), mili¬
tary order, XX. 105.
Sequani, XX. 105.
Sequestration, XX. 105.
Sequin, coin, XX. 105 ; XV. 407.
Sera, Hindu town, XX. 105.
Seraglio, XX. 106.
Serai, XX. 106.
Serampei, in Sumatra, XX. 106.
Serampoor, Hindu town, XX. 106.
Serampore, town in Bengal, XX. 106—
mission, XIX. 111.
Serangani Isles, XX. 106.
Seraph, or Seraphim, XX. 106.
Serapion, ancient physician, XX. 106.
Serapis, Egyptian deity, XX. 106;
VIII. 554—image of, at Alexandria,
II. 410.
Seraptia, insect, IX. 168.
Serbs, their language, XIII. 89.
Sereek, Persian town, XX. 107.
Serenade, XX. 107.
Serenus, mathematician, XIV. 315.
 Sammonicus, XX. 107.
Seres, Asiatic people, XX. 107, 351—
Ptolemy’s description of the, III. 696.
 , or Sirus, Turkish city, XX. 107.
Serfs, Russian, XIX. 579.
Serge, a woollen stuff, XX. 107.
Sergeant, XX. 107—at law, ib.; VII.
430—at-arms, XX. 107—common,ib.
Sergeanty, in law, XX. 108.
Serica, insect, IX. 159.
Sericaria, insect, IX. 248.
Sericomyia,insect, IX. 274.
Sericostoma, insect, IX. 214.
Series, XX. 108—infinite, II. 467.
Serinagur, XX. 119.
Seringapatam, XX. 120—Lord Corn¬
wallis’s expedition against, V. 462—
capture of, by the British, 488; XI.
430, 433.
Seringham, island, XX. 121.
Serino, Italian city, XX. 121.
Seriola, fish, XII. 186.
Serle’s Island, XX. 121.
Serlio,- notice of the architectural publi¬
cations of, III. 425.
Sermatta, island, XX. 121.
SER—SET
Seronge, Hindu town, XX. 121.
Serous membrane, 11.754; XVII. 599
—mucus of the, VI. 497.
Serpens, in astronomy, XX. 121.
Serpent, musical instrument, XX. 155;
XV. 615.
 , in mythology, XX. 155—used
as an emblem, XX. 2—its degradation
at the fall of man, XXI. 216—Druid-
ical notions about the serpent’s egg,
VIII. 208.
Serpents, XX. 121—their power of ab¬
stinence, II. 46 ; III. 167 — their
bones, 14, et seq.—ears, 26 — poi¬
son-gland and fangs, 40 — poison¬
ous bites, XIV. 507, 526—structure,
XVII. 714—of Barbary, IV. 362—of
India, XI. 383.
Serpentarius, XX. 156.
Serpentine, XX. 156—specific gravity
of, XII. 35.
 Verses, XX. 156.
Seepoor, Hindu town, XX. 156.
Serpuchow, XX. 156.
Serpula, worm, XI. 218.
 , in conchology, XV. 349.
Serra, Italian town, XX. 156.
Serra di Falco, XX. 156.
Serra do Frio, diamond-mines of, VIII. 4.
Serramannu, XX. 156.
Serranus (Joannes), XX. 156.
 , fish, XII. 168.
Serrasalmus, fish, XII. 212.
Serrated, XX. 156.
Serra-Valle, Italian town, XX. 156.
Serravalle,.Austrian city, XX. 156.
Serre (M.), oi» harmony, XV. 606.
Serricornes, insects, IX. 138.
Serris, Hindu town, XX. 156.
Serropalpides, insects, IX. 166.
Serropalpus, insect, IX. 166.
Sert, Turkish town, XX. 156.
Sertanejos of Pernambuco, XVII. 237.
Sertorius, XIX. 394 ; XX. 491.
Serum of blood, II. 713; VI. 493 ; XVII.
633, 636 —cellular, II. 714.
Servan (St), XIX. 615.
Servandoni (John N.), XX. 156.
Servant, XX. 157—duties of, XV. 472.
Servetists^ sect, XX. 157.
Servetus (Michael), XX. 157—circula¬
tion of the blood partially discovered
by, II. 697—his execution approved
of by Melancthon, VII. 446.
Servia, XX. ,158—alphabet of, II. 548
—language of, XIII. 89.
Service, choral, XX. 158.
Service-tree, XI. 649.
Servites, religious order, XX. 153.
Servitors in the university of Oxford,
XX. 158 ; XXL 496.
Servius (Maurus Honoratus), XX. 158.
 Tullius, XIX. 365, 379.
Serwel in Cabul, XX. 158.
Sesak, king of Egypt,VIII. 542; XI. 471.
Sesamoid bones, II. 745.
Sesamum-oil of Ava, IV. 241.
Seserinus, fish, XII. 188.
Sesia, insect, IX. 244.
Sesiades, insects, IX. 244.
Sesonehis, king of Egypt, VIII. 542.
Sesostris, XX. 158; XI. 324—reign of,
VIII. 463—architectural remains at¬
tributed to, III. 410—army and mili¬
tary exploits of, 580—different names
of, ib. n. 3—date of his reign, ib. n. 5
—great ship said to hare been built
by, VII. 694.
Sesqui, Latin particle, XX. 159.
Sesquialter, in music, XX. 159.
Sesqui-alterate, XX. 159.
Sesqui-duplicate Ratio, XX. 159.
Sesqui-tertional Proportion,XX. 159.
Session, XX. 159—of Parliament, ib.—
. Court of, VIII. 418 ; XIX. 754—
Kirk-Session, XX. 159—Sessions for
weights and measures, ib.—Court of
Quarter-Sessions, ib.
Sesterce, or Sestertius,. Roman coin,
XX. 159; XIV. 471, etseq.-, XV. 398
Sestet, in music, XX. 159.
Sestos, Turkish fortress, XX. 159,
Set or Sets, in hedging, XX. 159.
140
INDEX
SET—SEY
Setcheou, Chinese city, XX. 159.
Setching, Chinese city, XX. 159.
Setchuen, Chinese province, XX. 159.
Seth, son of Adam, XX. 160.
Sethians, sect of heretics, XX. 160.
Sethon, king of,Egypt, VIII. 466.
Seton, in surgery, XX. 160 ; XXI. 617,
«,—improved kind of, XX. 838.
Settee, in sea-language, XX. 160.
Setter-dogs, XX. 309.
Settina, river, VII. 595.
Setting, XX. 160.
Settle, in Yorkshire, XX. 160.
Settlement-law, XVIII. 368, 382.
Setijval, Portuguese city, XX. 160.
Sevastopol, Russian city, XX. 160;
II. 370 ; IV. 661 ; VII. 473.
Seven, veneration paid to the number,
III. 178; XIX. 596.
 Islands, off Banca, XX. 160.
 Stars, or Pleiades, XX. 160.
 Years’ War, V. 383; XX. 340-
tactics in the, XXI. 738.
Sevenoaks, town in Kent, XX. 160.
Seventh, in music, XX. 161.
Sever (St), XIX. 615.
Severinus (M. A.), XX. 829.
Severites, III. 127.
Severn, river, XX. 161 ; VIII. 760 ;
XV. 434 ; XXI. 936—its navigation,
X. 585 ; XVI. 18 ; XIX. 621—Severn
and Thames Canal, XVI. 19.
Seveendroog, island, XX. 161.
Severus (Cornelius), poet, XX. 161.
 , Roman emperor, XIX. 410—
Byzantium destroyed by, V. 761—his
residence in Egypt, VIII. 476—his
expedition against the Caledonians,
XIX. 695—Wall of, XX. 161.
 (Cassius), apparition said to have
been seen by. III. 296.
Seves (Colonel), his services to Mehem-
med AH, VIII. 502.
Sevigne' (Marie de Rabutin Marquise
de), XX. 163.
Seville, in Spain, XX. 163.
Sevres (Deux), in France, XX. 165.
 , near Paris, porcelain-manufac¬
tory of, XVIII. 434.
S-ewad, Affghan district, XX. 165.
Sewalic Mountains, XX. 165.
Sewan, Hindu town, XX. 165.
Sewee, in Belochistan, XX. 165.
Sewel’s History of the Quakers referred
to, XVIII. 765.
Sewer, XX. 166.
Sewers, building of, V. 670—of towns,
XIV. 512—of Rome, VI. 765 ; XIX.
427 ; XX..d66.
Sowistan, or Seistan, XX. 79.
Sewcri, kind of guitar, XX. 166.
Sex, XX. 166—neuter sex of ants, III.
239—mortality less in female sex than
in male, 208—instinct between the
sexes, XII. SOI; XVII. 461, 689-pro¬
portion of their numbers, XV. 535.
Sexagenary, XX. 166.
Sexagesima Sunday, XX. 166.
Sexagesimal arithmetic, III. 537.
Sexagesimals, XX. 166.
Sextans, XX. 166.
Sextant, XX. 166 ; XV. 782—its use
in seamanship, XX. 56.
Sextile, XX. 166.
Sextius (Quintus), XX. 166.
Sexton, XX. 167.
Sextuple, in music, XX. 167.
Sextus Empiricus, XX. 167.
Sexual organs of man, 11. 823 ; XVII.
687—of brutes, III. 40—of plants,
III. 95, 97; V. 43, 88.
 Instinct, XII. 301; XVII. 461,
689.
Sexualist-e, XX. 167.
Seychelles Islands, XIV. 333.
Seyfarth on hieroglyphics, XI. 359.
Seyland, island, XIII. 112.
Seymour (Jane), wife of Henry VIII.,
VII. 446 ; VIII. 746, 749.
  (Lord Webbe), his klinometer,
XII. 743.
Seymour’s rope-machine, XIX. 463.
Sbyne (La), French city, XX. 167.
SEY—SHA
Seysumah, Hindu town, XX. 167.
Sezawul, XX. 167.
Sforza (Ludovic), XII. 475.
S’Gravesande’s air-pump, XVIII. 83.
Shack, XX. 167.
Shackles of a ship, XX. 167.,
Shaddock, XI. 60.
Shade, in drawing, VIII. 183.
Shadow, XX. 167—line described on a
plane by, VII. 773.
Shadowrah, Hindu town, XX. 167.
Shadwell (Thomas), English drama¬
tist, XX. 167 ; VIII. 173.
 , in Middlesex, XX. Y67.
Shaffhausen, canton of, XXI. 49.
Shafras (Gregory Savarof), XX. 168.
Shaft, in architecture, III. 470.
Shaftesbury, in Dorset, XX. 168.
 (Earls of). See Cooper.
Shagreen, XX. 168.
Shahabad, Hindu town, XX. 168.
Shahjehanpoor, XX. 168.
Shahnoor, Hindu town, XX. 168.
Shahpoor, Hindu town, XX. 168.
Shairghur, Hindu town, XX. 168.
Shakspeare (William), XX. 169—anec¬
dote of, at the Globe Tavern, II. 526
—his disregard of the unities, VIII.
163—defence of his comic scenes in
tragedy, 164—his merits as a drama¬
tist, 168—seems to have been indif¬
ferent to fame, 169—his plays revived
by Garrick, 176—Dr Farmer on his
learning, IX. 488—his imagination,
XVIII. 141—his poetry, 144, 170—
editions of. by Capell, V. 109 ; John¬
son, XII. 597 ; Pope, XVIII. 401;
Steevens, XX. 715; and Theobald,
XXI. 200.
Shale, XV. 197—specific gravity of, XII.
35—bituminous, II. 574.
Shallop, XX. 188.
Shallot, culture of, XI. 671.
Shalmaneser, III. 718.
Shamans, XX. 188.
Shambles, in mining, XX. 188.
Shame, almost unknown amongthe Ame¬
rican savages, II. 632.
Shamly, Hindu town, XX. 188.
Shamois, or Chamois, leather, XX. 188.
Shanavaz, Afghan town, XX. 188.
Shandorah, Hindu town, XX. 188.
Shangallas, II. 62; IX. 377.
Shank’s Island, XX. 188.
Shannon, Irish river, XX. 189—navi¬
gation of the, XII. 414 ; XVI. 22, 23 ;
XIX. 479.
 (Mr), on brewing, V. 231.
Shaparee, island, IV. 247.
Shapoor, or Sapor, king of Persia, XVII.
261 ; VII. 275, 276.
Shapoorah, Hindu town, XX. 189.
Shapour, Persian city, XX. 189—ruins
of, XVII. 258.
Shark, XII. 231 — on the coasts of
Africa, II. 229—shark-fishery in Ice¬
land, XII. 148.
Sharmuth, fish, XII. 203.
Suarp (Abraham), XX. 190.
 (Granville), his opposition to
the slave-trade, XX. 384.
 (James), archbishop of St An¬
drews, XX. 189—his hostility to the
Covenanters, V. 349—Mitchell’s at¬
tempt to assassinate him, 350—mur¬
der of, 351.
 (Dr John), archbishop of York,
XX. 190.
 , in music. See Music.
Sharpe and Roberts, their self-acting
mule, VII. 403—their power-loom,
XXI. 830.
Sharpey (Dr), on the stellerides, XXI.
1009.
Shary, river, V. 12.
Shaster, Hindu sacred book, XX. 190.
Shat-ul-arab, river, XX. 192.
Shavings of wood, electricity of, VIII.
602.
Shaw (Dr Thomas), XX. 192.
  (Dr), on the harvest-bug, III.
369—on the hamster, XIV. 135—on
zoology, XVI. 550—on tortoise-shell,
SHA—SHE
XIX. 131—on the gecko, 147—on
the cameleon, 148.
Shawabad, in Hmdustan, XX. 192.
Shawer, VIII. 479.
Shawls, figured, XX. 192—Cashmere,
VI. 213; XIV. 163; XXI. 256—
French, X. 180—manufacture of, at
Paisley, XVI. 734.
Shawneetown, in Illinois, XII. 249.
Shawpoor, Hindu town, XX. 194.
Sheale (Richard), XIX. 333.
Shearing of sheep, II. 333, 335.
Sheath-bill, bird, XVI. 628.
Sheathing of ships, XX. 194—copper¬
sheathing, V. 440 ; XVI. 45 ; VII.
311, 642, 502 ; XX. 273.
Sheats of a ship, XX. 194.
Sheave, in mechanics, XX. 194.
Sheba, II. 49 ; X. 338, n.
Shebbeare (John), XX. 194.
Sheep, II. 327; XIV. 164; VIII. 290;
XVII. 709—of America, II. 653—
Arabia, III. 329—Dorsetshire, VIII.
119, 120—county of Down, 133—
England, 766—France, X. 176—Ger¬
many, 484—Ireland, XII. 407—Lei¬
cestershire, XIII. 209—Spain, XX.
517—Sussex, XXL 9-Tibet, 256—
New South Wales, 720—Mr Bake-
well’s improvement of, II. 263 —
Merino, ib., 330, 335—turnip-feeding
of, 287—pasturing of, 310—varieties
of, 327—breeding and rearing of, 331
—shearing of, 333, 335—folding of,
334—gadfly in, IX. 279—cure of the
scab in, XII. 293—foot-rot in, XXI.
621—leg-evil,ib.—sheep-bot, 627. See
Veterinary Science, Wool.
Sheep’s-head, fish, XII. 177.
Sheergotta, Hindu town, XX. 194.
Sheerness, town in Kent, XX. 194—
dockyard at, VIII. 83; XXI. 819.
Sheer-plan, in ship-building, XX. 275.
Sheet-glass, X. 569.
Sheet-lightning, VI1T. 622.
Sheffield, XX. 195—hardware-manu¬
factures of, VII. 566-7 ; VIII. 775—
Canal, XVI. 18.
 —(John), Duke of Buckingham,
XX. 197; XVIII. 394—his Rehear¬
sal, VIII. 222—monument to Dryden
erected by, 223.
Shegkius (.James), blind author, IV. 700.
Shehallien. See Schehallien.
Sheick, Egyptian officer, XX. 197.
Sheikhs,Turkish, XXI.424. See Scheick.
Sheikpoor, Hindu town, XX. 198.
Shekarpoor, in Seistan, XX. 198.
Shekel, XX. 198.
Shekoabad, Hindu town, XX. 198.
Shelburn, in Nova Scotia, XVI. 286.
Shelburne (Earl of), his administration,
V. 423, 426.
Sheldon on the lymphatics, II. 703.
Shell, in gunnery, XI. 71.
Shells as an object of amusement, XV.
374—polishing of, 375—formation of
collections of, 375—fossil, 376, 183,
et seq.—moulding of, XXI. 430—of
cheloniad reptiles, III. 14—of mol-
lusca, XV. 824. et seq.; XVII. 718.
Shell-fish, VII. 497 ; XV. 324.
Shell-lac, the best insulator in electri¬
city, VIII. 581. See Lac.
Shell-marl, XV. 225.
Shellam, Indian town, XX. 198.
Shelley, poetry of, XVIII. 144.
 (Mrs), character of her Franken¬
stein, XIX. 346.
Shellium, Hindu town, XX. 198.
Shelluhs of Barbary, IV. 364.
Shelton, in Staffordshire, XX. 198.
Shelves, in ship-building, XX. 284.
Shem, descendants of, XVII. 355.
Shenstone (William), XX. 198—^judi¬
cious reflections of, I. 119—poetry of,
XVIII. 173.
Shepoory, Hindu town, XX. 198.
Shepperton, in Middlesex, XX. 199.
Sheppey (Isle of), XX. 199; XII. 695.
Shepton-Mallet, XX. 199.
Sheb, Hindu town, XX. 199.
Sherard (William), VIII. 30.
SHE—SHO
• Sherbet, XX. 199.
Sherborne, in Dorsetshire, XX. 199.
Sherburn, in Yorkshire, XX. 199.
Sheregur, XX. 199.
Sheribon, VI. 507.
Sheridan (Dr Thomas), XX. 199.
 (Mrs Frances), XX. 200.
 (Richard Brinsley), XX. 200
—his speech against Mr Hastings, V.
444—on the French Revolution, 456
—on the French war, 472—on the
expedition to Holland, 494—on the
peace of Amiens, 507, 510—comedies
of, VIII. 176.
Sheriff (Mr), on the culture of the wil¬
low, IV. 430.
Sheriffs in England, IX. 19—in Scot¬
land, XIX. 756.
Sheriffmuir, battle of, V. 374.
Sherlock (William), divine, XX. 204.
 (Dr Thomas), bishop, XX. 205.
Sheron, Persian village, XX. 205.
Sherriff, Mahommedan title, XX. 205
—Arabian Sherriffs, III. 332.
Sherry wine, XXI. 902, 955.
Sherwin’s Mathematical Tables, notice
of, XIII. 420.
Sherwood Forest, XVI. 283.
Shetland Islands, XXI. 986. See Zetland.
   (South), XVIII. 224.
Shevagunga, Hindu town, XX. 205.
Shevagurry, Hindu town, XX. 205.
Shevelpatore, Hindu town, XX. 205.
Shiel (Mr), his speech on Catholic eman¬
cipation, V. 574.
Shield, XX. 205; V. OS'!—in heraldry,
XX. 2Q6; XI. 244.
  Cape, XX. 206.
Shieldrake, bird, XVI. 637.
Shielduck, bird, XVI. 637.
Shields (North), XX. 206.
 (South), XX. 206.
Shifnal, in Salop, XX. 206.
Shift, in shipbuilding, XX. 275.
Shijashrotan, island, XX. 206.
Shildag (Loch) fishery, XIX. 487.
Shillibear’s voltaic battery, XXI. 671.
Shilling, English coin, XX. 206.
Shillooks of Africa, II. 239.
Shiloh, XX. 207.
Shin (Loch), XXI. 10.
Shin-bone, II. 790, 792.
Shinaas, Persian sea-port, XX. 207.
Shingles, in building, XX. 207.
Ships, XX. 207—Chinese, VI. 574-
lightning-conductors for, VIII. 647-
insurance of, XII. 317 — action of
wind on, XVIII. 114—hogging of,
XX. 285—tonnage, XXI. 326. See
Navy, Shipping, Anchor, Sail, &c.
Ship-Building, XX. 208—its relations
to hydrostatics, I. 608—bevelling, IV.
6 06—block-machinery, 704 — copper
sheathing, V. 440 ; XVI. 45; VII.
311, 642, 502 —capstan, VI. 128-
building of masts, 165—caulking, 251
—proportions, form, and structure of
steam ships, XX. 701—tonnage, XXL
326. See Dock-yards, Dry Rot, Re¬
sistance of Fluids, Timber.
Shipley Canal, XVI. 17.
Ship-Money, XX. 297 ; V. 315.
Shipping of England, VIII. 779, 786-7
—France, X. 199—Ireland, XII. 416
—Scotland, XIX. 768—United States,
XXI. 469. See the geographical ar¬
ticles generally.
Shipston-on-Stour, a town in Worces¬
tershire, XX. 297.
Shipwreck, means of escape from, XUI.
322—plundering of shipwrecked mer¬
chants in Denmark, VII. 721.
Shipwrights, education of, at Ports¬
mouth, II. 78.
Shirawati, cataract of, XVII. 523.
Shiraz, Persian city, XX. 297.
Shire, XX. 298—England divided into
shires by Alfred, II. 419.
Shirley (Sir Anthony), XVII. 266.
Shirt, XX. 298.
Shirvan, Persian province, XX. 298
Shishak, XI. 471 ; VIII. 542.
Shoa, in Abyssinia, II. 59.
INDEX
141
SHO—SIC
Shoad, XX. 299—shoad-stones, ib.
Shoal, XX. 299.
Shoal-Water Bat, XX. 299.
Shoe, XX. 299 — Island, ib.—of an
anchor, ib.
Shoeing of horses, XXI. 618.
Shoemakers, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Shoengaer, painter, XVI. 721.
Shoket, Syrian village, XX. 299.
Sholapoor, Hindu town, XX. 299.
Sholavanden, Hindu town, XX. 299.
Shooting, XX. 300.
Shops, signs of, III. 308.
Shopmen, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Shore of the sea, XX. 318.
 (Jane), XX. 318.
Shoreham, in Sussex, XX. 318—corrup¬
tion in, V. 393.
Shoring, in carpentry, V. 686.
Short (James), optician, XX. 318.
 (Dr Thomas), his work on bills
of mortality, XV. 514.
Short-hand writing, II. 551; XX. 716
—ancient, XVI. 279.
Short-sightedness, XX. 318; XVI.
513; XVII. 671.
Shot, XX. 318, 304—case-shot, 319—
shot of a cable, ib.
Shouaas, V. 14.
Shoulder, bones of the, II. 786—joint,
789 ; XVII. 617—muscles, II. 793-
sprain of, in cattle, XXI. 618 —
shoulder-blade in the mammalia, III.
8; birds, 13; reptiles, 15.
Shochshu, island. XX. 319.
Shoot, XX. 319.
Shovel (Sir Cloudesly), XX. 319—ship¬
wrecked on the rocks of Scilly, V. 370.
Shoveller, bird, XVI. 637.
Shrapnell-shells, XI. 71.
Shrew, in zoology, XIV. 102.
Shrewsbury, XX. 319; XIX. 623 —
battle of, VIII. 732-canal, XVI. 18.
Shrike, bird, XVI. 568.
Shrimp, VII. 501—Lymington, 503.
Shropshire, XIX. 621—breed of pigs,
II. 338-canal, XVI. 18.
Shrouds of a ship, XX. 320.
Shrove-Tuesday, XX. 320.
Shrubs, XX. 320; XI. 678—trunks of,
III. 82—for hedges, XVII. 785—ever¬
green,ib.—deciduous ornamental, 786.
Shubneeeadie, river, XVI. 284.
ShUckburgh’s (Sir George) scale, XXI.
360.
Shugawulpoor, XX. 319.
Shukasku, in Arabia, XX. 319.
Shumsabad, in Lahore, XX. 320.
Shundeabandy, XX. 320.
Shus, in Persia, XX. 320.
Shuster, in Persia, XX. 320.
Shutters of windows, V. 690.
Shuttle,weaver’s, XX. 320; XXI. 824.
Siak, river in Sumatra, XX. 320.
Sialus, insect, IX. 213.
Siam, XX. 321—language of, XIII. 80
—trade with Singapore, XX. 367—
weights and measures of, XXI. 855—
map of, XII., PI. CCCVII-2.
Sibbald (Sir R.), on conohology, XV. 331.
Siberia, XX. 324—climate of, III. 680
—languages of, XIII. 91—Hansteen’s
magnetical observations in, 748—
—mines of, XV. 251, et seq annexed
to Russia, XIX. 536—exiles in, 588—
ancient sepulchres in, XXI. 324.
 (New), XIX. 590.
Sibthorp (Professor), V. 83.
Sibils, XX. 328; XIX. 367.
Sibylline Books, II. 585.
Sicard (Abbe), on the education of the
deaf and dumb, VII. 647, 652.
Sicera, liquor, XX. 328.
Siehardus (Joannes), bis edition of the
Theodosian Code, VI. 714.
Sicilian diver, account of the wonderful
feats of a, VIII. 60.
Sicilian Vespers, XII. 473; XV 695.
Siciliana, dance, XX. 328.
Sicily, XX. 328—pointed architecture
°f. HI. 422—Athenian war with, IV.
156—Carthaginian invasions of, VI.
184, ef saq.—introduction of silk into,
SIC—SIL
VIII. 300—French trade with, X. 190
—history of, XI. 475, et seq.—lan¬
guage, XIII. 88—coins, XIV. 472 ;
XV. 408, 411—coast, 700—climate
and productions, 704 —papyrus, XVII.
49—sirocco, 541—the plague, 777—
—Roman wars, XIX. 384—weights
and measures, XXI. 855—map of,
XII., PI. CCCXIX.
Sickle, II. 270.
Sickler (Dr), XI. 266.
Siculiana, XV. 702.
Siddons (Mrs), XX. 328.
Siderocalcite, sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Sidero-schisolite, sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Sideroscope, Lebaillif’s, XIII. 771.
Sidmouth, in Devon, XX. 329.
 (Lord). See Addington.
Sidney (Algernon), XX. 329.
' (SirHenry), in Ireland,XII. 364.
 (Sir Philip), XX. 329—his cen¬
sure of the old plays, VIII. 155, 157
—his patronage of Spencer, XX. 533.
Sidon, XX. 329; XVII. 451; XIX. 614
—commerce of, VII. 155,
Sidds (Georgium), one of the planets,
XX. 330. See Uranus.
Siebenburgen. See Transylvania.
Siege, IX. 777; XXI. 753—artillery
used in a, III. 637, 640—mode of con¬
ducting a, 637.
Siegesbeck on the sexes of plants, V. 80.
Sienna, in Italy, XX. 330—Academy of
Sciences at, II. 69.
Sierra Leone, XX. 330; II. 234.
Sierra-Morena, in Spain, XX. 331.
Sieur, French title, XX. 331.
Sievright on pyro-electricity, VIII. 596.
Sifanto, island, XX. 331, 369.
Sigalphus, insect, IX. 222.
Siganus, fish, XII. 189.
Sigaretus, molluscum, XV. 364.
Sighing, XX. 331.
Sight. See Vision.
Sigibert, X. 4, et seq.
Sigillina, mollusca, XV. 370.
Sigismund, king of Poland and Sweden,
XXL 16.
Signs, or written characters, remarks
on, I. 66-7—of taverns, III. 308—of
the zodiac, 765. See Characters.
Signals, XXI. 137—naval, XX. 331 ;
XVI. 56—signals used in the trigono¬
metrical survey, XXI. 362.
Signature, in printing, XX. 339.
Signet, XX. 339.
Sikes’s hydrometer, XII. 25.
Sikhs, XI. 395 ; XIII. 19 ; XX. 76.
Sikokf, island, XII. 510.
Silberberg, Prussian town, XX. 339.
Silesia, XX. 339—heights of mountains
of, XVII. 505—Silesian wars, III. 597.
Silica, chemical character of, VI. 373
—phosphorescent effects of electricity
on siliceous substances, VIII. 634.
Silicernium, XX. 341.
Silicet of iron, VI. 405.
Silicon, in chemistry, yi. 373—sulphu-
ret of, 377.
Silicula, in botany, V. 49.
Siliqua, in botany, V. 49.
Siliquaiia, mollusca, XV. 349.
Silis, insect, IX. 144.
Sinus lTALicus(Caiu6),poet, XX. 341.
Silk, XX. 341—of Bengal, IV. 566;
Cochin-China, VII. 11; Georgia, &c.,
XIX. 589 ; Greece, X. 728 ; Italy,
XII. 488 ; Japan, 511 ; Lombardy,
XIII. 477—of the spider. III. 354,
355—ancient Asiatic trade in, 698—
bleaching of, IV. 691—dyes better
than cotton and linen, VIII. 298—
atomic constituents of, ib.—origin of,
300—scouring of, ib.—dyeing of, ib.
—method of dyeing it red, 315 ; yel¬
low-, 322; orange, 323, 337 ; blue,
327 ; black, 329 ; green, 334 ; violet or
purple, 336, 338 ; mixtures of black,
&c., 338—imports of, into the United
Kingdom, 784.
Silk-manufacture, XX. 343—of Asia,
III. 701—Derbyshire, VII. 736-Dub-
lin, VIII. 247—England,776—France,
SIL-SIM
X. 182—Germany, 489—Ireland, XII.
404—Jungeypoor, 631—London, XIII.
505—Lyons, 613—Manchester, XIV. J
223—Persia, XVII. 245, 246—Scot- !
land, XIX. 769—Valencia, XXI. 548 |
—calendering, VI. 20. See Design, j
Silk-worms, XX. 350 ; IX. 239, 247—
of Egypt, VIII. 525—Granada, X.
704 — India, XI. 380—trade in, in
Lombardy, XIII. 478—rapid growth
of, 479.
Sill of windows, III. 470 ; V. 675.
Sill a, African town, XX. 354.
Sillago, fish, XII. 170.
Sillock, fish, XII. 218.
Silpha, insect, IX. 148.
Silphales, insects, IX. 147.
Silting, process of, VIII. 193.
Silures, V. 298.
Silurian system, in geology, XV. 192.
Siluridae, fishes, XII. 202.
Silurus, fish, XII. 202—electric, 203;
I. 622; VIII. 614; XVII. 718.
Silver, VI. 418—assaying of. III. 709—
extraction of, from ores, V. 8—stand¬
ard sterling silver of Great Britain,
VI. 420—salts of oxide of, 451—coin¬
age, VII. 37—process of coining, 45
—supply of, in early ages, 159—effect
of its increase on productive industry',
ib.—recent decrease in supply of, 162
—its value in the early part of last
century, 337—specific gravity of, XII.
35—coins of, XIV. 474 ; XV. 384, et
seq.—debasement of, XIV. 496—some
of its salts poisonous, 502—corneous,
XV. 144—native, 165—red, 170 —
plating with, XVIII. 9—why less va¬
luable tlian gold,289—cohesionof, 756.
Silver-glance, XV. 168—brittle, 170.
Silver-mines, XV. 255—in America, II.
646; XV. 264—Ava, IV. 241—Boli¬
via, 749—Chili, VI. 528, 529, 534—
Europe, IX. 409—Haiti, XVI. 681 —
Hungary, IV. 230— Mexico, XIV.
802 ; XV. 260—Norway, XVI. 262—
Pasco, XVII. 109 —Potosi, XVIII.
499—Puno, 739—Russia, XIX. 575,
578—Siberia, XX. 327—Spain, XII.
494—What advantage accrues to a
country from colonies possessing
them ? VII. 122.
Silvering, XX. 354 ; XVIII. 9.
Silvias, insect, IX. 265.
Silvio acid, VI. 430.
Simaroubese, in botany, V. 105.
Simeon of Durham, XX. 354.
 ■, Jewish patriarch, XVII. 141.
 Stylites, XI. 495.
Simferopol, XX. 354 ; II. 370.
Simiadae, in zoology, XIV. 89.
Simile catarrhini, XIV. 89—platyrrhini,
93. See Monkeys.
Simile, XX. 354 ; VII. 185.
Similor, XX. 354.
Simmering, sounds of, XX. 572.
Simnel (Lambert), XII. 361.
Simoga, Hindu town, XX. 354.
Simon Maccabeus, XX. 354.
 Magus, XX. 354.
 (Richard), XX.355—his French
New Testament, IV. 616.
Simonides, XX. 355 — invention of
mnemonics by, XV. 308.
Simons (Richard), VIII. 740.
Simony, XX. 356.
Simoom wind, XX. 356 ; XVII. 541—of
Arabia, III. 324—of Egypt, VIII. 515
—its effects in the Sahara, XIX. 613.
Simplicimani, insects, IX. 124.
Simplicipedes, insects, IX. 130.
Simplon, XX. 356—Bonaparte’s road
over the, II. 559, n.
Simpson (Thomas), XX. 356—questions
of physical astronomy solved by, I.
578—on annuities, III. 199—on ma¬
thematics, XIV. 323—on mortality,
XV. 545—on probability, XVIII. 594.
Simpson’s Island, XX. 357.
Simpson’s arctic expeditions,XVIII. 222.
Sims (Dr), on latent cerebral disease,
XVII. 478.
Simson (Archibald), V. 793.
SIM—SIR
Simson (Dr Robert), XX. 357 ; I. 582
—his restoration of problems of Apol¬
lonius, III. 289—on Euclid’s Porisms,
XVIII. 441.
 — (Dr Thomas), on latent disease,
XVII. 478, 480.
Simulia, insect, IX. 263.
Sin, in Africa, XX. 93.
Sin, original, XVIII. 517 ; XXI. 218.
Sinai (Mount), XX. 360—inscriptions
near, XII. 291—library of, XIII. 318
—Knights of St Catharine of, VI. 241.
Sinaloa, in Mexico, XIV. 818.
Sincerity, duty of, XV. 476.
Sinclair (George), on the barometer, IV.
396—works of, ib., n.
 (Sir John), on training, VIII. 25.
Sinclair’s Rocks, XX. 361.
Sindanqan Bay, XX. 361.
Sinde, a kingdom in Hindustan, XX.
361—river, 366.
Sinde Sagor, in Hindustan, XX. 366.
Sindoorg, Hindu town, XX. 366.
Sindkera, in Hindustan, XX. 366.
Sine of an arch, XX. 366 ; XXL 370-
arithmetic of sines, II. 485.
Sinew'. See Tendon.
Singan, Chinese city, XX. 366.
Singapore, XX. 366—trade of, III. 701 ;
with Siam, XX. 322—weights and
measures of, XXI. 855.
Singboom, in Orissa, XX. 368.
Singer (Mr), on the electricity of pow¬
ders, VIII. 602—on the fusion of
wires, and oxidation of metals, by-
electricity, 627, 628—on the revival
of oxides, ib.—on the effects of elec¬
tricity on gases, 632—his electrome¬
ters, 654—on the electric pile, XXI.
673.
Singhea, Hindu town, XX. 368.
SlNGHERICONDA, XX. 368.
Singing, XX. 368; XV. 607—embel¬
lishments in, 623—of birds, XX. 368.
Single-entry, book-keeping by, IV. 789.
Singrowla, in Hindustan, XX. 368.
Singumnese, in Hindustan, XX. 368.
Sinigaglia, Italian town, XVII. 4—fair
of, IX. 477.
Sinister, XX. 368.
Sinistri, heretics, XX. 368.
Sinkel, in Sumatra, XX. 368.
Sinking Fund, XX. 368 ; VIII. 796;
X. 244, 775—Pitt’s plan of a, V. 439
— Walpole’s bill, XXI. 727.
Sinope, port of, IV. 661,
Sinople, in heraldry, XX. 368.
 , specific gravity of, XII. 35.
Sintchei, island, XX. 368.
Sintos, Japanese'sect, XII. 514.
Sinuosity, XX. 368.
Sinus, in .anatomy, XX. 368—frontal,
II. 785—large in the bones of several
mammalia, III. 1, 6.
 , in surgery, XX. 369.
 , in farriery, XXI. 616.
Sion, town near Bombay, XX. 369.
 Hill, XII. 546 ; XXI. 988.
 College, VII. 69 ; XIII. 536.
Sionita (Gabriel), his translation of
Edrisi’s Geography, VIII, 432.
Siout, XX. 370.
Sioux, II. 617.
Siphanto, island, XX. 369, 331.
Siphona, insect, IX. 279.
Si-Porah, island, XX. 369.
Sir, title, XX. 369.
Sir Charles Hardy’s Island, in the
Pacific Ocean, XX, 369.
Sir Charles Hardy’s Islands, in the
Pacific Ocean, XX. 369.
Sir Charles Saunders’ Island, or
Tapooamanhoo, XX. 369.
Sir Henry Martin’s Island, XX. 369.
Sir Isaac Point, XX. 369.
Sir Joseph Banks’ Group, XX. 369.
Sir Roger Curtis’ Isles, XX. 369.
Siraf, Persian sea-port, XX. 369.
Sircar, Hindu office, XX. 369.
Sire, title, XX. 369.
Sirg, Abyssinian town, II. 06.
Siren, reptile, XIX. 161.
Sirens, in fable, XX. 369.
142
INDEX
SRI—SKU
JSirex, insect, IX. J18.
Siegoojah, Hindu town, XX. 369.
Sikhind, in Delhi, XX. 369.
Sirinagak, Hindu town, XX. 369.
Sirmarks, in ship-building, XX. 275.
Siro, genus of arachnides, III. 367.
Sirocco, wind, XX. 369 ; XVII. 541;
XIX. 693 ; XII. 340—electrical state
of the air during, VIII. 615.
Sirset, Hindu town, XX. 369.
Sirus, XX. 107.
Sirvaton, rock near Java, XX. 369.
Siskin, bird, XVI. 581.
Sismondi on Machiavelli, I. 234.
Sisson’s optical instruments, III. 748.
Sissoo-wood of India, XXI. 300, 301.
Sisteron, in France, XX. 370.
Sisters, islands, XX. 370.
Sistritm, musical instrument, XX. 369.
Sisyphus, in fable, XX. 370.
Sitana, reptile, XIX. 144.
Sitang, river, XX. 370.
Sitar, musical instrument, XX. 370.
Sitaris, insect, IX. 170.
Sitfasts in the horse, XXI. 637.
Sitophyeax, XX. 370.
Sitta, bird, XVI. 588.
Sittingbourne, in Kent, XX. 370.
Sittivacca, in Ceylon, XX. 370.
Situs, in algebra, &c., XX. 370.
SlUT, Egyptian town, XX. 370.
Siva, XX. 370; V. 176; XI. 399.
Sivana Samudra, island, XX. 370.
Siwah, in Lybia, XX. 370.
Six Islands, off Java, XX. 371.
Six (Mr), on dew, VII. 752—his register
thermometer, XVII. 530; XXI. 240.
Sixth, in music. See Interval, Music.
Sixtus V. (Pope), XX. 371.
Sizars, XX. 372—at Oxford, XXI. 496.
Size, XX. 372—for paper, XVII. 16—
in phrenology, 464.
Skager-Rack, IV. 324, et seq.
Skankarbauw, fish, XII. 179.
Skate, fish, XII. 235.
Skating, XX. 373.
Skeleton, XX. 373 ; II. 759 ; XVII.
613—of brutes, 701, et seq.; III. 1—
cleaned by exposure to ants, 241.
Skene (Sir John), lawyer, XX. 373.
 (Alexander), XX. 375.
 (Loch), VIII. 262.
Skerries, VIII. 234.
Skew-Bridge, XX. 375.
Skey on structure of muscles, XVII. 609.
Skin, structure of the, II. 750 ; XVII.
605—painted by the N. American
Indians, II. 621—cellular tissue under
the, 714 — its connection with the
mucous membranes, 754—chemical
character of, VI. 502—differences of
its complexion, VII. 189—seat of its
colour, 190—of the Crustacea, 497—
eruption of, common in Egypt, VIII.
517—of the mollusca, XV. 324—ex¬
cretory function of, XVII. 655—sen¬
sitive functions, 661—diseases of, in
the domestic animals, XXI. 636. See
Complexion, Skins.
 of plants, III. 65—pores of, 67
—of trees, 82.
Skinner (John), XX. 377.
 (Stephen), XX. 380.
Skins, imports of, into the United King¬
dom, VIII. 784. See Leather.
Skip-jack, fish, XII. 186.
Skipton, in Yorkshire, XX. 380.
Skiros, Turkish island, XX. 380.
Skirret, culture of, XI. 670.
Skirtings, in joinery, V. 687-8.
Skrimshire (Mr), on the phosphorescent
effects of electricity, VIII. 633-4.
Skua, bird, XVI. 633.
Skull (human), II. 770—general descrip¬
tion of, 782—structure and functions
of, XVII. 613—of the indigenous Ame¬
ricans, II. 616—distinguished by its
spheroidal shape and great size, 709—
ossification of, 745, 783—shape and
dimensions at different ages, 784 —
forms in different nations, ib.—Dau-
bentoh’s occipital angle, III. 6 —
Camper’s facial angle, ib.—Cuvier’s
SKU—SLI
method of estimating the proportion
of the face and, 7—how far corres¬
pondent in shape with the brain,
XVII. 460, 466 — artificial flattening
of, 555—surgical treatment of frac¬
tures of, XX. 837.
Skulls of brutes, XVII. 702, et seq.—
mammalia, III. 4—birds, 11—reptiles,
14—fishes, 17—not filled by the brain,
in some animals, 31.
Skunk, in zoology, XIV. 110.
Sky, colour of, XIV. 740; XVI. 510—
instrument for measuring the inten¬
sity of its colour, VII. 572; XIV.
740 ; XVII. 530—cold from a clear
sky, VII. 59. See Climate.
Skye, Scotch island, XX. 380.
Slacken, in metallurgy, XX. 381.
Slacks, in Londonderry, XIII. 530.
Slaney, river, XXI. 865.
Slate, XV. 189, 191—specific gravity of
slate-clay and stone, XII. 35, 36—dif¬
ferent kinds of slates, V. 682.
Slate-colour, dyeing of, VIII. 343.
Slate-quarries in Britain, XV. 242—
Caernarvonshire, V. 773—Cardigan¬
shire, VI. 137 — Dumbartonshire,
VIII. 258. See the geographical ar¬
ticles generally.
Slateford, aqueduct at, III. 322.
Slater’s-work, V. 682.
Slave river navigation, XVI. 23.
Slave Coast, XI. 29.
Slave-trade, XX. 384—African, II. 234,
238, 239—South American, 632—
commencement of the, 636—of the
Mamlukes, VIII. 484, 485—Adanson
on the, II. 143—discoveries in Africa
extended by, 220—opposition to, in
Britain, V. 448, 454, 459, 461—its
abolition there, 521—compensatory
grant to Spain in 1819, 544—first
abolished by the Danes, VII. 728—
Bryan Edwards on, VIII. 452—op¬
posed by Roscoe, XIX. 473; and by
Wilberforce, XXI. 885. See Negroes.
Slavery, XX. 381—in Afghanistan, II.
216—Bax-bary, IV. 366—Brazil, V.
202—Buenos Ayres, 654-Chili, VI.
537 —Colombia, VII. 92—Demerara,
706—India, XI. 403—Jamaica, XII.
497—Java, 533—Nubia, XVI. 295—
Russia, XIX. 579—the United States,
XXI. 458—Virginia, 659—domestic,
among the negroes, II. 223—Aris¬
totle’s view of, III. 528—Lord Ex¬
mouth’s expedition to Algiers for the
suppression of, V. 542—resolutions of
the House of Commons in 1823 for
improving the treatment of slaves,
560—proceedings in 1824, 562—Mo¬
saic law respecting, XV. 565—its in¬
fluence on the Athenians, XX. 437—
villenage, XXI. 650. See Captive.
Slavi, XVII. 420 ; XIX. 527—their re¬
ligion, 529.
Slavonic language. See Sclavonian.
Sleaford, in Lincolnshire, XX. 390—
navigation, XVI. 18.
Slebeze, island, XX. 390.
Sledge, XX. 390—of Canada, VI. 60—
of Lapland, XIII. 110.
Sledge-hammer, XX. 390.
Sleep, XX. 390 ; XVII. 681—aliment
less needed during, III. 167—circum¬
stances conducive to, and preventive
of, VIII. 189 — supposed sleep of
plants, XXI. 587.
Sleep-walking. See Somnambulism.
Sleepers, XX. 390. See Hybernation.
 of a ship, XX. 284.
Sleidan (John), historian, XX. 390.
Sleswick, XX. 391 ; VII. 726.
Sleut-Hound, XX. 391 ; IV. 710.
Slich, in metallurgy, XX. 391.
Slickenburg, island, XX. 391.
Slidderyford, pillars at, VIII. 133.
Slide-valves of steam-engines, XX. 647.
Sliding-Rule, XX. 391.
Slievenamanagh Mountains, XXI. 313.
Sligo, Irish county, XX. 391.
 (J. and W.), their improvement
of the still, VIII. 50.
SLI—SMI
Sling, XX. 395; XIV. 419—its em¬
ployment in war, III. 399.
Slingeby (Sir Robert), his work on the
navy, XX. 225.
Slinging, sea-term, XX. 395.
Slipper Island, XX. 395.
Slips for hauling up ships, VIII. 78.
Sloane (Sir Hans), XX. 395—on birds,
XVI. 546—Sloane MSS., XIII. 296.
Slobodsk-Ukraine, XX. 398.
Sloop, or Shallop, XX. 188.
Slot, in sportsmanship, XX. 398.
Sloth, an animal, XIV. 142—bones of
foot, III. 9, 10—stomachs, 35—intes¬
tines, 37—structure, XVII. 703, 706.
Slough, town in Bucks, XX. 398.
Slow-worms, XX.' 122.
Slowaks, XI. 724.
Slubbing of wool, XXI. 932.
Slugs, XV. 356 ; XVII. 719.
Sluice, XX. 398.
Slur, in music, XX. 398.
Sluys, Dutch town, XX. 398.
Sluzk, Russian city, XX. 398.
Smack, kind of ship, XX. 398.
Smaland, in Sweden, XX. 398.
Smalkald, German town, XX. 399—
league of, XIX. 90—articles of, 91.
Small’s plough, II. 266.
Small Key, island, XX. 399.
Smallpox, buying the, V. 755—inocu¬
lation for, XII. 283; XV. 424 ; VII.
200— deaths from, XV. 517. See
Vaccination.
Smalt, XX. 399—specific gravity of,
XII. 36.
Smaragdite, sp. gr. of, XII. 36.
Smaridia, arachnides, III. 368.
Smearing of sheep, II. 334.
Smeaton (John), XX. 399—his boring-
mill, V. 2—on arches, 270—his im¬
provement of the diving-bell, VIII.
68—on water-wheels, XII. 84, 89, 91;
XXI. 804, 807, 808 —on windmill-
sails, XIV. 433, 436, 454—his pen¬
dulum, XVII. 215 — his air-pump,
XVIII. 83—on the velocity of wind,
112—his pyrometer, 747—Eddystone
lighthouse erected by, XX. 16—his
improvements on the steam-engine,
629—his portable engine, 630—his
great Chasewater engine, 631—his
steam-engine boiler, 674.
Smectymnuus, V. 784 ; XV. 92.
Smee (Mr), on multiplication of works
of art in metal by voltaic electricity,
XXI. 682—on voltaic etching, 683.
Smell, XX. 400—sense of, in man,
XVII. 579,664; XIV. 610; XX. 404
—in brutes, III. 165 ; XVII. 703, et
seq.; ants. III. 240; bees, IV. 523 ;
insects, IX. 78; fishes, XII. 158—
acute in the Arabs, III. 330—organ
of, in man, II. 797; in brutes, III. 21.
See Nose.
Smellie (William), XX. 400—on in¬
stinct, XII. 297, 303—his connexion
with Gilbert Stuart, XX. 781-2.
Smelling, XX. 403. See Smell.
Smelt’s visit'to Egypt, VIII. 557.
Smelting of iron, VI. 88, 402; XII.
428—by hot-blast, XX. 406; X. 559 ;
XIII. 49 ; XV. 246, 250, n.
Smerinthus, insect,IX. 244.
Smethwick’s burning-mirror, V. 734.
Smilacese, in botany, V. 134.
Smilacin, VI. 467.
Smith (Adam), XX. 414—his theoreti¬
cal history of philosophy, I. 3—on the
ancient Greek philosophy, 9—on the
law of nations, 91—on French meta¬
physical writers, 172—his Disserta¬
tion on Language, 175-6—his Theory
of the Moral Sentiments, 358—his
style, ib.—his theory of sympathy,
359, 360-61—on apprenticeship, III.
310—his friendship with Dr Black,
IV. 656—on the high price of gold
before the recoinage, VII. 38—on mo¬
nopoly of colonial trade, 118—on the
value of gold and silver in the early
part of last century, 337—on division
of labour, 388; XVIII. 227—Lord
SMI—SNO
Hailes’s Latin version of his account
of Hume’s last illness, VII. 604—on
exchange, IX. 439—on municipal
law, XIII. 167—on money, XV. 383,
402—on cash-credits given by banks,
XVII. 43—on wealth, XVIII. 259—
his Wealth of Nations, 270 ; XX. 568
—effects of its publication, I. 35$—
its prohibition in Spain, IV. 629—on
capital, XVIII. 279—on desire to bet¬
ter our condition, 281—on the pro¬
ductiveness of agriculture, 283—on
retail-dealers, 284—on value, 286—
on wages, 287—on productive and un¬
productive consumption, 304—on pri¬
mogeniture, 533—his esteem of Ques-
nay, 790—on taxation, XXI. 98,etse<?.
Smith (Charles), on the corn produced
and consumed in the United King¬
dom, VII. 354.
 (Charlotte),novels of, XIX. 346.
 (Dr), his microscope, XV. 43.
 (Edmund), poet, XX. 414.
 (James), of Deanston; his reap¬
ing-machine, II. 270, 350—his spin¬
ning-machinery, X. 556—his self-act¬
ing cotton and spinning mules, XX.
539; mule-jenny, 541; woollen-mule,
545—his system of thorough-drain¬
ing, 730; and subsoil-ploughing, 731.
  (John), of Cambridge, on tbs
immortality of the soul, I. 58—pas¬
sages from, illustrative of the Carte¬
sian philosophy of mind, 61.
 (Sir J. E.), V. 85, n.—historical
sketch of botany by, 74.
 (Sir Sidney), his defence of Acre,
V. 489 ; X. 112; XVI. 759 ; VIII.
490—his negociation with Kleber, 492.
  (Dr Southwood), on disease,
XVII. 495.
  — (Sir Thomas), XX. 413.
  (W.), geological discoveries of,
XV. 185, 188, 204.
Smith’s bellows, IV. 718.
Smithery, or smith’s shop, XX. 419-
in farm-offices, II. 273.
Smiting-Line, XX. 419.
Smits (Edward), on the population of
the Netherlands, XV. 533, 547.
Smoaky Cafe, XX. 419.
Smoke, XX. 419.
Smoke-balloons, II. 182, 183.
Smoke-consuming, XX. 423.
Smoke-silver, XX. 425.
Smolensko, XX. 425—Napoleon’s cap¬
ture of, X. 155—his retreat from, 158.
Smollett (Tobias), XX. 425—character
of his novels, XIX. 338.
Smooth Island, XX. 428.
Smoothness, perception of, XIV. 609.
Smoults, fishes, XII. 208.
Smugglers, XX. 428.
Smuggling encouraged by indirect taxes,
XXI. Ill—causes and prevention of
119—of whisky, VIII. 46.
Smut, a disease of wheat, II. 281.
Smynthurus, insect, IX. 295.
Smyrna, in Asia Minor, XX. 429.
Smyth (Capt. W. H.), on the Neapolitan
coasts, XV. 697, et seq.
Snaffle, XX. 430.
Snails, XV. 357, 373; XVII. 719.
Snaith, in Yorkshire, XX. 430.
Snakes. See Serpents.
Snap-fishing, III. 144, 145.
Snares, islands, XX. 430.
Sneek, in Friesland, XX. 430.
Sneezing, XX. 430.
Snellius (Willebroi’d), X. 429—his mea¬
surement of an arc of the meridian,
I. 502 ; IX. 547—his discovery of the
true law of refraction, I. 511, 631; U-
98 ; XIII. 329 ; XVI. 357—his trea¬
tise on navigation, XV. 74 8.
Sniggling, XX. 431.
Snipe, XVI. 623.
Snipe-shooting, XX. 314.
Snodgrass (Mr), his plan for preventing
hogging of ships, XX. 291.
Snorro, Edda of, VIII. 410.
Snow, XX. 431 ; XVII. 537—exported
from Mount fEtna, II, 200; VIL W
INDEX
143
SNO—SOI
 limit of perpetual, II. 5G0, G08 ;
V. H5—cooling with, VII. 59—red,
X. 758—its effect on the speed of
railway-carriages, XIX. 51.
Snow-drop, tree, XVII. 789.
Snowdon, Welsh mountain, XX. 432 ;
V. 772—geology of, 773—barometri¬
cal measurement of, IV. 400.
Snuff-makers, diseases: of, XIV. 510.
Sny, in skip-building, XX. 288.
Sniders (Francis), XX. 432 ; XVI. 722.
So, king of Egypt, VIII. 466.
Soaghjm, Hindu town, XX. 432.
Soane River, XX. 432.
Soank, Hindu river, XX. 432.
Soap, XX. 432—employed in distillation,
VIII. 51—knowledge of, in ancient
times, 296—manufacture of, in Chili,
VI. 533 ; France, X. 183; Scotland,
XIX. 769.
Soapstone, XV. 148—its use as an un¬
guent of machinery, XIV. 417.
Soar river navigation, XVI. 18.
Sobieski (John), XII. 590; XVIII. 196
—the Turks defeated by, XXI. 413.
Sobriety, a virtue of the Chinese, VI.
587.
Socage, XX. 433.
Soccatoo, II. 237; XI. 709.
Social War, XIX. 393.
Societi, XX. 433 — man formed for,
XIV. 197 ; XV. 473—duties of, 471-
social propensity of brutes, V. 616.
See Caste, Rank.
Societies, XX. 4 34—ad vantages to be de¬
rived from learned, I. 48—statistical,
XX. 569. See Academies.
Society Isles, XX. 434 ; XVIII. 324.
Socinians, XX. 434 ; XII. 564 ; XXI.
449—their opinion of the Holy Spirit,
XXI. 233.
Socinus <LffiIius), XX. 435.
 (Faustds), XX. 4 30.
Sockna, IX. 530.
Socotora, island, XX. 4 35.
Socrates, XX. 435 ; XVIII. 12, 22—
his method of reasoning, I. 17—his
answer to those who maintained that
the superiority of the soul of man to
that of a brute arises from superior
organization, 180—a teacher of virtue
lather than a searcher after truth,
300—Eberhard’s defence of, VIII. 392
—on physiology, XVII. 725.
 of Constantinople, XX. 470.
Socratic school of philosophy, XVII.
431.
Soda, XX. 470 ; VI. 394 — salts of.
445—specific gravity of salts of, XII.
36—poisonous quality of, XIV. 502—
manufacture of, at Newcastle-upon-
Tyne, XVI. 152.
Soda-alum, II. 572, 574.
Sodalite, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Sodder, XX. 471.
Soderah, in Lahore, XX. 470.
Sodium, VI. 394—Davy’s discovery of,
VII. 639—specific gravity of, XII. 3G.
Sodom, XX. 470—apples of, XVI. 745.
Sodor, XX. 470 —bishopric of, XIV.
211.
Soemmering, anatomical works of, II.
828—on the form of the eye, III. 22.
Soest, Prussian city, XX. 471.
Sofala, XX. 471;'ll. 232.
Soffit, XX. 471; III. 470; XII. G09.
Sofia, Turkish city, XX. 471.
Softness, perception of, XIV. 609.
Sogdiana, V. 698.
Soiiacepoob, Hindu town, XX. 471.
Sou am, in Cambridgeshire, XX. 471.
Soiiacl, Hindu town, XX. 471.
Sohnpoor, Hindu town, XX. 471.
Soho, near Birmingham, V. 148.
Soignes, in Belgium, XX. 471.
Soil, XX. 471; XXI. 570—adaptation
of crops to, II. 2G4—its effects on
roots, HI. 89; on plants, XVII. 547
-of gardens, XI. 633, 677—qualities
of timber grown on different soils,
XXI. 292.
Soiling, mode of feeding horses, II, 292.
SOISSONS, in France, XX. 471.
t
S OK—SOM
SOM—SOS
Sokor. Zok, in Armenia, XX. 471.
Solan-goose, XVI. 634 ; III. 168.
Solander (Dr), V. 75, 73; VII. 296—his
botanical labours, V. 84.
SolandeS’s Island, XX. 471.
Solaneie, in botany, V. 123—some kinds
of, poisonous, XIV. 505.
Solanin, VI. 466.
Solano, XVII. 541.
Solar microscopes, XV. 44.
Solarium, in conchology, XV. 347.
Solder, XX. 471.
Soldiers, XX. 472—diet of, VIII. 22-
utility of training to, VIII. 25—dis¬
eases of, XIV. 510, See Army, Re¬
cruiting.
Soldin, Prussian town, XX. 472.
Soldner’s formula representing law of
relation between temperature and
force of steam, XX. 595.
Sole of windows, III. 470.
Soleb, temple of, XVI. 297.
Solecism, in grammar, XX. 472.
Sole-fish, XII. 251.
Solen, in conchology, XV. 341. 372.
Solenostoma, fish, XII. 227.
Soleure, or Solothurn, XX. 474.
Solfa and Solfaing, XX. 472.
Solfatara, Italian lake, XX. 472.
Solfaterra, mountain, XX. 472.
Solicitor, XX. 472—Solicitors in Su¬
preme Courts of Scotland, VIII. 419.
Solid, XX. 472—defined, X. 431, 432-
geometry of, 457.
Solidad, XIV. 264.
Solidity, XX. 472; XVII. 798—what,
and how perceived, XIV. 609—a ne¬
cessary quality of matter, 645.
Solidungula, in zoology, XIV. 151—
their bones, III. 4, et se<?.—muscles,
19—organs of smell, 21—ears, 25—
organs of voice, 28—nervous system,
31—teeth, 33—length of their intes
tines, 37.
Soliloquy, XX. 472.
Soliman. See Solyman.
Solingen, Prussian town, XX. 472.
Solinus on the Hebrides, XI. 202.
Solipeda, structure of, XVII. 707.
Solis (Antonio de), XX. 472.
Solitaries, XX. 473.
Solitary Island, XX. 473.
Solitary Islands, XX. 473.
Soller, in Majorca, XX. 473.
Solo, XX. 473.
Solofra, Italian city, XX. 473.
Solombo (Great), island, XX. 473.
Solomon, XX. 473 ; XII. 568; XVI. 750
—Proverbs of, II. 360; XVIII. 665
aqueduct of, III. 317—temple of, 413;
XXI. 178—Song of, VI. 100.
Solomon’s Islands, XX. 473; IV. 213.
Solon, XX. 473—Ids government, IV.
144—code, 145—travels, 146—legisla¬
tion, 165—calendar, VI. 7—conver¬
sation with Croesus, VII. 474.
Soloon, island, XX. 474.
Solor Isle, XX. 474.
Solothurn, XX. 474. «
Solotonoscha, XX. 474.
Solstice, in astronomy, XX. 474.
Solyman II., the Magnificent, XX. 472;
XVIII. 466; XXI. 412, 413.
SOLYMANIA, XX. 474.
Solway Firth, VIII. 261—manufacture
of salt on its shores, VII. 511, n. 1.
 Moss, battle of, XIX. 729.
Somalpet, Hindu town, XX. 4 74.
Somateria, bird, XVI. 637.
Sombor, XX. 474 ; XXI. 989.
Somers (John Lord), XX. 474.
 (Sir George), IV. 587.
Somers’s Islands. See Bermudas.
Somerset (Lord Charles), V. 562.
 (Edward), Marquis of Worces¬
ter, XXI. 941—his invention of the
steam-engine, XX. 615—his Century
of Inventions, ib.—his quintessence
of motion, 686.
 House, London, XIII. 544.
Somersetshire, XX. 474—fisheries of,
IX. 604—Coal canal, XVI. 18.
Someuton, XX. 476.
Somerville (Lord), plough improved by,
II. 266—his efforts to improve breeds
of sheep, 336.
  (Mrs), IX. 638—on tho solar
rays, XIII. 696 ; XVI. 421,422.
Sommerville’s safety-gun, XI. 39.
   Chase, XI. 740.
Somme, in France, XX. 476—canal of
the, XVI. 6.
Sommeany, Persian town, XX. 476.
Sommee, Hindu town, XX. 476.
Somnambulism, XX. 476 ; XVII. 459,
681; VIII. 186.
Somner (William), XX. 478.
Sohpre, Hindu town, XX. 478.
Somus, Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Sonata, XX. 478.
Sonatina, in music, XX. 478.
Sonderhausen, XX. 478.
Sondre Grund, island, XX. 478.
Sondrio, in Lombardy, XX. 478.
Sonehut, Hindu town, XX. 478.
Sonepour, Hindu town, XX. 478.
Song, XX. 478. See Singing.
Songhur, Hindu town, XX. 478.
Songi, river, XX. 478.
Songkiang, Chinese city, XX. 478.
Song-Men-Chan, island', XX. 478. j
Songoa, island, XX. 478.
Sonnerat, his Voyage to New Guinea,
IV. 211—on birds, XVI. 549.
Sonora and Sinaloa, XIV. 818.
Soolimas, African tribe, XII. 759.
Sooloo Isles, XX. 478.
Soonda, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soondia, Hindu town, XX. 479
Soonel, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soonergong, in Bengal, XX. 479.
Soongur, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soonput, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soontaburdar, XX. 479.
Soopoor, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soora Goy, XXL 255.
Soorootoo Isle, XX. 479.
Sooropoor, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soory, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soosneer, Hindu town, XX. 479.
Soosoo, in Sumatra, XX. 479.
 , an animal, XIV. 172.
Soosoos, land of the, XX. 94.
Soosoohoonan, in Java, XX. 479.
Soot, XX. 480—its use as a manure,
II. 305—as a dye-stuff, VIII. 332.
Sooty, Bengalese town, XX. 480.
Sophi, Persian title, XX. 480.
Sophis, or Sofees, XX. 480.
Sophism, in logic, XX. 480.
Sophist, XX. 480,449,450,457; XVIII.
21, 36.
| Sophocles, Greek dramatist, XX. 480—
tragedies of, VIII. 148.
Sophonisba, XIV. 276.
Sophora Japonica, XVII. 787.
I Soping, in Celebes, XX. 481.
j Sopra, Hindu river, XX. 481.
j Sora, Italian city, XX. 481.
: Sorauus, Ephesian anatomist, II. 691.
Sorau, in Prussia, XX. 481.
; Sorbonne, XX. 481; XVII. 77.
Sorcerer-fish, XII. 174.
] Sorcery, XX. 481—Malebranche on, I.
75. See Magic.
! Sordawalite, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
i Sorcdia, in botany, V. 57.
Sorex, in zoology, XIV. 102.
1 Soria, in Spain, XX. 481.
Soriang, river in Celebes, XX. 481.
Sorites, in logic, XX. 481 ; XIII.
452.
Sorocaba, XVII. 161.
Soroe, island, XIII. 112.
Sorosus, in botany, V. 50.
Sorrel, XI. 675,
Sorrento, Italian city, XX. 482.
Sortilege, XX. 482; V. 315.
Sorting, in Sicily, XX. 482.
Sortinskoi, in Russia, XX. 482.
Sorus, in botany, V. 54.
Sosigenes, bis improvement of the ca¬
lendar, VI. 5.
Sosistratus, VI. 187.
| Sosva, Russian rivers, XX. 482.
I Sosteria, sacrifices, XX. 482.
SOT—SOU
Sothic period, VI. 658.
Soto (Dominic), the first writer who pub¬
licly condemned the African slave-
trade, I. 314.
Souchong-tea, XXI. 131.
Soudah Mountains, IX. 530.
Soudan, African kingdom, XX. 482-
II. 222, 237 ; XVI. 224.
Souerick, Armenian town, XX. 482.
Sough, in mining, XX. 482.
Souhoud, Wahabi chief, VIII. 501.
Soui-Tcheou, Chinese city, XX. 482.
Souimanga, bird, XVI. 589.
Soul, XX. 482 — nature and essence
of, I. 57 ; III. 159, 163; XVII. 559-
presumption of its immortality from
analogy of laws of nature, I. 58—Leib¬
nitz on the, 128, 259—argument of
Addison for immortality of, 162 —
futility of the attempts to assimilate
to each other the faculties of men
and those of brutes, 179-81—ancient
opinions as to nature of, III. 294—
Aristotle on, 506—Athenian specu¬
lations concerning, IV. 163 — Have
brutes souls? V. 613 — immortality
and immateriality of, VI. 729—im¬
mortality of, XIV. 684 ; XV. 487 ;
XXI. 213—motive to virtue from im¬
mortality of, XV. 487—Plato’s notions
of, XVIII. 34—pre-existence of, 517.
See Immortality, Mind, Spirit.
Soult (General), his Spanish campaigns,
V. 525, et seq.
Sound, XX. 482 —nature of, II. ion
— propagation of, 110 ; XII. 120 ;
XVIII. 119—its velocity through dif¬
ferent solid bodies, II. 113; through
different gases, 116—musical, 119,120
—grave and acute, 121—beauty of,
IV. 500—Lagrange on, XIII. 13. See
Acoustics, Echo, Music, Trumpet.
  . in geography, XX. 486; IV.
324 — dues paid by English vessels
passing the, VII. 721.
Sound-Board, XX. 486.
Sounding at sea, XX. 486.
Sour. See Tyre.
Sour Krout, IX. 734.
Sour substances. See Acids.
Sourabaya, town in Java, XX. 49 7.
Sourera, Hindu town, XX. 487.
Sourgotte, XX. 487.
Sousa (M. A. de), V. 188.
 (Pero Lopes de), V. 189.
 (Thome de), V. 190.
Soutcheoufou, XX. 487.
Souterasi, III. 319.
South, XX. 487.
 '(Sir James), his telescope, IV.
103—his transit-instrument, 104 —
his equatorial instrument, 108.
 (Robert), divine, XX. 487.
South Cape, XX. 488.
South-East Islands, XX. 488.
South Island, XX. 488.
South of India, XX. 488.
South Sea, XX. 488. See Pacific Ocean.
South Sea Bubble, IV. 448 ; V. 377 ;
VII. 184 ; XVIII. 401.
South Sea Company, VII. 183.
South Sea Islands, poultry in, XVI. 610
-—heights of mountains, XVII. 505—
volcanoes, 514. See Polynesia.
South-West Cape, XX. 488.
South-West Isles, XX. 488.
Southam, in Warwick, XX. 488.
Southampton, XX. 488; XI. 129—bat¬
tle of, VIII. 735—Southampton and
Salisbury canal, XVI. IS.
Southend, in Essex, XX. 488,
Southern (John),his experiments on the
elastic force of steam, XX. 582—his
formula representing law of relation
between temperature and force of
steam, 595—on latent heat, 601.
Southerne (Thomas), XX. 488—dra¬
matic works of, VIII. 174.
Southsea, in Hampshire, XVIII. 459.
South-Moulton, in Devon, XX. 489.
Southwark, XX. 489—Bridge, V. 280;
XIII. 512; XIX. 121.
Southwell, XX. 489.
144
INDEX,
SOU—SPA
Soothwold, XX. 489—naval battle with
the Dutch in bay of, V. 347.
Sovereign, XX. 489—power, ib.
Sow. See Swine.
Sovverby (Mr), his botanical plates, V.
86—on conchology, XV. 344, 376.
Sozomenus (Hermias), XX. 489.
Spa, in Belgium, XX. 489.
Spacaforno, XX. 489 ; XV. 702.
Space, XIV. 654, 667—modes of, ib.—
Clarke’s, Leibnitz’s,and D’Alembert’s
views regarding the nature of, I. 142
—Kant’s notions respecting, 195, 280
—phrenological faculty of, XVII. 464.
Spadix, in botany, V. 40.
Spafields riots, V. 546.
Spagiric Art, XX. 489.
Spahis, XX. 489.
Spain, XX. 490—history of, ib ; XI.
483—statistics, XX. 514 5 IX. 419—
writers on ethics, I. 314—Academies
of the Moors, II. 67—Academies of
Painting and. History at Madrid, 7 4,
75—Royal Spanish Academy, 77—
wars with the Algerines, 504—wars
with the Almoravides, 536—Ameri¬
can colonies, 637—West India colo¬
nies, 648—pointed and Moorish ar¬
chitecture, III. 423—influence of the
Italian school on architecture, 427—
army, 601—painters, 650 ; XVI. 722
—Bibles, III. 617—botanists, V. 82-
relations to Britain in the reign of
James the First, 307, 308—Gibraltar
taken by the British, 369—War of the
Succession, ib.; IV. 220 ; XVI. 121—
quadruple alliance,V. 376—wars with
Britain, ib., 377, 379, 386, 480, 519 ;
XXI. 728—war with Portugal in 1762,
V. 386—disputes with Britain about
Falkland Islands, 391; and Nootka
Sound, 457—Peninsular war, 524—
negociations with Britain in 1823,
558—conquests of the Carthaginians,
VI. 184, 195—Casiri’s catalogue of
Arabic MSS. in, 214—cultivation of
chemistry by the Moors, 343—influ¬
ence of chivalry in, 595—era of, 660
—unsound policy pursued as to the
precious metals, VII. 123—colonies,
126—miserable colonial system, XIV.
778 ; II. 637 ; XVIII. 2—not a flou¬
rishing country in the middle ages,
VII. 153—corn-trade, 363—condition
at the time of the Crusades, 490—
war with England in reign of Eliza¬
beth, VIII. 757—Armada, ib.; XX.
221, 502—trade with England, VIII.
779—drama, 155, 156—insects, IX.
99 — sieges of towns by the Bri¬
tish, 776, 778, n.—French invasions,
X. 94, 149—French trade, 189—gun-
barrels, XI. 36—the Inquisition, XII.
286—rate of interest, 327—treat¬
ment of the Jews, 580 — language,
XIII. 88—libraries, 307—variation of
the needle, 734, 736—ancient mines,
XV. 243—present mines, 250, et se#.
—history of money, 400—coins, 408,
411—mortality, 521—inland naviga¬
tion, XVI. 7, 738—newspapers, 173
—rtable-land of central Spain, XVII.
502—height of mountains, 50 6—solano
wind, 541—poetry, XVIII. 161; X.
316—the Reformation, XIX. 95—re¬
ligion, 316—romance, 330, 350—Ro¬
man conquests, 388—sculpture, XX.
10—slave-trade, 385-6—effect of heavy
taxes, XXI. 96, 121—computation of
tonnage of ships, 329—weights and
measures, 855, 847 — inferiority of
wines, 897—wool exported to Britain,
923, 924—map of, XX. PI. 463 and
464. See Spaniards, Spanish.
 (New), increase of population of,
XVIII. 410.
Spaitla, temple at, IV. 363.
Spalanx, in zoology, XIV. 137.
Spalat.ro, XX. 523—palace of Diocle¬
tian at, III. 444 . II. 138.
Spalding, in Lincolnshire, XX. 523.
Spalding’s improvement of the diving-
bell, VIII. 66.
SPA—SPE
Spallanzani (Lazzaro), XX. 523.
Spalmadori, island, XX. 525.
Span, measure, XX. 525.
Spandad, Prussian town, XX. 525.
Spandrell, XX. 525 ; III. 470.
Spanheim (Ezekiel), XX. 525.
Spaniards, their cruelties in America,
II. 108, 638, 639 ; VIII. 686—their
beards, IV. 473—annoyed by the bu-
caneers, V. 620—their invasion of
Chili, VI. 539 ; of Ireland, XII. 364,
366—wars in the Netherlands, XI.
510; XVl. 106—conquest of Mexico,
VII. 378 ; XIV. 766—revolt of Mex¬
ico, 781—treatment of the Haitians,
XVI. 681—conquest of Peru, XVII.
295 ; of La Plata, XVIII. 1; of Por¬
tugal, 468—their character, XX. 522.
See Spain.
Spaniel, XX. 311.
Spanish pointer, XX. 310.
 sword, III. 592.
 Town, Jamaica, XII. 501.
 wax, XXI. 821.
Spar, XX. 525 ; XV. 149—crystalliza¬
tion of, VIII. 512, et seq.—specific
gravity of, XII. 36—Derbyshire spar,
VII. 735—Iceland spar; see Iceland.
Sparedrus, insect, IX. 167.
Sparidae, in fishes, XII. 176.
Spark, electric, VIII. 582.
Sparmann on birds, XVI. 549.
Sparring, XI. 96.
Sparrow, hedge, XVI. 576—house, 580.
Sparta, or Lacedaemon, XX. 525 ;
XIII. 7, 8—army of, III. 585—wars
with Athens, IV. 153, et seq.—danc¬
ing in, VII. 614—theft allowed in,
XV. 458—wars with Thebes, XXI.
195-9.
Spartacus, insurrection of, XIX. 394.
Spar’tianos (jEiius), XX. 531.
Spartivento, cape, XV. 699.
Spasm, XVII. 132.
Spatangidas, zoophytes, XXI. 1008.
Spatha, in botany. III. 96 ; V. 40.
Spathellse, in botany, V. 40.
Spavin, XXI. 616, 617.
Spaying, II. 319, 326 ; IX. 721.
Speakers of the British Houses of Par¬
liament, XVII. 89.
Speaking-trumpet, II. 118; XXI. 390.
Spearman (Major), his reform of the
British artillery. III. 633.
Speciale (Nicholas), on an eruption of
jEtna, II. 204.
Species, yi logic, XX. 531; XIII. 447.
 of animals, III. 161 ; XVII. 549,
554, 585—What constitutes a distinct
one ? II. 135—difference of, producible
only by original creation, III. 160,
161—the production of fertile pro¬
geny not a certain test of the iden¬
tity of species of the parents, ib.—
number of, XVII. 549.
 , in algebra, XX. 531.
 , in botany, V. 59, 61, 63.
 , in optics, XX. 531.
Specific, in philosophy, XX. 531.
Specifics, in medicine, XX. 531; XIV.
524.
Specific Gravity, XX. 531 ; X. 717 ;
XII. 19—Table of, 26—Archimedes’s
knowledge of the doctrine of, III.
404—hydrostatic balance for deter¬
mining, IV. 307—of a mixture of air
and vapour, XII. 131—of woods,
XIV. 403—important in mineralogy,
XV. 126—of sea-water in different
latitudes, XVII. 519—of steam, XX.
602.
Speeodes, insects, IX. 232.
Spectacles, XX. 531—invention of, I.
508 ; XVI. 351—mentioned by Roger
Bacon, XIII. 329—snow-spectacles,
XV. 53—Mr Airy’s cylindrical spec¬
tacles, XVI. 393.
Spectra, in optics, XX. 531 ; XVII.
672.
Spectre, or apparition, XX.« 531 ; III.
294 ; XVII. 674.
Spectre-bat, XIV. 100.
Spectrum, prismatic, VI. 633 ; XIII.
SPE—SPI
331; XVI. 403—no action of light
beyond the limit of the, VI. 757.
Spectrum, insect, IX. 191.
Speculation in trade, profits of, VII. 168
—pernicious effects of, ib.
Speculative, XX. 531.
Speculum, XVI. 378 ; XX. 822, n.
Spedding (Mr), VII. 537.
Speech, a characteristic of man, II. 709.
See Language.
Speed (John), historian, XX. 531.
Speedy-cut, XXI. 620.
Speidell (J.), on logarithms, XIII. 418.
Speldhurst, in Kent, XX. 531.
Spelling, in grammar, XX. 532.
Spelman (Sir Henry), XX. 532.
Spence (Joseph), XX. 532.
  on entomology, IX. 84, et seq.
See Kirby and Spence.
Spencer (John), English theologian,
XX. 533—on baptism, IV. 352.
 (Earl), library of, XIII. 300.
 (Thomas), on the art of multi¬
plying works of art in metal by vol¬
taic electricity, XXL 682.
 Cape, XX. 533.
Spencer’s Gulf, XX. 533.
Spendius, VI. 194.
Spenser (Edmund), XX. 533—merits of
his poetry, X. 169.
Spermaceti, XX. 535—specific gravity
of, XII. 36.
Spermaceti-whale, XIV. 183—amber¬
gris found in the, II. 593.
Spermatic chord, II. 824.
Spermatozoa, XXL 992.
Spermoderm, in botany, V. 50.
Speusippus, XX. 535.
Spey, river, XX. 535 ; XV. 491.
Speyer, XX. 547.
Spezzia, island, X. 730.
Sphacelus, XVII. 128.
Sphacteria, IV. 157.
Sphseridium, insect, IX. 151.
Sphaerium, in conchology, XV. 341.
Sphseroderus, insect, IX. 130.
Sphserodiata, insects, IX. 151.
Sphserotus, insect, IX. 166.
Sphagebranchus, fish, XII. 225.
Sphegides, insects, IX. 229.
Sphegina, insect, IX. 273.
Sphene, in mineralogy, XV. 160—pyro¬
electricity of, VIII. 598.
Spheniscus, bird, XVI. 631.
 , insect, IX. 166.
Sphenoid bone, in man, II. 772—in the
mammalia, III. 4—in birds, 12.
Sphere, XX. 535—in geometry, X. 465
—how to develope, XII. 609—mensu¬
ration of, XIV. 574 — refraction of
rays by, X VI. 390—projection of the,
X. 413; XVIII. 656—celestial, III.
754—terrestrial, X. 403—attraction
of spheres, IV. 177.
Spherical trigonometry, XXI. 377.
Spheriodactyli, reptiles, XIX. 147.
Spheroid, XX. 535—definition and pro¬
perties of elliptical, IV. 175—attrac¬
tion of spheroids of revolution, 179—
mensuration of, XIV. 576.
Sphex, insect, IX. 229.
Sphincter, XX. 535 ; XVII. 610.
Sphingides, insects, IX. 243.
Sphinx, fabled monster, XX. 535.
 , of Egypt, XX. 535 ; VIII. 549,
558.
 , insect, IX. 243 ; IV. 533.
Sphyrsena, fish, XII. 171.
Spice, XX. 535. See Condiments.
Spiders, III. 353—their power of absti¬
nence, 167—means of destroying, XII.
293—colours of webs of, XVI. 450.
Spies in Vienna, XXI. 645.
Spigeliese, in botany, V. 120.
Spigelius (Adrian), on anatomy, II. 698.
Spike, in botany, V. 40.
Spikelet, in botany, V. 40.
Spilbergen, his visit to the Ladrone
Islands, XVIII. 316.
Spilsby, in Lincolnshire, XX. 535.
Spinach, culture of, XI. 672.
Spinal cord, in man, II. 810 ; XIV. 583;
XVII. 660, 673—in brutes, III. 30.
SPI—SPO
Spinal system, XIV. 583.
Spinax, fish, XII. 233.
Spindle, XX, 536.
Spindle-tree, XVII. 787.
Spine (human), bones of, II. 759—canal
of, 763—motions of, ib. — structure
and functions of, XVII. 614.
  of brutes, XVII. 701, et seq.-,
III. 2. See Spinal Cord.
 , in botany, V. 33.
Spinel, XV. 155—ruby-lenses, 31.
Spinet, or Spinnet, XX. 536.
Spinning, XX. 536—of silk, 347_0f
wool, XXI. 932. See Cotton-manu¬
facture, Silk-manufacture, &c.
Spinning-frame, Arkwright’s, III. 568;
VII. 400.
Spinning-jenny, VII. 39 ; XXI. 932.
Spinola, XVI. 116.
Spinoza (Benedict), XX. 546 ; VII. 205
—origin of, I. 144—Fontenelle’s opi¬
nion of his system of philosophy, 145
—his doctrines, in their practical ten¬
dency, tjie same as atheism, ib.—points
on which he has been misunderstood,
ib.—coincidence of his principles of
government with those of Hobbes, 146
—tendency of his speculations to de¬
grade human nature, ib.—his private
life and character, 264.
Spio, worm, XI. 220.
Spira (Francis), XIX. 779, note.
 (John de), printer, XVIII. 518.
Spiracles of insects, XVII. 721.
Spireeese, in botany, V. 107.
Spiral, in geometry, XX. 547.
Spiral vessels ot plants, III. 45—their
structure and transformations, 46,
47—in roots, 88.
Spire, Bavarian city, XX. 547—Diet of,
XIX. 89.
 , in architecture, XX. 547 ; III.
423, 455, 470—Gothic, 388.
Spirit, in metaphysics, XX. 547; XVII.
559—ancient opinions respecting, III.
294. See Daemon, Soul.
  (Holy), in theology, XI. 535 ;
XXI. 232 ; IV. 675.
Spirits, in chemistry, XX. 547; VI. 437
—effects of excessive indulgence in,
VIII. 24—consumption of, in Eng¬
land, VIII. 778—imports of, into the
United Kingdom, 784—French, X.
183—distillation of, from potatoes.
XVI. 267—Scotch manufacture of,
XIX. 769—effects of the increase and
reduction of the duties on, XXL 121,
122—Irish spirit-trade, XII. 405, 423.
See Alcohol, Distillation.
Spiritusasperetlenis,II. 547; XVII. 505.
Spirketing, in ship-building, XX. 284.
Spirlin, fish, XII. 210.
Spirobranchus, fish, XII. 190.
Spirolina, mollusca, XV. 345.
Spiroptera, zoophytes, XXI. 998.
Spirorbis, worm, XI. 218.
Spirula, mollusca, XV. 345, 352.
Spitalfields, distress.among the weavers
of, in 1764, V. 390.
Spithead, XVIII. 461.
Spittal, XI. 692.
Spittle. See Saliva.
Spitzbergen, XVIII. 215, etseq.
Spix (Dr), on San Paulo, XVII. 15S,d
seq.—referred to, II. 609, et seq.
Splanchic nerve, II. 813.
Spleen, erectile tissue of the, II, 726—
anatomy and function of, 817 ; XVII.
632—diseases of, 478, 482 ; in the
domestic animals, XXI. 628.
Splicing, in sea-language, XX. 547.
Splint, XXI. 616.
Splint-coal, VI. 444.
Splugen, XX. 547—the French army’s
passage of the, XV. 729.
Spodumene, XV. 150—sp. gr. of, XII. 36-
Spohn on hieroglyphics, XI. 359—his
division of archoeology, XII. 220.
Spoils, XX. 547.
Spolank, in Java, XX. 547.
Spoleto, in Italy, XX. 547.
Spondee, in poetry, XX. 547.
Spondia tuberosa, tree, XVII. 731.
INDEX,
145
SPO—STA
Spondiacese, in botany, Y. IOC.
Spondylis, insect, IX. 178.
Spondylus, in conchology, XV. 342.
Spongia, or sponges, XX. 547 ; XXI.
1023—use of, in diving, VIII. 61.
Spongioles, III. 55, 89.
Sponsors, XX. 547.
Spontaneous, XX. 547.
Spoon-bill, bird, XVI. G20.
Spooning, XX. 547.
Sporades, in astronomy, XX. 547.
Sporadic Diseases, XX. 548.
Sports, old English, XVII. 112. See
Amusement.
Sporules, in botany, V. 53.
Spotswood (John), XX. 548.
Spout-fish, XV. 372.
Sprains, in oattle, XXI. 617.
Sprat (Thomas), XX. 548 — his esti¬
mate of Bacon’s genius, I. 241.
 , fish, XII. 215.
Sprat of the sea, XX. 548.
Sprengel (Prof.), on disease, XVII. 123.
Spring, in mechanics, XX. 551—of
clocks and watches, VI. 769, 786, 787
—of coaches, VII. 6.
 , season, XX. 551—the young of
most animals produced in, III. 169—
beauty of, IV. 491.
Springs, XX. 548; XVII. 527 — im¬
pregnations of, ib. — mineral, ib.—
thermal, 528 — intermittent, 529 ;
XVIII. 130—boiling springs in Ice¬
land, XII. 146—temperature of, XV.
177—uniformity of temperature, VI.
746. See Mineral Waters.
Spring-steelyard, XXL 838.
Spring-tide, XXL 259.
Springfield, Massachusetts, XIV. 305.
Springbok, African animal, II. 228
Sprit of a vessel, XX. 551.
Spur, XI. 621.
Spur-wing, bird, XVI. 636.
Spurry, culture of, II. 295.
Spurzheim (John Gaspar), XX. 551—
on phrenology, XVII. 456.
Spy, XX. 55 2—spies in Vienna, XXI. 64 5.
Spyne, or Spynace, XX. 218.
Squadron, XX. 552.
Squads, XX. 552.
Squall, XX. 552.
Squalus, fish, XII. 231.
Squamipennes, fishes, XII. 178.
Squamous suture, II. 782.
Square, instrument, XX. 552.
, X. 433—perspective of, XVII.
276, et seq. — method of the least
squares, XVIII.636—naval, XXI.759.
Square-rigged ship, XX. 552.
Square Root, extraction of the, III. 566.
Square Sail, XX. 552.
Squaring of the circle, XX. 552.
Squatarola, bird, XVI. 617.
Squatina, fish, XII. 234.
Squinting, origin of, XVI. 511.
Squire, in chivalry, VI. 603.
Squirrel, XIV. 130.
Sravana Balguta, XX. 555.
Sri Muttra, XX. 555.
Sri Permatura, XX. 556.
Stabat Mater, XX. 556.
Stable, XI. 597, 603—stables of farms,
II. 2 71—stable-management of horses,
320.
Stabroek, VII. 704.
^tackhousiem, in botany, V. 105.
Stacks of corn, II. 281; of hay, 292.
Stade, in Hanover, XX. 556.
Stadium, Greek measure, XX. 556.
.an edifice in ancient Athens, ac¬
count of, IV.' 125.
Stadtholder, XX. 556.
5tael (Madame de), on the literary life
of Voltaire, and the French philoso-
Pny of the 18th century, I. 277—on
Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, 190
mistakes of, respecting the philo¬
sophy of Locke and Leibnitz, ib.—
on Fichte’s system of philosophy re-
ative to the pronoun I, 200—her ha¬
tred of Napoleon, XV.725, n. 1—cha-
racter of her novels, XIX. 355.
>taff, XX. 556.
STA
Stafpa, island, XX. 556; XIX. 749—
visited by Sir Joseph Banks, IV. 349.
Stafford, English town, XX. 557.
 (Edward), Duke of Buckingham
VIII. 743.
Staffordshire, XX. 557—potteries of,
'V III. 779 ; XVIII. 500—iron-making
in, XII. 431; XX. 408—Worcester¬
shire canal, XVI. 18.
Stag, XIV. 160.
Stag-hound, XI. 699, 706.
Stag-hunting, XI. 746.
Stage, in theatres, XX. 559.
Stage-coaches, VII. 6.
Stageirus, or Stageira, Aristotle’s birth¬
place, III, 490.
Stahl (George Ernest), XX. 559—on
chemistry, VI. 348—doctrines of,
XIV. 580—on physiology, XVII. 728
Staigue Fort, in Kerry, XII. 704.
Staindrop, in Durham, XX. 560.
Staines, in Middlesex, XX. 560.
Stainforth and Keadby Canal, XVI. 19
Stainville (M. de), IV. 416.
Stair (Lord). See Dalrymple (James.)
Staircase, in architecture, XX. 560.
Stairs, in architecture, III. 463—build
ing of, V. 676—measurement of, 691
—construction of wooden, XII. fill-
masonry of, XIV. 300 —perspective
of, XVII. 282.
Staking of horses, XXI. 628.
Staktometer, Brewster’s, XII. 25.
Stalactites, XX. 560—do not grow
like plants, III, 156—specific gravity
of, XII. 36.
Stalbridge, XX. 560.
Stale, in sportsmanship, XX. 560.
Stalk of plants. III. 81.
Stall-feeding of cattle, II. 327.
Stallions, II. 318.
Stamford, m Lincolnshire, XX. 560.
Stamfordbridge, battle of, VIII. 708.
Stamina, XX. 560—in botany, ib.; III.
95, 97; V. 39, 43.
Stamp-duties, XXI. 116.
Stamp-Office, Edinburgh, VIII. 420.
Stampers, wipers of, XIV. 424.
Stamphalia, island, XX. 560.
Stamping of coins, VII. 5i.
Stanchions of a ship, XX. 560.
Standard of value, XV. 385—of money,
395—bad effects of its reduction, 401.
Scales used in the trigonometri¬
cal survey, XXI. 360.
   Weights and Measures, XXI.
841, 843.
 , battle of the, XIX. 706.
 , in ship-building, XX. 284.
Standing, muscles employed in, II. 796
—act of, XVII. 616.
Standon, in Hertfordshire, XX. 560.
Standra, Turkish village, XX. 560
Stanhope (Charles), Earl Stanhope,
XX. 561—his printing-press, XIV.
447; XVIII. 559.
 (George), divine, XX. 561.
 (Philip Dormer), Earl of Ches
terfield, XX. 560—his character of
Marlborough, VI. 688—his govern¬
ment of Ireland, XII. 381.
Stanislas Leckzinski, king of Poland,
XX. 561; XXL 22, 23.
Stanislawow, XX. 562.
Stanley (Sir John), his account of the
great Geyser, XII. 146.
(Thomas), XX. 562.
STA—STE
lax, distance, magnitude, and number
of, IV. 43—motions of, 44—cata¬
logues of, 42, 95 ; VI. 238—variable
and double stars, nebula;, and the
Milky Way, IV. 46.
Stars do not affect the weather, XIV.
717—manner of taking altitude of,
XV. 777,778—spurious discs of, XVI.
446—fixed lines in star-light, 419—
falling stars, XX. 563; VIII. 623;
IX. 587—shot-stars, XVI. 277.
■,infortification,XX. 563; IX. 785.
Star-Board, XX. 563
Star-Chamber, XX. 563; V. 315, 319.
Star-fish, XXI. 1008.
Star-forts, IX. 785; XX. 563.
Star-Shot, XX. 563; XVI. 277.
Staraja-Russa, XX. 563.
Starch, XX. 563; XXL 568—a con¬
stituent of flour, IV. 297—descrip¬
tion and qualities of, 298—sugar of,
VI. 473 ; VIII. 44—chemical charac¬
ter of, VI. 475—-common, ib.—hor-
dein, 476—iuulin, ib.—lichen starch,
ib.—amylin, 477—nutritive properties
of, VIII. 19.
Starching of cotton cloth by bleachers,
IV. 687.
Stargard, Prussian city, XX. 564.
Staritza, Russian town, XX. 564.
Stark (William), M.D., XX. 564—his
experiments on digestion, VIII. 21,22.
Starkenburg, XX. 564 ; XL 287.
Starling, bird, XVI. 583.
Starlings of bridges, XX. 564.
Starvation, power of different animals
to support, III. 167—effects of, VIII.
22—death from, XIV. 498. See Fast.
Staten Island, XVII. 117.
States, or Estates, XX. 564.
States-General, convocation of, X. 44.
Statical balance, IV. 388.
Statics, XX. 564—principles of, I. 605.
Stationary, in astronomy, XX. 566
Stationers’ Company, VIL 313—their
almanacs, II. 532.
 Hall, London, XIII. 535.
Statistics, XX. 566—medical, XIV.
STE
Stannaries, XX. 563
Stannary Courts, XX. 563.
Stanovoi Mountains, XX. 563.
Stanstead, in Herts, XX. 563.
Stanstead-Mountfitchet, XX. 563.
Stanza, in poetry, XX. 563.
Stapalensis (J. F.),his French New Tes¬
tament, IV. 617.
Staphyleas, in botany, V. 105.
Staphylinus, insect, IX. 137.
Staple, XX. 563.
Staple Inn, Chancery, XII. 282.
Star, in astronomy, XX. 563.
Stars (fixed), IV. 41 ; III. 756—accele¬
ration of, II. 83—twinkling of, III.
763—arrangement of, IV. 41—paral-
522—distinct from political economy,
XVIII. 272—of Britain, France, &c.;
see Britain, &c.
Statius (Publius), XX. 569; VIII. 152.
Statuary, XX. 569. See Sculpture.
Statues, XX. 569—Greek, III. 645—
gigantic figures erected by the Egyp¬
tians and Babylonians, VIL 696 —
measurement of ancient, VIII. 182.
See Sculpture; and PI. 194 to 198.
Statue-worship, XVIII. 333.
Stature, human, II. 630, 757 ; XIV. 207
—of the Patagonians, II. 630; XIV.
202; XVII. 118.
Statute-labour in Scotland, XXI. 100.
Statutes defectively framed in England,
XIII. 169. See Acts of Parliament.
Staunton (Sir George), VI. 569—on Chi¬
nese porcelain, XVIII. 432—on Chi¬
nese rice, XIX. 234.
Staurotide, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Staves of casks, VIL 305.
Steam, XX. 570 ; XI. 190—general
considerations regarding properties,
phenomena, and applications of, XX.
570—experimental researches con¬
cerning its elastic force at different
temperatures, 577—on the mathema¬
tical law which connects its elastic
force with its temperature, 592—on
its constitutional caloric, density,
and volume at different temperatures,
and generation and condensation, 600
—application of our knowledge of its
properties, phenomena, and laws, to
practical and economical purposes,
604—heating of hot-houses by, XI.
653—its nature still obscure, XIX.
43—its use in the consumption of
smoke, XX. 424. See Boiling, Eva¬
poration.
Steam-Engine, XX. 610—historical de¬
scription, 611 ; X. 554 ; XIV. 351—
era of the ancients, XX. 611—era
of the Marquis of Worcester, 615—
era of Watt, 632 ; XXL 816—descrip¬
tion of the modern steam-engine, XX.
642—high-pressure, 643—rotatory,
663—boilers of, 671—marine, 693—
boring of cylinders of, V. 4—wooden
beams of, VI. 170—congelation might
be connected with the, VII. 65 its
slow application to cotton-spinning,
404—French manufacture of, X. 182
—governor of, XIV. 419—power of,
438—locomotive, XIX. 41,56—appli¬
cation of steam in high and low pres¬
sure engines, XX. 577—benefits to
society from the, XXI. 819—descrip¬
tion of the plates, XX. 707.
Steam-loom, or power-loom, VIL 409 •
X. 558; XXL 830, 933.
Steam-Navigation, XX. 686—history
of, X. 549—its benefits to Britain,
VII. 414—Jonathan Hulls’ patent in
1735, VIII. 197—French, X. 200—
Scotch, XIX. 768 ; X. 549—advan¬
tages of, XX. 54—in war, 59—pro¬
portion of power to tonnage of steam¬
ships, 699—their proportions, form,
and mechanical structure, 701—mode
of ascertaining their tonnage, XXI.
327—of the United States, 465, 469
—explosions, 470.
Stearic acid, VI. 430.
Stearine, VI. 442—a component of fat,
II. 716.
Steatite, or soapstone, XV. 148—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 36—used as an
unguent of machinery, XIV. 417.
Steatornis, bird, XVI, 579.
Steel, XX. 711—annealing of, III. 196
composition and manufacture of, VI.
404—engraving on, IX. 54—specific
gravity of, XII. 36—process of cut¬
ting it with soft iron, XIV. 457—co¬
hesion of, XX. 757—polarity of steel
balances in watches, VI. 800. See
Cutlery, Bluing.
Steele (Sir Richard), XX. 713—his
connexion with Addison, II. 145, 14G
—his quarrel with Swift, XXI. 37.
Steelyard, IV. 306 ; XIV. 358—history
of the, XXL 835.
Steeple, in architecture. III. 470.
Steeple-chace racing, XI. 625.
Steerage of a ship, XX. 715.
Steering. See Seamanship.
Steevens (George), XX. 715—on the
popularity of Shakspeare, 170.
Stegana, insect, IX. 290.
Steganography, XX. 715.
Stein-bock, in zoology, XIV. 164.
Stele, in architecture, III. 470.
Stelis, insect, IX. 234.
Stella, XXL 35, 38.
Steller, in zoology, XIV. 172.
Stellerides, zoophytes, XXI. 1008.
Stellerus, in zoology, XIV. 171.
Stellio, reptile, XIX. 142.
Stellionate, XX. 715.
Stemphila, XX. 715.
Stempuylites, wine, XX. 715.
Stemples, in mining, XX. 715.
Stems of plants, III. 81, 82 ; V. 32.
Stenelytra, insects, IX. 165.
Steno (Nicholas), anatomist, II. 699—
on the lymphatics, 729.
Stenodactylus, reptile, XIX. 148.
Stenography, XX. 716 ; II. 551.
Stenopterus, insect, IX. 179.
Stenopteryx, insect, IX. 293.
Stenorhynchus, in zoology, XIV. 124.
Stenostoma, insect, IX. 167.
Stenotraehelus, insect, IX. 160.
Stentorophonic Tube, XX. 719.
Stenus, insect, IX. 137.
Step, in a ship, XX. 719, 285—in ar¬
chitecture, V. 676.
Stephaaides (Wm.), XVII. 112, n. 9.
Stepuano (St), in Sicily, XX. 719.
Stephanomia, zoophytes, XXI. 1017.
Stephanus Byzantinus, XX. 719.
 (Charles), XX. 720.
  (Henry), senior and junior,
printers, XX. 719, 720.
 (Paul), printer, XX. 721.
  (Robert), senior, printer, XX.
146
INDEX
STE
719 ; XVIII. 558—his Hebrew and
Latin Bibles, IV. 614 615.
Stephanos (Robert), junior, printer,
XX. 720.
 , insect, IX. 222.
Stephen, king of England, VIII. 716—
his war with Scotland, XIX. 705.
Stephen’s Island, XX. 721.
 Islands, XX. 721.
Stephens (Geo.), on irrigation, XII. 448.
Stepliilius. See Stifelius.
Stepney, in Middlesex, XX. 721.
Steppes, in South America, II. 607, 642
—in Russia, XIX. 563, 564, 586—in
Siberia, XX. 327.
Stehcoraiuans, sect, XX. 721.
Stereobate, in architecture, III. 470.
Steheogeaphjc Projection, XX. 721.
Stereometer, XX. 721; XII. 24.
Stereometry, XX. 721—Kepler’s tract
on, I. 438.
Stereotomy, XX. 721.
Stereotyping, XX. 721 ; XVIII. 563
—estimate of expense saved by, 565.
Sterility, causes of, XIV. 493—of hy¬
brids, III. 161.
Sterlet, fish, XII. 230 — gelatinous
muscles of, III. 20.
Sterling, XX. 721—sterling silver of
Britain, VI. 420; gold, 421.
Stern of aship, XX. 721, 277, 278, 294.
Stern-Fast of a ship, XX. 721.
Stern-most, XX. 721.
Stern-Post of a ship, XX. 721.
Stern-Sheets of a boat, XX. 721.
Sterna, bird, XVI. 633.
Sternarchus, fish, XII. 226.
Sternbergite, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Sterne (Laurence), XX. 721, 428 ;
XVI. 238—his character of Lord Ba¬
thurst, IV. 449—his novels, XIX. 339.
Sternomantis, XX. 722.
Sternoptyx, fish, XII. 213.
Sternoxi, insects, IX. 138.
Sternson, in ship-building, XX. 284.
Sternum,in man, II. 764—in mammalia,
III. 3—in birds, 12—in fishes, 17.
Sternotative, XX. 722.
Steropis, insect, IX. 168.
Stettin, in Prussia, XX. 722 ; IV. 329
trade of, XVIII. 694.
Steubenville, in Ohio, XVI. 330.
Stevelly (Professor), on the pendulum,
XVII. 215.
Steven (Mr), builder of a bridge in Dub¬
lin, VI. 290, n. 1.
Stevenage, in Hertford, XX. 722.
Stevens (R. L.), his improvements on
steam-boats, XX. 690.
Stevinus, or Stevin (Simon), engineer,
I. 474—discovered that the pressure
of fluids is according to their depth,
480—introduced the practice of deci¬
mal fractions, 587—on hydrostatics,
592—on the resolution of forces,
VIII. 358; XIV. 350—on navigation,
XV. 747, 748—on statics, XX. 564 ;
I. 592.
Stevenson (Alan), on light-houses, XX.
24, 25.
 (Robert), on the destruction of
timber by the Limnoria terebrans,
VII. 503—the Bell-Rock Lighthouse
erected by, XX. 17.
   (Rev. Mr), on the Carli inscrip¬
tions, XII. 291.
 (\V. B.), his account of the Pe¬
ruvians, II. 628, 629, n.
Steward, XX. 762.
Stewart (Charles Edward). See Charles
Edward.
 (Dugald), XX. 724 ; I. 386-394
—his Dissertation on the progress.of
metaphysical and ethical philosophy, 1
—on beauty, IV. 487, 501— succeeded
by Dr T. Brown, V. 602—on dreaming,
VIII. 188—on instinct, XII. 304—on
the origin of language, XIII. 64, n.—
on the science of politics, 180—on
motion, XIV. 660—on, number, 663
—Mr Mill’s eulogium of, XV. 77—
his character of Dr Adam Smith, XX.
418.
STE—STO
Stewart (John), his rope-machinery,
XIX. 469.
  (Dr Matthew), XX. 723; I.
582 —completed the Newtonian theory
of the moon, 664 ; IV. 56.
Stewart’s Islands, XX. 725.
Stewartries in Scotland, XIX. 758.
Steyer, Austrian city, XX. 725.
Steyermark, in Austria, XX. 725.
Steyning, in Sussex, XX. 725.
Stibadium, XX. 725.
Sticcato, XX. 725.
Stichos, XX. 725.
Stick-lac. See Lac.
Stickle-back, fish, XII. 175.
Stifelius, I. 591—mathematical attain¬
ments of, 442—his improvements in
algebra, II. 423.
Stigma, in botany, III. 95, 98 ; V. 45.
Stigmata, XX. 725.
Stigmatizing, XX. 725.
Stigmus, insect, IX. 230.
Stilagineoe, in botany, V. 131.
Stilbite, XV. 151—sp. gr. of, XII 36.
Stilicho, Roman general, XIX. 420.
Still, used in distillation, VIII. 49.
Stillingfleet (Edward), XX. 726.
 (Benjamin), XX. 726.
Stilobatum, XX. 727.
Stilpno-siderite, sp. gr. of, XII. 36.
Stilpo of Megara, XX. 726.
Stilton, XX. 727—cheese, XIII. 209.
Stimulants, in medicine, XX. 727.
Stimuli, muscular, XVII. 609.
Sting of insects, XX. 727. See Bee,
Entomology.
Stipulas, III. 95.
Stipulation, XX. 727.
Stipules of leaves, V. 36.
Stirling, XX. 727—curse of, VI. 179,
720 ; XIX. 746—bridge of, IX. 767.
—  (James), I. 595.
Stirlingshire, XX. 729.
Stirrup, XX. 733 ; XI. 610, 620.
Stiviere, Mantuan town, XX. 734.
Stizus, insect, IX. 229.
Stoa Poeeile, in ancient Athens, XVIII.
138 ; IV. 116—of Hadrian, 119.
Stobajus (Joannes), XX. 734.
Stockach, battle of, X. 111.
Stockbridge, in Hants, XX. 734.
Stockholm, XX. 734 ; IV. 327—Aca¬
demy of Sciences at, II. 72—Academy
of the Fine Arts, 74—canal to Got-
tenburg, IV. 331—libraries, XIII.
316—phenomenon of the Malar lake,
XXI. 285.
Stocking, XX. 734.
Stocking-manufacture of England, VIII.
779—of Nottingham, XVI. 281, 283.
Stocking-trade, VII. 407.
Stockport, in Cheshire, XX. 735.
Stocks. See Funding System.
Stockton, in Durham, XX. 735.
Stodart (Mr), his mode of tempering
steel, VII. 566.
Stoics, XX. 735 ; XVII. 431; I. 302-
notice of the most celebrated, 303—
evils which resulted from their at¬
tempts to stretch their system beyond
the limits of nature, 304—their dia¬
lectic, VII. 756.
Stoke, battle of, VIII. 740.
Stoke-Newington, XVI. 166.
Stokesley, in Yorkshire, XX. 735.
Stole, XX. 7 35—Groom of the, ib.
Stolpe, Prussian town, XX. 735.
Stoltzhirs, engraver, IX. 45.
Stomach, human, II. 814—diseases of,
XVII. 480, 481, 482, 483, 490—its
influence on other organs, 483—in¬
fluenced by the liver, 491—its func¬
tions, 628. See Digestion.
 of brutes, III. 35 ; XVII. 702,
et seq.—of bees, IV. 520—of insects,
IX. 85—diseases of, in the domestic
animals, XXI. 623, 625, 626.
Stomach-pump, XVIII. 180.
Stomach-staggers, XXI. 624.
Stomapoda, Crustacea, VII. 502.
Stomatia, mollusca, XV. 348, 364.
Stomias, fish, XII. 200.
I Stomoxidae, insects, IX. 279.
STO—STE
Stomoxys, insect, IX. 279.
Stone, town in Stafford, XX. 735.
 in the bladder. See Calculus.
 (Edmund), XX. 736.
 (Jerome), XX. 736.
Stones, XX. 736—transmission of sound
by, II. 113—expansion of, by heat,
XI. 188—specific gravity of various
kinds of, XII. 36-for building, XIV.
287 ; V. 787—friction of, XIV. 412—
showers of, XIX. 59—strength of dif¬
ferent kinds of, XX. 759—rocking
stones, 736 ; VIII. 207 — sonorous
stone, XX. 736. See Geology, Miner¬
alogy, Limestone, Sandstone, &e.
Stone-chat, bird, XVI. 275.
Stone-cutting, XIV. 298, 300.
Stone-masonry, V. 673 ; XIV. 286.
Stone-quarries in Britain, XV. 249.
Stone-ware, XVIII. 434, 500.
Stoneflies, use of, in angling. III. 135,139.
Stonehaven, XX. 736 ; XII. 721.
Stonehenge, XX. 737 ; II. 603; III.
408 ; VIII. 207 ; XII. 619, 707.
Stonehouse, XVIII. 66.
Stony-Middleton, in Derbyshire, tepid
spring at, VII. 736.
Stony Stratford, XX. 747.
Stoppers in a ship, XX. 738.
Storax, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Storck, Anabaptist leader, II. 679.
Storch on the mercantile system, XVIII.
263—on political economy, 276, et seq.
Storeys, commencement of the practice
of building houses in, III. 421.
Stork, XVI. 619.
Storms, indicated by the barometer, IV.
394. See Wind, Tornado.
Stornoway, XX. 738 ; XIII. 264 ; XIX.
488—fishery of, 487.
Storr’s classification of animals, III. 170.
Stort river navigation, XVI. 19.
Story on the conflict of laws, XIII. 174.
Stothart’s character as a painter, XVI.
727.
Stour river navigation, XVI. 11, 19.
Stourbridge, town in Worcestershire,
XX. 738—canal, XVI. 19.
Stourport, XX. 738.
Stove, XX. 738; XI. 195; XXI. 597—
botanical, XI. 686—stove-plants, 687
— stove-grate, XVIII. 127—warming
of apartments by stoves, ib.
Stow (John), historian, XX. 743—his
Chronicle quoted, VI. 613.
Stow on the Wold, XX. 743.
Stowage, XX. 743.
Stowe, gardens at, X. 338.
Stowell (Lord), decisions of, XIII. 175.
Stowey (Nether), town in Somerset¬
shire, XX. 743.
Stowmarket, in Suffolk, XX. 743.
Strabane, VIII. 114 ; XXI. 441.
Strabo, XX. 743; X. 390—his Geogra-
pby, 395; XIX. 779—on Egyptian
architecture, III. 262—bis descrip¬
tion of the site of Corinth, VII. 327
—on mythological fables, 463—on
Egyptian history, VIII. 460—on the
tides, XXI. 260.
Strachey (Edward), his translation of a
Hindu treatise on algebra, II. 425.
 (Sir H.), on the Indian courts of
law, XI. 453-4.
Strada (Famianus) XX. 744.
Strafford (Earl of). See Wentworth.
Strahan (William), XX. 744.
Straiks, XX. 745.
Strain, or Stress, XX. 745—on tim¬
bers, VI. 158 —strains to which
strength is opposed, XX. 755.
Strait, XX. 745 ; X. 407—various
meanings of the word, VIII. 12.
Strakes of a ship, XX. 745, 284.
 , in mining, XX. 745.
Stralsund, XX. 745 ; IV. 329—trade
of, XVII1. 694—siege of, in the vear
1715, XXI. 25.
Stramonium, a poison, XIV. 506.
Strange (Sir Robert), engraver, XX.
745; IX. 54.
Strangford(Lough),VIII.l32; XIII. 570.
Strangling, death from, XIV. 498.
STE
Stranraer, Scotch town, XX. 74G.
Strap, in shipbuilding, XX. 290.
Strapado, a punishment, XX. 747.
Strasbourg, in France, XX. 747 —
early printing at, XVIII. 548.
Strata, in geology, XX. 747; XV. 180,
276; XVII. 507.
Stratagem, XX. 747.
Strategus, XX. 747.
Stratford, in Essex, XX. 747. '
■ (Fenny), in Bucks, XX. 747.
 (Stony), in Bucks, XX. 747.
Stratford-on-Avon, in Warwickshire,
XX. 747—canal, XVI. 19.
Strath, XX. 747.
Strathaven, Scotch town, XX. 747.
Strathbogie, II. 29.
Stratiimiglo, in Fifeshire, XX. 748.
Strathmore, XX. 748 ; IX. 744.
Strathpeffer mineral wells, XIX. 485.
Strathspey, in Scotland, XX. 748.
Stratification, XVII. 507.
Stratified rocks, XV. 180, 276.
Stratiomydee, insects, IX. 271.
Stratiomys, insect, IX. 272.
Strato of Lampsacus, XX. 748—on
plastic nature, XVII. 797.
Straton, Cornish town, XX. 748.
Stratus, cloud, XVII. 534.
Straubing, in Bavaria, XX. 748.
Strauss (Dr), XXI. 1027.
Straw, III. 81.
Straw-hats, XI. 166.
Straw-plaiting in Orkney, XVI. 541.
Strawberry, culture of, XI. 651.
Streamers. See Aurora Borealis.
Streatham, XX. 748—castle,VIII. 291.
Streets in ancient Rome, III. 445.
Streets blowing-machine, IV. 718.
Strength, muscular, improved by train¬
ing, VIII. 25—instrument for mea¬
suring, 388 — its influence on the
mind, 442. See Muscles.
Strength of Materials, XX. 748—
passive, VI. 152—machine for trying,
XIV. 454—strength of stone, 289-
Tables of strength of fastenings in
ship-building, XX. 296 — Captain
Baker’s experiments on the strength
of timbers, XXI. 300.
Strepsiceros, African animal, II. 228.
Strepsilas, bird, XVI. 624.
Strepsiptera, insects, IX. 60, 254.
Stress, or strain. See Strain.
Stretching, in navigation, XX. 779.
Stretta and Stretto, XX. 779.
Striata corpora, II. 80!>.
Striated Leaf, in botany, XX. 779.
Stricture, in pathology, XVII. 132—01
the urethra, XX. 842.
Stridulantes, insects, IX. 201.
Strike, measure, XX. 779.
String, in architecture, III. 470.
String-courses, in architecture, V. 675.
Strings (musical), theory of, 11.122.
Stringhalt in horses, XXI. 634.
Strix, bird, XVI. 566.
Strobilus, in botany, V. 49.
Strogonoff (Anika), XX. 324.
Strokestoun, XIX. 480.
Stromateus, fish, XII. 188.
Stromboli, volcanic island, XX, 779;
XIII. 370—eruptions of, XVII. 513'
Strombus; in eonchology, XV. 347.
Strombusidse, mollusca, XV. 364.
Stromeyer, notice of his discover)' 4
cadmium, V. 770.
Stromness, in Orkney, XX. 779.
Stromnite, specific gravity of, XII. 36'
Strongbow, XII. 354.
Strongylium, insect, IX. 166.
Strongylus, zoophyte, XXI. 997—iutlw
domestic animals, 632.
Strontian, VI. 396—salts of, 446—S*c'
ebarate of, 472—specific gravity 01
salts of, XII. 36.
Strontianite, a mineral, XV. 143.
i Strontium, VI. 396.
Strophe, in poetry, XX. 780.
Strophioke, in botany, V. 50.
Stroud, XX. 780.
Stroudwater navigation, XVI. 19.
Struensee, VII. 723.
INDEX,
147
STR—SUB
Struma, in botany, V. 55.
Struthio, bird, XVI. G15.
Struthispbagi, IX. 378.
Struthium, IV. 678.
Struts, in carpentry, V. 084.
Strutt (Jedediab)- HI. 569, w. 1.
— (Josiah), VII. 400, 407.
Strutt’s Regal and Ecclesiastical Anti¬
quities, XII. 250.
Struve (Prof.), on Jupiter’s satellites,
IV. 33—on Saturn’s ring, 34—on mul¬
tiple stars, 47—bis telescope, 102—
bis measurement of an arc of the me¬
ridian, IX. 551.
Struyck (Nicolaas), on the population of-
Holland, XV. 515, 545.
Strychnia, a poisonous alkaloid, XIV.
506 ; XVIII. 178.
Strychnin, VI. 462—salts of, 463.
Stryfe (John), XX. 780.
Stuard’s patent anchor, III. 105.
Stuart (Arabella), V. 305.
  (Gilbert), XX. 780, 402—on
the feudal system, IX. 522, 524.
  (James), his Antiquities of
Athens, III. 430—on the Tower of the
Winds, VII. 758.
 (James), on Illinois, XII. 248.
 (General Sir John), V. 523.
Stubner, anabaptist leader, II. 679.
Stucco, XVII. 796—plastering of walls
with, V. 680—decay of, on walls, 681.
See Gypsum.
Sinn, XX. 784.
Students, diseases of, XIV. 509.
Studding-Sails, XX. 784.
Study, in music, XX. 784.
Stuff, in commerce, XX. 784.
Stuiilweissenburg, XX. 784.
Stukelex (William), XX. 784.
Stupor, XX. 785.
Sturdy, disease of cattle, XXI. 633.
Sturgeon, fish, XII. 230—bloodvessels
of, III. 39—sturgeon-fishery in Rus¬
sia, XIX. 576.
Sturiones, in ichthyology, XII. 230.
Sturm, or Sturmius (John), XX. 785.
Sturmixster-Marshal, XX. 785.
Sturhinster-Newton, XX. 785.
Sturnus, bird, XVI. 583.
Sturt (Captain), his expedition into New
Holland, IV. 207 ; XXL 714.
Stuttgart, in Wirtemberg, XX. 785—
library of, XIII. 313.
Styella, mollusca, XV. 368.
Stygia, insect, IX. 246, 267.
Style, XX. 785—in architecture. III.
470—in botany, 95, 98 ; V. 45—in
joinery, 688, 689.
 , in language, XX. 785—Addi¬
son’s, I. 162—his definition of fine
wrjting, ib.—simplicity of, VII. 319
—prolixity sometimes useful, VIII.
256—principles of, XIX. 214.
, old and new, in chronology, VI.
656; XVIII. 391, H.
Stylidiess, in botany, V. 117.
Stylites, XX. 785; XI. 495.
Stylobate, in architecture, III. 476—
Doric, 437-Ionic, 439, 449-Corinth-
ian, 440, 447.
Stylops,insect, IX. 254.
Styria, IV. 227—scenery of, 229.
Styx, fabled river, XX. 785.
Suakin, Nubian town, XX. 786.
Scan, Hindu town, XX. 786.
Suard (Monsieur), his character of Cor¬
neille, I. 135.
Suarez (Francis), Jesuit, XX. 786.
Surah of the Moguls, XX. 786.
Sdbahdar, XX. 786.
Subaltern officer, XX. 786.
Subarkan, Turkish village, XX. 786.
Subbulgur, Hindu town, XX. 786.
Subclavian artery, II. 820.
Subdeacon, XX*. 786.
Subduple Ratio, XX. 786.
Subduplicate Ratio, XX. 786.
Suberic acid, VI. 430.
Suberin, VI. 480.
Subiaeo, early printing at, XVIII. 548.
SUBITO, in music, XX. 787.
Subjunctive mode, X. 660, 697.
SUB—SUG
Sublapsarians, XVIII. 516.
Sublimate, in chemistry, XX. 787.
Sublimation, in chemistry, XX. 787.
Sublimity, IV. 500; X. 707.
Sobmultiple, XX. 787—Ratio, ib.
Subordinaries, in heraldry, XI. 251.
Subpcena, in law, XX. 787.
Subreptitiotjs, XX. 787.
Subrogation, XX. 787.
Subroy, Hindu town, XX. 787.
Subsoil-ploughing, XX. 731.
Substance, mistaken application of the
word, I. 242. See Matter.
Substantive noun, X. 640, 683.
Subsulphurous acid, VI. 375.
Subtangent of a curve, XX. 787.
Subtense, in geometry, XX. 787.
Subtraction, in arithmetic, XX. 787;
III. 544—of vulgar fractions, 558—
of decimals, 560, 562, 563—in algebra,
II. 428, 432.
Subuliconies, insects, IX. 209.
Subulipalpi, insects, IX. 134.
Subunreeka, river, XX. 787.
Succadana, in Borneo, XX. 787 ; V. 10.
Succession, French law of, VII. 391—
war of the Spanish, IV. 220 ; V. 369 ;
XVI. 121. See Primogeniture.
Sueciuea, mollusca, XV. 348, 358.
Succinic acid, VI. 429.
Succory, culture of, XI. 674.
Succula, in mechanics, XX. 787.
Suchet (General), V. 534.
Suck, river, X. 303.
Suckers, fishes, XII. 236.
Sucking, operation of, XVIII. 124 —
whether an instinctive act of infants,
XII. 296, 301.
Sucking-fish, XII. 222.
Suckling (Sir John), XX. 787—charac¬
ter of his poetry, XVIII. 170.
Suckut, Hindu town, XX. 787.
Sucre (General), IV. 757,760 ; VII. 103.
Suctasgur, Hindu town, XX. 787.
Suction, II. 45. See Sucking.
Suctoria, insects, IX. 60, 294.
Sudashygbr, XX. 787.
Sudatory, XX. 787.
Sudertoania (Duke of), revolution in
Sweden in his favour, XXI. 28.
Suilis, fish, XII. 216.
Sudras, Hindu caste, VI. 224 ; XI. 402.
Sueca, Spanish city, XX. 787.
Suen-Hoa, Chinese city, XX. 788.
Suetonius Tranquillus, XX. 788.
 Paulinus, V. 299 ; XIX. 4 03.
Suevi, XX. 788; X. 473—their irrup¬
tion into Spain, XX. 492.
Sueyus, German river, XX. 788.
Suez, XX. 788—canal across isthmus
of, XVI. 1.
Suffocation, VIII. 201; XIV. 498.
Suffolk, XX. 789—breed of pigs, II.
338 — punch, 317—duns, 323—fish¬
eries, IX. 602.
Suffragan, XX. 790.
Suffrage, XX. 790.
Sugar, XX. 790 ; VI. 472; VIII. 52;
XVII. 625; XXL 568—of^va,IV. 240
—Bengal, 565—Bourbon, V. 151—Bra¬
zil, 206-7—St Domingo, VIII. 107—
France, X. 184—Hindustan, XI. 380,
391—Italy, XII. 488—Malaga, XIV.
53—Mexico, 801—the United States,
XXL 463—ants fond of, III. 241—
contained in wheat, IV. 298—consti¬
tuents of, V. 247—cane-sugar, VI. 472
—sugar of figs, 473; of starch, ib.; of
mushrooms, ib.; of manna, 474 ; of
liquorice, ib.; of milk, 499; of dia¬
betes, 501—effects of feeding a dog
solely on, VIII. 18—its nutritive qua¬
lities, 20; XVII. 625—its use in cur¬
ing gravel, VIII. 24 ; and in preserv¬
ing food, IX. 734—is the only source
of ardent spirits, VIII. 44—different
kinds of, ib.—specific gravity of, XII.
36—optical properties of, XVI. 505
—Mr Howard’s process of boiling in
vacuo, XX. 576—its production from
seeds, XXL 569—essential in wine¬
making, 894—Prussian manufacture
of beet-root sugar, XVIII. 692.
SUG—SUL
Sugar-ant, III. 239, 241—means of de¬
stroying it, 244.
Sugar-candy, VI. 79 ; XX. 796.
Sugar-cane, XII. 499—texture of, III.
62—stem of, 81—often injured by
ants, 242.
Sugar-duties, VII. 176.
Sugar-bouses in Glasgow, X. 553.
Sugar-trade of London, XIII. 504.
Sugat, in Asia Minor, XX. 797.
Sugden on the usury-laws, XII. 325.
Suggestion, its meaning as employed by
Reid and Berkeley, I. 167—and by Dr
T. Brown, 400.
Suggowly, Hindu town, XX. 797.
Suiatoi Nos, in Russia, XX. 797.
Suicide, XX. 797—common among the
North American Indian women, II.
620—no crime with the Chinese, VI.
587—in Paris, XVII. 81—Socrates’s
opinion of, XX. 459.
Suidas, Greek lexicographer, XX. 799
—on chemistry, VI. 341.
Suir, Irish river, XXI. 313—its naviga¬
tion, XVI. 23.
Suit, or action at law, XX. 799 ; II. 131.
Sujah Dowlah, XI. 418.
Suk El Harf, in Arabia, XX. 799.
Sukana, Syrian village, XX. 799.
Suki, Turkish town, XX. 799.
Sula, bird, XVI. 634.
Suliago, islands, XX. 799.
Suliotes, II. 377.
Sully (Maximilian de Bethune, Duke
of), XX. 800—anecdote of, IV. 473—
superstition of, XX. 813.
Sullivan on feudal law, XX. 781.
Sulphates, VI. 375.
Sulphides of antimony, VI. 386; arsenic,
384 ; and molybdenum, 390.
Sulpho-antimoniates, VI. 459.
Sulpho-arseniates, VI. 457.
Sulpho-arsenites, VI. 458.
Sulphocyanic ether, VI. 439.
Sulphocyanodides, VI. 456.
Sulphohydrates, VI. 457.
Sulphomolybdates, VI. 458.
Sulphotellurates, VI. 459.
Sulphotungstates, VI. 459.
Sulphur, in chemistry, VI. 374—in mi¬
neralogy, XV. 171—for gunpowder,
XL 78—specific gravity of, XII. 36—
useful in destroying insects, 293 —
of Japan, 512—supposed showers of,
XVII. 536.
Sulphur acids, VI. 436.
Sulphur acid salts, VI. 457.
Sulphur Island, XX. 800.
Sulphureous springs, XVII. 527—in
Derbyshire, VII. 736.
Sulphurets of- antimony, VI. 386—ar¬
senic, 384—barium, 395—bismuth,
417—cadmium, 411—calcium, 397—
cerium, 400—chromium, 387—cohalt,
409—columbiutn, 391—copper, 415
glucinum, 399—gold, 420—iron, 405
—lead, 412—manganese, 408—mer¬
cury, 418—nickel, 408—osmium, 425
—palladium, 423—phosphorus, 382
—platinum, 422—potassium, 393—
selenium, 379—silver, 419—thorium,
402—tin, 414—titanium, 392—tung¬
sten, 390—uranium, 389—vanadium,
388—yttrium, 400—zinc, 410—zir¬
conium, 401.
Sulphuretted hydrogen, in chemistry,
VI. 376—in mineralogy, XV. 137—
poisonous quality of, XIV. 503, 504
—springs impregnated by, XVII. 527.
Sulphuric acid, in chemistry, VI. 374—
in mineralogy, XV. 137—specific gra¬
vity of, XII. 36—poisonous quality
of, XIV. 503.
Sulphuric ether, VI. 438.
Sulphurous acid, VI. 374—poisonous
quality of, XIV. 503.
Sulpicia, Roman poetess, XX. 800.
Sulpitius Seyerus, XX. 800—his con¬
nexion with Vigilantius, XXI. 648.
Sultan, Turkish, XX. 800 ; XXI. 420.
SULTANHISSAR, XX. 800.
Sultanpore, Hindu town, XX. 800.
Sulzer (John George), XX. 800,
SUL—SUP
Sulzer (Mr), his experiments on the
elasticity of air, XVIII. 100.
Sumach, a brown dye-stuff, VIII. 331.
Sumatra, XX. 801—cannibalism in,
III. 249—edible birds’ nests, IV. 646
fillagree, IX. 579—language, XIII.
82—serpents, XX. 136—map of, XII.
PI. CCCVII.-2.
Sumaun, Hindu town, XX. 808.
Sumbawa, island in the Eastern Seas,
XX. 808—volcano in, XVII. 513.
Sumbhulpore, in Hindustan, XX. 808.
SUMBOONHAUT, XX. 808.
Sumbul, XX. 808—river, VI. 685.
Sumishore, Hindu town, XX. 808.
Summer, XX. 808.
Summer-lightning, VIII. 622.
Summer Islands. See Bermudas.
Sumnum, Persian town, XX. 808.
Sumptuary Laws, XX. 808.
Sumy, Russian city, XX. 808.
Sun, XX. 808 ; III. 764—its motions,
757—its oval appearance in the hori¬
zon, 763—its apparent circular mo¬
tion in the ecliptic, 764—its orbit,
768—its diameter, 769—variation of
its motion, ib.—describes areas pro¬
portional to the times, ib.—ecceritri-
city of its orbit, 771—equation of the
centre, ib.—secular diminution of
the eccentricity of its orbit, 772—de¬
termination of its place in its orbit,
ib.—its parallax, distance, and vo¬
lume, 773—its spots and rotation,
778—position of its axis, 780—its
constitution, 783—its eclipses, IV. 9
—transits of Venus and Mercury over
its disc, 24—force by which it dis'
turbs the moon’s motion round the
earth, 54—elements for the projec¬
tion of its eclipses, 90—heat of its
rays, V. 726; VI. 758; XV. 175-
effects of its rays on climate, VI. 747
quantity of light received from it in
different latitudes, ib., 748—its ob¬
liquity a source of cold, VII. 58—
tables of its longitude and declination
for every day in the year, &c., 780-2—
electricity of its rays, VIII. 607—pro¬
perties of its rays, XIII. 332—mag¬
netism of its rays, 696, 753—halo
round the, XIV. 749 — to take its
altitude, XV. 777, 778 —to reduce
its declination, 779—Sir David Brew¬
ster’s analysis of its light, XVI. 369
—cause of splendour of sunrise and
sunset, XVII. 531—instrument for
observing force of solar radiation,
XXI. 241—solar year, VI. 4—solar
cycle, 8—Laeaille and Mayer’s Solar
Tables, XIV. 335—mock-sun, 750.
Sun-fish, XII. 169, 228.
Sun-stone, VI. 237.
Sunbury, in Middlesex, XX. 808.
Sunda, Straits of, XX. 808.
Sunday, XX. 809—old English sports
on, XVII. 114—origin of the word,
XVIII. 337. See Sabbath.
 Island, XX. 809.
 Schools in England, XXI. 529.
Sundeep Isle, XX. 809.
Sundella, Hindu town, XX. 809.
Sunderbunds, in Bengal, XX. 809; IV.
564; X. 3X3; XL 553.
Sdnderland, XX. 809-^iron bridge at,
III. 392—coal-trade of, VIII. 289.
 (Earl of), V. 357.
Sundraborn, in Celebes, XX. 810.
Sunerampore, in Bengal, XX. 810.
Sungei Tenang, in Sumatra, XX. 810.
Sunn, XI. 230.
Sunninghill, in Berkshire, XX. 810,
Supercargo, IX. 475.
Supererogation, in theology, XX. 810.
Superficies, XX. 810 ; X. 431-2.
Superintendent, XX. 810.
Superior (Lake), in North America, VI.
58, 64 ; XVII. 522 ; XXI. 455.
Superlative, in grammar, XX. 810.
Superolefiant gas, VI. 371.
Superparticular proportion, XX. 811.
Superpartient proportion, XX. 811.
Superstition, XX. 811.
148
INDEX,
SUP—SWA
Supine, in grammar, XX. 813.
Suppek, XX. 813—the Lord’s, ib. See
Eucharist.
Suppsitoky, XX. 819.
Supplement of an are or angle, XXI.
370.
Suppobteks, XX. 819 ; XI. 258.
Scpbalapsabians,in theology, XX. 819;
XVIII. 516.
Subajeghub, Hindu town, XX. 819.
Sueajepoob, Hindu town, XX. 819.
Siieat, XX. 819 ; XI. 32.
Surata, XVI. 779.
Surbase, in architecture. III. 470.
Suecingle, XX. 819.
Subcoat, in dress, XX. 819.
Sued, XX. 819.
SURDASTBUM, XX. 819.
Suedy, island, XX. 819.
Surenas, XVII. 100, et seq.
Subp of the sea, XX. 819.
Subface, XX. 810; X. 431, 432.
Surgeon, qualities necessary in a, XX.
832—London College of Surgeons,
XIII. 517.
Surgeby, XX. 820; XIV. 526 —Aca¬
demies of, II. 68—application of ana¬
tomy to, 702-3.
Surgical instruments, XX. 831—manu¬
facture of, VII. 567.
Suriago, XX. 799.
Surikate, in zoology, XIV. 119.
Surinam, XI. 22.
Surinamin, VI. 470.
Subname, XX. 846.
Surplice, XX. 846.
Surreptitious, XX. 787.
Surrey, English county, XX. 847—
Grand Canal, XVI. 14.
 (Earl of), his translation of part
of the JEneid, VIII. 129—poetry of,
XVIII. 169.
Suebool, in Bengal, XX. 848.
Sursolid, in arithmetie, XX. 848.
Sursutly, Hindu river, XX. 848.
Survey, trigonometrical, XXI. 351.
Surveying, XXI. 1.
Survivorship, presumptions of, XIV.
494. See Annuities.
Sus, in zoology, XIV. 149.
Susa, XXI. 7 — taken by Alexander,
XIII. 632—his residence there, 639.
 , in Sardinia, XXI. 7.
Susarion, the Greek drama improved by,
VIII. 144.
Susedoon, Hindu town, XXI. 7.
Suspension Bridge, XXI. 7. See
Bridge (Suspension.!
Susquehannah, American river, XIV.
271; XVII. 221.
Sussex, XXI. 8—cattle, II. 323—breed
of pigs, 338—fisheries, IX. 603.
Siissmilch on mortality, XV. 514, 546.
Sutalury, in Bengal, XXL 10.
Sutchana, Hindu town, XXI. 10.
Sutherland, Scotch county, XXI. 10-
fisheries of, IX 601.
Sutlege. See Sutulege.
Sutler of an army, XXI. 12.
Sutton (Cha. Manners), elected Speaker
of the House of Commons, V. 543.
Sutton’s windmill-sails, XIV. 435.
Sutton-Coldfield, XXI. 12.
Sutulege, or Sutlege, Hindu river,
XXL 12; XI. 369,375.
Sutures of bones, II, 746—of the skull,
782-4 ; XVII. 614—frontal, II.771—
sagittal and coronal, 774—in the mam¬
malia, III. 4—in birds, 11.
Suwarof (General), X. 111, et seq.; XIX.
554—his Italian campaign, III. 608 ;
V. 488.
Suz, kingdom of, XV. 508.
Svanberg’s measurement of arc on the
earth’s surface, IX. 550.
Sviatoslaf, king of Russia, XIX. 529.
Swadlingbar, VI. 256.
SwaffSiam, in Norfolk, XXL 12.
Swainson on the classification of the
mammalia, XIV. 84, n.—on birds,
XVI. 552, 643—on the number of
species of animals, XVII. 549—on
fha geographical distribution of ani-
SWA—SWI
mals, 550—on the zoology of Spain,
XX. 517.
Swalbacius (J. G.), on birds, XVI. 545.
Swallow, XVI. 557, 558—hybernation
of the, III. 168.
Swally, Hindu sea-port, XXI. 12.
Swammerdam (John), XXL 12 ; XVII.
728—his anatomical researches, II.
700—on ants, III. 239—on bees, IV.
519, et seq.—on the metamorphosis of
insects, IX. 88.
Swan, XVI. 635—in Iceland, XII. 148.
Swan Isles, XXI. 12.
Sw an River settlement, in New Holland,
IV. 206 ; XXI. 721, 976.
Swanage, in Dorsetshire, XXL 12.
Swanpan, XXI. 13. See Abacus.
Swansea, XXI. 13 — copper sold at,
VII. 312—canal, XVI. 19.
Swarming of ants, III. 243—of bees,
IV. 529.
Swartz, botanical labours of, V. 75.
Swayne’s apparatus for keeping silk¬
worms, XX. 352.
Swearing, love of, VIII. 273. See Oath.
Sweden, XXL 13—statistics, 29 ; IX.
417—Royal Swedish Academy, II. 72,
77—Academy of the Fine Arts, 74—
alum-works, 573, 576—Swedish skull,
784—army, III. 609—bread, IV. 295,
300—balance, 306—Baltic coast, 327
—canals, 331; XXI. 389—botanists,
V. 78—Sir John Moore’s expedition
to, 524—colonies, VII. 126—union
with Denmark and Norway, 721 ;
XVI. 259—wars with Denmark, VII.
722—trade with England, VIII. 779 ;
with France, X. 190—jury trial, XII.
651 —language, XIII. 85 ; XVII. 419-
libraries, XIII. 316—variation of the
needle, 733, 736—elevation of bed of
sea, XV. 218—iron-mines, 250—cop¬
per-mines, 251 — coins, 408, 411 —
population and mortality, 516; 518,
540, et seq., 551, 558, et seq.; XVIII.
410; XXI. 537—newspapers, XVI.
173—birds, 550—heights of moun¬
tains, XVII. 505—the Reformation,
XIX.' 93—roads, 299—religion, 315
—wars with Russia, 542, et seq. ; V.
451—bear-hunting, XX. 302—Tel¬
ford’s engineering survey, XXI. 171
— mortality from small-pox, 537-
weights and measures, 855—map of,
XXL PI. 492.
Swedenborg (Emanuel), XXL 32.
Swediaur (Dr), on ambergris, II. 592.
Swedish turnip, II. 286 — feeding of
sheep on, 263.
Sweep, in sea-language, XXI. 34.
Sweyn’s invasion of England, VIII. 706.
Swift (Jonathan), XXI. 34—possible
source of his idea of Gulliver’s voy¬
age to Laputa, II. 179 —his Medita¬
tion on a Broomstick, V. 165—his
character of Marlborough, VI. 688—
perhaps derived hints from Aristo¬
phanes, VIII. 149—his epigram on
Stephen Duck, 250 — his Drapier’s
Letters, XII. 380, 411—his poetry,
XVIII. 172—his abuse of Vanbrugh,
XXL 551.
 , bird, XVI. 578.
Swimming, XXI. 39—air-jacket, II. 367
—cork-jacket, VII. 328—of horses,
XI. 618—utility of the art of, XIII.
323—repulsion the cause of some bo¬
dies swimming in fluids specifically
lighter than themselves, XX. 753.
Swinburne (Mr), his account of the Al¬
hambra, II. 512 ; and of the Moffeta,
670.
Swindon, in Wiltshire, XXI. 42.
Swine, XIV. 149, 201—varieties and
management of, II. 337.
Swine-houses, II. 272.
Swineshead, a town in Lincolnshire,
XXL 42.
Swing-plough, II. 265, 349.
Swinton (Sir John), VI. 606.
Switzer (Stephen), on Savary’s steam-
engine, XX. 617 — on Newcomen’s
steam-engine, 623.
SWI—SYN
Switzerland, XXI. 42—trout of lakes
of, III. 143-4—botanists, V. 81—con¬
quered by the French, 484; X. 108—
its importance to them, V. 184, 488—
cotton-manufacture, VII. 418—French
trade, X. 189—variation of the needle,
XIII. 736—coins, XV. 408, 411—
newspapers, XVI. 173 — heights of
mountains, XVII. 505—lakes, 523-
increase of population, XVIII. 417—
prisons, 584—the Reformation, XIX.
88—religion, 315—weights and mea¬
sures, XXL 855—map of, PI. 493.
Swooning-fits of animals, XXL 632.
Sword, XXI. 51; IX. 501—Roman, III.
592—of State, XXI. 51.
Sword-fish, XII. 184 ; XV. 704.
Sybines, insects, IX. 174.
Sybistroma, insect, IX. 277.
Sycamore-tree, XVII. 784, 786.
Sychee-tea, XXL 131.
Syconus, in botany, V\ 50.
Sydabad, Hindu town, XXL 51. *
Sydapobum, Hindu town, XXL 51.
Sydenham (Thomas), XXI. 51—praise
bestowed by Locke upon his work on
Acute Diseases, I. 101—on intermit¬
tent fever and hysteria, XVII. 486.
Sydneum, in conchology, XV. 371.
Sydney, XXI. 52, 712.
Syene, in Egypt, XXI. 52—antiquities
at, VIII. 532.
Syenite, Egyptian, VIII. 517.
Syennesis of Cyprus, II. 686.
Sylah, Hindu town, XXI. 52.
Sylla (Lucius Cornelius), XXL 53;
VI. 126 ; XL 478 ; XIX. 391, et seq.
—an apparition seen by. III. 296—
capture of Athens by, IV. 127—his
expedition into Asia against Mithri-
dates, XVIII. 350.
Syllable, XXI. 53.
Syllabus, XXI. 53.
Syllis, worm, XL 220.
Syllogism, XXL 53; XIII. 445—forms
of, 449—Aristotle on, III. 512.
Sylvan, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Sylvanite, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Sylvanus, VII. 273.
 , insect, IX. 176.
Sylvester II., on arithmetic, III. 541.
Sylvester’s rope-machine, XIX. 463.
Sylvia, bird, XVI. 575.
Sylvius (Jacobus), anatomist, II. 694.
 (Francis de la Boe), on chemis¬
try, VI. 348.
Symbol, XXL 53.
Symington’s steam-boats, X. 549 ; XX.
687, 688.
Symmachus (Quintus Aurelius), XXI.
53; II. 601—orations of, XVI. 765.
Symmer (R.), on electricity, VIII. 570.
Symnel (Lambert), VIII. 740.
Symond’s Inn, XII. 282.
Symonds (Mr), on the mechanics of law¬
making, XIII. 169.
 (Sir William), on ship-building,
XX. 230.
Sympathetic ink, VII. 505 ; XII. 280.
    Nerve, great, II. 813.
Sympathy, XXL 53 ; XIV. 583 ; XV.
17 3—Adam Smith’s theory regard-
ing> 1 • 359-60—its effect in render¬
ing pleasing the contemplation of dis¬
tress, VIII. 54-5—in medicine, XVII.
136, 483—in physiology, 678.
Sympiesometer, IV. 394.
Sympheropole, XXI. 53 ; VII. 472.
Symphony, XXI. 53.
Symploce, in rhetoric, XXI. 54.
Symploceae, in botany, V. 118.
Symposiarch, XXI. 54.
Symptom, in medicine, XIV. 518.
Synjeresis, in grammar, XXI. 54.
Synagogue of the Jews, XXI. 54.
Synagris, insect, IX. 231.
Synallaxis, bird, XVI. 588.
Synaloepha, in grammar, XXI. 54.
Synanceia, fish, XII. 174.
Synapha, insect, IX. 262.
Synbranchus, fish, XII. 225.
Syncellus, XXI. 54.
Synchronism, XXL 54.
SYN—TAB
Syncopation, in music. See Slur.
Syncope, XXI. 54—mistaken for death
XII. 330.
Syndic, a civil officer, XXL 54.
Synedoche, in rhetoric, XXL 54.
Synecphonesis, XXI. 54.
Synesius, his admiration of Hypatia
XII. 136. ’
Synetheres, in zoology, XIV. 139.
Synetrita, insect, IX. 176.
Syngnatha, insects, XV. 654.
Syngnathus, fish, XII. 227.
Synod, in astronomy, XXI. 54.
 , ecclesiastical assembly, XXL 51
—Scotch synods, XVIII. 526; XIX.
763.
Synodals, XXI. 54.
Synodendron, insect, IX. 162.
Synodic month, III. 791.
Synodical, XXI. 54.
Synodontis, fish, XII. 202.
Syncecia, Grecian feast, XXI. 54.
Synoicum, molluscum, XV. 370.
Synonymous, XXI. 54.
Synovia, XVII. 60i.
Synovial membranes, II. 756 ; XXI.616
—diseases of, 617.
Syntax, in grammar, XXI. 54.
Synthesis, in logic, XXI. 54.
Syntomis, insect, IX. 244.
Syntomium, insect, IX. 244.
Syphax, XIV. 276 ; XVI. 302.
Syphilis, XVII. 487, 495—its introduc¬
tion into Europe, XVI. 681—poem of
Fracastorius on, XX. 828; IX. 808.
Syphon, XII. 14 ; XVIII. 96—oscilla¬
tion of water in, XII. 81.
Syphon-fountain, XVIII. 96.
Syphostoma, worm, XL 219.
Syra, Greek island, XXI. 55.
Syracuse, XXI. 55; XV. 701—besieged
by the Carthaginians, VI. 186, 188.
Syria, XXL 59—Druses of, VIII. 217
—conquered by Mehemmed Ali, 504
—invaded by the Moguls, XV. 317—
parched wind of, XVII. 541—war of
the Romans with, XIX. 387—Syrian
months, VI. 659 ; empire, XL 475;
branch of the Caucasian race of man,
II. 709.
Syriac alphabet, II. 548—Bibles, IV.
615—language, XIII. 83—targums,
XIX. 789.
Syrian, Burmese town, XXL 65.
Syringa, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Syringe, XXI. 65 ; XVIII. 77, et seq.
Syruium, bird, XVI. 566.
Syrphici, insects, IX. 272.
Syrphus, insect, IX. 274.
Syrrhaptes, birds, XVI. 612.
Syrtis, insect, IX. 196.
Syrup, IX. 734.
System, XXI. 65—in natural history,
XV. 739.
Systole, XVII. 641.
Systropha, insect, IX. 233.
Systyle, XXL 65 j III. 470.
Syzygy, in astronomy, XXI. 65.
Szarvas, in Hungary, XXI. 65.
Szegedin, in Hungary, XXI. 65.
Szigeth, in Hungary, XXI. 66.
T
T, letter of the alphabet, XXI. 66.
Ta, Chinese city, XXL 66.
Taawiry, islands, XXI. 66.
Tab, Fersian river, XXI. 66.
Tab a Islands, off Borneo, XXL 66.
Tababella, Hindu town, XXL 66.
Tabanii, insects, IX. 265.
Tabanus, insect, IX. 265.
Tabas, Persian city, XXI. 66.
Tabascheer, IV. 337—sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Tabasco, Mexican state, XIV. 817.
Tabboo, XXI. 67; XVIII. 321.
Tabby, a Kind of silk, XXI. 66.
Tabbying, XXI. 66.
Tabellio, XXL 66.
Taberna, Spanish city, XXI. 66
INDEX,
149
TAB—TAK
TAK—TAN
TAN—TAR
TAR—TAX
TabebnACLE, Jewish, XXI. 6 6; XV. 567.
 , in architecture, III. 470.
Tabernacles (Feast op), XXI. 66.
Tablas Isle, XXI. 67.
Tablature, in music, XXI. 67.
Table, XXI. 67.
 Island, XXI. 67.
 Mountain, X. 613.
Table-lands, XVII. 501.
Tablet, in architecture, III. 470.
Taboo, XXL 67; XVIII. 321.
Tabor (Mount), XXI. 67 ; XVI. 743.
 •, Bohemian city, XXI. 67.
Tabriz, Persian city, XXI. 67.
Tacamahaca, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Tacazze, river, II. 56, 58.
Tachina, insect, IX. 282.
Tachinus, insect, IX. 138.
Tachydromise, insects, IX. 270.
Tachydromus, reptile, XIX. 141.
Tachygraphy, art of, XXI. 68.
Tachylite, specific gravity of, XII. 36.
Tachypetes, bird, XVI. 634.
Tachyphonus, bird, XVI. 571.
Tachyporus, insect, IX. 138.
Tacitos (Caius C.), XXI. 68; XVII.
412, 413—his Life of Agricola, V. 299
—on the Germans, VI. 592, 596 ; X.
474—on the Christians, XI. 488.
 (Marcus Claudius), XIX. 413.
Tack, rope in a ship, XXI. 69.
Tacking, in seamanship, XXL 69; XX.
50.
Tacon, VII. 95.
Tacodlum, Hindu town, XXI. 69.
Tactics, XXI. 69—naval, XVI. 56;
XXL 754—military, 733—attack in
column, IX. 712, n.—signals at sea,
XX. 331.
Tacubaya, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Tadcaster, XXI. 69.
Tadmor, XVI. 773. See Palmyra.
Tadorna, bird, XVI. 637.
Tadpoles, XIX. 151—their temporary
gills, III. 40.
Tania, in architecture, III. 465, 470.
 , zoophyte, XXI. 996—in horses,
627.
Tanioidae, in ichthyology, XII. 189.
Taf, river, X. 532.
Tafel-visch,. fish, XII. 170.
Taffety, XXI. 69.
Tafilet, in Morocco, XV. 509.
Taoal, in Java, XXI. 69.
Tagalaz, island, XXI. 69.
Taganrog, a city of European Russia,
XXL 69; IV. 661.
Tagapola, island, XXL 69.
Tagenia, insect, IX. 163.
Tagliacozzi (Gasparo), an Italian sur¬
geon, XXL 69 ; XX. 829.
Tagolanda, island, XXI. 69.
Tagus, river, XXL 69, 322 ; XVIII.
478 ; XX. 516.
Tagypeel, island, XXI. 69.
Tahej, Hindu town, XXI. 69.
Taber Pasha, VIII. 495.
Tahiti, or Otaheite, tides at, XXL 281.
See Otaheite.
fAniiOR, Hindu town, XXL 69.
Tahnesib, Hindu town. XXl. 70.
Tahnoon, in Hindustan, XXI. 70.
Tahncm, Hindu town, XXI. 70.
Tahoorowah, island, XXI 70.
Tahrah, Hindu town, XXI. 70.
Tahuk, Arabian town, XXI. 70.
Taif, Arabian town, XXI. 70.
Tail of.animals, XXI. 70—bones of,
HI. 3,11—muscles, 20—uses, ib.
~—’ or Fee-Tail, in law, XXI. 70.
tiulle, in France, XXI. 103.
Tailors, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Tailzie, XXL 70.. See Entail.
■Uihboorny, Hindu town, XXI. 70.
Taimur, Russian cape, XXI. 70.
1 aimurskaia (Gulf of), XXI. 70.
tain, town in Ross-shire, XXI. 70.
iai-Ping, Chinese cities, XXI. 70.
Taitong, Chinese city, XXI. 70.
Taixah, VI. 2.
Tai Yuen, Chinese city, XXI. 70.
1 ajgauw, Hindu town, XXL 70.
iakakakan, island, XXI. 70.
Takt-i-Bostan, sculptures at, XVII.
258.
Talalap, island, XXI. 70.
Talavera, in Spain, XXI. 70—battle
of, III. 637 ; V. 527.
Talbot (H. F.), on the colours of double
plates, XVI. 449, 452.
 , Sir John, in Ireland, XII. 359.
Talc, specific gravity of, XII. 36, 37.
Talc-mica, in mineralogy, XV. 148.
Talcahuano, VI. 542.
Talent, XXI. 71; XIV. 468.
Talgarth, Welsh town, XXI. 71.
Talherom, XVI. 744.
Tali, Chinese city, XXI. 71.
Taliacotius. See Tagliaeozzi.
Talicius, VII. 286.
Talio, XXI. 71. See Retaliation.
Talismans, XXL 71.
Tall, various meanings of, VIII. 11.
Tallahasse, IX. 627.
Tallard (Marshal), V. 369.
Talleyrand, X. 141—his reply to Lord
Grenville, V. 490.
Tallow, candles of, VI. 77—specific
gravity of, XII. 37—its use in greas¬
ing axles, XIV. 413, 417—mineral
tallow, VI. 444.
Tally, XXI. 71—calculation by tallies,
II. 8.
Talmud, Jewish, XXI. 71; XII. 577.
See Mischna.
Talnere, Hindu town, XXI. 72.
Talpa, in zoology, XIV. 1'04.
Talt (Lough), XX. 392.
Tamahoo, island, XXL 72.
Taman, island, XXI. 72.
Tamandua, in zoology, XIV. 144.
Tamanlipas, in Mexico, XIV. 818.
Tamar, river, XXI. 72; VII. 745—its
navigation, XVI. 19—canal, VII. 745.
Tamarin, in zoology, XIV. 96.
Tamariscinese, in botany, V. 99.
Tamatave, in Madagascar, XIII. 668.
Tamatia, bird, XVI. 599.
Tambah, Hindu town, XXI. 72.
Tambekan, Hindu town, XXI. 72.
Tambour, XXI. 72.
 de Basque, XXL 72.
Tambourin, XXL 72.
Tambouring-machine, VII. 407.
Tambow, in Russia, XXI. 72.
Tamburo, XXI. 72.
Tamburone, XXI. 72.
Tame, river. VI. 509—attempted iron
bridge over the, V. 279.
Tameae, in botany, V. 134.
Tamerlane, or Timour Beg, XXL 72,
82-3—his treatise on war, III. 580,
n. 1—conquests of, 689 ; XI. 482 ;
XV. 317 ; XVII. 265—a great chess¬
player, VI. 519—his defeat and treat¬
ment of Bajazet, VII. 289; XXI. 411;
IV. 284.
Tamnophilus, insect, IX. 174.
Tampico, Mexican sea-port, XIV. 816.
Tamtam, or gong, XV. 617.
Tamwobth, English town, XXI. 73—
old chesnut-tree at, 588. •
Tan, XXI. 73. See Tanning.
Tanaga, island, .XXI. 73.
Tanager, bird, XVI. 571.
Tanagra, bird, XVI. 571.
Tanah, Hindu town, XXl. 73.
Tanais, river, VIII. 109; XIX. 564.
Tanakeke, island, XXI. 73.
Tandah, Hindu town, XXI. 73.
Tanete, in Celebes, XXI. 73.
Tangent, XXI. 370.
Tangerang, in Java, XXI. 73.
Tangier, town in Morocco, XXI. 73;
XV. 504—mole at, V. 214.
Tangle, V. 138.
Tangropilix, VII. 283.
Tangun horse, IV. 794.
Tanistry, law of, XIX. 704.
Tanjore, in Hindustan. XXI. 73.
Tank, XXL 74.
Tanksal, Hindu town, XXI. 74.
Tanna, Hindu town, XXI. 74.
 , island, XXL 74; IV. 214.
   BaXloo, island, XXI. 74.
Tanner (Thomas), antiquary, XXI. 74.1
Tannesar, XXI. 190.
Tannin, VI. 481 ; VIII. 305, 328;
XVII. 620—exists in the coats of cer¬
tain seeds, III. 73.
Tanning, XXI. 74—in Chili, VI. 533
—Sir Humphry Davy on, VII. 638.
See Tan.
Tanore, in Malabar, XXI. 77.
Tanrec, in zoology, XIV. 105—its hy¬
bernation, III. 168.
Tantalite, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Tantalium, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Tantalum, VI. 391—ore, XV. 161.
Tantalus, in fable, XXL 77.
 , bird, XVI. 620.
Tanypeza, insect, IX. 287.
Tanypus, insect, IX. 259.
Tanysiptera, bird, XVI. 59 3.
Tao-tse, VI. 560.
Taoo, island, XXL 77.
Taormina, in Sicily, XXI. 77.
Taouka, island, XXI. 78.
Tap-roots, III. 88.
Tapajos, river, V. 198.
Tapanooly, in Sumatra, XXL 78.
Taper, XXI. 78—Paschal, ib.
Tapestry, XXI. 78.
Tapetum in various animals, III. 23.
Tapeworm, XXI. 996.
Taphozous, in zoology, XIV. 101.
Tapioca, V. 67 ; VI. 477.
Tapir, in zoology, XIV. 151 —structure
of the, XVII. 707.
Tapool, island, XXL 79.
Tapopo, island, XXI. 79.
Tappa, island, XXL 79.
Tapping of animals, XXI. 625.
Taprobane, X. 391.
Tar, XXL 79; XVI. 49—coal-tar, X.
351—fossil-tar, XIX. 622.
Tarabad, Hindu town, XXI. 79.
Tarah, hill of, XIV. 348.
Tarahpoor, Hindu town, XXI. 79.
Taranta (Valesco de), XX. 828.
Tarantella, dance, XXI. 79.
J Taranto, XXL 79 ; XV. 699.
| Tarare, French town, XXI. 80—cot¬
ton-manufacture of, VII. 417.
j , an excessive eater, VIII. 23.
Tarascon, French town, XXI. 80.
I Tarbes, in France, XXI. 80.
Tardebig, in Worcestershire, XXI. 80.
i Tardigrada, XIV. 142; XVII. 706.
| Tare, III. 555.
Tares, culture and varieties of, II. 284.
Tarem, Persian town, XXL 80.
Tarent, island, XXI. 80.
Tarentine War, XIX. 383.
Tarentula, III. 363.
Targum, XXI. 80 ; XIX. 789.
Tarija, in La Plata, XVIII. 8.
Tarn, in France, XXI. 80.
 and Garonne, a department in
France, XXL 81.
Tarnopol, in Austria, XXI. 81.
Tarnow, in Austria, XXI. 81.
Tarpa (Spurius Mecius), XXI. 81.
Tarpaulin, XXI. 81.
Tarporley, English town, XXI. 81.
Tarquinius Priscus, XIX. 364, 378.
   Superbus, XIX. 366.
Tarraco, XX. 491.
Tarragona, Spanish city, XXL 81—
siege of, in 1813, V. 534.
Tarras, XIV. 289.
Tarshish, X. 388, note.
Tarsius, in zoology, XIV. 97.
Tarsus, town in Asia Minor, XXI. 82.
 , in anatomy,—bones of the, II.
791, 792—muscles of the, 794—in the
mammalia. III. 9—in birds, 13—in
reptiles, 15.
Tartalea, his improvements in algebra,
I. 441 ; II. 422—on gunnery, XI. 42.
Tartar, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
 of the teeth, VI. 495.
Tartareus, lichen, VIII. 309.
Tartars, XXL 82; II. 710; III. 691,
695 ; XI. 482 ; XVII. 698 ; XX. 327
-—skulls of, II. 784—conquests of, in
Asia, III. 688—European embassies
to, in the middle ages, 697—cultiva¬
tion of astronomy by, 735—capture of
Bagdad by, IV. 280—the Chinese de¬
rived from, VI. 549—their mode of
warfare, 574—language of, XIII. 91—
Poland ravaged by, XVIII. 191—con¬
quest of Russia by, XIX. 532—Mos¬
cow burnt by, 536—defeated by the
Swedes, XXI. 20. See Tamerlane.
Tartaric acid, VI. 428—used for dis¬
charging colours, VIII. 340.
 tribes, XVII. 698.
Tartarous acid indispensable in wine¬
making, XXI. 894.
Tartarus, XV. 661, 671.
Tartary, XXI. 82—cattle of, III. 683
—Turcomans of, XXL 409. See
Tartars.
Tartas, Russian river, XXI. 87.
Tartaskoi, Russian town, XXI. 87.
Tartini on harmony, XI. 151; XV. 605.
Tarudant, in Morocco, XV. 508.
Tarven, in Cheshire, XXI. 87.
Tasapan, island, XX. 87.
Tashkund, in Tartary, XXI. 87.
Tasieva, Russian river, XXI. 87.
Tasman, his discovery of New Holland,
IV. 204, 205; and New Zealand, 215
—his account of the New Hollanders,
208-—Papua visited by, 211—explora¬
tory voyage of, X. 402.
Tasman’s Head, XXI. 87.
— Island, XXI. 87.
Tasmania. See Van Diemen’s Land.
Tassin (Leonard), anatomist, II. 700.
Tassisudon, Hindu city, XXI. 87.
Tasso (Torquato), XXI. 87 ; X. 295—
his table-talk, II. 677—translations
of his Jerusalem Delivered, by Fair¬
fax, IX. 477; and Hoole, XI. 557-
poetry of, XVIII. 144, 160.
 , or Thaso, island, XXI 191.
Tassoni (Alessandro), XXI. 88—poetry
of, XVIII. 161.
Taste, sense of, XXI. 88 ; XVII. 579,
663 ; XIV. 610—in the bee, IV. 523 ;
insects, IX. 78; fishes, XII. 158—
Hartley on, VIII. 443—organ of, II.
802 ; 111.26. See Tongue.
 , or perception and judgment of
beauty, XXI. 88; IV. 481—standard
of, 501 —sensible, fine, and moral,
XV. 481—diversity of, 642.
Tate (Nahum), English poet, XXI. 91
—on Shakspeare, XX. 170.
Tatianus, XXL 91.
Tatius (Achilles), XXL 91.
Tatischeva, in Russia, XXI. 91.
Tatta, in Hindustan, XXI. 91.
Tattershall, English town, XXI. 92.
Tattooing, XXI. 92.
Taubate, XVII. 162.
Tauda, Russian river, XXL 92.
Taujepoor, Hindu town, XXI. 93.
Taujicks, V. 697 ; XXL 85.
Taullah Mhokee, XXI. 93.
Taumago, island, XXL 93.
Taiinda, Hindu town, XXI. 93.
Taunton, in Somersetshire, XXL 93—
canal to Bridgewater, XVI. 9.
 , in Massachusetts, XIV. 305.
Taunus Mountains, XXI. 93.
Tauree, in Bengal, XXI. 93.
Tauria, in Russia, XXI. 93 ; VII. 471.
Taurica Chersonesus. See Tauria.
Taurichthys, fish, XII. 179.
Taurinum, taken by Hannibal, VI. 197,
Tauris, or Tabriz, XXI. 67.
Taurus, mountains, XXI. 93, 418.
Tavai Poenammoo, XXI. 93; IV. 215,
Tavernier (John Baptist), French tra¬
veller, XXI. 93.
Tavistock, in Devonshire, XXI. 94.
 Canal, XVI. 19.
Tavoy, Burmese town, XXI. 94.
Tavy, river, VII. 745.
Tawally (Isle of), XXI. 94.
Taweetawee, island, XXI. 94.
Tawing, XXI. 94.
Taxation, XXL 95; XVIII. 282 —
direct, XXI. 100—indirect, 110—an¬
ticipated benefit from reduction of
certain taxes, VII. 175—comparative
burden of taxes borne by agricultu¬
rists, 353—practice of taxation said to
150
INDEX
TAX—TCI
have been introduced by the Cru¬
sades, 492—connection between state
of agriculture and extent of, VIII.
767—in France, X. 208 ; India, XI.
407, 441, et seq.; Switzerland, XXI.
51 — income-tax, V. 487 ; repealed,
511 —property-tax, 521—territorial
impost in Lombardy, XIII. 483. See
Funding System.
Taxicornes, insects, IX. 165.
Taxonomy, V. 70.
Tay, a Scotch river, XXI. 124, 591;
XVII. 289 ; XIX. 747.
 (Loch), XVII. 289, 523.
 (Firth of), its navigation, XVI.
19—land reclaimed from, XIX. 747.
Taya Isle, XXI. 124.
Tayf, XXI. 70.
Taylor (Brook). XXI. 126; I. 598;
XIV. 322—new branch added by him
to the analysis of variable quantity,
I. 532—more remarkable for the in¬
genuity and depth than for the per¬
spicuity of his writings, 532—theo¬
rem known by hie name, ib.—the
only mathematician after Newton who
could enter the lists with the Ber-
noullis, 599—on capillary attraction,
615—on the force of adhesion, II. 151
—on magnetism, XIII. 688—on per¬
spective, XVII. 285—on projectiles,
XVIII. 649.
 (Dr), of Norwich, against creeds
and confessions, XII. 261—on origi¬
nal sin, XXI. 221, et seq.
 — (James), notice of, in connexion
with steam-navigation, XX. 687.
  — (Jeremy), XXI. 124—Bishop
Heber’s erroneous chronology of his
life, XVIII. 392, n.
 (John), philologer, XXI. 127-
 (Dr John), his translation of a
Hindu treatise on algebra, II. 425.
   (Mr), on the duration of our sup¬
ply of coal, XV. 244.
 (Philip), his experiments on the
force of steam, XX. 585.
   (Sir Robert), his merits as an
architect, III. 429.
 (T.), his alarm-clock, VI. 782.
 (Walter), of .Southampton, his
block-machinery, IV. 704.
Taylor’s Isles,.XXL 129.
Taylor’s Table of Logarithmic Sines and
Tangents, XIII. 420.
Tayming, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
Taze, Russian river, XXI. 129.
Tazla, Turkish lake, XXI. 129.
Tazovskaia (Gulf of), XXI. 129.
Tchabischi, Russian town, XXI. 129.
Tchad, African lake, II. 239 V. 11 ;
XVI '221, etseq.i XVII. 521—-pirates
on, IV. 636.
 , river, XVI. 221, et seq.
Tchadobetz, Russian rivei’, XXI. 129.
Tchagane, Russian river, XXI. 129.
Tchang-Tcha, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
Tohang-Tcheou, XXI. 129.
Tchang-Te, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
Tchan-Te, in China, XXI. 129.
Tchany, Russian lake, XXI. 129.
Tchaoking, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
Tche-Kiang, in China, XXI. 129.
Tchelao, Pei'sian town, XXI. 129.
Tcheliabinsk, in Russia, XXI. 129.
Tchelminar, ruins of. III. 378, 379.
Tcheng-Te, island, XXI. 129.
Tcheou-Chan, island, XXI. 129.
Tchepetkina, Russian river, XXI. 129.
Tchernikeh, in Asia Minor, XXI 129.
Tchetkina, island, XXL 129.
Tching-Kiang, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
TcHiNG-TcHEOu.Chinesecity, XXI. 129.
Tching-Ting, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
Tching-Tou, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
Tchong-King, Chinese city, XXL 129.
Tchors, Persian village, XXI. 129.
Tchooktches, XXI. 129.
Tchufut-Kali, VII. 472.
Tchukotskoie, cape, XXI. 129.
Tcinan, Chinese city, XXL 129.
Tcin-Tcheou, Chinese city, XXI. 129.
Tcitcicar Hotun, in China, XXI. 129.
TEA—TEL
Tea, XXI. 129-of Ava, IV. 240 ; Bra¬
zil, V. 206 ; China, VI. 580 ; Japan,
XII. 511—exports of, from Canton,
VI. 102—history of the duties on,
XXI. 120.
Teachers, XXI. 134—diseases of, XIV.
509. See Education.
Teak wood, XVI. 50; XX. 273 —of
Ava, IV. 241-of India, XXI. 299, 301
■—weight of, 309.
Teal, bird, XVI. 639.
Tears, gland secreting, II. 800.
Teary, Hindu village, XXI. 134.
Teazling of woollen cloth, XXI. 933.
Tebala, Arabian town, XXI. 134.
Tebeth, Jewish month, XXI. 134.
Technical, XXI. 134.
Tecrit, in Irak Arabi, XXI. 134.
Teddington, in Middlesex, XXI. 134.
Te Deum, Christian hymn, XXI. 134.
Tedif, Syrian town, XXI. 134.
Tedzen, Persian river, XXI. 134.
Teebaean, island, XXI. 134.
Teeheengan, island, XXI. 134.
Teekool, island, XXI. 134.
Tees, river, XXI. 134—attempted iron
bridge over the, V. 279—navigation
of the, XVI. 19.
Teesgaon, Hindu town, XXI. 134.
Teesta, Hindu river, XXI. 134.
Teeswater sheep, II. 328.
Teetgaum, Hindu town, XXI. 134.
Teeth, XXI. 134; II. 580, 780 ; XVII.
626—relation between food and, II.
708—structure and development of,
746, 781 ; XIV. 206 ; XVII. 657—
comparative anatomy of, III. 32—tar¬
tar of, VI. 495—of fishes, XII. 160 ;
serpents, XX. 126; horses, XXI. 621
—of man and brutes compared, XVII.
700—diseases of, in domestic animals,
XXL 622.
 of wheels, XIV. 420—in clocks
and watches, VI. 777.
Teff, kind of grain, XXI. 134.
Teflis, Asiatic city, XXI. 134 — trade
of, XVII. 246.
Tegadoo Bay, XXI. 136.
Tegerhy, IX. 533.
Tegmen, in botany, V. 46, 50.
Tehama, XXI. 136 ; III. 325.
Teheran, Persian city, XXI. 136.
Tehinchien, Hindu river, XXI. 136.
Tehuantepec, isthmus of, II. 651.
Teignmouth (West), town in Devon¬
shire, XXI. 136.
Teinds, in Scotland, XIX. 757, 764, n.
2—Court of, VIII. 418.
Teinoscope, XVI. 414.
Teivy, river, V. 771.
Tejuco, in Brazil, XV. 110.
Tekoa, in Palestine, XXI. 136.
Tel Aresias, Turkish village, XXI. 137.
Telach, Asiatic island, XXI. 137.
Telanading Islands, XXL 137.
Telaruse, in Malacca, XXI. 137.
Teledu, in zoology, XIV. 110.
Telegraph, XXI. 137—invention of,
II. 664—electrical, VIII. 582, 662—
Hooke’s, XI. 556—naval, XVI. 56—
Wheatstone’s electro-magnetic, XXI.
689.
Telemachus, XXI. 142.
Telephorus, insect, IX. 144.
Telescope, XXI. 142—invention of, I.
510 ; XIII. 329 ; XVI. 351, 354-
science thereby'advanced, I. 19—con¬
struction of, by Galileo, 490; III. 740;
X. 290—advantages arising from its
application to astronomical instru¬
ments, I. 497—law on which its con¬
struction depends discovered by Snel-
lius, 631—Was it known to the Celtic
priests? V. 277—magnifying power
of, XVI. 395—refracting telescope,
II. 35 ; XVI. 408—achromatic, II.
97 ; XVI. 362—astronomical, IV. 101
—Dorpat, 102—Sir James South’s,
103— Prof. Barlow’s,ib.—Mr Rogers’s,
104— Gregorian reflecting, XVI. 360
—Newtonian, ib.—Blair’s aplanatic,
413.
Teletzkoi, Siberian lake, XXI. 170.
TEL—TEN
Telfair (Mr), huge medusa seen by,
XXL 1015.
Telford (Thomas), XXI. 170—aque¬
ducts designed by, III. 323-4—iron
bridge in London proposed by, V. 272
—iron bridges executed by, 279—Dun-
keld bridge, 283.
Telingana, in Hindustan, XXI. 172.
Tell (William), XXI. 172.
Teller, XXL 172.
Tellez (Father), his history of Abyssi¬
nia, II. 53.
Tellicherry, Hindu sea-port on the
coast of Malabar, XXI. 172.
Tellina, in conchology, XV. 341.
Tello, town in Celebes, XXI. 172.
Tellurium, VI. 379—salts of oxide of,
VI. 453—specific gravity of, XII. 37
—native, XV. 164.
Tellurium-glance, XV. 169.
Tellurium-graphic, XV. 169.
Tembleque, Spanish town, XXI. 172.
Temeswar, in Hungary, XXI. 172.
Temia, bird, XVI. 585.
Temmink (Mens.), on birds, XVI. 551,
641—on the number of species of ani¬
mals, XVII. 549.
Temnodon, fish, XII. 186.
Temofeef (Yermac), XX. 324.
Tempe, vale of, XXI. 173; X. 723.
Temperament, XXI. 173; VIII. 442 ;
XVII. 583, 696.
 of the musical scale, XXI. 173 ;
VI. 254.
Temperance, XXI. 174 ; XV. 465—con¬
ducive to health, XIV. 509.
Temperature, Gay-Lussac’s observations
on its diminution with increase of
height, II. 193,194—sultry, in Arabia,
III. 324—its effect on cohesive force,
VI. Ill; and on the brilliancy of
flame, X. 356—natural variations of,
XI. 196—low at tops of mountains,
XII. 134—formulae for mean, XVII.
543—isothermal lines, ib.; XI. 197,
371, 377 ; VI. 764—effect of latitude,
longitude, and elevation, upon, XIV.
511; XVII. 543—of animals, 647 ;
reptiles, 713; insects, 721—Sir D.
Brewster on mean temperature at
North Pole, XVIII. 223. See Climate,
Heat, Warming.
i Tampering, XXI. 174—of steel, VII.
566; XX. 713.
Tempio, Sardinian city, XXL 174.
Templars, knights, XXI. 174 ; X. 15.
Temple (Sir W.), XXL 175—on Ancient
and Modern Learning, IV. 575—his
character of De Wit, VII. 754—on the
mercantile prosperity of Holland, 169
—on gardening, X. 321—Swift’s resi¬
dence in his house, XXL 34.
Temples, XXI. 177—Greek, III. 435—
Roman, 443—dedication of, VII. 666.
 , or inns of court,in London, XXL
178; XII. 282; XIII. 527.
Templecross, XXI. 863.
Temporal bones, II. 775; IIL 4, 5.
Temporalities of bishops, XXI. 178.
Temujin, or Genghis-Khan, XV. 316.
See Genghis-Khan.
Tenacity of minerals, XV. 131—of me¬
tals, woods, &c., XX. 756-7—table of
tenacities of different substances, 296.
Tenaille, in fortification, IX. 773.
Tenant, connexion of landlord and, II.
343—tenantry of the middle ages, 252.
See Lease.
Tenasserim, XXI. 178.
Tenbury, In Worcester, XXI. 178.
Tenby, Welsh town, XXI. 179.
Tence, French city, XXI. 179.
Tench, XII. 198—angling for, HI. 146.
Tench’s Island, XXI. 179.
Tencin (Madame de), character of her
novels, XIX. 353.
Tendency, XVII. 571.
Tendons, XVII. 581, 603, 610 ; XXL
615—structure of, II. 739—sheaths of
XVII. 603.
Tendrils, III. 86 ; XXI. 580.
Tenebrio, insect, IX. 164.
‘ Tenebrionites, insects, IX. 164.
TEN—TER
Tenedos, island, XXI. 179.
Teneriffe, XXI. 179—Blake’s attack
on the Spanish fleet at, IV. 673—peak
of, VI. 73.
Tengalle, in Ceylon, XXI. 179.
Teniers, painters of that name, XXI.
179; III. 650 ; XVI. 722.
Tenioides, fish, XII. 193,
Tenison (Thomas), XXL 179.
Tennant (Charles), his bleaching sub¬
stances, IV. 681 682, 684—on the
loss of weight sustained by linen in
bleaching, 689.
 (Smithson), XXI. 179.
Tennantite, in mineralogy, XV. 168—
specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Tenneman (Professor), his History of
Philosophy, V. 611.
Tennessee, XXI. 182—bonds of, 479.
Tennis, XXL 184; XVII. 113.
Tenny, in heraldry, XI 244.
Tenon and mortise, oblique, VI. 167.
Tenoning, in carpentry, V. 683.
Tenses, XXL 184 ; X. 657, 684, 691.
Tensift, river, XV. 503.
Tent, XXI. 184—Arabian, III. 335.
Tentacula, XV. 324.
Tenterden, in Kent, XXI. 184.
Tenthredinetse, insects, IX. 217.
Tenthredo, insect, IX. 217.
Tentorium, II. 811 ; III. 32.
Tentyria, insect, IX. 163.
Tentyris, ruins of, VIII. 542.
Tenuirostres, birds, XVI. 588.
Tenure, in law, XXI. 184.
Teos, Ionian city, XXL 184.
Tepals, in botany, V. 43.
Tequendama, waterfall of, III. 118;
IV. 732; XVII. 525.
Teramo, Italian city, XXI. 184.
Tercera, island, XXI. 184 ; IV. 263.
Tercero, river, XVIII. 5.
Tercine, III. 101.
Terebella, worm, XI. 218.
Terebellum, in conchology, XV. 346.
Terebra, in conchology, XV. 347.
Terebrantia, insects, IX. 217.
Terebratula, in conchology, XV. 344,
365.
Teredo, in conchology, XV. 349.
Terek, river, XXI. 184 ; XIX. 565.
Terence (Publius), XXL 184; XVII.
411—comedies of, VIII. 151—poetry
of, XVIII. 153.
Terentia, wife of Cicero, VI. 693.
Terentius Varro, VI. 198.
Teres, in horses, XXI. 627.
Tergoyista, Turkish town, XXL 185.
Terki, Russian fortress, XXL 185.
Term, XXI. 185—academical terms at
Oxford, 498; Cambridge, 503; and
Dublin, 524.
Termes, insect, IX. 99, 213 ; II. 229.
Terminal, in architecture, III. 470.
Termination Island, XXI. 185.
Termini, city, XXI. 185; XV. 700.
 , in architecture, XXI. 185.
Terminus, Pagan deity, XXI. 185.
Termitinre, insects, IX. 213.
Tern, bird, XVI. 633.
Ternate, island, XXI. 185.
Terni, Italian town XXI. 185.
Ternstroemiace®, in botany, V. 100.
Terpander, Greek poet, XXL 185.
Terpsichore, XV. 603.
Terra Australis Incognita, supposed
southern continent, XXI. 186.
Terra japonnica, dye-stuff, VIII- 320-
specific gravity of, XII. 37—its use
in tanning, XXI. 77.
Terra-Nova,'XXL 186; XV. 702.
Terra Orleana, III. 235.
Terracina, XXL 186 ; XVII. 3.
Terrae, or Terrai, XXI. 186; XL 375.
Terrasson (John), XXI. 186.
Terre-Napoleon, XXI. 186.
Terre-Verte, XXL 186.
Terriani, or Terreeana, in Hindustan,
XXL 186 ; XL 375.
Terrier, XL 707.
Terroweh, Hindu town, XXL 186.
Tertiary rocks, XV. 210; XVII. 509.
Tertullian Q, S. F.), XXL 187"
INDEX,
151
TER-THA
his execration of the anatomical re¬
searches of Herophilus, II. 688—on
the theatre, VIII. 152.
Tercel, in Spain, XXI. 187.
Terdncius, Roman coin, XXI. 187.
Ter Veere, XXI. 566.
Tervengary, Hindu town, XXI. 187.
Terzetto, in music, XXI. 187.
Teschen, in Moravia, XXI. 187.
Teseuco, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Teshoo Loomboo, XXI. 187, 256, 257
Tessarops, arachnides, III. 363.
Tesselated Pavement, XXI. 187.
Tessera, XXI. 187.
Tesseratoma,insect, IX. 196.
Tessin, Swiss canton, XXI. 188.
Tessocwa, in Fezzan, XXI. 188.
Test of English Church, XVI. 760.
Test Act, XXI. 188—passing of the, V.
347—attempts in 1787. 1790, and
1791, to getit repealed, 443,457, 459
—its repeal, 573.
Testa, in botany, V. 46, 50.
Testacea, XV. 329—hermaphrodites
among the. III. 158.
Testace I la, mollusca, XV. 357.
Testament, XXI. 188 ; VI. 709.
Testi (Fulvio), poetry of, XVIII. 161.
Testicles, II. 824 ; XVII. 687—their
position in the foetus, II. 703.
Testimony, as a ground of human judg
ment, XIII. 439, 440—-evidence of,
XIV. 641—value of, XVIII. 593, 612
—argument from, XIX. 207. See
Probability.
'estu’s aerial voyage, II. 189.
’ESTUDO, XXI. 188—reptile, XIX. 128
’etanocera, insect, IX. 289.
1'etanops, insect, IX. 286.
'etanura, insect, IX. 287.
'etanus in animals, XXI. 634.
etarto-carbo-hydrogen, VI. 371.
'etbory, in Gloucester, XXI. 188.
'etes-de-pont, IX. 786.
ethuroa, island, XXI. 188.
'etrachord, XXI. 188.
'etragnatha, arachnides, III. 361.
'etragonopterus, fish, XII. 212.
'etragonurus, fish, XII. 192.
etramera, insects, IX. 170.
etrao, bird, XVI. 611.
etraodon, fish, XII. 228.
 electricus, VIII. 614.
etrapterus, fish, XII. 184.
etrarcii, XXI. 188.
etrarhynchus,zoophyte, XXI. 996.
etrastoma, zoophytes, XXI. 99 7.
etrastobn, in architecture, III. 470.
etrastyle, XXI. 189 ; HI. 471.
etrix, insect, IX. 194.
ettigometra, insect, IX. 203.
ettigonia, insect, IX. 204.
ettua Motu, cape, XXI. 189.
jetuan, in Morocco, XV. 504.
eulSre’s lighthouse-reflectors, XX. 18.
eutones, XXI. 189—their war with
the Romans, XIX. 392 ; VI. 697.
ectonic, XXI. 189.
”7 Knights, XXI. 189—in Prus¬
sia, XVIII. 670.
cvego, XVII. 59.
wiot, XIX. 511.
ewkesbcry, in Gloucestershire, XXI.
189—battle of, VIII. 737.
was, XIV. 819—invasion of, by Gu-
wrrez, 786—settlement of, 793 —
rupture of, with Mexico, 794.
exel, island, XXI. 189.
ext, XXI. 189.
extcre, XXI. 189.
eyus, reptile, XIX. 139.
hais, insect, IX. 241.
halaraiflorcs, in botany, V. 41.
11a^S’ ^—his philosophy, III.
^-astronomy, 727—mathematical
knowledge, X. 422; XIV. 313.
C*tt ller V*s‘t to Alexander the
threat, II. 589.
ofLvmXn,1- 190 ; XV' 603—-statue
ot< VIII. Plate 194.
uame, English town, XXI. 190.
Xlu'HT’ XXI‘ 190 ? vm- 760;
2; XV. 60—sailing of the
u
THA—THE
Dutch fleet up the, V. 344—tunnel
under the, XIII. 512 ; XXI. 403, 407
—navigation of the, XVI. 19, 687
Thames and Medway Canal, 20
Thames and Severn Canal, ib.
Thames, river in N. Zealand, XXL 190
Thamnophilus, bird, XVI. 568.
Thanasir, Hindu town, XXI. 190.
Thane, XXI. 190.
Thanet (Isle of), XXL 190; XII. 694
Thann, French city, XXL 191.
Thapsus, battle of, XIX. 398.
Tharymbas I. and II., kings of Epirus,
IX. 312.
Thaso, island, XXL 191.
Thatcham, English town, XXL 191.
Thavies’ Inn, XII. 282; XIII. 528.
Thaxted, in Essex, XXL 191.
Theaki, or Ithaca, XII. 341.
Theatines, religious order, XXI. 191.
Theatre, XXI. 191—ancient Greek
theatres, III. 416, 437; IV. 120—Ro
man, HI. 444—old English, XVIII.
49—acclamations in ancient theatres,
II. 87—law respecting theatrical re
presentations in China, VI. 558—de¬
clamation of the, VII. 664—decora¬
tions of, 665—monopoly of the tw-o
great London theatres, VIII. 178.
See Drama, Playhouse, Actor, Dublin,
Edinburgh, Paris, &c.
Thebes, in Greece, XXI. 194—army of,
HI. 588—taken and destroyed by
Alexander, XIII. 630.
 , in Egypt, XXI. 199—ruins of,
III. 409, 410, 411; VIII. 535—de¬
struction of, 473.
Thebith Ben Korah, III. 734.
Thecadactyli, reptiles, XIX. 147.
Thecaphore, in botany, V. 44.
Theft, or larceny, XIH. 113.
Theionaphthalic acid, VI. 431.
Theiovinic acid, VI. 431.
Thelphusa, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Thelyphonus, arachnides, HI. 364.
Themistius, Greek orator, XXI. 199.
Themistocles, XXI. 200 ; IV. 150,
151, 152—his expedition against An¬
dros', III. 126—Athens improved by,
IV. 114.
Thenard’s analysis of sugar, V. 247.
Thenardite, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Theobald (Lewis), XXI. 200.
Theocracy, XXI. 200.
Theocritus, XXL 200 — poetry of,
XVIII. 152—Warton’s edition of his
works, XXL 780.
Theodicy, XIV. 600.
Theodolite, mathematical instrument,
XXI. 200—Ramsden’s, 354.
Theodore (Baron Nieuchof), Gorman
adventurer, XXI. 200.
Theodoretus, XXI. 201.
Theodoric, king of Metz, X. 4.
 ■, king of the Ostrogoths, XII.
464; XIX. 424; XX. 493.
Theodoras, geometrician, XYHI. 13.
Theodosian code, VI. 713.
Theodosians, III. 127.
Theodosius, Roman emperor, VII. 279 ;
XIX. 419—reproved by St Ambrose,
II. 602—Antioch oppressed by, III.
253.
  II., Roman emperor, XIX. 421.
 , Roman general, XIX. 418.
, ancient mathematician, X. 426
THE—THI
Theophilus, one of the compilers of Jus¬
tinian’s Institutes, VI. 717.
■, bishop of Alexandria, VII. 279.
Theophrastus, XXI. 235 ; HI. 494
on astronomy, 729—on geometry, X.
425—his character of the supersti¬
tious man, XX. 812.
Theophylact, religious dramas intro¬
duced by, VIII. 153.
Theopompus, XXL 236 ; XX. 525.
Theorbo, XXI. 236.
Theorem, XXL 236 ; X. 433; XIII.
445.
Theory, XXL 236 ; XVII. 440, 443.
Theosophists, XXI. 236.
Theramenes, IV. 159, 161.
Therapeut/e, XXI. 236.
Therapeutics, XXI. 236.
Therapon, fish, XII. 169.
Thereva, insect, IX. 266.
Theridion, arachnides, III. 380.
Therina, insect, IX. 291.
Therm*, XXI. 236—Roman, XIX. 429.
Thermal springs, XVII. 528 ; XX. 550.
Thermia, island, XXI. 236.
Thermo-electricity, XXI. 695-^discovery
of, VIII. 574.
Thermometer, XXI. 236—invention of,
I. 640; IV. 392; X. 289, n. — conse¬
quences of invention, I. 544—used to
ascertain the mode of the propagation
of heat amongst different bodies, 651
—height of, in connection with at¬
mospherical refraction, IV. 100—suc¬
cessive improvements on, 393—appli¬
cation of, in barometrical measure¬
ments, 398—adjustment of, VI. 262
—Dr Dalton on scale of, XII. 116—
its use in meteorology, XIV. 724, 744
—how to be placed for meteorologi¬
cal purposes, XVII. 530 — register
thermometers, ib. ; I. 647—metallic
thermometers, ib.—electrical air-ther¬
mometer, VIII. 662—permanence of
the boiling point, XX. 572.
(Differential), VI. 757, 760;
—on spherics, XIV. 315.
Theodota, XX. 440.
Theogont, XXI. 201.
Theognis, Greek poet, XXI. 201.
Theology, XXL 202. See Religion.
 (Metaphysical), XIV. 600.
  (Natural), XXI. 202 ; XVII.
561, 575—Paley on, XVI. 762—appli¬
cation of physiology to, XVII. 588—
Socrates’s admiration of, XX. 455,
469—Epicurean errors of Lamarck,
III. 176-8, n.—wonders disclosed by
the microscope, 184. See God.
Theon of Alexandria, X. 427.
, Greek painter, XVI. 704.
Theophanes, XIX. 528.
Theophilus, anatomist, II. 691.
VII. 60 ; XIV. 725; XIII. 244 ; XXI.
239—invention of, I. 647.
Thermopyl*, XXI. 242 ; X. 723—fre¬
quently defended by the Amphicty-
ons, II. 667—defended by Leonidas,
XX. 525.
Thermuthis, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554.
Thero, II. 356.
Therwara, Hindu town. XXI. 243.
Thesea, Athenian feasts, XXL. 243.
Theseus, XXI. 243 — temple of, in
Athens, IV. 117—reign of, 143—dance
instituted by, VII. 6J4.
Thesiger (Sir F.), V. 502.
Thesis, XXI. 243.
Thespis, XXI. 243—the Greek drama
improved by, VIII. 144.
Thessaly, XXI. 243; X. 723—its af¬
fairs settled by Philip, XIII. 624.
Tiietford, in Norfolk, XXL 243.
Thetis, wife of Oceamis, XXI. 243.
Thethys, molluscum, XV. 360.
Theurgy, XXI. 248.
Theutidse, fishes, XII. 189.
Thiagur, Hindu town, XXI. 24 3.
Thibet. See Tibet.
Thible, an aeronaut, II. 188.
Thiebaut (Monsieur), his classification
of books, IV. 631.
Thierri, X. 4, 5.
Thiers, in France, XXI. 243.
Thigh, muscles of the, II. 793.
Thigh-bone, in man, II. 789—its upper
joint, 791—in the mammalia, III. 9—
in birds, 13.
Thimbric-Kouy, XXI. 24 3.
Thionville, in France, XXI. 243.
Thirsk, in Yorkshire, XXI. 244.
Thirst, XL 732; XVII. 626,662.
Thirsty Sound, XX. 244.
Thirty-nine Articles, petition against
subscription to the, V. 395.
Thirty Years’ War, XXI. 18.
Thirwall, XXL 244.
Thistle (Order of tlie), XXL 244.
Thistle’s Island, XXI. 244.
Thistles of Buenos Ayres, V. 640.
THI—THE
Thistlewood (Arthur), his plot, V. 548.
Thive, in Greece, XXL 199.
Tholobate, in architecture, HI. 471.
Tholus, in architecture, III. 471.
Thomar, in Portugal, XXI. 244.
Thomas of Erceldoune, XXI. 244.
 (George), IV. 450, 609.
 (St), island, XX. 660.
  (Monsieur), his liloge de Des¬
cartes, I. 243, 247.
Thomas’s (St), Hospital, XIII. 513.
Thomasius, his attack on the doctrine
of witchcraft, III. 299.
Thomastown, XXI. 245.
Thome (St), XIX. 615.
Thomisus, arachnides. III. 362.
Thompson (Sir Benj.), Count Rumford,
XXI. 245 — on the importance of
cookery, VIII. 25—on flannel cloth¬
ing, IX. 614—on gunnery. XL 58, 85
—on the adhesion of fluids, XII. 45—
his lamp, XIII. 44—his photometer,
335—on latent heat, XX. 601.
Thompson’s rope-machinery, XIX. 466.
Thomson (Dr Allen), on generation,
XVII. 686, et seq.
  (James), English poet, XXI.
248—dramatic works of, VIII. 174-
poetry of, XVIII. 172.
 (James), on the spider, HI. 355.
 — (Dr Thomas), of Glasgow, on
sal-ammoniac, II. 659.
(Dr Todd), on the leaves of
plants, XXI. 576.
Thomsonite, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Thor, XXL 25i.
Thoracic duct, II. 729, 698, 818 ; XVII.
582, 632, 653.
Thoracici, fishes, their fins and pelvis,
III. 17, 18.
Thorax, human, XVII. 614—Galen’s de¬
scription of, II. 690—regions of, 757
—bones, 764—muscles, 794—nerves,
812—its structure with reference to
breathing, XVIII. 122.
 of mammalia, HI. 3—reptiles,
14—insects, IX. 71.
Thorda, in Hungary, XXI. 251.
Thorina, VI. 402.
Thorium, VI. 401.
Thorlacius, VII. 731.
Thorley, Mr, his hive, III. 283—on the
management of hives, IV. 536.
Thorn, Prussian city, XXI. 251.
Thorns of plants, HI. 69—of trees, 88
—functions of, XXI. 580.
Thornback, fish, XII. 235.
Thornbury, English town. XXI. 251.
Thorne, in Yorkshire, XXI. 251.
Thornhill (Sir James), English paint¬
er, XXI. 251 ; XVI. 725.
 , Scottisli village, XXI. 252.
Thorough Bass, in music, XXI. 252.
Thorough-pin, XXI. 617.
Thorout, in Flanders, XXI. 252.
Thorverton, in Devon, XXI. 252.
Thorwaldsen, XX. 9.
Thoth, XXL 252; VIII. 552 ; XL 320 ;
XV. 681; XVII. 377,429,430; XVIII.
335. See Hermes.
Thothmosis, VIII. 463.
Thou (J. A. de). See Thuanus.
Thouin (M.), botanist, V. 87, 91.
Thouret (Monsieur), on animal magnet¬
ism, XIV. 3, 15.
Thrace, XXI. 252—mines in, XV. 242.
Thracians, XVII. 395—their language,
ib., 417.
Thrapston, English town, XXI. 252.
Thrasher, in zoology, XIV. 178.
Thrashing. See Threshing.
Thrasybulus, IV. 159, etseq.-, XXL 55
—clemency of, VI. 735.
Thrasyllus, architecture of the choragic
monument of, III. 436.
Thrasymenus, battle of, VI. 197.
Thread of spider, III. 356. See Spin¬
ning, Cotton-manufacture, Silk-manu¬
facture, Woollen-manufacture.
Three Bodies, problem of the, III. 749 ;
IV. 57.
Three Hills Island, XXL 252.
Three Hummock Island, XXI. 252.
152
INDEX
THR—TIC
Three Islands, XXI. 253.
Three Kings, XXI. 253.
Three Points Cape, XXI. 253.
Three Rivers, XXI. 253.
Thresher, fish, XII. 232.
Threshing, or thrashing, XXI. 252—of
wheat, II. 281—carts anciently em¬
ployed in, VI. 179.
Threshing-machines, II. 268, 352; XIV.
418, 431—invention of, II. 262; VI.
720—improved by Meikle, II. 263.
Thrips, insect, IX. 205.
Thrombus in animals, XXI. 632.
Throne, XXI. 253.
Throstle, VII. 402 ; X. 556 ; XX. 539.
Throwing-machine, XX. 348.
Thrush, in ornithology—Chilian, VI.
526—ant, XVI. 573—glossy, 572—
missel, 571—pagoda, 574—song, 571.
• , a disease of horses, XXI. 620.
Thryssa, fish, XII. 216.
Thuanus (J. A.), XXI. 253—his Table-
Talk, II. 695 —his character of George
Ruchanan, V. 633.
Thucydides, historian, XXI. 253.
Thueris, Egyptian deity, VIII. 553.
Thugs of India, XI. 397.
Thule, XXI. 254 ; X. 390; XI. 201;
XVIII. 761 ; XXI. 987.
Thumb, opposition of fingers and, II.
796. See Fingers.
Thummim, XXI. 531.
Thun, lake of, XXI. 46—its tempera¬
ture, VI. 749.
Thunberg’s botanical labours, V. 75—
Ids account of Japan, XII. 513.
Thunder, XXI. 254 ; XII. 135—sound
of, II. 119—an electrical phenomenon,
VIII. 569—cause of the rolling of,
619—distance of, ib.
Thunder-rods, VIII. 646.
Thunder-storms, VII. 3.
Thunder bolt, XXI. 254 ; VIII. 619.
Thurgau, Swiss canton, XXI. 254, 49
—education in, 50.
Thuringia, in Germany, XXI. 254.
Thurles, XXI. 316.
Thurlow (Lord), V. 435.
Thurocz, in Hungary, XXI. 254.
Thurrock-Grays, XXI. 254.
Thursday, XXI. 254—origin of the
word, XVIII. 337.
Thurso, XXI. 254 ; V. 781.
Thylacinus, in zoology, XIV. 127.
Thymaetes, IV. 143.
Thymallus, fish, XII. 210—angling for,
III. 144.
Thymalus, insect, IX. 148.
Thymeleae, in botany, V. 127.
Thynnus, fish, XII. i 82.
 , insect, IX. 229.
Thyreophora, insect, IX. 288.
Thyris, insect, IX. 244.
Thyroid cartilage, II. 805.
Thyrsites, fish, XII. 183.
Thyrsus, XXI. 254.
 , in botany, V. 41.
Thysanoura, insects, IX. 60, 294.
Tiara, XXI. 254 ; XI. 256.
Tibaldi, painter, XVI. 720, 721.
Tibbermore, battle of, V. 327.
Tibboos, II. 224; IX. 376.
Tiber, Italian river, XXI. 254; XII.
285; XVII. 3, 5.
Tiberias, XVI. 744—Jewish archate of,
XII. 576—lake of, XVII. 522 ; XVI.
744—battle of, 756.
Tiberius Caesar, reign of, XIX. 401.
Tibet, XXI. 254—climate of, III. 679—
language, XIII. 81—heights of moun¬
tains, XVII. 505.
Tibia, or shin-bone, in man, II. 790,
792—in the mammalia, III. 9—birds,
13—reptiles, 15,
Tibullus (Albius), Roman poet, XXI.
258 ; XVIII. 154.
Tibur, in Latium, XXI. 259.
Ticao Isle, XXI. 259.
Tichfield, in Hampshire, XXI. 259.
Tiehodroma, bird, XVI. 588.
Ticino, Swiss canton, XXI. 188,
Ticinus, battle of, VI. 197.
Tick, in sheep, XXI. 637.
TIC—TIM
Tickary, Hindu town, XXI. 259.
Tickell (Thomas), poet, XXI. 259.
Tickhill, in Yorkshire, XXI. 259.
Ticoo Islands, XXI. 259.
Ticos, island, XXI. 259.
Tides, XXI. 259; I. 662-3; XVII. 517
—explanation of, by Newton, I. 563
—discussions respecting earth’s figure
led to examination of theory of, 662
—Kepler on cause of, III. 740—La¬
place on, 752—singular phenomena
of, in the Forth,.VI. 720—in refer¬
ence to navigation, XV. 753—influ¬
ence of, on vegetation, XVI. 263—
little felt in the Baltic and Mediterra¬
nean Seas, XVII. 520 — velocity of
tide-wave, XV. 178.
Tide-clock, Ferguson’s, VI. 778.
Tide-gauge, XXI. 286.
Tide-lock, XVI. 32.
Tide-tables, XXI. 284.
Tideswell, in Derbyshire, XXI. 287.
Tidore (isle of), XXL 287.
Tie-beam, strain on, VI. 159.
Tieck, German poet, XVIII. 168—ro¬
mances of, XIX. 357, 358.
Tiedemann on the lymphatics, II. 729
—on the echinodermata, XXI. 1000
—on phosphorescent medusce, 1016.
Tierney (Mr), his opposition to Fitt’s
navy bill, V. 483—his duel with Pitt,
4 84—on the expedition to Holland,
494—his motion for an inquiry into
the state of the nation, 544.
Tierra del Espiritu Santo, IV. 214.
Tierra del Fuego, XVII. 117.
Tiflis, XXI. 134; III. 699.
Tiga, island, XXI. 287.
Tiger, XIV. 121—of Asia, III. 682 ;
Hindustan, XI. 382 ; Sumatra, XX.
803—tiger-shooting, 302.
Tiger-moth, IX. 248.
Tight, meaning of the word, VIII. 13.
Tiglath-pileser, III. 717.
Tigranes, king of Armenia, III. 574 ;
XVIII. 355 ; XIX. 395.
Tigre, in Abyssinia, II. 58.
Tigris, river, XXI. 287—navigation of
the, IV. 279.
Tiguil, river, XXI. 288.
Tilburg, in Belgium, XXI. 288.
Tilbury, in Essex, XXI. 288.
Tilenus (Daniel), his disputation with
Cameron, VI. 39.
Tiles, paving and roofing with, V. 671
—for drains, VIII. 139.
Tiliaeese, in botany, V. 100.
Tillage, II. 275. See Ploughing.
Tilley (Mr), his water-pressure blow¬
pipe for glass-blowers, IV. 715.
Tillotson (John), XXL 288, 886.
Tillouta, Hindu town, XXI. 288.
Tilly (Count), his military operations
against Gustavus Adolphus, XXI. 18
—defeated and killed, 19.
Tilsit, XXL 288—treaty of, X. 147;
XVIII. 684 ; XIX. 559 ; V. 523.
Tima an, island, XXI. 288.
Timahet, Hindu town, XXI. 288.
Timanthes, paintings of, XVI. 701.
Timarcha, insect, IX. 184.
Timber, XXL 289—anciently the prin¬
cipal material of houses, III. 407—
sawing of, V. 691; VIII. 83; XIX.
663—destruction of, by the Limnoria
terebrans, VII. 502—dry rot in, VIII.
77, 78, 226; XVI. 47; XX. 273—
common rot in, VIII. 227—seasoning
of, 229—winter felled, 230—effects of
its immersion in sand, earth, or water,
231—its impregnation with foreign
substances, 232—Pliny on the pre¬
servation of, ib.—examples of long
duration of, 233—imports of, into the
United Kingdom, 784-5—for ships,
XVI. 48 ; XX. 272—supply of, XVI.
49—decay of, XX. 272—means of
preserving, 274—time for felling, ib.
—expansion of deal rods by moisture,
XXI. 352—timbers of a house, V.
683. See Building, Carpentry, Join¬
ery, Plantations, Planting, Wood.
Timber-trade, VIII. 784-5—effect of pro-
TIM—TIE
hibiting duties on the trade with Nor¬
way and Canada, VI. 62—New Bruns¬
wick trade, XVI. 149.
Timbuctoo, African town, XXI. 310.
Time, XXI. 310—views of philosophers
regarding the nature of, 1.142; XIV.
664, 667—measure of, III. 775—equa¬
tion of, 776—table for converting in¬
tervals of sidereal into intervals of
mean solar time, IV. 99—machines
for measuring small intervals of, VI.
783—table of its equation for every
day in the year, VII. 780—use of
pendulum in measuring, XVII. 188—
geological time, XV. 240.
 , in music, IV. 475.
Time-piece, XI. 565.
Timerycotta, XXI. 310.
Txmia, insect, IX. 287.
Timocharis on astronomy, III. 730.
Timocrates, XX. 527.
Timoleon, his military operations in Si-
cily, VI. 186; XXI. 56.
Timomachus, painter, XVI. 704.
Timon, XXI. 310.
Timor (East), island, XXI. 311—ser
pents of, XX. 137.
Timor Laut, island, XXI. 311.
Timotheus, XXI. 311.
Timothy no bishop, XVIII. 524.
Timour. See Tamerlane.
Timpani. See Kettle-drum.
Tin, VI. 413 — Phoenician trade with
Britain for, V. 297—its compounds
with copper, 185 ; VI. 416—salts of
oxides of, 450—use of its oxides as
mordants, VIII. 303, 314, 339—its
chlorides used in calico-printing, 339,
340—specific gravity of, XII. 37—its
muriate poisonous, XIV. 502—cohe¬
sion of, XX. 757—tinning of iron
plates, XIII. 119 ; XXL 312.
Tin-beaters, IV. 474.
Tin-mines of Barca, IV. 339—Britain,
XV. 246—the Continent, 251—Corn¬
wall, VII. 367—England, VIII. 769
—Europe, IX. 409—Junkseylon, XII.
631.
Tin-ore, in mineralogy, XV. 161.
Tinamou, bird, XVI. 612.
Tinea, fish, XII. 198—angling for, III.
146.
Tinchebrai, battle of, VIII. 715.
Tinctures, in heraldry, XI. 244.
Tindal (Matthew), XXI. 311—Simon
Brown’s defence of Christianity
against, V. 596—his legacy to Eustace
Budgell, 638.
 (Nicholas), XXL 311.
 (William). See Tyndale.
Tine, Turkish island, XXI. 312.
Tinea, insect, IX. 252.
Tineites, insects, IX. 251.
Tingano, river, XXI. 312.
Tingi Islands, XXI. 312.
Tingis, insect, IX. 197.
Tingoran, island, XXI. 312;
Tingtcheou, Chinese city, XXI. 312.
Tinian, island, XXI. 312.
Tinnevelly, XXI. 312.
Tinning, XXL 312; XIII. 119.
Tintern, XXI. 312—Abbey, X. 335.
Tintoretto, painter, XVI. 718.
Tiperah, in Bengal. XXI. 312.
Tiphia, insect, IX. 229.
Tipperary, Irish county, XXI. 312.
Tippermuir, battle of, V. 327.
Tippoo Saib, XI. 423, ct seq.; XIV. 51
—war with, V. 460, 462—fall of, 488
—bis measures in Canara, VI. 70, 72.
Tipstaff, XXL 316.
Tipton, in Staffordshire, XXI. 316.
Tipula, insect, IX. 261.
Tipularise, insects, IX. 258.
Tiranas, XXI. 316.
Tireh, in Asia Minor, XXL 316.
Tirey, Scotch island, XXI. 316.
Tirhoot, in Hindustan, XXI. 316.
Tiridates, XVII. 260.
Tirlemont, in Louvain, XXI. 316—
battle of, V. 370.
Tirolese, XXI. 316.
Tiroon, V. 10.
TIS—TOK
Tissaphernes, IV. 159.
Tissues of human body, II. 712-flla.
mentons or cellular, 702, 713 ; XVII.
507—adipose, ib.; II. 715—arterial,
716—venous, 719 —erectile, 725—
nervous, 731—cutaneous, 750—mu¬
cous, 751—serous, 754.
 , cellular, of plants, III. 57.
 , animal, III. 158 ; XVII, 596.
Titans, XXI. 316 ; VII. 463.
Titanic acid, VI. 391—salts of, 454.
Titanite, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Titanium, VI. 391—ore, XV. 168.
Tithes, in ecclesiastical law, XXI. 317,
112—injurious to agriculture, II.
349—in England, V1I1.788—in Scot-
land, XIX. 764, n. 2.
Tithing, XXL 317.
Tithrambo, Egyptian deity, VIII. 554,
Titiano Vecelli, Italian painter, XXI,
317; III. 648,655, 657; XVI. 703,704,
717 — his estimation of the genus of
Corregio, II. 521.
Titicaca, American lake, III. 116; IV.
746 ; XVII. 522 ; XVIII. 739.
Title, XXI. 318.
Tit-mouse, XVI. 579.
Titular, XXI. 318.
Titus Vespasian us, Roman emperor,
XXL 318 ; XIX. 405—arch of, III.
461—clemency of, VI. 735—Jerusa¬
lem taken and destroyed by, XII,
575 ; XVI. 752.
 (Colonel), his work entitled
Killing no Murder, V. 338.
Tiverton, in Devonshire, XXL 318—
lace-manufacture at, VII. 746.
Tivey, river, VI. 137.
Tivokea, island, XXI. 318.
Tivoli, XXL 318—temple of Vesta at,
HI. 418, 448, 460—villa of Adrian
near, 444.
Tize, Persian sea-port, XXI. 318.
Tjidanee, river, XXI. 318.
Tlascala, XIV. 768.
Tlatelolcos, XIV. 760.
Tmesisternus, insect, IX. 179.
Toads, XIX. 156—their power of fast¬
ing, III. 167.
Toaldo (Signior), on the moon’s influ¬
ence on the weather, XV. 442.
Tobacco, XVI. 208—Brazilian, V. 206
— Egyptian, VIII. 525—Greek, X.
727, 731—Indian, XI. 381—Mexican.
XIV. 801—of the United States, XXI.
463—of Virginia, 649—tax on, V. 378
—management of the duty on, trans¬
ferred to the excise, 455—alkali in,
VI. 468—effect of custom in the use
of, VII. 560—allays hunger, XI. 131
—useful in destroying insects, XR
294—poisonous, XIV. 506.
Tobacco-Pipes, manufacture of, XXI.
318—earth of which made, VI. 698-
Hookah-pipe, XI. 554.
Tobago, island, XXI. 319—culture of
the bread-fruit in, V. 213.
Tobermory, in Mull, XV. 591.
Tobol, Russian river, XXL 320.
Tobolsk, XXI. 320; XIX. 587, 588.
Tobosa, Spanish village, XXL 321.
Tocantins, river, V. J98.
Tocat, in Asia Minor, XXI. 321.
Toccata, in music, XXI. 321.
Tockenburg, XXI. 321.
Tocuyo river, XXI. 591.
Todawars, XI. 398.
Todd (J. T.), on the torpedo, VIII-G'-
Todd (Col.), on the Rajpoots, XI. 396'
439, 440—on Hindu literature,408-
on Oudeypoor, XVI. 675.
Toddington, XXI. 321.
Toderies, XI. 398.
Todus, bird, XVI. 593.
Toes (human), hones of, II. 791,19*
muscles of, 794. _ .
j , hones of, in the mammalia,!
9, 10—in birds, 13.
Tofana, a Neapolitan poisoner, UL 3
Toga, XXI. 321.
Togrul Beg, III. 687 ; VIII. 478.
Toka, Hindu town, XXI. 321.
! Tokat, in Asia Minor, XXI. 321-
INDEX
153
TOK—TOO
TOP—TOU
TOR—TRA
Tokat, XXI. 321—wine, IV. 231.
Token Besseys, isles, XXI. 321.
Toland (John)- XXI. 321.
Toledo, in Spain, XXI. 321.
Toleniata, II. 23fi.
Tolebation, XXI. 322 ; XVI. 655 —
law of Buenos Ayres in favour of, V.
657—among the ancients, XI. 487;
XII. 573—favoured by the Indepen¬
dents, 264—Locke on, XIII. 4 la¬
the alleged tolerant spirit of pagan¬
ism disputed, XX. 446.
Tolfa, alum-work at, II. 573, 575.
Tollo Bay, XXI. 323.
Tolly (Barclay del, III. 608.
Tolouh Isle, XXI. 323.
Tolstonoskoi, XXI. 324.
Toltecks.orToltecans, II. 622, 623,635 ;
XIV. 757, 81 1 ; XVII. 555.
Toluca, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Tomb. XXI. 324—ancient tombs, III. 260
—characters of abbreviations on tomb¬
stones, VI. 323. See Sepulchre.
Tomhoro, volcano of, XVII. 513.
Tombuctoo. See Timbuctoo.
Tomgraney, spring at, VI. 725.
Tomicus, insect, IX. 176.
Tominie Bay, XXI. 325.
Tomoguy, island, XXI. 325.
Tompion of a cannon, XXI. 325.
Tomsk, Russian city, XXI. 325.
Tomyris, VII. 578.
Tonality, in music, XXI. 325.
Tondi, Indian sea-port, XXI. 325.
Tone, in music. See Music.
 and Parrett navigation, XVI. 20.
  or tonicity of muscles, XVII.
133, 605, 612.
 (Wolfe), XII. 384, 385, 386.
Tong, Chinese city, XXI. 325.
Tonga Islands, XVIII. 322.
Tongataboo, XXI. 325; II. 672.
Tong-Gin, Chinese city, XXI. 325.
Tongho, XXI. 325.
Tong-Tchang, Chinese city, XXI. 325.
Tong-Tchooen, Chinese city,XXI.325.
Tongs, zig-zag or lazy, X1V. 450.
Tongue, XVII. 627, 663—muscles of,
II. 794—anatomy of, 803—uses of,
804—comparative anatomy of, III. 26
—contraction of the ligaments of, 109
—of serpents, XX. 129—its diseases
in domestic animals, XXI. 622.
Tongueing, in joinery, V. 687.
Tone Rampoorah, XXI. 325.
Tonkin’s diving-apparatus, VIII. 62.
Tonnage of ships, XXI. 326.
 and Poundage, XXI. 334.
Tonnage-laws, XX. 209.
Tonneins, French city, XXI. 334,
Tonneke, in France, XXI. 334.
Tonningen, XXI. 334—siege of, 2:
Tonoru, in Mysore, XXI. 334
Tonquin, XXI. 408.
Tonsils, II. 803.
Tonson (Jacob), VII. 315.
Tonsure, XXI. 334.
joniine, XXI. 334—remarks on
vernment-schemes for raising m
bT> ni- 207, 208.
Ton-Ting, Chinese lake, XXI. 334
lONYN’s Islands, XXI. 334.
Ioobae, islets, XXI. 334.
1 oobigan, island, XXI. 334.
| oobouai, island, XXI. 334.
iooFOA, island, XXI. 334.
-ooke (John Horne), XXI. 334-
etymological riddles deduced 1
tidse principles, I. 6I-prosecutio
tor high treason,V. 474, 476—on g
roar, X, 672, ef scq.
Tool, XXI. 337.
1 ooljapoor, Hindu town, XXI. 33
tOOLOOMBAH, XXI. 337.
Ioombuddba, river, XXI. 337—bai
n»ats on the, IV. 428.
oomoon, Hindu town, XXI. 337
loon-wood of India, XXL 300.
Toorlfn P0°R’ Hindu town- XXI. 3!
' Romans. See Turcomans.
roohMOeZ,ia.Tartai'-V’XXI-3;!7-
00th. See Teeth.
ooting, in Surrey, XXI. 337.
Top of a ship, XXI. 337.
Topaz, X. 379; XV. 156—its crystalli¬
zation, VII. 515, 523—its pyro-elec¬
tricity, VIII. 597—electrical pheno¬
menon produced by its cleavage, 601
—specific gravity of, XII. 37—Egyp¬
tian, VIII. 518—optical phenomena
of Brazilian, XVI. 491—mines of, in
Brazil, XV. 110.
Topaz-rock, XV. 278.
Topazolite, a mineral, XV. 159.
Tope, fish, XII. 233.
Topgallant Isle, XXI. 338.
Topmast of a ship, XXI. 337.
Topography, XXI. 338.
Topsails of a ship, XXI. 338.
Topsham, in Devonshire, XXI. 338.
Tor, Arabian town, XXI. 338.
Torbay, in Devonshire, XXI. 338.
Torbet (Mr), on neuralgia, XVII. 484.
Tokee, Hindu town, XXI. 338.
Torella (G.), on the venereal disease,
XX. 828.
Torelli, life and character of, I. 581.
Toretto, sculptor, VI. 96.
Torfoeus, VII. 7 1.
Torgau, Prussian city, XXI. 338 —
battle of, XVIII. 681.
Torgoeh, angling for, III. 144.
Tories, XXI. 338—origin of the, V.
308—derivation of the word, 349.
Tornado, XIV. 728; XVII. 541.
Tornatella, in conehology, XV. 346.
Tornea, XXI. 339 ; IV.'sBO.
Turneo, river, XIX. 565.
Toro, in Spain, XXI. 339.
Toroff, Hindu town, XXI. 339.
Torontal, in Hungary, XXI. 339.
Torofez, Russian city, XXI. 339.
Torpedo, fish, XII. 235—electricity of,
I. 622 ; VIII. 565, 572, 610 ; VII. 643
—Mr Cavendish’s attempts to imitate
its effects by electricity, VI. 261—In-
genhousz’s experiments on, XII. 274
—electrical organs of, XVII. 718.
Torpidity, III. 167. See Hybernation.
Torquay, XXI. 338.
Torre Del Greco, XXI. 339.
 1 (Della), on the brain, II. 736.
Torrefaction, XXI. 339.
Torregiano, ins tomb of Henry the Se¬
venth, III. 423.
Ton-elite, specific gravity of, XH. 37.
Torrens on coined money, XV. 385—on
machinery, XVIII. 282.
Torrent, XXI. 339..
Torres, a Spanisli navigator. New Hol¬
land seen by, IV. 204 ; also Papua,
211; and the New Hebrides, 213.
Torres Strait, IV. 204, 218.
Torresvedras, Portuguese town, XXI.
339—lines of, V. 529 ; IX. 784.
Torricelli (E.), XXL 340—his inven¬
tion of the barometer, IV. 386—on
hydrodynamics, XII. 2 ; I. 480—on
the cycloid, XIV. 317, 439—on me¬
chanics, 351 ; I. 477—on pneumatics,
480 ; XVIII. 71, 72.
Torrid zone, X. 408.
Torrington (Great), XXL 340.
Torshok, Russian city. XXI. 340.
Torsion (force of), XIV. 354, 399—Cou¬
lomb on, VII. 426.
Torsion-balance, IV. 307; XIII. 688,
690; XIV. 401 ; VIII. 586.
Torsk (Scotch), fish, XII. 219.
Torso, statue, VIII. Pi. 195.
Tortoises, XIX. 128—hybernation of,
II. 46—bones of. III. 13, et seq.—
case of one which lived six months
without the brain, 163—similar case,
164—their power of fasting, 167—
structure of, XVII. 713.
Tortoise-Shell, XXI. 340; XIX. 131.
Tortola, island, XXI. 340, 660.
Tortona, Italian city, XXI. 340.
Tortosa, Spanish city, XXI. 340.
 , African timber, XXI. 295.
Tortrices, insects, IX. 249.
Tortrix, serpent, XX. 138.
Tortuga, bucaneers of, V. 620, etseq.;
VIII. 104.
Tobtuba, XXL 340 ; XVI. 742.
Torture, XXI. 340.
Torus, in botany, V. 41 ; III. 95—in
architecture, 442, 450, 471.
Torwood, camp at, V. 335.
Tory-. See Tories.
Tosanlu, in Asia Minor, XXI. 340.
Tossia, in Asia Minor, XXL 340.
Tostig, VIII. 708.
Totanus, bird, XVI. 625.
Totila, chief of the Goths, XII. 465.
Totipalmse, birds, XVI. 633.
Totnes, in Devonshire, XXI. 340.
Tott (Baron de), on the catacombs at
Alexandria, II. 413.
Tottenham, XXI. 340.
Toucan, bird, XVI. 599.
Touch, sense of, XIV. 608 ; XVII. 579,
661—in various animals, III. 165—
in bees, IV. 523; the crustaeea, VII.
498 ; insects. III. 164 ; IX. 78 ; fishes,
XII. 159—its acuteness in the blind,
IV. 694, 698.
Touch-Needle, XXL 340.
Touchstone, XXL 341 ; XIII. 610.
Toul, in France, XXI. 341.
Toulon, XXL 341—events at, in 1793,
X. 80; XV. 712.
Toulouse, XXI. 341—Academy of Flo¬
ral Games at, II. 67—battle of, V.
535—university of, XXI. 487.
 (Count de), V. 369.
Touraco, bird, XVI. 604.
Tourinho (Pedro de Campo), V. 189.
Tourmaline, XV. 158—iEpinus on, II.
175—pyro-electricity of, VIII. 571,
695—specific gravity of, XII. 37—re¬
fraction of, XVI. 475.
Toubnaghaut, XXI. 312.
Tournament, XXI. 342 ; VI. 600 ;
VIII. 252; XL 607.
Tournay, XXI. 342—siege of, in 1709,
V. 372 —porcelain-manufacture of,
XVIII. 435.
Tournefort (J. P. de), XXI. 342—on
zoophytes and stalactites, III. 156—
his botanical method, V. 71—botani¬
cal labours of, 86—on the mollusca,
XV. 329—on the alleged growth of
stone, XX. 736.
Tourniquet, XXI. 342.
Tournon, in France, XXI. 342.
Tournus, French city, XXI. 343.
Tours, French city, XXI. 343.
Touroud Bey, his expeditions against the
Wahabis, III. 344-5.
Toussaint Louverture, VIII. 105—base
treatment of, V. 512.
Toussoun Pasha, VIII. 498, et seq.
Towcester, XXI. 343.
Tower, in architecture, III. 471—of
London, XIII. 536.
Towers (Round), in Ireland, III. 276;
VI. 144, 727 ; VII. 331; VIII. 236;
XII. 426, 704, 713, 716, 728; XIII.
575 ; XIV. 339, 348 ; XV. 380; XX.
394 ; XXL 315—in Scotland, II. 31;
V. 224.
Townley on the elastic force of the air,
IV. 396.
Towns, sites for, XIV. 511.
Townshead Island, XXI. 343.
Towson’s compensation watch-balance,
VI. 800.
Towton, battle of, VIII. 736.
Towy, river, V. 771.
Towyn, Welsh town, XXI. 343.
Toxicology, XIV. 500, 528 £ X.VIIL
174. See Poison.
Toxophora, insect, IX. 268.
Toxotes, fish, XII. 180.
Toxotus, insect, IX. 180.
Tracery, in architecture, HU. 471,
Trachea, in man, II. 821,—in brutes,
III. 28—mucus of, VL 497—its in¬
fluence on the voice, XVII. 683—sur¬
gical treatment of diseases of, XX.
843—its diseases in the domestic ani¬
mals, XXL 629.
Trachelides, insects, IX. 167.
Trachelium, in architecture, III. 471.
Tracheotomy in the domestic animals,
XXL 630.
Trachichtys, fishes, XII. 170.
TEA
Trachinotus, fish, XII. 186.
Trachinus, fish, XII. 170.
Traehyderes, insects, IX. 178.
Traehynotus, insect, IX. 163.
Trachys, insect, IX. 139.
Traction, line of, XIV. 441.
Tractor, Perkins’s metallic, XIV. 4.
Trade, errors respecting balance of,
IX. 447—profits of trade with colo¬
nies, VII. 118. See Commerce, Poli¬
tical Economy.
Trades, their influence on the health of
operatives, XIV. 509.
Trade-winds, XIV. 746; XVII. 539.
Tradition, XXI. 343.
Traeth Bach, V. 772.
Traeth Mawr, V. 772.
Trafalgar, Spanish cape, XXI. 343—>
battle of, V. 519; VII. 85; XVI. 90.
Tragedy, XXI. 343—Greek, VIII. 148
—Roman, 151—French, 159—-Aris¬
totle on, III. 518; XV. 446—chorus
of ancient, VI. 619.
Traghan, IX. 532.
Tkagi-Comedy, XXI. 343—French no¬
tions of, VIII. 163.
Tragocerus, insect, IX. 179.
Tragopa, insect, IX. 204.
Tragopan, bird, XVI. 610,
Traill (Dr), on the specific gravity of
sea-water, XVII. 519—his register ba¬
rometer and thermometer, 530—his
anemoscope, 538.
Training, VIII. 24—of fruit-trees, XL
637.
Traitor’s Island, XXI. 343.
Trajan, XIX. 407; XI. 479—his war
with the Parthians, XVII. 105—his
pillar, XIX. 427.
Trajanus Decius, reign of, XIX. 411.
Trajectories, orthogonal and reciprocal,
XIV. 322.
Tralee, XXI. 343 ; XII. 705.
Trallianus (Alex.), XXI. 343.
Tramore, Irish town, XXL 343.
Tranent, Seoteli village, XXI. 344.
Trani, Italian city, XXI. 344.
Tranquebar, XXI. 344; VII. 728.
Transcendental, XXI. 344—transcen¬
dental philosophy of Kant, XII. 677.
Transcribers of hooks before the inven¬
tion of (irinting, IV. 622—Egyptian,
VIII. 529.
Transfusion of blood, XXI. 344.
Transient notes. See Music.
Transit of planets over the sun’s disc,
IV. 24.
Transit Instrument, IV. 104.
Transition. See Music.
Transition rocks, XV. 193.
Transitive, XXI. 344.
Translation, XXL 344—lack of good
English translations of the classics,
III. 263—poetical, VII. 718—no per¬
fect translation of any Greek author,
XVIL.408.
Transmigration, XXI. 344—of souls,
ib.;. III. 295 * XI. 401.
Transmutation, XXI. 344.
Transom, in architecture, III. 471—in
ship-building, XXI. 345 ; XX. 282.
Transparency, XXI, 345; XIII. 331;
XVI. 378—of minerals, XV. 131.
Transpiration in plants, III. 56, 68.
Transportation, punishment of, VII.
116; XVIII. 733.
Transposition, XXL oi5,
Transubstantiation, XXL 345 ; XX.
814—Gibbon’s argument against the
doctrine of, I. 154.
Transverse, XXI. 345.
Transylvania, in Austria, XXL 345;
IV. 225—collection of gold in, V. 9—
its alliance with Sweden, XXI. 20.
Trant (Captain), on the Turkish army,
III. 613, n. 1.
Trap-rocks, XVII. 510-r-absorbent pro¬
perty of, VII. 66.
Trapani, XXL 346; XV.. 703.
Trapelus, reptile, XIX. 1.43.
Trapezium, XXL 346—how. to find its
area, XIV. 567.
Trapezoid, X. 433,
154
INDEX
TEA—TRI
Tras los Montes, XXI. 34G,
Trasimeno, lake, XVII. 5.
Trass, XIV. 289.
Trau, ill Dalmatia, XXI. 346.
Travalla, in Celebes, XXI. 346.
Travancore, XXI. 346.
Traverse, XXI. 347—Board, ib.
Traverses, in fortification, IX. 773.
Travesty, XXI. 347.
Treacheroos Bay, XXI. 347.
Tread, in veterinary science, XXI. 620.
Tread-mill, XIV. 430 — its effect on
health, 513.
Treason, XXI. 347—High, ib.—Petty,
ib.—punishment of, V. 435.
Treasure, XXI. 347.
Treasure-Trove, XXI. 347.
Treasurer, XXI. 347—of the House¬
hold, ib.—of the Navy, ib.
Treasury, XXI. 348—in London, XIII.
543—Lords of the, XXI. 348.
 Islands, XXI. 348.
Treaty, XXI. 348—whetherall treaties
are annulled by war, V. 509.
Trebia, battle of, VI. 197.
Trebisond, XXL 348 ; IV. 661.
Treble. See Music.
Trecento, a style of architecture, III. 424.
Tredgold (Thomas), XXI. 348—on the
strength of ropes, XIX. 459—his for¬
mula representing law of the relation
between temperature and force of
steam, XX. 595—his erroneous esti¬
mate of the effect of the crank in
steam-engines, 667.
Trees injurious in fences, II. 273—course
and motion of sap in, III. 50, 157—
bark of, 63 ; XXI. 576—skin of, III.
65—structure of their trunks, 82 ;
branches, 85; roots, 87—fall of leaves
of, VII. 672—instrument for measur¬
ing, 718—nursery culture of, XVII.
791—age of, XXI. 588—fruit-trees,
XI. 636. See Planting, Timber, Ve¬
getable Physiology, Wood.
Tree serpents, XX. 140.
Treenails, oak, strength of, XX. 297.
Treffer (Florian), on the classification of
books, IV. 631.
Trefoil, its seeds used as a dye-stuff,
VIII. 321.
 , in architecture, III. 471.
Tregaskis (Mr), on the temperature and
force of steam, XX. 595.
TREGONEY.in Cornwall, XXI. 348.
Tremadoc, in Wales, VIII. 677, 680.
Treman, Hindu town, XXI. 348.
Tremandrese, in botany, V. 98.
Trematoda, zoophytes, XXI. 996.
Tremolite, XV. 154—sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
Trenches, XXL 348.
Trent, Austrian city, XXI. 348—Coun¬
cil of, ib.; I. 421; XIX. 91, 93.
  , English river, XXI. 349 ; VIII.
760 ; XVI. 283 ; XX. 558—its navi¬
gation, XVI. 20—Trent and Mersey
Canal, ib.
Trenton, in New Jersey, XII. 543.
Trepang, XXI. 1002.
Treschow, VII. 731.
Tressure, XXI. 349; XI. 251.
Trestle Trees, XXI. 349.
Tret, in commerce, XXI. 349.
Trevannion’s Island, XXI. 349.
Trevelyan (W. C.), on the aurora bo¬
realis, VIII. 623.
Trevennen’s Island, XXI. 349.
Treves, XXI. 349—coins of, XV. 408.
Treviglio, in Italy, XXI. 349.
Treviso, in Lombardy, XXI. 349.
Trevou, in France, XXI. 349.
Trezedellas, XIV. 241.
Triacanthus, fish, XII. 229.
Triad, in music, XXI. 349.
TrLenophorus, zoophyte, XXI. 996.
Trial, XXI. 349—by the wager of bat¬
tle, IV. 451; VIII. 252. See Ordeal.
Triangle, XXI. 349; X. 432, et seq.—
to find its area, XIV. 566.
Triarius defeated by the Romans under
Lucullus, XVIII, 356.
Tribe, XXI. 349.
Triboli, in Asia Minor, XXL 349.
TRI
Tribonian, one of the compilers of Jus¬
tinian’s Code, VI. 716.
Tribraciiys, in poetry, XXI. 349.
Tribunal, XXI. 349.
Tribune, XXI. 349.
Tributary, XXI. 349.
Tribute, XXI. 349 —derivation of,
from colonies, VII. 117.
Trichechus, in zoology, XIV. 125.
Trichiasis in animals, XXI. 635.
Trichides, insects, IX. 161.
Trichinopoly, XXI. 349.
Trichiurus, fish, XII. 183.
 electricus, VIII. 614.
Trichius, insect, IX. 161.
Trichocera, insects, IX. 262.
Trichoda, animalcules, III. 189.
Trichodon, fish, XII. 170.
Triehoglossus, bird, XVI. 601.
Trichonotus, fish, XII. 194.
Trichophorus, bird, XVI. 572.
Trichoptera, insects, IX. 214.
Trichopus, fish, XII. 190.
Trichosoma, zoophyte, XXI. 998.
Triclasite, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Tricocephalus, zoophyte, XXI. 998.
Tricolor, Hindu town, XXI. 350.
Tridacna, mollusca, XV. 342.
Tridactylus, insect, IX. 192.
Trident, XXI. 350.
Triennial, XXI. 350.
Triens, copper coin, XXL 350.
Trier, XXI. 349—coins of, XV. 408.
Trieste, XXI. 350—trade of, IV, 231.
Triewald’s diving-bell, VIII. 66.
Trigla, fish, XII. 17 3—fins of, III. 17.
Triglyphs, XXI. 350 ; III. 471.
Trigon, fish, XII. 235.
Trigona, Crustacea, VII. 501.
Trigones, insects, IX. 237.
Trigonia, mollusca, XV. 343.
Trigonocephalus, serpent, XX. 150,134.
Trigonometrical Survey, XXI. 351.
Trigonometry, XXI. 370—plane, 372
—spherical, 377—introduction of, I.
435—improvement made in, during
the last century, 585—characters of
abbreviations in, VI. 323.
Trill, or Shake, in music, XXI. 386.
Trilobites, VII. 503.
Trim, Irish town, XXI. 386; XIV. 348.
Trimapoor, XXI. 386.
Trimbuck, XXI. 386.
Trimera, insects, IX. 185.
Trimmers, in carpentry, V. 685.
Trincomalee, XXI. 386 ; VI. 299, 303.
Trineurse, insects, IX. 292.
Tring, in Hertfordshire, XXI. 386.
Tringa, bird, XVI. 623.
Tringang, Malay town, XXI. 386.
Trinidad, West India island, XXL 386
—pitch-lake in, XVI. 49.
Trinitarians, XXI. 387.
Trinity, XXI. 387 ; VI. 622 ; XII. 564 ;
XXI. 205—punishment of denial of
the, IV. 675—Dr Samuel Clarke on
the, VI. 730.
 , Oxford term, XXL 498.
 Bay, XXI. 387.
 House, in London, XIII. 504—
lighthouses of, XX. 28.
 Island, XXL 387.
 Sunday, XXI. 387.
Trino, Italian city, XXI. 387.
Trinobantes, XXI. 387.
Trinomalee, Hindu town, XXI. 387.
Trio, or Terzetto, in music, XXI. 387.
Triodon, fish, XII. 229.
Trionyx, reptile, XIX. 132.
Tripatoor, Hindu town, XXI. 387.
Tripetty, Hindu town, XXI. 387.
Triphthong, XXI. 387.
Triphyllus, insect, IX. 176.
Triplax, insect, IX. 185.
Triplet microscope, XV. 36.
Tripod, XXI. 387.
Tripodes in ancient Athens, IV. 119.
Tripoli, in Barbary, XXI. 387 ; II. 235;
IV. 360—weights and measures of,
XXI. 856.
 , in Syria, XXL 387.
Tripolizza, Greek town, XXI. 387—
sacking of, in 1821, X. 746.
TRI—TRO
Tripontary, Hindu town, XXL 387.
Tripossoor, Hindu town, XXI. 387.
Triptolemus, three laws of, XV. 672.
Triremis, XXI. 387.
Trisection of angle, III. 129.
Trismegistus, XXI. 388. See Hermes.
Trissino, his tragedy of Sophonisba,
VIII. 157.
Tristan (General), IV. 756.
Tristernagh, XXI. 863.
Tristoma, zoophyte, XXI. 997.
Trisyllable, XXI. 388.
Tritany, Hindu town, XXI. 388.
Tritoma, insect, IX. 185.
Triton, XXI. 388—reptile, XIX. 160.
Tritone, in music, XXI. 388.
Tritonia, mollusca, XV. 360.
Trituration, XXI. 388.
Triumph, XXI. 388.
Triumvir, XXI. 388 — first Roman
triumvirate, XIX. 396—second, 398.
Trivady, Indian town, XXI. 388.
Trivalenoob, XXI. 388.
Trivandapatam, XXI. 388.
Trivatoor, Hindu towm, XXI. 388.
Trivicary, Hindu village, XXI. 388.
Triyidy, Hindu town, XXI. 388.
Trixa, insect, IX. 282.
Troas, in Phrygia, XXL 388.
Trobriand Islands, XXI. 388.
Troch^us, in prosody, XXI. 388.
Trochanters, II. 789.
Trochetia, worm, XI. 226.
Trochilus, bird, XVI. 589.
Trochus, in conchology, XV. 347.
Troctou, island, XXI. 388.
Troglodytes, a people of Ethiopia,
XXI. 388 ; II. 226, 231 ; IX. 377.
 , mammalia, XIV. 89.
 .birds, XVI. 576.
Trogon, bird, XVI. 599.
Trogositse, insects, IX. 177.
Trogulus, arachnides, III. 367.
Trogus Pompeius, XXI. 388.
Troitsk, Russian town, XXI. 388.
Troitsko Sauskaia, XXI. 388.
Trollhatten, XXI. 388.
Trolling, a mode of fishing, III. 144.
Trombidium, arachnides, III. 367.
Trombone, XV. 617.
Tromler on Coptic, XL 315.
Tromp (M. H. Van), Dutch admiral,
XXI. 389 ; XL 522, et seq.
Tron (St), in Limburg, XXI. 389.
Tron weight, XXI. 851.
Tronage, XXI. 389.
Tronchet, X. 74.
Troolie, large leaves of the, IV. 579, n.;
VII. 707.
Troon, XXI. 389—harbour of, IV. 260.
Troop-horse, XI. 593.
Tropaeoleae, in botany, V. 104.
Tropes, in rhetoric, XIX. 214.
 -(St), XIX. 615.
Trophonius, cave of, XXI. 389—oracle
of, XVI. 516.
Trophosperms, in botany, V. 50.
Trophy, XXI. 389.
Tropics, HI. 764; X. 406.
Tropic-bird, XVI. 635.
Tropidia, insect, IX. 275.
Tropidonotus, serpent, XX. 141.
Troppau, in Moravia, XXI. 389—con¬
gress at, V. 552.
Trosachs, in Perthshire, XXI. 389.
Trotter (Mr), charges against, as pay¬
master of the navy, V. 520, 521.
Trotting of horses, XI. 591, 610.
Troubadours, XXI. 389, 545, n. 1.
Troubles in collieries, VII. 72.
Trough-battery, galvanic, XXI. 666.
Troughton (Mr), his optical instru¬
ments, III. 748—transit instruments,
IV. 104, 105—mural circle, 107—
azimuth and altitude circles, 109—
wire-micrometer, XV. 11—mercurial
pendulum, XVII. 214.
Trous-de-loup, IX. 786.
Trout, XII. 206—bull, sea, white, and
salmon, ib.—common, 207.
Trout-fishing, III. 138, 142.
Trouveres, literature of the, XVIII. 157,
164.
TRO—TUL
Trouveurs, VII. 496.
Trover, in law, XXI. 389.
Trowbridge, in Wilts, XXI. 389,
Trowels, XX. 711-12.
Trowert Island, XXL 389.
Trox, insect, IX. 155.
Troy, XXI. 389—-Bryant’s work on, V.
619—position of, XII. 246.
Troy Weight, XXI. 390 ; III. 544-
origin of the name, XXI. 849—table
of, 850—Scottish, 390.
Troyes, XXI. 390—cotton-manufacture
of, VII. 417—population of, XV. 533.
Trudaine’s burning-lens, V. 738.
Trumpet, XXI 390 ; XV. 616-articu¬
late trumpet, XXI. 390 ; II. 118—
ear-trumpet, ib.; XXI. 398.
 (Marine), XXI. 399.
Trumpet-fish, XII. 197.
Truncatipennes, insects, IX. 115.
Truncheon, XXI. 399.
Trundle, XXI. 400.
Trunk, in botany, XXI. 400 ; III. 81.
Trunk of the elephant, III. 27; XIV.
146; XVII. 706.
Trunk-fish, XII. 229.
Trunnions, XXI. 400.
Truro, town in Cornwall, XXI. 400.
Truss of hay, &c., XXI. 400—in car¬
pentry, V. 685—trusses of a ship,
XX. 292.
Trustees, Scottish Board of, VIII. 420.
Trusts, English law of, IX. 28.
Truth, XXI. 400 ; XIV. 637—remarks
on the progress of, 1.120—Dr Beattie
on, IV. 477—propensity to speak,
XIV. 641—regard for, XV. 476.
Truxalis, insect, IX. 193.
Truxillo, in Honduras, XL 18.
Tryon, in St John’s, XII. 591.
Trypeta, insect, IX. 286.
Tryphiodorus, poet, XXI. 400.
Tryphon, insect, IX. 222.
Trypoxylon, insect, IX. 230.
Tsabaians, XVIII. 332.
Tsad, lake. See Tchad.
Tscherikow’s Island, XXI. 400.
Tscherkask, VII. 383.
Tschernigow, XXI. 400.
Tschirnhausen, his burning-glass, V.
726, 737—on curves, XIV. 320.
Tshudish language, XIII.89,113; 11.610-
Tsiompa, in eastern Asia, XXI. 400.
Tsong-Ming, island, XXI. 400.
Tuak, island, XXI. 401.
Tuam, Irish town, XXI. 401.
Tuaricks, IX. 376.
Tuba, Russian river, XXI. 401.
Tubercles, XXI. 401.
Tubicenus, insect, IX. 172.
Tubicinella, mollusca, XV. 340.
Tubicol®, worms, XI. 218.
Tubingen, in Wirtemberg, XXL 401—
Academy of History at, II. 75.
Tucker (Abraham), Dr Paley’s opinion
of his w ritings, I. 114—character of
his mind, 370—somewhat resembled
Montaigne, 371—works of, ib., 372.
Tuckehs, XXI. 84.
Tuckey (Captain), his African expedi¬
tion, 11.234 ; VII. 214.
Tucopia, island, XXI. 401.
Tucuman, XXL 401 ; XVIII. 8.
Tudela, Spanish town, XXI. 401.
Tudura, Hindu village, XXI. 401.
Tuesday, origin of the word, XVIII. 337-
Tufa, calcareous, V. 787.
Tuffa, in Iceland, XII. 148.
Tuilleries, palace of the, XVII. 75.
Tuki (Raphael), XI. 314.
Tula, in Russia, XXI. 401.
Tulaxodes, mollusca, XV. 345.
Tulgom, XXI. 401.
Tulips, V. 135—extraordinary price of,
II. 388—bulb of, III. 90—culture of,
XI. 682—tulip-mania, IV. 375.
Tulip-tree, XVII. 786.
Tulipeae, in botany, V. 135.
Tull (Jethro), XXI. 401—on husband¬
ry, II. 259 ; VIII. 764.
 (Samuel), his mode of castral-
ing fishes, IX. 725.
Tullamore, Irish town, XII. 728.
INDEX
155
TUL—TUR
Tnii®! in France, XXI. 401.
Tullia,daughter of Cicero, VI. 693.
Tullus Hostilius, XIX. 363, 378.
TcLWtWDY, Hindu town, XXI. 401.
Tumbelan Islands, XXI. 401.
Tdmbrell, XXI. 402.
Tumcubd, Hindu town, XXI. 402.
Tcmene, in Russia, XXI. 402.
Tumeric, yellow dye-stuff, VIII. 321.
Tdmlook, in Bengal, XXI. 402.
Tummel, Scotch river, XVII. 290.
Tumours, surgical treatment of, XX.
844.
Tun, XXI. 402.
Tunbridge, XXI. 402—Wells, ib.
Tune, in music, XXI. 402—phrenolo¬
gical faculty so named, XVII. 464.
Tungaragua, eruption of, XVII. 514.
Tungsten, in chemistry, VI. 390—in
mineralogy, XV. 143—specific gra¬
vity of, XII. 37.
Tungstic acid, VI. 390—salts of, 454.
Tunguses, XXI. 402; XX. 327.
Tungusian language, XIII. 91.
Tunguska, rivers, XXI. 402.
Tunica, XXI. 402.
Tuning-Fork, XXI. 402.
Tuning-Hammer, XXI. 402.
Tunis, XXI. 402 ; II. 235, 510; IV.
360 ; VI. 191—manufactures of, IV.
365—slavery in, 366—Blake’s attack
on, 673—weights and measures of,
XXI. 856.
Tunnels, XXI. 403—blasting of, IV.
676—Brindley’s, V. 289—construc¬
tion of, XVI. 29—for railways, XIX.
45—Thames tunnel, XIII. 512.
Tunny, XII. 182—fishery, XV. 703.
Tunquin, or Tonquin, XXI. 408.
Tupac Amaru, insurrection of, in Peru,
IV. 755.
Tupaia, in zoology, XIV. 103.
Tupia, VII. 296.
Tupinoquins, V. 189.
Tuppel, Hindu town, XXI. 409.
Tuptee, Hindu river, XXI. 409.
Tuea, in Russia, XXI. 409.
Turbah, Hindu town, XXI. 409.
Turban, head-dress, XXI. 409.
Turbeth, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Turbinated bones of man, II. 777.
Turbinellus, in eonchology, XV. 346.
Turbo, in conchology, XV. 347, 373.
Turbot, XII. 220—fishery, IX. 600.
Turcje, or Turci, XXI. 409.
Turcomans, XXI. 409, 83, 419-20—of
Bukhara, V. 697.
Turf, transplanting of, II. 312.
Turgot (A. R. J.), XXI. 410; X. 38;
XVIII. 270—meaning attached by,
to the word physics, I. 9—on M. do
Gournay, VIII. 398.
Tuvguet (Theodore), VI. 347.
Turin, XXI. 410—Royal Academy of,
II. 69—Academy of Painting at, 74—
discovery of part of the Theodosian
Code at, VI. 715—Prince Eugene’s
victory at, IX. 395—libraries of,
XIII. 311.
Turinsk, in Russia, XXI. 411.
Torivicary, Hindu town, XXI. 411.
Turkey, XXI. 411—army of, III. 612
—war with Austria, IV. 220, 224-
war with Britain in 1806, V. 524—
late war with the Greeks, 572 ; X.
743, etseg.—war with France in 1799,
VIII. 490—mountains of, IX. 407—
French trade with, X. 190—janiza¬
ries in, XII. 508—libraries, XIII.
317—variation of the needle, 734,
736—coins, XV. 408, 412—news¬
papers, XVI. 173—the plague, 772—
religion, XIX. 316—wars with Rus¬
sia, 540, etseq.; V. 459; XX. 24, ct
seq.—Charles XII.’s retreat to, 23—
insurrections in Syria, 64—conquest
of Syria by Mehemmed Ali, ib.; VIII.
504—weights and measures, XXI.
856—map of Turkey in Europe, PI.
496; and of Turkey in Asia, Pi. 497.
See Turks.
> bird, XVI. 606.
  Company, VII. 182 ; XXL 427.
TUR—TWE
Turkey-blue, dyeing of, VIII. 327.
Turkey-buzzard, XVI. 559.
Turkey-red, dyeing of, VIII. 316.
Tcrki, Hindu town, XXI. 428.
Turkin, Russian town, XXI. 4 28.
Turkmans in Syria, XXI. 63.
Turkomans. See Turcomans.
Turks, African,II. 225—Egyptian, VIII.
521—Asiatic and European, XXI.
419—their conquest of Algiers, II.
504—allegiance to, thrown off by the
Algerines, 507—origin of their hatred
towards the Persians, III. 342—their
conquests in Arabia, 343-5 ; and in
other parts of Asia, 687—arc en¬
camped rather than settled in Europe,
IV. 128, n.—siege of Athens by, 129
—their months, VI. 662—their in¬
vasions of the Eastern Empire, VII.
283, et seq.—their first appearance in
Europe, 288—Constantinopletakenby,
290; XXI. 412—invasionandconquest
of Egypt by, VIII. 479, 484—geome¬
try of, X. 428—in Greece, 737—their
polity there, 733 — their language,
XIII. 91—their attack on Malta,
XIV. 60—conquest of Palestine by,
XVI. 759. See Turkey.
Turmeric, colouring matter of, VI. 485.
Turn-again, XXI. 428.
Turnbull’s account of the New Hol¬
landers, IV. 208.
Turner (Sir James), V. 349.
  (Sharon), his character of Ri¬
chard I., VIII. 719—on the reign of
Edward the Third, 728.
 (Dr), on gas-burners, X. 357.
Turner’s account of Bootan, IV. 792.
Turneracese, in botany, V. 111.
Tcrnhout, city in Brabant, XXI. 428—
battle of, XVI. 114.
Turning, art of, XXL 428 —elliptic,
VIII. 672.
Turnips, when first given to sheep in
England, II. 259—Tull on the cul¬
ture of, 260—Swedish, 263—culture
and varieties of, 286; XI. 670—dis¬
eases of, II. 288—machine for sow¬
ing, 350—protection of, from the fly,
XII. 294 ; XXL 602.
Turnip-slicer, II. 269.
Turnip-soils, rotation of crops on, II.
298.
Turnpike weighing-machine, XXI. 836.
Turnstone, bird, XVI. 624.
Turon Bay, in Cochin-China, XXI.
431; VII. 13.
Turpentine, XXI. 431—specific gra¬
vity of, XII. 37—oil of, useful in de¬
stroying insects, XII. 294.
Turpin (Monsieur), on the umbilicus of
seeds, III. 72.
Turquois, in mineralogy, XV. 154—spe¬
cific gravity of, XII. 37 — Persian
mines of, XVII. 243.
Turret, in architecture, III. 471.
Turriff, in Aberdeenshire, XXI. 431.
Turrilites, mollusca, XV. 345.
Turritella, moliusca, XV. 347.
Tursheez, Persian city, XXI. 431.
Turtle Island, XXI. 431.
Turtle-dove, XVI. 613—its insensibility
to pain, III. 165.
Turtles, XIX. 151—used for food, IX.
724—structure of, XVII. 713.
Turuchansk, XXI. 431.
Tuscan order of architecture, III. 425
—modern Italian, 451.
 school of painting, XVI. 708.
Tuscans, IX. 383.
Tuscany, XXI. 431 — French trade
with, X. 190—coins of, XV. 408, 412
—weights and measures of, XXI. 856.
Tusks, III. 33. See Elephant, &c.
Tusser on agriculture, II. 256.
Tuticorin, Hindu town, XXI. 432.
Tutor, in law, XXI. 433.
Tutors at Oxford, XXI. 496, 498.
Tuzla, Turkish town, XXL 433.
Tweed, river, XXI. 433 ; XVI. 254 ;
XIX. 511, 747—salmon-fishery of the,
IV. 598.
Tweeddale, XVII. 169.
TWE-TYT
Twelfth-Day, XXI. 433.
Twenty-Four Pergunnahs, XXI. 433.
Twenty-Four Rajahs, XXI. 433.
Twenty-Two Rajahs, XXI. 433.
Twer, Russian city, XXL 433.
Twickenham, XXI. 433.
Twilight, XXI. 433; III. 763—how to
find the length of, IV. 65.
Twilled cloth, XXI. 827.
Twinkling of the stars, III. 763.
Twins, weight of, II. 758.
 , islands, XXI. 433.
Twiss on codification, XIII. 193.
Twisting, strain produced by, XX. 777.
Two Brothers, islands, XXI. 433.
Two Headed Point, XXI. 433.
Two Hills, island, XXI. 434.
Two Sisters, islands, XXI. 434.
Twyte, bird, XVI. 581.
Tycho Brahe, V. 174—his astronomi¬
cal discoveries, I. 485, et seq. ; III.
738, 762; IV. 46—his planetary sys¬
tem, 16 — believed in astrology, I.
488—on the cometary orbits, VII. 137.
Tygers’ Islands, XXL 434.
Tyler (Wat), insurrection of, VIII. 729.
Tylode, insect, IX. 174.
Tympanum of the ear, II. 801 ; XVII.
665—bones of, II. 801—comparative
anatomy of, III. 25.
 , in architecture, III. 471.
Tyndale (W.), XXI. 434—his transla¬
tion of the Bible, IV. 618.
Tyndaridse, VI. 231.
Tyne, Scotch river, XI. 103.
 , English river, XVI. 151, 254—
navigation of, 21.
Tynemouth, English town, XXI. 434.
Type, XXL 434.
Types for printing, XXI. 434—charac¬
ter of those used by the early printers,
XVIII. 545—improvements of Basker-
ville on, 554.
Type-Founding, XXI. 434—Caslon’s
improvements in, VI. 215—in Glas¬
gow, X. 553—origin of, XVIII. 545.
Typhacese, in botany, V. 136.
Typhlops, serpent, XX. 123.
Typhon, in meteorology, XVII. 541.
 , an Egyptian deity, VIII. 552—
Bryant on, VII. 694.
Typography, IV. 623—early, 624. See
Printing.
Tyrannic, III. 494.
Tyrannus, bird, XVI. 569.
Tyrant, XXI. 4 37—the Thirty Tyrants
of Athens, IV. 160.
Tyrconnel (Lord), V. 362.
Tyre, XXL 437 ; X. 396 ; XVII. 451-
era of, VI. 660—commerce of, VII.
155, 156—dyeing in, VIII. 295—be¬
sieged by Saladin, 482—destroyed by
Alexander, XIII. 632—mysteries of
Osiris at, XV. 664—navigation of, 745
human sacrifices at, XIX. 606.
Tyrers’ seapement, VI. 793.
Tyrhoot, in Hindustan, XXI. 438.
Tyrie (David), treason of, V. 425.
Tyrinthus, near Mycenaj, Cyclopaean
structures at, III. 414.
Tyrnau, Hungarian city, XXL 438.
Tyrol, XXI. 438 ; IV. 227—heights of
mountains of, XVII. 506.
Tyrone, Irish county, XXL 438—Col¬
liery Canal, XVI. 23.
   (Earl of), his rebellions in Ire¬
land, XII. 363-5.
Tyrrell (Mr),his work on Cumberland’s
Law of Nature, VII. 539.
Tyrrhenians, IX. 383.
Tyrt^eus, Greek poet, XXI. 441.
Tyrwhitt (Thomas), XXI. 442.
Tyson (Edward), his researches in com¬
parative anatomy, II. 700.
Tytler (William), XXI. 443.
  (Alex. F.), Lord Woodhouselee,
XXI. 443—Dn Ramsay’s Monk and
the Miller’s Wife, VIII. 274—on vitri¬
fied forts, IX. 757, 759—on Transla¬
tion, XXI. 344.
  (P. F.), on the supposed escape
of Richard II. to Scotland, VIII. 731,
n.—his exposure of Hume, XI. 498,
TZE—UMM
Tzetzes (John), his tale about Belisari-
us, IV. 545—on the burning-glasses
of Archimedes, V. 728.
Tzulim, Russian river, XXI. 444.
u
U, letter of the alphabet, XXI. 445.
Ubaldi (Guido), on mechanics, XIV.
350 ; I. 474—on perspective, XVII.
273—on statics, XX. 564.
Ubeda, Spanish city, XXL 445.
Ubes (St), in Portugal, XX. 160.
Ubiquitarians, XXI. 445.
Ubiquity of God, XXI. 445.
Ubrique, Spanish city, XXI. 445.
Uccelli on ornithology, XVI. 548.
Uckfield, in Sussex, XXI. 445.
Udal lands, IX. 524, n. 4—in Norway,
XVI. 267.
Udder (cow’s), enlarged by constant
milking, II. 653—treatment of inflam¬
mation of, XXI. 629.
Udine, Austrian city, XXI. 445.
Udipu, Hindu town, XXI. 445.
Uffculme, in Devonshire, XXL 445.
Ugliness, VII. 673. See Deformity.
Uglitsch, in Russia, XXI. 445.
Ugocsa, in Hungary, XXI. 445.
Uhland, German poet, XVIII. 168.
Uist (South and North), XXI. 446.
Uj-Videk, Austrian city, XXI. 446.
Ukenskoi, Russian town, XXL 446.
Ukikitshca, river, XXI. 446.
Ukinskoi, Russian cape, XXI. 446.
Ukipen, island, XXL 446.
Ukraine, XXI. 446.
Ulcers, surgical treatment of, XX. 838.
Uleaborg, in the Russian province of
Finland, XXL 446 ; IV. 330.
Uleoiota, insect, IX. 177.
Uley, in Gloucestershire, XXL 446.
Ulidea, insect, IX. 287.
Ulietea,island, XXI. 446; XVIII. 324.
Ullapool, Scotch village, XXI. 446.
Ulloa (Don Antonio de), IX. 548—his
secret report to the Spanish govern¬
ment, IV. 754.
Uliswater, English lake, VII. 537—trout
of, III. 143, note.
Ulm, XXI. 446—battle of, V. 520—sur¬
render of, to the French, X. 137.
Ulmeaj, in botany, V. 129.
Ulmic acid, VI. 429.
Ulna, in man, II. 787—in the mamma¬
lia, III. 8 ; birds, 13; reptiles, 15.
Ulohorus, genus of arachnides, III. 361.
Ulocerus, insect, IX. 172.
Ulphilas, XVII. 418—Gothic alphabet
of, II. 549—Gothic Bible of, IV. 616,
617 ; XIX. 790—his version of the
Gospels, X. 621; of the Epistle to the
Romans, XVI. 764, 766.
Ulrica Eleonora, XXI. 26.
Ulster, Irish province, XXL 447 —
colonization of, by English and Scotch
settlers, V. 307 ; XII. 366—massacre
of the English in, V. 320.
Ulterior, in geography, XXI. 447.
Ultramarine, a colour, XXI. 447.
 , specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Ultramontane, XXI. 447.
Ulugh-Beigh, XXI. 447—astronomy
cultivated by, III. 735.
Ulula, bird, XVI. 566.
Ulverstone, in Lancashire, XXI. 447
—ship-canal, XVI. 21.
Ulysses, XXI. 447; XII. 341, 345—
character of, XVIII. 150.
Uman, in Russia, XXI. 447.
Umbelliferous Plants, XXL 447 ; V<
114.
Umbilical cord, II. 827; XVII. 694—
of plants, III, 72.
 arteries and vein, II. 827.
Umbilicus, in botany, III, 72; V. 50.
Umbra, in astronomy, IV. 7.
Umbrella, XXI. 447.
Umbrina, fish, XII. 176.
UmmerapoOr, XXI. 447.
156
INDEX
UMN—UNI
Umnabab, Hindu town, XXI. 448.
Umbut, Hindu town, XXI. 448.
Unalashka, island, II. 404.
Unau.in zoology, XIV. 142—its stomach,
III. 35—intestines, 37.
Unbiak, island, XXI. 448.
Uncia, XXI. 448.
Unction, XXI. 448,
Undecaqon, XXI. 448.
Undecemvir, XXI 448.
Undershot water-wheels, description of,
XII. 87 ; XXI. 807.
Understanding, human, XII. 319 ; XIV.
601 — Aristotle on, III. 507—plea¬
sures of, XV. 468.
Undes, in Hindustan, XXI. 448.
Undulation, XXI. 448—of air, XVIII.
117. See Acoustics, Waves.
Ungreas, XI. 32.
Unguiculata, II. 708.
Ungulata, II. 708.
Ungulina, mollusca, XV. 342.
Uniacke (Mr), his views on codification,
XIII. 193,
Unicorn, XXI. 448—sea, XIV. 181.
Unieh, in Asia Minor, XXI. 448.
Unigenitus, hull so called, X. 35.
Unio, in conchology, XV. 341.
Union, XXI. 448.
 of England and Scotland, XXI.
448 ; V. 302, 370; VIII. 414 —at¬
tempt to dissolve it, V. 373—Defoe’s
mission to Edinburgh respecting it,
VII. 670.
 of Britain and Ireland proposed,
V. 487—effected, 493,
 Canals, XVI. 12, et seq.
Uniorid*, moltusca, XV. 367.
Unitarians, or Socinians, XXI, 449 ;
XII. 564 ; XX. 435—their opinion of
the Holy Spirit, XXI. 233.
United Brethren, XXI. 449 ; XV.
490. See Moravians.
United Provinces, See Holland, Nether¬
lands.
United States of North America,
XXI. 450; II. 646—literature of, I.
203—American Academy of Sciences,
II. 72—climate of, 613—Indian popu¬
lation, 617, 631; VIII.687—previous
to Declaration of Independence, II.
637—natural bridge in Virginia, I1J.
118—army, 616—barrows, IV, 409—
Indian Bibles, 618—War of Independ¬
ence, V. 390, 397, et seq. ; XI. 484—
war with Britain in 1812, V. 536 ; VI.
69—badeffectsof themercantile policy
of Britain towards, V. 538—trade with
Buenos Ayres, 650 Canton, VI. 103;
Chili, 534 ; Britain, VII. 161 ; VIII.
779 ; France, X. 187, 189—Chalmers’s
Political Annals of the, VI. 308—
commercial policy of, VII. 172—corn-
trade, 364—cotton-wool, 405—cotton-
manufacture and its prospects, 421,
414—emigration to, VIII. 686; XVIII.
408— hardware-manufacture of, VIII.
776—exports and imports, IX. 446—
fisheries, 605—conduct of France to¬
wards, X. 38—rate of interest in, XII.
327—Jews, 583—codification, XIII.
187, 195—libraries, 317—coins, XV.
408, 412 — population, 518, 521;
XVIII. 408—canals, XVI. 23, 37—
navigable rivers, 27 —newspapers, 173;
XVII. 223-birds, XVI. 553, et seq.-
swamp% 596—Ranking, XVII, 46—
heights of mountains, 505 — post-
office, XVIII. 496 — penitentiaries,
583, 587—penal law, 737—railways,
XIX- 16—popery, 3i6—lighthouses,
XX. 30—hot-blast iron-smelting, 408,
409— anthracite, ib.—experiments on
the force of high pressure steam, 588,
596 ; and on the strength of boiler-
materials, 677, 682—introduction of
steam-navigation by Fulton, 689 —
computation of tonnage of ships.
XXI. 329—colleges, 528—theological
schools, ib,—medical schools, 529—
weights and measures, 856—map of,
Plates 498 and 499.
United States Bank, XXI. 475, 477,
UNI—URT
Unities in the drama, observance of, by
the French, VIII. 159, 166—their
merit considered, 159—frequently dis¬
regarded by Shakspeare, 163 ; and by
later dramatists, 173.
Universal, XXI. 481.
Universals, in Aristotelian philosophy,
III. 497, 506.
Universe, XXI. 481—opinions of the
Druids about the, VIII. 205.
Universities, XXI. 482—their opposi¬
tion to improvement, VIII. 449 —
—English, 789. See Cambridge, Ox¬
ford, Edinburgh, Glasgow, &c.
Unst, island, XXI, 986.
Unterwalden, XXI. 530.
Upas tree, XII. 529; XVIII. 183—al¬
kali in, VI. 462.
Upeneus, fish, XII. 172.
Upis, insect, IX. 164,
Uppingham, in Rutland, XXI. 530.
Upsala, XXI. 530—library of, XIII.
316—springs of, XVII. 527.
Upton-on-Severn, XXI. 530.
Upupa, bird, XVI. 591.
Ur of the Chaldees, XVII. 359.
Ural mountains, IX. 407 ; XVI. 677;
XIX. 563; XX. 326 —river, XIX.
565—mines, 578, 587.
Urania, a Muse, XXI 530 ; XV. 603.
 , Phoenician goddess, XVII. 451.
 ——, insect, IX. 243.
Uranite, XV. 146—sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
Uranium, VI. 388—salts of oxides of,
453, 454—specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Uranium-ore, XV. 162.
Uranoscopus, fish, XII. 171.
Uranus, planet, account of, IV. 34—sa¬
tellites of, ib., 37—variations in its
orbit., 59—discovery of, III. 747.
 (Nieephorus), VII. 282.
Urbino, in Italy, XXI. 531.
Ure (Dr Andrew), his detonating eudi¬
ometer, VIII. 660—on hot-blast iron¬
smelting, XX. 411—his experiments
on the elastic force of steam, 584—
—his galvanic experiments on a dead
body, XXI. 681—on the fineness of
wools, 921.
Ure river navigation, XVI. 21.
Urea, VI. 500; XVII. 637, 651, 655.
Uredaceae, reproductive organs of,V. 58.
Ureters, II. 823.
Urethra, II. 823, 825; XVII. 688—
erectile tissue of, II. 725—surgical
treatment of stricture of, XX. 842.
Urfe (Honore d’), XIX. 334.
Urgunge, in Asia, XXI. 531.
Urj, a canton of Switzerland, XXI. 531
—lake of, 46.
Uria, bird, XVI. 630.
Uric acid, VI, 430.
Urim and Thummim, XXI. 531.
Urinary organs of man, II. 823—of
brutes. III. 40—diseases of, in man,
XVII. 479, 482, 488; in the domestic
animals, XXI. 628. See Calculus,
Lithotomy.
Urine, II. 713, 823; VI. 499; XVII.
655—its use in agriculture, II. 272,
305—mucus of the, VI. 497—diabe¬
tic, 500—in cases of dropsy, 501—
deposits from, ib.—detergent proper¬
ty of, IV. 690, n.—specific gravity of,
XII. 37—voiding of, not an instinct¬
ive act, 502.
Urn, XXI. 531.
Urocerata, insects, IX. 218.
Uromastyx, reptile, X(X. 142.
Uropoda, arachnides. III. 368.
Urquhart (Sir Tho.), his account of the
Admirable Crichton, VII, 468-70—
said to have died in a paroxysm of
laughter, VIII. 212, m. 1.
Urrey (General), defeat of, V, 327.
Ursa, constellations, XXI. 531.
Ursieinns, VII. 276.
Ursinus (B.), on logarithms, XIII. 418.
Ursula, VII. 276,
 , town in the Azores, IV. 263.
Ursulines, XXI. 531.
Ursus, in zoology, XIV. 105. See Bear.
Urtica, its prickle, III. 70.
URT—YAL
Urticacese, in botany, V. 129.
Uruguay, river, XV. 431.
Urdmea (Lake), XVI. 677 ; IV. 261.
Urns, in zoology, XIV. 166.
Usance, XXI. 531 ; IX. 454.
Usbecks, IV. 318 ; XXI. 84—of Buk¬
hara, V. 696.
Use, in law, XXI. 532.
Ushant, island, XXI. 532.
Usher, XXI. 532—of Black Rod, ib.
  (Archbp.), assisted Walton in
publishing the Polyglott Bible, XXI.
731—the Usher Manuscripts at Dub¬
lin, XIII. 304.
Usia, insect, IX. 263.
Usidscha, Turkish city, XXI. 532.
Usk, XXI. 532—river, ib.
Usman, in Russia, XXI. 532.
Ustee, Hindu town, XXI. 532.
Ustica, islands, XXI. 532.
Ustjcg-Weliki, in Russia, XXL 532.
Ustjushna, in Russia, XXI. 532.
Ustsysolsk, in Russia, XXI. 532.
Usufruct, XXI. 532.
Usurer, XXI. 532.
Usurpation, XXI. 532.
Usury, XXI. 532—argument of Calvin
respecting, I. 233—Bentliam on, 377
—its effect on bills, IX. 458.
Usury-laws, XII. 322—benefitfrom their
abolition, VII. 171—opinion of mer¬
chants on the, 175.
Uterus, II. 826 ; XVII. 689.
Utero-gestation, XVII. 691. See Ges¬
tation, Pregnancy.
Utica, XXI. 533—ruins of, IV. 363—
taken by the Romans, VI. 203.
Utility, the principle of, proclaimed by
Bentham with the zeal of a discoverer,
I. 379—fully discussed in Hume’s
works, 429—considered in relation to
morals, I. 382,4 01; VIII. 400; XVII.
761—distinction between value and,
XVIII. 258. See Ethical Philosophy.
Utrecht, XXI. 533 —political move¬
ments at, in 1784, V. 446.
 (Peace of), V. 372 ; XVI. 121-
provisions relative to Spain, XX. 504.
Utricle, in botany, V. 48.
Utricular substance, III. 57,
Uttoxeter, in Stafford, XXI. 533.
Uva, Russian lake, XXI. 533.
Uvea in various animals, III. 24.
Uves, Mexican town, XIV. 818.
Uvula, II. 803 ; XVII. 663.
Uxbridge, in Middlesex, XXI. 533.
Uz, or Utz, XXI. 533.
Uzziah, IV. 261.
y
V, letter of the alphabet, XXI. 534.
Vacarius, XXI. 492.
Vaccination, XXI. 534.
Vacciniete, in botany, V. 118.
Vacomagi, VI. 2.
Vacs, Hungarian city, XXI. 537.
\ acuum, XXI. 537—ancient opinions
about, IV. 384, 385—passage of elec¬
tric spark through, VIII. 583—na¬
ture’s supposed abhorrence of, XVIII.
71— rush of air into, 106—ebullition
in, XX. 573—distillation in, 576.
Vaddahs of Ceylon, VI. 303.
Vagabond, XXI. 537. See. Vagrants.
Vagina, II. 826 ; XVII. 690.
Vagrancy, restraint of, XVIII. 368—di¬
minution of, 370.
Vagrants, XVIII. 250.
Vahl (Professor), on botany, V. 79.
Vaillant (Jean Foy), French numis¬
matist, XXI. 537.
 (Mons. Le), botanical labours of,
V. 86—on birds, XVI. 549.
Vair, XXI. 538—in heraldry, XI. 245.
Vairy, in heraldry, XXI. 538.
Vaisyas, Hindu caste, VI. 224 ; XI. 402.
Valaise, Swiss canton, XXI. 538.
Valangin, Swiss town, XXI. 538.
Valckenaeb (Lewis C.), XXL 538.
VAL—VAN
Valckenaer (John), XXI. 539.
Valdernar II. of Denmark, VII. 720.
Valdenses, XXI. 539, 547 ; II. 382.
Valdepennas, in Spain, XXL 544.
Valdivia, in Chili, VI. 539.
Valdo, or Waldo (Peter), XXI. 545.
Valence, in France, XXL 547.
Valencia, in Spain, XXI. 548.
Valenciennes, French city, XXL 548
—siege of, in 1793, X. 79.
Valens, Roman emperor, VII. 278 •
XIX. 418.
Valentine (Basil), on sal-ammoniac, II.
660—on brewing, V. 230—on cheinis-
try, VI. 344.
Valentini’s publications on medical ju¬
risprudence, XIV. 491.
Valentinian, Roman emperor, VII. 278'
XIX. 418,
 II., reign of, XIX. 419.
 III., reign of, XIX. 421.
Valentinians, XXI. 5.18.
Valerian, reign of, XIX. 412.
Valerianeae, in botany, V. 116.
Valerianus Magnus, discovery in pneu¬
matics claimed by, XVIII. 72.
Valerius Flaccus, IX. Cli.
 (Lucas), his work on the centre
of gravity, XIV. 350.
 Maximus, XXL 548.
 Poplicola, XIX. 368.
Valery (St). French town, XXL 548.
Valesco de Taranta, XX. 828.
Valesiana, II. 675.
Valet, XXI. 548.
Valetta, XXI. 548 : XIV. 63.
Valette, XIV. 60.
Valladolid, in Spain, XXI. 549.
 , Mexican state, XIV. 815.
Vallaneey (General), on Irish cromlechs,
III, 407.
Valle (Pietro della), XI. 312.
Valleggio, in Italy, XXI. 549.
Valleys, XVII. 503—relations of rivers
to, XIX. 278.
Vallisneria, in botany, V. 132.
Valognes, in France, XXL 549.
Valois (A.> his Table-Talk, II. 675,
Valona, IV. 256.
Valonia, its use in tanning, XXL 77.
Valparaiso, in Chili, VI. 538, 539—trade
of, VI. 534.
Valperga (Thomas), on Coptic, XL 315.
Valsalva, anatomist, II. 701.
Value of commodities, XVIII. 258—by
what regulated, 294.
Valvata, mollusca, XV. 348, 360.
Valve, XXI. 549—vlives of pumps,
XVIII. 722 ; of steam-engines, XX.
647, 698—valve-gear, 650—valve-ap¬
paratus, 651.
Valz (M.), his micrometer, XV. 24.
Vampire, XIV. 100.
Vampire-bat, XVII. 703.
Van Ceulen (L.), on the quadrature of
the circle, XX. 554.
Van Coetsem (Prof.), on inflammation,
XVII. 485—on cerebral disease, 492.
Van der Hooght’s Hebrew Bible, pub¬
lished at Amsterdam, IV. 614.
Van der Mersch, XVI. 122.
Van Diemen’s Land, XXI. 551; IV.
210—discovered by Tasman, 205 —
farther discoveries in, ib., 206—emi¬
gration to, VIII. 688, 689.
Van Diemen’s Cape, XXf. 556.
Van Espen, Ids Jus Ecelesiasticum Uni-
versum, VI. 93.
Van Helmont (John Baptist), XL 227
—his contributions to chemistry and
medicine, I. 454 ; VI. 347.
Van Horn, a bucaneer, V. 624.
Van Marum, his electrical machine,
VIII. 578—on electricity, 603, 642—
on tile fusion of wires by electricity,
627—on the chemical agency of elec¬
tricity, 629 ; its magnetic effects, 637;
and its influence on the pulse and
perspiration, 640.
Van Swinden (Mr), magnetic observa¬
tions of, XIII. 690, 698.
Van Tromp, XXI.-389; XI. 522,
Vanadiate of lead, sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
INDEX,
157
VAN—VAU
Vanadic acid, VI. 388.
Vanadium, VI. 387.
Vanbrugh (Sir John), XXI. 549—his
style of architecture, III. 429—his
dramatic works, VIII. 172.
Vancouver (Fort), XXI. 452.
Vandalia, in Illinois, XII. 248.
Vandals, XIX. 420, et seq.—Eome taken
by the, 423 — their irruption into
Spain, XX. 492.
Vanderlint (Jacob), on political eco¬
nomy, XVIII. 267.
Vandernoot, XVI. 122.
Vandshbuling Islands, XXI. 556.
Vandyck (Sir A.), painter, XXI. 556 ;
III. 649 ; XVI. 703, 717, 722.
Vane of a ship, XXI. 557.
_ (Sir Harry), V. 337—his mission
to Scotland, V. 325.
Vaneeya, XI. 32.
Vanellus, bird, XVI. 617.
Vanessa, insect, IX. 241.
Vanga, bird, XVI. 568.
Yanhomrigh (Miss Esther), IV. 584 ;
XXL 37-8.
Vanhorne, XVII. 728.
Vanity distinguislied from pride, XVIII.
530. See Approbation.
Vannes, in France, XXL 557.
Vansittart (Mr), his financial blunders,
V. 556—his alteration of the sinking-
fund, X. 246, 257—his tax on wool,
XXL 923.
Vaporization, XI. 190.
Vapour, XVII. 532, 568—in the atmos¬
phere, IV. 136—condensation of, by
cold, XII. 120—latent lieat of, 129;
its effect on barometric measure¬
ments, 131 —specific gravity of a mix¬
ture of air and, ib. See Dew, Eva¬
poration, Hygrometry.
Var, in France, XXL 557.
Varages, XIX. 527.
Varanus, reptile, XIX. 139.
Vardoosettah, XXI. 557.
Variation, in music, XXI. 560.
  of the magnetic needle, XIII.
686, 730—changes in it,737—annual,
738 — diurnal, 739 — variation-com¬
pass, 7 66—variation-transit, ib.
Variations (Calculus of), XXI. 557—
distinction between differential and,
I. 600. See Geometry (New.)
Varieties of animals, what, III. 161.
Varignon (Monsieur), IX. 637—on the
fusee of watches, VI. 787—on me¬
chanics, XIV. 352.
Varix, XVII. 129.
Varna, XXI. 560—port of, IV. 660.
Varnish, XXI. 561—Chinese, 431—of
Greek paintings, XVI. 699.
Varolius (Constantius), of Bologna,ana¬
tomical discoveries of, II. 696.
Varpa, island, XXL 562.
Varro (Marcus Terentius), XXL 562.
 Atacincs (P. T.), XXL 563.
Varus (Quintilius), X. 476 ; XIX. 401.
Varshah, Afghan town, XXI. 564.
Varvicite, VI. 407.
\asa(Gustavus). See Gustavus.
Vasari, his Life of Michael Angelo,
XVI. 714, 715.
Vasculares, in botany, V. 94.
Vascular system of the human body,
II. 731. See Vessels.
Vase, XXL 564—Etruscan, IX. 387;
XVI. 695; IX. PI. J40 and 141.
Vassal, XXI. 564.
V assars, their Scaligerana, II. 674.
V ater on American languages, II. 619,».
Vathi, XII. 341; XIX. 633.
Vatican, XIX. 433—library, XIII. 308
—palimpsests in, XVI. 766.
Vatna, in Asia Minor, XXI. 564.
Vattel (Emmerich de), XXI. 564—on
balance of power, IV. 308, 309.
Vacban (S. le P. de), XXL 564—com¬
pared with Cbhorn, VII. 29—on for¬
tification, IX. 770—his first system,
second and third systems,
774—on sieges, 776.
Vaucanson, his mechanical flute-player,
UI. 123, 239.
VAU—VEL
Vaucluse, in France, XXI. 564—foun¬
tain of, VI. 746 ; XVII. 527,
Vaud, Swiss canton, XXI. 565.
Vaudois, XXI. 538, 547 5 II. 382.
Vaudreuil (Marquis de), V. 409.
 (Monsieur de), VI. 68,
Vault, XXI. 565 ; III. 471—advan¬
tages of dome-vaulting, 391.
Vauquelin on alum, II. 571—chemical
labours of, VI. 361—on porcelain,
XVIII. 437.
Vauquelinite, sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
Vauvenargues (Marquis de), I. 184.
Vauxhall bridge, V. 279; XIII. 511.
 Gardens, XIII. 534.
Vavao, island, XXI. 565.
Vaypen, XXL 565.
Vazisabad, in Lahore, XXI. 565.
Veal, VII. 592.
Vecht, river, XI. 137.
Vedas, XXL 565 ; XL 399 ; XX. 191.
Vedahs of Ceylon, VI. 303.
Veere, in Brabant, XXI. 566.
Vega, mathematical talents of, I. 584.
Vega Carpio (Lope Felix de), XXI.
566 — Ids plays, VIII. 156—novels,
XIX. 351.
Vegetable bodies, chemistry of, VI. 460
—less easily dyed than animal bodies,
VIII. 298—vegetable alkalies, VI.
460—neutral vegetable principles, 471
—vegetable poisons, XIV. 504—ve¬
getable food, IX. 727 ; XVII. 624.
 Anatomy, III. 41.
 Physiology, XXI. 567—colour¬
ing matter and colours of plants, VI.
483; VII. 127—nutrition, III. 157,
166—-respiration, 157 — analogy of
reproduction, &c., in animals and
plants, 158—Coulomb on circulation
of sap, VII. 428—electricity produced
by plants, VIII. 608—effects of elec¬
tricity on them, 641—effects of light,
XIII. 339 ; XVII. 547 ; of longitude
and soil, ih.; of poisons, XVIII. 182
—air emitted by plants, XII. 275—
botanical regions, XVII. 548. See
Botany, Plants, Timber, Trees.
Vegetitjs' Renatus (Flavius), XXI.
589—on the Roman armies, III. 589.
 Renatcs (Publius), XXI. 589.
Vegeto-sulphuric acid, VI. 431.
Veglia, island, XXI. 589.
Veii, Etrurian city, XXI. 589—taken
by the Romans, XIX. 374.
Veins, in anatomy, II. 719 ; XVII. 582,
639—their valves, II. 721; origin and
termination, ib. ; calibre and area,
722; mutual communications, 723 ;
action, XVII. 644—generally accom¬
pany arteries in their course, II.
722; but not always, 723—Are they
more superficial and less sheltered
than arteries? 723 — surgical treat¬
ment of dilatation of the, XX. 840—
venous absorption, XVII. 654.
 , metallic, XV. 276 ; XVII. 507
—origin of, XV. 235.
Velarius, XXI. 589.
Velasquez, VII. 378—his style of paint¬
ing, III. 650; XVI. 722.
Vele Rete, rock of, XXL 589.
Velia, insect, IX. 198.
Velites of Roman army, XXI. 589.
Velletri, Italian city, XXI. 589.
Vellore, Hindu town, XXI. 589.
Vellum, Hindu town, XXL 590.
 ,or parchment, XXI. 590 ; XVII.
68—formerly used for books, IV. 621
—durability of writing on, XII. 279.
Velocity, XXI. 590 ; VIII. 367 ;
XVIII. 777—principle of virtual and
actual, I. 535—increase of that of
falling bodies, II. 81—scale of, VIII.
375—of machinery, XIV. 404 ; air,
738, 742 ; XVIII. 106; rivers. XIX.
253; ships, XX. 259 ; sound, 482 ; II.
113, 116.
Velschius (G. H.), his intended edition
of Edrisi’s Geography, VIII. 433.
Velutina, mollusca, XV. 363.
Velvet, XXI. 590—method of dyeing
it black, VIII. 330.
YEN—VER
Vena contracta, XII. 52.
Venables (Col. R.), on pike-fishing, III.
145—his work on angling, 149.
Venoaticherry, XXI. 590.
Vendace, fish, XII. 211.
Vendee, XXI. 590—war in, X. 81.
Vendola, island, XXL 590.
Vendome, in France, XXI. 590.
Veneering, XXI. 590.
Veneers, cutting of, XIV. 367.
Veneration, XVII. 463. See Reverence.
Venereal disease, XVII. 487, 495—its
introduction into Europe, XVI. 681 ;
XX. 828—early writers on, ib., n. 3—
treatment of, 845.
Venericardia, mollusca, XV. 342.
Venesection. See Blood-letting.
Venezuela, in South America, XXI.
591. See Bolivar, Colombia.
Veniambady, XXI. 593.
Venice, XXL 593; XII. 475—Cosmo-
graphical Academy, II. 68—war with
the Algerines, 507—whether the pa¬
rent of Gothic architecture, III. 420-1
—church of St Mark, 422—school of
painting, 648; XVI. 709, 7-16—siege
of Athens, IV. 128—government, 228
—commerce, VII. 157, 231 ; XV. 745
—carpets,VI. 173—maritime law,VII.
493—Darn’s History of, 630—Doge
of, VIII. 90—glass-manufacture, X.
564—policy towards Ionian Islands,
XII. 344-5—libraries, XIII. 311-cap¬
ture of Ravenna from the Lombards,
466—coins of, XV. 408, 412—invaded
by Napoleon, 724—rise of newspapers
in, XVI. 168—Bank of, XVII. 4 5—
early printing at, XVIII. 539, 548—
opposition to the Portuguese in India,
465—rise of, XX. 213—causes of in¬
crease, VII. 157—shipping, XX. 213,
219—war with Turkey, XXI. 412—
loss of Candia, 413—measures used
in, 848—weights, 848.
Venloo, in Limburg, XXI. 595.
Venricones, VI. 2.
Ventilation, XXI. 595—of jails, &c.,
II. 368—of collieries, &c., VII. 80, 83;
XVIII. 129 —of ships, XX. 273-
means employed by bees to ventilate
their hives, IV. 522—conducive to
health, XIV. 508.
Ventilator, XXI. 598; XI. 111.
Ventivalum, XXI. 598.
Ventricle, XXI. 598—ventricles of
the brain, II. 808 ; XVII. 660—of the
heart, II. 818 ; XVII. 637—capacities
of the latter, 643.
Ventriloquism, XXI. 598.
Venturi on hydrodynamics, XII. 5, 57,
64, 65, 68, i06.
Venus, goddess, XXI. 598—measure¬
ment of statue of, VIII. 182—statues
of: of Arles, VIII. PL 194; de Me-
dicis, Pi. 196 ; of the Capitol, ib.
 , in conchology, XV. 342.
 , planet, IV. 27—phenomena of,
13—variations of its orbit, 58—atmo¬
sphere of, XVIII. 105.
Venusius, V. 299.
Vera Cruz, Mexican state, XIV. 815—
city, 816—plundered by the bucan-
eers, V. 624.
Veragua, province of, XVI. 784.
Veramally, Hindu town, XXI. 598.
Verardo (Charles), on historical plays,
VIII. 155.
Veratrin, VI. 465—salts of, ib.
Verbenaee;e, in botany, V. 123.
Verbeneae, in botany, V. 124.
Verbs, X. 655, 684.
Vercelli, in Sardinia, XXL 598.
Verchairalsk, XXI. 599.
Verchaturia, XXI. 599.
Vercholensk, XXI. 599.
Verd (Cape), XXL 599—Islands, ib.
Verdigris, VII. 312.
Verdun, French city, XXI. 599.
Vereja, Russian city, XXI. 599.
Verge, in law, XXI. 599.
 of a clock, VI. 768.
Vergers, XXI. 599.
Vergniaud; X. 83.
VER—VEX
Vermeille, sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
Vermicelli, XXI. 599.
Vermlcularia, mollusca, XV. 349.
Vermilion, XXI. 599 ; VI. 418—Chi¬
nese, 577—in crayon-painting, VII.
453.
Vermin, XXI. 599—on the domestic
animals, 637.
Vermont, XXL 603—canals in, 470.
Vermuyden, an embanker, VIII. 676.
Vernation of leaves, V. 36.
Vernet (Horace), XVI. 723.
Vernier Scale, XXI. 604.
Vernon, French city, XXI. 604.
  (Admiral), his expeditions a-
gainst Portobello and Carthagena, V.
379 ; XX. 426.
Verona, in Italy, XXL 604—Academy
of Sciences, II. 69—amphitheatre, 670
—palimpsests, XVI. 767.
Veronese (Paul), painter, XVI. 718.
Verres, praffor of Sicily, Cicero’s ora¬
tions against, VI. 691.
Verri (Count di), on political economy,
XVIII. 270.
Versailles, XXI. 604—aqueduct from
Marli to, III. 320—palace of, 427.
Verse, in poetry, XXI. 605.
Versed sine, XXI. 370.
Versetz, Hungarian city, XXL 605.
Verst, VII. 471, n. 3.
Vert, in heraldry, XXL 605 ; XI. 244.
Vertebrae, human, II. 759, 763 ; XVII.
614—ligaments of, II. 740—muscles
of, 793—of brutes, XVII. 701, etseq*;
mammalia, III. 2; birds, 10; reptiles*
13 ; fishes, 16.
Vertebrata, II. 705 | IX. 93 $ XVII. 586
—classification of, 11.706—character¬
istics of, III. 172, 179—classes of, 179.
Vertex, XXL 605.
Vertical, in astronomy, III. 754.
Verticillus, XXI. 605.
Verticity of the loadstone, XXI. 605.
Vertigo,disease,in the domestic animals,
XXI. 632.
 , in conchology, XV. 348.
Vertot (Rene Aubert de), XXI. 605.
Vertumnus, XXI. 605.
Vertunien, his Scaligerana, II. 874.
Verulam (Baron): See Bacon (Francis).
Verus (Lucius), XIX. 408.
Vervain, highly esteemed by the Druids,
VIII. 208.
Verviers, in Belgium, XXI. 611.
VesaliUs (Andreas)* XXI. 611; II. 695;
XII. 330—his character Of Dubois or
Sylvius, II. 694—his anatomical dis¬
coveries, 695 ; XVII. 726—on the
brain, XIV. 580.
Vesoul, XXI. 611 ; IV. 600.
Vespa, insect, IX. 231.
Vespasian, Roman emperor, XIX. 404
—the Coliseum built by, II. 668—hi*
war with the Jews, XII. 574.
Vesper, island, XXI. 611.
Vespers, XXI. 611.
Vespertilio, in zoology, XIV. 101.
Vespertilionidfe, in zoology, XIV. 98:
Vespiarioe, insects, IX. 230.
Vespucci (Amerigo), XXI. 611; X. 399
—his voyages to Brazil, V. 188.
Vessels of plants. III. 42—Ofleaves, 94.
  See Bloodvessels.
Vesta, in mythology, XXI. 612.
 , planet, XXL 612 ; IV. 29—dis¬
covery of, III. 748.
Vestalia, festival, XXI. 612.
Vestals, XXL 612.
Vestibule, in architecture, XXI. 612:
 of the ear, II. 801.
Vestry of a church, XXL 612.
Vesuvian, XV. 159—sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
Vesuvius, XXI. 612 ; XV. 699* 707-
electricity of the air on, VIII. 615—
eruptions of, XVII. 513; XIX. 405.
Veteranio, VII. 272.
Veterinary Science,XXI.612; IX.490;
XI. 606. See Cattle, Horse, Sheep.
Vetranio, XIX. 417.
Vevay, Swiss town, XXL 638.
 , in Indiana, XII. 266.
Vexillum; in botany, V. 42.
158
INDEX
VIA—VIL
Via Lactea, IV. 48.
Viadana (L.), XXI. 252.
Viaducts, XXI. 638; III. 323; XIX.
20.
Vi ales, in mythology, XXI. 641.
Viana, in Portugal, XXI. 641.
Vibex, XXI. 642.
Vibration of musical instruments, II.
121—of air, XVIII. 117.
Vibrio, genus of animalcules, III. 187.
Viburnum, XVII. 783.
Vicak, XXI, 642; XVII. 98.
Vicary (Thomas), II. 697.
Vice considered by Socrates as an error
of the understanding, XX. 464, 467.
See Ethical Philosophy.
Vice-chancellor of Oxford, XXI. 496.
Vicenza, XXI. 462.
Vich, XXI. 653.
Vici on hydraulics, XII. 6.
Vick (H. dc), his clock, VI. 766, 777.
Vico (G.), on Homer, XI. 542.
Vicq D’Azyr, his classification of animal
functions, XVII. 590.
Vicramaditya, era of, VI. 664.
Viceavandt, XXI. 642.
Victoiue Isle, XXI. 642.
Victor (Sextus Aurelius), XXI. 642.
 (General), V. 527.
Victoria, president of the Mexican re¬
public, XIV. 788, 791.
 , Mexican Town, XIV. 817.
  Fort, XXI. 642.
Victory, XXI. 642.
Victualling establishments at Deptford,
VIII. 81 ; Chatham, 83 ; Portsmouth,
85 ; Plymouth, 85—late Victualling
Board, 88.
Vicuna, IV. 748; VI. 525, 544.
Vida (Makco.GeronimoI, XXL 643.
Vidua, bird, XVI. 581.
Vieillot on birds, XVI. 549, 550, 551.
Vielle, XXI. 643.
Vienna, XXI. 643—Academy of Sur¬
gery, II. 68—Academy of the Fine
Arts, 74—university, IV. 235—libra¬
ries, XIII. 311—sieges by the Turks,
XXI. 412, 413—measures used in,
848—weights, 849—Congress of, X.
481 ; XVIII. 685.
Vienne, in France, XXL 646, 647.
 (Ufpeii), in France, XXI. 647.
Vieque, island, XXI. 660.
Viehlands, islands, XXI. 647.
Viebzon, French city, XXI. 647.
Vieta (Francis), X. 429; XIV. 316—
his improvements in algebra, I. 442 ;
II. 423, 424, 493; in trigonometry, I.
442-3—his Apollonius Gallus.III. 289.
Vieussens (Raymond), anatomical disco¬
veries of, II. 701.
Vieyra (J. F,), V. 191.
Vigee (Frangois), XXI. 647.
Vigevano, in Sardinia, XXI. 647.
Vigils, XXL 648—of plants, ib.
Vigilantius, reformer, XXL 648.
Vignola, architect, III. 426.
Vigo, Spanish sea-port, XXI. 649.
Vigogna, in zoology, XIV. 157.
Vigors (Mr), on generic divisions of ani¬
mals, XVI. 556—his classification of
birds, 641. ,
VlJANAGRAM, XXI. 650.
Vijao, American plant, III. 119.
Vilette’s burning-mirrors, V. 726, 733.
Villa, ancient Roman, III. 444—embel¬
lishment of, X. 337.
Villa Bella, XIV. 326.
Villa do Principe, XV. 110.
Villa Maria, XIV. 326.
Villa Real de Cuyaba, XIV. 326.
Villa Real do Sahara, XV. 111.
Villa Rica, in Brazil, XV. 109—climate
of, V. 190.
Villa St Joao del Rey, XV. 111.
Villa Vicoga, XVII. 53.
Villach, in Illyria, XXI. 650.
Village, XXI. 650.
VlLLAFRANCA, XXI. 650.
Villalpanda on the architecture of Solo¬
mon’s temple. III. 413.
Villaret-Joyeuse (Admiral), V. 475,
Villars, botanist, V. 82, 87.
VIL—VIQ
Villars (Marshal), V. 372.
Ville (A. de), on fortification, IX. 770.
VlLLEFRANCHE, XXI. 650.
Villegagnon (N. D. de), V. 190.
Villegas, poetry of, XVIII. 164.
Villein, or Villain, XXI. 650.
Villena, Spanish city, XXI. 650.
Villenage, in law, XXI. 650.
Villeneuve D’Agen, XXL 651.
  (Admiral), X. 136.
Villeroi (Marshal de), his campaigns
against the Duke of Marlborough, V.
369, et se<].
Villers on balance of power, IV. 310.
Villi of the ileum, II. 815—of mucous
membrane, XVII. 607.
Villiers (George), Duke of Bucking¬
ham, XXI. 651—his visit to Spain
with Prince Charles, V. 308—im¬
peachment of, 311—war with France
excited and mismanaged by, 312—
assassination of, 313.
 (George), second Duke of Buck¬
ingham, XXI. 651—his Rehearsal,
VIII. 171.
Villiers and Bowring, their Report on
ourcommercial relationswith France,
X. 185, 186.
Villoison’s edition of Homer, XI. 548.
Villoteau (G. A.), on music in Egypt,
XXI. 325.
Vimiero, Portuguese town, XXI. 651
—battle of, V. 524.
Viminal Hill, XIX. 424, 427.
Vina, XXL 651.
Vinago, bird, XVI. 614.
VlNCATGHERRY, XXI. 651.
Vince (Mr), on the resistance of fluids,
XII. 80—on the lever, XIV. 360—on
friction, 407.
  (Dr), on mirage, XIV. 750—
case of great atmospherical refrac¬
tion observed by, XVI. 510.
Vincennes, in Indiana, XII. 266.
Vincent (St), island, XXL 651—cul¬
ture of the bread-fruit in, V. 212-13
—volcano of, XVII. 512.
 (Gulf of St), XXL 651.
 (Cape St), battle of, V.414, 480;
XVI. 84 ; XXL 651.
 —(John Jervis, Earl of St), XXI.
651; Y. 414, 480; XVI. 84.
 (Dr), on the Periplus of the
Erythrean Sea, II. 220.
 (Bory St), his division of the in¬
digenous Americans, II. 615. See Bory.
 (Jean-Claude-Maria), VIII. 398.
Vinci (Leonardo da), XXI. 651—first
distinctly stated the principle of the
effects of oblique force, I. 602—his
character as a painter, &c., III. 647;
XVI. 710, 720—on experiment, X.
291, n. 1—on pictorial invention, XV.
641.
Vinculum, in algebra, XXI. 652.
Vindhya Mountains, XXI. 652.
Vindingius (Paul), on anonymous books,
VI. 627.
Vine, sap yielded by the, III. 51—struc¬
ture of its trunk, 83—culture of, XI.
639, 657—specific gravity of, XII. 37
—vines in Austria, IV. 231; France,
X. 175; Indiana, XII. 266.
Vinegar, XXI. 652; VI. 427—its use
in pickling, IX. 734—specific gravity
of, XII. 37.
Vingorla, Hindu town, XXI. 652.
Vinland, II. 635.
Vinous fermentation,VIII. 52; XXI. 894.
Vinovium, VIII. 291.
Viola, in botany, V. 64.
 , musical instrument, XXI. 653;
XV. 613—Alto, XXI. 653—d’Amore,
ib.—di Gamba, ib.
Violarieae, in botany, V. 98.
Violet, dyeing of, VIH. 335.
Violin, XXI. 653 ; XV. 613.
Violoncello, XXL 653; XV. 613.
Violone, or Double-Bass, XXI. 653;
XV. 613.
Viper, XX. 153, 135—poisonous bite
of, XIV. 507.
Vique, Spanish city, XXI. 65,3,
YIR—YIT
Virago, XXI. 653.
Viragne, Hindu town, XXI. 653.
Viuanchipura, XXI. 653.
Virafelle, XXI. 653.
Vire, in France, XXI. 653.
Virey, his definitions of animal and
plant, III. 156—his classification of
animals, 171—on the instincts of in¬
sects, IX. 89—on the varieties of the
human species, XIV. 199.
Virgil, XXI. 653—translation of, by
Caxton, IV. 626 ; by Gawin Douglas,
VIII. 128-9—Delille’s French version
of the Georgies, VII. 686—birth-place
of, XIV. 236—poetry of, XVIII. 144,
153—Warton’s edition of his works,
and translation of the Eclogues and
Georgies, XXL 778.
 (Pol ydore), historian, XXL 657.
Virgilia lutea, XVII. 787.
Virgin Islands, XXI. 657.
Virgingorda, island, XXI. 660.
Virginia, XXL 657—canals of, XVI.
26; XXI. 472—railroads, 473—state-
bonds, 479—gold found in, 454.
Virginity, signs of, XIV. 491, 496.
Virginius (Lucius), XIX. 373.
Virgo, constellation, XXL 660.
Viriathus, insurrection of, XX. 491.
Virility, XIV. 493.
Virnangh, Hindu village, XXI. 660.
Virot on the Deists, VII. 679.
Virtual, or potential, XXI. 660.
Virtue, XXL 660 ; XV. 458, et seq.—
Aristotle on, III. 516, 520—origin of
the notion of, XIV. 628—motives to,
XV. 484. See Ethical Philosophy.
Virtuoso, XXI. 660.
Vis inertias, VIII. 353; XVII. 569.
Vis insita, VIII, 346, 353; XVIII. 779.
Viscidity, XX. 749.
Visconti, family of, XII. 474.
Viscount, XXL 660.
Vishna, V. 176.
Vishnou, XXI. 660 ; V. 636 ; VIL 696,
698 ; XL 399; XV. 678.
Visiapour, IV. 540.
Visier, Turkish, XXL 660, 421.
Vision, XVII. 579, 667 ; XIII. 841;
XIV. 610; XVI. 348, 511—observa¬
tions on the new theory of, I. 65—a
fallacy in Berkeley’s work on, 244 —
chief aim of Berkeley’s work, 164—
misapprehensions of the ancients on
this subject, ib.— Voltaire’s explana¬
tion of, 165—progress made previously
to Berkeley, 167—acute in the Arabs,
HI. 330-1—Aristotle on, 507—effects
of galvanism on, XXI. 681—illusions
of, XVII. 671—ocular spectra, 672—
second sight, XX. 70; III. 304 —
sense of sight in brutes. III, 165 ;
XVII. 703, et seq.; ants. III. 240;
bees, IV. 523; Crustacea, VII. 408;
insects, IX. 79. See Apparitions,
Blind, Eye, Optics.
Vistula, Polish river, XXL 660 ;
XVIII. 690 ; XIX. 566.
Vital powers of plants, XXI. 586.
Vital principle. See Life.
Vitellius, Roman emperor, XIX. 404.
Vitello on optics, XVI. 350.
Vitelium, in botany, V. 51.
Vitellus of seeds, XII. 75.
Viterbo, in Italy, XXL 660.
Vitoria, Spanish city, XXI. 661 —
battle of, V. 534.
Vitreous humour of eye, II. 799.
 electricity, VIII. 576, 578—dis¬
covery of, 567.
Vitrified Forts. See Forts.
Vitrina, mollusca, XV. 348, 358.
Vitriol, XXI. 661—in mineralogv,
XV. 138.
  (blue), or copperas, IV. 720 ;
VII. 312—a preventive of dry rot,
VIII. 232.
 (green), XV. 138.
   (Dantzic), sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
Vitriolated, XXI. 661.
Vitruvius Pollio (Marcus), XXI. 661
—his character as an architect, III.
403—on architecture, 406—on the
YIT—YOL
origin of the Doric, Ionic, and Corin-
thian orders, 415, 416—little merit
of his works, 424—modern followers
of, ib., 451—revival of his architec¬
tural rules in Italy, 425—on dials
VII. 758—on encaustic painting, VIIL
697. See the article Architecture
passim.
Vitry-le-Francais, XXI. 661.
Vittobia, in Sicily, XXL 661.
 , in Spain. See Vitoria.
Viverra, in zoology, XIV. 118.
Vives, a disease of cattle, XXL 622.
 (Ludovicus), I. 15—the ancients
and moderns compared by, 30.
Viviaui, III. 288; IV. 386; XIV. 3H
—his restoration of the Conics of
Apollonius, XX. 358.
Vivianiese, in botany, V. 99.
Viviparous animals, XXI. 661.
VlZAGAPATAM, XXI. 661.
VlZIADROOG, XXI. 662.
VlZIANAGUR, XXI. 662.
Vizierabad, Hindu town, XXL 662.
Vizir, Turkish, XXL 660, 421.
Vizzini, Neapolitan city, XXI. 662.
Viacq (Adrian), on logarithms, XIII.
419, 431.
Vladimir, XIX. 530.
Vlagman, fish, XII. 179.
Vlissingen, Dutch town, XXL 662.
Vocabulary, XXI. 662.
Vocal, XXI. 662.
Vocalize, in music, XXI. 662.
Vocative case, XXI. 662; X. 643.
Vochysiace*, in botany, V. 108.
\ oet (Gisbert), XXI. 662—his enmity
to Descartes, VI. 182.
 (John), professor, XXI. 662.
Vogel, island, XXL 662.
Voghera, in Sardinia, XXI. 662.
Vogt on rare books, IV. 625.
Vohitsanghombe, II. 595.
Voice, XXI. 663 ; XVII. 5S0, 682-
organs of, in man, II. 805 ; in brutes,
HI. 28—compasses of voices and in¬
struments, XV. 618.
 , in grammar, XXI. 663.
Void. See Vacuum.
Voiders, in heraldry, XL 251.
Voightland, in Saxony, XXI. 663.
Voiron, French city, XXI. 663.
Volcanoes, XVII. 513—iEtna, II. 199
—of North America, 614 ; the Andes,
609 ; III. 117 ; the Azores, IV. 263;
Bourbon, V. 149; Chili, VI. 525;
Europe, IX. 407; Iceland, XII. 143,
146-7; Japan, 511 ; the Lipari
Islands, XIII. 369 ; XX. 779 ; Luzon,
XIII. 604 ; Mexico, XIV. 797 ; Ni¬
caragua, XVI. 201; Quito, XVIH.
796 ; Stromboli, XX. 779 ; XIII.
369 ; Teneriffe, VI. 73—Bergman’s
analysis of the products of, IV. 583
—Sir H. Davy on, VII. 642—con*
sidered geologically, XV.226 -geogra¬
phical distribution of, ib.—active and
extinct, 227—volcanic products, 228
—connexion of earthquakes and, 229
-—hypothesis of volcanic action, 230 ;
XVII. 515—changes on the earth’s
surface produced by, 512—ashes car¬
ried to a distance from, XIX. 59-
mud and air volcanoes, XVII. 515;
XII. 147. See Vesuvius, &c.
Volconda, Hindu town, XXI. 663.
Volery, XXI. 663.
Volga, river, XXI. 663 ; XIX. 565.
Volhynia, in Russia, XXI. 663.
Volition, XIV. 688 ; XVII. 674—nerves
of, 580, 593. See Will.
Volkonskoi, forest of, XIX. 563.
Volney on Palmyra, XVI. 774.
Vologeses, XVII. 105.
Volones, slaves, XXI. 663.
Volt, in the manege, XXI. 663.
Volta (Alex.), I. 621—his invention of
the pile known by bis name, 623 ;
XXI. 664 ; VIII. 572—experiments of,
573, 604—bis theory of bail, 622 —
his electrophorus, 643—condensing
electrometer, 651—flame-electrome¬
ter, 659—electrical lamp, 661—elec-
INDEX.
159
VOL—VYS
trical pistol, VIII. 662 — eudiometer,
XVII. 531.
Voltaic Electbicitt, XXI. 664—de¬
composition by means of, VII. 638-9
 rcanimation of drowned persons
by, VIII. 203—Faraday on, 575—
medical use of, 641. See Galvanism.
   Pile, XXI. 664 ; I. 623; VIII.
572.
Voltaire (F. M. A. de), XXI. 700—
his estimate of Montaigne, I. 53 ; of
La Rochefoucauld, 54—on innate
ideas, 251—clearly understood Ber¬
keley’s theory of vision, 165—Ma¬
dame de Stael’s division of his literary
life into two epochs, 277—advocated
liberty at one time and necessity at
another, 278—on the force of a mov¬
ing body, 540—helped to establish
the Newtonian philosophy in France,
577—his character of Bayle, IV. 467;
of La Bruyere, V. 618—his commen¬
tary on Beccaria, IV. 504—his visit
to Congreve, VII. 217—his History
of the Crusades, 487—on the Italian
opera, VIII. 157—his improvement
of theatrical costume, 165—his dra¬
matic works, ib.—on Dry den, 223 —
his connexion with Frederick II., X.
228—Gibbon’s visit to, 505—on the
moral doctrines of Christ, XII. 562—
his opinion of Machiavel, XIII. 648—
his feelings towards Montesquieu,
XV. 430—on happiness, XVIII. 52
—poetry of, 166—romances of, XIX.
354.
Voltameter, or volta-electrometer, de¬
scription of Faraday’s, XXI. 674.
Voltatype, XXI. 682.
Volterra, Italian city, XXI. 702.
Volucella, insect, IX. 276.
Volume, XXI. 702.
Voluntary, in music, XXI. 702.
 Motion, XVII. 580, 674—pecu¬
liar to animals, III. 157.
Volunteers in 1803, V. 518.
Volupsa, VIII. 410.
Voluspa, XV. 683.
Voluta, mollusca, XV. 346.
Volutada;, mollusca, XV. 364.
Volute, in architecture, XXI. 702 ;
III. 471—Ionic, 439, 472.
Volva, in botany, V. 56.
Volvaria, inollusca, XV. 346.
Volvox, genus of animalcules, III. 186.
Vomer, bone of the head, II. 778.
  , fish, XII. 186.
Vomiting, XXI. 702.
Von Horten, IV. 236.
Von Troil’s account of Iceland, XII.
144, 145.
Voracity, cases of, VIII. 23—of the pike,
HI. 144. See Gluttony.
Voralbeiig, in Austria, XXI. 702.
Vorstius (Conrad), XXI. 702.
Vosges, in France, XXI. 703.
Vossius (Gerard John), German scho¬
lar, XXI, 703.
" • (Isaac), XXI. 704—Scaligerana
published by, II. 675.
Votive Medals, XXL 704.
Vourla, in Asia Minor, XXL 704.
Vouziers, V. 155.
Vow, XXI. 704.
V owels, XXI. 704—pronunciation of,
XVil. 683.
Voysey on diamonds, VIII. 4.
Vukovar, a market-town in Hungary,
XXI. 704.
Vulcan, Pagan god, XXL 704.
Vulcano, island, XXL 704.
Vulgar fractions, HI. 557.
Vulgate translation of the Bible, XXI.
704; IV. 615; XIX. 790.
Vulsella, in eonchology, XV. 341.
Vulture, XVI. 558 —bearded, 560 —
black, 559 —Californian, 558—cinere¬
ous, ib.—fulvous, 558—gingi, 560-
king, 559—its sagacity in discovering
carcasses, II. 292.
Vulturidae, birds, XVI. 558.
Vulva, II. 826.
Vyschnei Volotschok, canal of, IV. 331.
X
WAA—WAL
w
W, letter of the alphabet, XXI. 705.
Waadt, or Vaud, XXI. 565.
Waag, river, XXL 705.
Waal, river, XXI. 705.
Wabash, river, XII. 265.
Wachendorfiese, in botany, V. 133.
Wadan, IX. 530.
Wade (Thomas), on Dry Rot, VIII. 227,
228,232.
Waders, birds, XVI. 614.
Wadey Abassi—el Arkik—el Kebir,
—Elmahan—Faran—Zebid, rivers,
XXI. 705.
Wadjo, in Celebes, XXL 705.
Wady, Arabian guardian, III. 334.
Wady Magara, ancient inscriptions at,
XII. 291.
Wafers, XXI. 705.
Waftxb, island, XXL 705.
Wageeo, island, XXI. 705.
Wagers, law of, X. 312.
Wages, VII. 394 ; XVIII. 287, 298—in
Dumbartonshire, VIII. 259 ; Greece,
X. 732 ; Rome, XIX. 436; Switzer¬
land, XXI. 50 ; the United States,
461—acts regulating, VII. 335, n.—
their increase reduces the profit of
stock, 345—effect of high price of
provisions on, ib.—wages in 1770,
1811, and 1832, 346—pernicious ef¬
fects of paying wages out of poor-rates,
VIII. 791—effect of their fluctuation
on value, XVIII. 294—effects of their
rise on labourers, 416—taxes on, XXI.
104—variations in the natural rate
of, ib.—supply of labour not speedily
accommodated to those variations,
ib.—advantages of a rise of, 105—
disadvantages of a fall, ib.—raised by
taxes on raw produce, 115—of wool¬
len-manufacturers, 936.
Waggon, XXI. 705—agricultural, II.
269—for collieries, VII. 81.
Wagler (Dr), on birds, XVI. 553.
Wagnagur, Hindu towm, XXI. 705.
Wagnerte, specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Wagram, battle of, X. 152.
Wagtail, bird, XVI. 576.
Wagur, in Hindustan, XXI. 705.
Wahabis, III. 343 ; VIII. 499, n. 2 ;
500, 501 ; XXI. 64.
Wahi, Hindu town, XXI. 705.
Wahlenberg on arctic plants, XVII. 546.
Waifs, in law, XXI. 705.
Waigatz, island, XXI. 705.
 (Straits of), XXI. 706.
Wailes (Mr), on entomology, IX. 106.
Wainfleet, in Lincoln, XXI. 706.
Wainscot, in joinery, XXI. 706.
Waitemata, in New Zealand, XXI. 983.
Waits, XXI. 822.
Wake of a ship, XXL 706. ,
Wakefield, town in Yorkshire, XXI.
706—battle of, VIII. 735.
  (Edward Gibbon), on coloniza¬
tion, XXI 976.
 (Gilbert), XXL 706 — Her¬
mann’s character of, VII. 546, n. 7.
  (Mr), on the Irish corn-laws,
VII. 344—on the effects of the cot¬
tage-system in Ireland, 390.
Wakes, XXL 708.
Walachia, XXI. 709 — language of,
XIII. 88 — weights and measures of,
XXL 856.
Walachians in Greece, X. 738.
Walaja, Hindu town, XXI. 710.
Walby’s travels, XX. 712.
Walcheren, Dutch island, XXI. 710—
British expedition to, V. 528.
Walekiere de St Amand, his electrical
machine, VIII. 643.
Waldai, in Russia, XXL 710.
Waldeck, in Germany, XXI. 710.
Waldegrave Islands, XXI. 711.
Waldenses, or Valdenses, XXI. 539,
547 ; II. 382.
WAL
Waldo (Peter), XXL 545.
Waldoborough, in Maine, XIV. 44.
Waldstiitten See, XXI. 46.
Wales, XXI. 711—extent of the acre
in, II. 127—horses of, 317—cattle,
324—invaded by Egbert, VIII. 702—
conquered by Edward the First, 725
—Owen Glendower’s insurrections,
732—-population, 798—fisheries, IX.
604—inoculation for the small-pox,
XII. 283—iron-making, XII. 431,
441; XX. 409—iron, XV. 246—Cal-
vinistic methodists, XIV. 754—coal,
XV. 244—Welsh language, V. 295;
XIII. 87; XVIL 378, 4 14—bibles,
IV. 619. See Denbighshire, &e.
 (Prince of), XI. 256 ; XIX. 514.
   (New South). See New.
Walker on the revival of the drama in
Italy, VIII. 153, 158.
  (James), on the best form of
carriage-wheels, XIV. 440.
  (Dr), his observations on the
sap of plants, XXI. 571.
Walker’s rope-machine, XIX. 467.
Walking, act of, XVII. 617—muscles
employed in, II. 797.
Walkj, in Russia, XXI. 722.
Wallace (Sir William), XXI. 722;
XI. 234 ; XIX. 709.
  (Prof.), his expression for the
reciprocal of an arc, II. 498—his
eidograph, XVII. 1.
  (Mr), his character of Hector
Boyce, V. 160.
Wallachia. See Walachia.
Wallenstein (General), XXI. 19.
Waller (Edmund), XXL 723—poetry
of, XVIII. 170.
 (Sir William), V. 352.
Wallerius, IV. 583.
Wallerstadt, lake of, XXI. 46.
Wallich (Dr), his botanical labours in
India, &c., V. 77, n. 2.
Wallingford, in Berks, XXI. 726.
Wallington, in Surrey, XXI. 726.
Wallis (John), XXI. 726 ; I. 589 ;
XIV. 318—his Arithmetic of Infinites,
I. 518 ; IX. 632—was the first who
founded a system of statics on the
equality of the opposite momenta, I.
535—on conic sections, VII. 219—on
mechanics, XIV. 351—on the quad¬
rature of the circle, XX. 555.
 (Captain), his visit to Otaheite,
XVIII. 325.
Wallis’s Island, XXI. 727.
Walls, pressure against, XIV. 294—-re¬
sistance of, 295—construction of, 296.
See Building.
Wallsend, English village, XXL 727.
Wallubghur, XXI. 727.
Wally, XX. 94.
Walmer, village in Kent, XXI. 727.
Walmesley completed the Newtonian
theory of the moon, I. 664—sketch of
his life, ih.
Walnut-tree, XVII. 789—culture of, XI.
650.
Walnut-peels, a dye-stuff, VIII. 331.
Walpole (Horace), XXI. 728—Wal-
poliana, or literary conversation of,
II. 676—patronised pointed architec¬
ture, III. 431—his Mysterious Mother,
VIII. 176,275, m. 4—on gardening, X
318, et seq.—on ancient MSS., XIII.
288—romances of, XIX. 342—his so¬
licitation for Theodore, XXI. 201.
   (Sir Robert), XXL 727—his
plan for lessening the national debt,
V. 377—his excise-scheme, 378; XXI.
98—his resignation, V. 379.
Walrus, XIV. 125—its tusks, XII. 490
—structure, XVIL 705.
Walsall, in Staffordshire, XXI. 729—
manufactures of, XX. 558.
Walsh (William), critic, XXI. 729.
   (Mr), on the Bulgarians, V.
74)1.
    (Mr), on the electricity of the
torpedo, I. 622 ; VIII. 610, and gym-
notus electricus, 612.
Walsham (North), XXI. 730.
WAL—WAR
Walsingham, a market-town in Nor¬
folk, XXI. 730, 915.
 (Sir Francis), XXI. 730.
 (Thomas), XXI. 730.
Waltham, in Massachusetts, XIV. 305.
 Abbey, in Essex, XXL 730.
Walthamstow, in Essex, XXI. 730.
Walther, astronomer, III. 736.
Walton (Isaac), XXI. 730—on angling,
III. 135, 138, 142, 147-8—editions of
his Complete Angler, 149.
   (Bryan), XXI. 731—his Poly¬
glot! Bible, IV. 623.
Wai.ton-on-Thames, XXI. 732.
Waluru, Hindu town, XXI. 732.
Wamar, island, XXI. 732.
Wamba, king of the Goths, XX. 493.
Wanderou, in zoology, XIV. 93.
Wandia, Hindu town, XXI. 732.
Wandicotta, XXI. 732 ; X. 313.
Wandipoor, XXI. 732.
Wandiwash, XXI. 732.
Wandle, river, XX. 847.
Wandsworth, in Surrey, XXI. 732.
Wankaneer, Hindu town, XXI. 732.
Wanlockhead, in Dumfriesshire, XXL
732—lead mines of, VIII. 262.
Wanny, in Ceylon, XXI. 732.
Wanstead, in Essex, XXI. 7 32.
Wantage, in Berkshire, XXI. 732.
Wapentake, XXI. 733.
Wapiti, in zoology, XIV. 159.
War, XXI. 733—use of balloons in, II.
191, 195—among the North Ameri¬
can Indians, 621—history of, III. 579
— effects of the invention of gun¬
powder on, VI. 614—chivalry impair¬
ed by the civil wars in France and
England, 614 — colonies a grand
source of, VII. 123—power of govern¬
ments strengthened by, 124—effect
of war-expenditure on price of com¬
modities and income of individuals,
161—bad effects of, 166—pernicious
to trade, 168, 169, 172—attack in
column, IX. 712, n.—rights of nations
in time of, XIII. 139—What is requi¬
site to make a war just ? 140—What
are just modes of carrying it on ? ib.
—Machiavelli on the art of, 646—
royal prerogative of making, XVIIL
521—wars of ants, III. 243 ; of bees,
IV. 530. See Army, Tactics, Pelopon¬
nesian War, Thirty Years’ War, &<:.
War-horse, XL 592.
War-taxes, X. 254.
Warankul, Hindu city, XXI. 770.
Wararsdin, in Austria, XXI. 770.
Warbeck (Perkin), VIII. 741—his pro¬
ceedings in Ireland, XII. 361—his
visit to Scotland, XIX. 718.
Warbler, bird, XVI. 576.
Warblers in the horse, XXI. 637.
Warburton (William), XXI. 770; XX.
813 — his opinion of Malebranehe’s
talents, I. 80—his hostility to Dr
Clarke, 146—Bowyer’s controversy
with, V. 157—on the Jewish igno¬
rance of a future state, VI. 626—on
.TEneas’s descent to hell, X. 508—on
hieroglyphics, XI. 302—his connec¬
tion with Hurd, XI. 758-9—on logic,
XIII. 459—on mysteries, XV. 658—
on ancient punctuation, XVIII. 730—
his theory of sacrifice, XIX. 602—
on the Lord’s Supper, XX. 818—his
attack on Dr Taylor, XXI. 128—on
eternal rewards and punishments, 213
—his work on Grace, 859.
Ward, XXI. 773.
  (Seth), XXI. 773—astronomi¬
cal system of, I 495.
 (Henry), his equation-clock, VI.
783—his pendulum, XVII. 214.
  (Mr), on Mexican agriculture,
XIV. 802—on the Mexican mines,
XV. 260.
Warden, XXI. 773.
Wardlaw (Henry), XXI. 508.
Wardrobe, XXI. 773.
Wardship, in chivalry, XXI. 774.
Ware, in Hertfordshire, XXI. 774.
Waree, island, IV. 572.
160
INDEX
WAR—WAT
Waiieham, in Dorsetshire, XXI. 774.
Warehousing-system, XXI. 98.
Wargentin, astronomical labours of,
III. 746—on the rate of mortality in
Sweden, XY.516.
Waring (Edward), I. 596 ; XIV. 328.
Warkworth, XXI. 774.
Warltire (Mr), on the chemical influ¬
ence of electricity, VIII. 628.
Warming, XXI. 774 — of hot-houses,
XI. 653—by steam, XX. 604-5—of
baths, 607 —of houses, XXI. 597.
See Stove.
Warminster, in Wilts, XXL 776.
Warnawin, in Russia, XXI. 776.
Warp, XXL 777, 824.
Warping, fertilization of land by, II. 305.
 , in river navigation, XVI. 35.
Warran, XVI. 517.
Warrant, XXL 777.
Warranty, in law, XXL 777.
Warre, in Benin, XVI. 223.
Warree, in Hindustan, XXL 777.
Warren, XXI. 777; XX. 301, n.
 (Sir J. B.), V. 538.
Warrington, XXI. 777.
Warrior, Hindu town, XXI. 777.
Warsaw, XXI. 777—libraries in, XIII.
315—prison of, XVIII. 584—taken
by Charles XII., XXI. 22 — grand
duchy of, XVIII. 207.
Wartha, river, XIX. 566.
Warton (Joseph), XXI. 778—his charge
of plagiarism against Dr Conyers
Middleton, IV. 553.
  (Thomas), XXI. 779—on the
scarcity and value of books in the
middle ages, IV. 774—on Rowley’s
Poems, VI. 336—on Dunbar’s poetry,
VIII. 271.
Warts on the domestic animals, treat¬
ment of, XXI. 637.
Warwick, English town, XXI. 781—
Birmingham Canal, XVI. 21—Nap-
ton Canal, ib.
 (Earl of). See Dudley (Sir R.).
Warwickshire, XXI. 782.
Warye, Hindu town, XXI. 783.
Wasa, in Finland, XXI. 783.
Wash, in distilling, XXI. 783.
Washing-machine, XIV. 41.
Washington, American city, XXI. 783;
XIV. 274—captured by the British in
1814, V. 538.
 , in Kentucky, XII. 698.
 (George), XXI. 783. See Ame¬
rican War.
 (Lieut.), his account of Morocco,
XV. 503.
 (Mount), XVI. 163.
Wasie, in Russia, XXI. 784.
Wasilkow, in Russia, XXI. 784.
Wasps, IX. 231—Dr Anderson’s propos¬
ed method of destroying, III. 113—
endeavour to bite and sting after de¬
capitation, 164—hostile to the bee,
IV. 533—instincts of, XII. 297—their
sting poisonous, XIV. 507.
Wassah, Hindu town, XXI. 784.
Wassota, Hindu fortress, XXI. 784.
Waste-Book, IV. 717, 789.
Wastes, their reduction to cultivation,
II. 312. See Bogs.
Watch, VI. 786 ; XI. 565—striking me¬
chanism of, VI. 781—fusee of, XIV.
365—improvements on, XIII. 558—
lever and repeating watches, VI. 795
—Mr Atwood on balances, IV. 188—
watchmaking in the cantons of Neu-
chiitel and Geneva, XXI. 49.
Watchet, in Somerset, XXI. 784.
Watching (night), XVI. 223.
Watechoo, island, XXI. 784.
Water, XXI. 784—compressibility of,
1. 607; II. 114; VI. 104; XII. 9—
transmission of sound by, II. Ill,
114—celerity of sound through, 114
—eruption of, from Mount iEtna,
206—scarce in Arabia, III. 324, et
temperature of boiling water ap¬
plied to the measurement of heights,
IV. 401—discovery of composition of,
VI. 262 ; VIII. 629 ; XXI. 818- che-
WAT
mical character of, VI. 363, 437—
modes of cooling it, VII. 58, et seq.—-
congelation of, 61; XI. 189—artificial
congelation, 191, 196 ; VII. 62, 504 ;
XIII. 247—loses its air in the act of
freezing, VII. 61—Dr Wollaston’s ex¬
periments and electrical apparatus
for the decomposition of, VIII. 630
—embankments against, 676; XVII.
525; XII. 15 ; XIX. 284—alimentary
qualities of, VIII. 20—difficulty of
breathing caused by pressure of, 60
—in gardening, X. 323, 326—heating
hot-houses, dwellings, &c., with, XI.
654 ; XXI. 774—mechanical powers
and properties of, XII. 1—pressure
and equilibrium of, 10—specific gra¬
vity of sea and other waters, 37—
water in motion, 51—jets of, 58, 66
—machines for raising, 96—machines
in which it is the chief agent, 106—
traffic in water in Lombardy, XIII.
471—London water-companies, 507
—importance of supply of potable
water, XIV. 511—fresh and sea water,
in mineralogy, XV. 137—economy of,
in canals, XVI. 33—ordeal by, 519—
distribution of land and water on the
globe, XVII. 499, 516—ebullition of,
in air-pump, XVIII. 87 — air com¬
bined with, 97—motion of, in pipes,
110—why rendered scarce by frost,
121—stowage of, in ships, XX. 56—
necessary to vegetation, XXI. 571—
decomposed by galvanism, 678—holy
water, 784. See Aqueduct, Deluge,
Evaporation, Filter, Fluids, Hydrau¬
lics, Hydrodynamics, Hydrostatics,
Irrigation, Mineral Waters, Pipes,
Pump, Resistance of Fluids, Sea, Ri¬
ver,' River-Water, Spring, Steam, Wa¬
ter-works, Wave.
Water in the head and chest. See Hy¬
drocephalus, Hydrothorax.
Water-clock, VI. 738 ; VII. 524 ; XII.
57, 108—Amontons on the, II. 664.
Water-colours, drawing in, VIII. 184.
Waterfalls, XVII. 525—in Cardigan¬
shire, VI. 137—fall of Niagara, 59 ;
XVI. 199; XVII. 522, 524, 525—
of Tequendama, 525 ; III. 118; IV.
732.
Water-gauges of boilers, XX. 679.
Water-hens, XVI. 626, 627.
Water-ouzel, bird, XVI. 573.
Water-rail, bird, XVI. 627.
Water-Spout, XXI. 784 ; XVII. 542
—electrical origin of, VIII. 622—the¬
ory of, XII. 135.
Water-ways of a ship, XX. 284, 294.
Water-wheels, XII. 82; XXI. 799,807;
XIV. 349—mode of fixing the arms
of, 809.
Water-works, XXI. 785—Crawley,
VIII. 427—Greenock, X. 764—Lon¬
don, XIII. 508. See Aqueduct, Hy¬
draulics, Pipes.
Waterford, Irish county, XXI. 809.
 , city, XXI. 812—besieged by
Cromwell, XII. 371.
Watering-places. See Mineral Springs.
Waterland, island, XXI. 813.
  (Daniel), XXI. 813—on the
Athanasian creed, IV. 113.
Waterlandians, XIV. 561.
Waterloo, XXL 813—battle of, V.
540; XVI. 128; XXL 751—illustra¬
tive plan, ib.—conduct of the British
infantry at battle, III. 622.
Waterloo-bridge, in London, V. 281;
XIII. 511 ; XIX. 122.
Waterton on the armadillo, XIV. 143—
on birds, XVI. 552, 570, 579.
Watford, town in Herts, XXI. 813.
Watkins (Francis), on electro-magnet-
ism, XIII. 762—his electro-magnetic
apparatus, XXL 684, 686—his ther¬
mo-electric pile, 699.
Watling Street, IV. 586 ; XXL 821.
Watlington, XXL 813.
Watson (Geo.), his Hospital, VIII. 425.
 (John), his Hospital, VIII. 425.
 (Dr Joseph), on the education of
WAT—WEB
the deaf and dumb, VII. 647, 649,
653, et seq.
Watson (Mr), on bone-manure, II. 302.
 (Richard), XXI. 813.
 (Robert), historian, XXI. 813.
  (Sir William), on electricity,
VIII. 568.
Watt (James), XXL 815; X. 554—in¬
troduced into Britain the use of chlo¬
rine in bleaching, IV. 679, 680, 681
—his connexion with Mr Boulton, V.
148—on the application of the steam-
engine to cotton-spinning, VII. 404—
on heat, XI. 191—on the steam-en¬
gine, XX. 570—his experiments on
the elastic force of steam, 580—on
latent heat, 601—his history of his
improvements upon the steam - en¬
gine, 632-5—illustrations and details
of those improvements, 635 — his
pumping-engine of 1768, 637—his en¬
gine of revolution, 639—his own ac¬
count of it, 640—his description of
the Albion Mill engines, 641—no ma¬
terial improvement of the steam-en¬
gine subsequently to, 642—his paral¬
lel motion, 657.
 (R.)> prosecution of, V. 476.
 (Dr Robt.), on the mortality of
children, XV. 525.
Wattle-bird, XVI. 585.
Watts (Isaac), XXI. 821.
Wauchope (General), VIII. 497.
Waufgorm, Hindu town, XXI. 821.
Waugur, in Hindustan, XXI. 821.
Waujpore, Hindu town, XXI. 821.
Waussim, Hindu town, XXI. 821.
Waves of the sea, XXI. 821 ; XVII.
516—oscillation of waves, XII. 3, 4, 6,
81 ; XVIII. 120—velocity of the tide-
wave, XV. 178.
 (aerial), XVIII. 120. See Acous¬
tics, Atmosphere.
Wavellite, Sir H. Davy on, VII. 638—
specific gravity of, XII. 37.
Waveney, river, XVI. 245—its naviga¬
tion, XVI. 21.
Wawa, in Africa, II. 238.
Wawul, Hindu village, XXI. 821.
Wax of bees, XXL 821 ; IV. 520—of
the ear, II. 801—bleaching of, IV.
692—painting in, VIII. 694—produced
by insects, IX. 207—specific gravity
of, XII. 37 — Mexican, XIV. 801—
wax-candles, VI. 77—sea-wax, 444—
sealing wax, XXI. 821.
Wax-wing, bird, XVI. 570.
Way, XXI. 821. See Roads.
Wayghtes, XXI. 822.
Waygiou, XXI. 705.
Wayte, island, XXL 822.
Waywode, XXI. 822.
Wealth defined, XVIII. 259—produc¬
tion of, 272—distribution of, 286—
consumption of, 303—love of, XV.
468. See Avarice.
Wear river navigation, XVI. 21.
Wearmouth, iron bridge at, V. 279. See
Monkwearmouth.
Weart Bay, XXL 822.
Weasel, one of the mammalia, XIV. 109
—structure of, XVII. 704.
Weather, XXI. 822—cycles of, XIV.
718—moon’s influence on, 717 ; XV.
442—its effect on the human body,
XVII. 598. See Climate, Meteoro¬
logy, Rain, Temperature, &c.
Weather-glass, IV. 389 ; XII. 132;
XIV. 721 ; XVIII. 73. See Baro¬
meter.
Weather-house, XII. 111. See Hygro¬
meter.
Weatherby’s Stud-Book, XL 580.
Weaver, river in Cheshire, VI. 509—its
navigation, XVI. 21.
Weavers, health of, XIV. 510—hand-
loom, X. 558.
Weaving, XXI. 823—in Switzerland,
49—of tapestry, 78—of wool, 933.
See Cotton-manufacture, Design, Silk-
manufacture, Woollen-manufacture.
Weavish (Ben), mountain, XIX. 485.
Web of cloth, XXL 832.
WEB—WEM
Web-footed birds, XVI. 628.
Webb (Capt.), on the Himalaya Moun¬
tains, XI. 370.
Weber (Carl Maria Von), XXI. 832.
 (Mons.), on waves, XII. 7.
 (Prof.),on cutaneous sensibility,
XVII. 661.
Webster (Dr Alexander), XXL 834.
Weckerus on ink, XII. 281.
Wedemsyer on the capillaries, II. 725.
Wedge, in mechanics, XIV. 367, 454.
 Island, XXI. 834.
Wedging, in carpentry, V. 684.
Wedgwood (Josiah), XVIII. 501; XX.
558—his pyrometer, I. 647 ; XVIII.
750—importance of his inventions in
pottery, V. 429.
Wedmore, in Somerset, XXI. 834.
Wednesbury, in Stafford, XXL 834-
manufactures of, XX. 558.
Wednesday, XXL 834—origin of the
word, XVIII. 337—Ash-Wednesday,
XXI. 834.
Weed, disease of horses, XXI. 632.
Week, XXL 834 ; VI. 3; XIX. 596-
Passion-Week, XXI. 834.
Weere, in Hindustan, XXI. 834.
Weever, fish, XII. 170.
Weevil, victualling-establishments at,
VIII. 85.
Weighing-Machines, XXL 834. See
Balance.
Weight, XXI. 840 ; XIV. 356—of hu¬
man body, II. 758—gross and nett,
III. 555—effect of air on, XVIII. 94.
See Gravity, Weights.
 , in phrenology, XVII. 464.
Weighton, in Yorkshire, XXI. 840.
Weights and Measures, XXI. 840—
Brazilian, V. 210—modern Egyptian,
VIII. 524—tables of, III. 544 ; XXI.
846, 850—Beccaria’s plan of, IV. 506
—new system of, established by the
French Convention, X. 83—present
French, 193 ; XIII. 12 — Russian
weights, XIX. 564, ».—assay-weights,
III. 712—Dr Cumberland on Jewish
weights, VII. 540.
Weimar, German city, XXL 856—Na¬
poleon at, X. 601.
Weirs in rivers, XIX. 285.
Weisk, in Russia, XXI. 856.
Weiss’s speculum, XX. 822, n.
Weissemburg, a blind man, IV. 701.
Weissenstein, in Russia, XXI. 856.
Weitbrecht, his experiments on capillary
attraction, XII. 40.
Weld, II. 295; VIII. 319.
Welding of iron, VI. 403.
Weldon, in Northampton, XXL 856.
Welikijo-Luki, in Russia, XXI. 856.
Welish, in Russia, XXI. 856.
Welks, XV. 373.
Well, XXI. 857—of a ship, ib.
Well-sinkers, diseases of, XIV. 510.
Welland Canal, VI. 64 ; XVI. 27.
 , English river, XVI. 251—navi¬
gation of, 21.
Welles, Sir Robert, VIII. 736.
Wellesley (Marquis of), V. 527—his ad¬
ministration in India, XI. 432—his
character of Mr Pitt, XVII. 768.
Wellesley’s Islands, XXI. 857.
Wellingborough, XXI. 857.
Wellington, English town, XXL 857.
 (Arthur, Duke of), his Spanish
campaigns and tactics, V. 525, etie?-!
XXI. 739—his conferences with Can¬
ning about the formation of a minis¬
try, 569—his opposition to Canning’s
corn-bill, 571—his administration, ib-
—his conduct relative to Catholic
emancipation, 574 — his declaration
against parliamentary reform, 580—
his resignation as premier, 581—his
operations in India, XI. 435.
Wells, English towns, XXL 857.
 (Dr), on dew, VII. 753; XI-
185; XVII. 537.
Welshpool, XXL 857.
Welter (Monsieur), his indigo-test in
bleaching, IV. 685.
Wem, town in Shropshire, XXI. 857.
INDEX
161
WEM—WHA
Wemtss (Easter and Wester), XXI. 857.
Wenckon the Theodosian Code, VI. 716.
Wenden, in Livonia, XXI. 857.
Wendover, town in Bucks, XXI. 858.
Wenew, in Russia, XXI. 858.
Wenlock, in Shropshire, XXI. 858.
Wenner, lake, XXI. 29.
Wentworth (Thomas), Earl of Strafford,
V. 314; XI. 249, n. 6—impeachment
of, V. 317—his government of Ire¬
land, XII. 367, 403.
Wentzel, his experiments and work on
the analysis of salts, VI. 352.
Wenzels on the human brain, II. 736;
XVII. 660.
Weobey, in Herefordshire, XXI. 858.
Wepfer’s anatomical researches, II. 699.
Werad, Hindu town, XXI. 858.
Werhen, battle of, XXI. 18.
Werchne-Dniaprowsk, XXI. 858.
Wereja, in Russia, XXL 858.
Werk, siege of castle of, V. 627.
Werner (John), mathematician, I. 436 ;
III. 737 ; X. 430.
 , geologist, XV. 188.
 , Swedish lake, XXL 388-9.
  (Monsieur), his Ornithological
Atlas, XVI. 552.
Wernerite, in mineralogy, XV. 153.
Wernigerode, XXI. 858.
Werrear, in Hindustan, XXL 858.
Werturian Ms. See Ural Mountains.
Wesel Bay, in Java, XXI. 858.
Wesenberg, in Russia, XXL 858.
Weser, X. 483; XL 137; XVIII. 690.
Wesley (John), XXI. 858.
Wesleyan Methodists, XIV. 751.
Wesling (John), the first delineator of
the lacteals, II. 698.
Wessel’s Islands, XXL 859.
Wessex, VIII. 701.
West, XXI. 859.
 (Benj.), character of his pictures,
III. 656; XVI. 726, 727.
 (Gilbert), XXI. 859.
West India Docks, London, VIII. 75.
West Indies, II. 648—attempts to trans¬
plant the bread-fruit into, V. 212—
British colonies in, VII. 124—exports
from Britain to, 161—Danish colo¬
nies in, 728—Edwards’s History of,
VIII. 452—sugar-cane of, XX. 791
—weights and measures of, XXL 856
—map of, PI. 501. See Slavery, Cuba,
Domingo (St), Jamaica, &c.
West Island, XXL 860.
West-Bromwich, in Stafford, XXI.860.
Westbcry, in Wilts, XXI. 860.
 Circle, IV. 109.
Westeras, in Sweden, XXI. 860.
Westerham, town in Kent, XXL 860.
Western Port, XXL 864.
Westmacott, sculptor, XX. 10.
Westmeath, Irish county, XXI. 860.
Westminster, XXL 863—the Dooms¬
day-Book kept at, VIII. 100—abbey,
HI. 428, 463; XIII. 521—bridge, V.
270,271 ; XIII. 511.
Hall, XIII. 528—architecture
of, III. 457, 475—timber of its roof,
VIII. 233.
Westmoreland, XXL 864.
Weston (Sir Richard), on agriculture,
Westphalia, XVIII. 688—treaty of, IV.
220; XL 523; XVI. 119; XVIII. 671.
Westport, Irish town, XXI. 864.
Westray, island, XXI. 864.
Westwood’s spring-barrel, VI. 800.
Wetlcga, in Russia, XXL 864.
Wetstein (John James), XXI. 865—
on the Greek accents, II. 84.
Wetter, isle, XXL 865-lake, 29.
Wetteren, town in the Netherlands,
XXL 865.
Wexford, Irish county, XXI. 865.
Wey river navigation, XVI. 21—Wey
and Arun Junction Canal, ib.
Weymouth, VIII. 119.
— (Geo.), voyage of, XVIII. 218.
wetre, Hindu town, XXL 868.
182—ambergris found in,
II. 593—its eye, III. 22-its struc-
WHA—WHI
ture, XVII. 710—whales in the Bal¬
tic, IV. 326—of Greenland, X. 759.
Whalebone, XVII. 710.
Whale-fishery, IX. 607—of Brazil, V.
209—England, VIII. 770—France,
X. 198—Lapland, XIII. Ill—New
South Wales, XXI. 720.
Whale-lice, VII. 502.
Whampoa, Chinese port, XXL 868.
Wharton (Philip, duke of), English
nobleman, XXI. 868, 967.
 (Tho.), on the glands, II. 699.
Whately (Archb.), on logic, XIII. 461
—on punishment, XVIII. 734—on
rhetoric, XIX. 200, et seq.
Wheat, IV. 295—culture of, II. 260,
280; in Chili, VI. 531; in Lom¬
bardy, XIII. 481—varieties of, II. 280
—diseases, 281—albumen, III. 75—
germination, 76—peculiarity of struc¬
ture, 77—productiveness, 78—ovu-
lum, 100—constituents, IV. 297—
laws for regulating the price of bread
by its price, 300—brewing from, V.
231—gluten of, VI. 478 — quantity
annually exported and imported, from
1697 to 1800, VII. 358—of Odessa,
XVI. 322. See Corn-Laws.
Wheat-ear, bird, XVI. 575.
Wheatly on gardening, X. 324, et seq.
Wheatstone (Mr), on voice, XVII. 683
—his electric telegraph, XXI. 138,
689—his electro-magnetic clock, ib.
—on thermo-electricity, 699.
Wheels, XXL 869—teeth of, XIV.
352, 420 ; VI. 53-of carts, II. 269—
of clocks and watches, VI. 777, et seq.
—for raising water, XII. 102 ; XVIII.
707—bevelled, XIV. 423—crown, 424
—of carriages, 439—Aristotle’s, XIX.
489 — Bramah’s patent wheel, V.
183—fly-wheel, XIV. 418 ; XX. 653
—water-wheels, XII. 82 ; XXI. 799,
807 ; XIV. 349—paddle-wheels, XX.
686, 704—wheel and axle, XIV. 364
—punishment of the wheel, XXI.
869.
Wheel-barometer, IV. 390.
Wheel-carriages. See Carriages.
Wheel-ploughs, II. 266.
Wheeler (Sir George), XXL 869.
  and Gray, their discovery of
electrical conductors and non-conduc¬
tors, 544,
Wherry, IV. 722.
Whewell (Prof.), on colours, XVI. 403
—on the absorption of light, 493—
his anemometer, XVII. 539—on the
tides, XXI. 274, et seq.
Whey, VI. 498—sp. gr. of, XII. 37.
Whey-butter, VII. 592.
Whichcot (Dr), Shaftesbury’s admira¬
tion of his sermons, VII. 306.
Whidah, XXL 870 ; XI. 30.
Whidbey’s Isles, XXI. 870.
Whidby (Mr), his plan for the Ply¬
mouth breakwater, V. 220.
Whiff, fish, XII. 220.
Whigs, XXL 338—origin of, V. 308—
origin of the name, 349.
Whimbrel, bird, XVI. 622.
Whin-dykes in Ireland, XII. 393.
Whinchat, bird, XVI. 575.
Whinstone. See Trap.
Whipper-in, XI. 757.
Whipping, punishment of, XIV. 512—
of children at Sparta, VIII. 3 ; XX.
530.
Whirlpool, XXL 870 ; XVII. 517.
Whirlwind, XXL 870; XIV. 728 ;
XVII. 541.
Whiskers, IV. 473.
Whisky, XXI. 870—manufacture of,
VIII. 44—smuggled, 46. See Spirits.
Whist, game of, XXI. 870.
Whistle (steam), XX. 683.
Whiston (William), XXI. 870—on the
Canticles, VI. 100—on Dr Clarke,
728, 729, 730—on the Mosaic ac¬
count of the Creation, VII. 456—on
the Deluge, VII. 699.
 and Ditton’s method of finding
the longitude, XIII. 559.
will—WIL
Whitaker (John), XXL 870 XX.
783—on the history of King Arthur,
III. 631—on bull®, V. 702.
Whitbread (Mr), on the expediency of
peace with France in 1800, V. 492—
his resolutions about the navy, 520.
Whitburn, Scotch village, XXL 873.
Whitby, in Yorkshire, XXL 873.
 (Daniel), XXI. 873.
Whitchurch, XXI. 874.
White, XXL 874—varieties of, XV.
126, 127.
 (Richard), on the quadrature of
the circle, XX. 554.
  (Gilbert), of Selborne, on the
parental affection of brutes, V. 616—
on their sociality, ib., 617.
 Brethren, V. 228.
 Friars, XXL 874.
 Island, XXI. 874.
 River, in Indiana, XII. 265.
 Sea, XXL 874 ; XIX. 566.
White-bait, fish, XII. 215.
White’s pulley, XIV. 366.
White-throat, bird, XVI. 576.
Whiteboys, Irish, XII. 382.
Whitefield (George), XXI. 874—his
separation from Wesley, XIV. 753—
his visit to Scotland, XXL 834.
Whitehall, in London, XIII. 543.
Whitehaven, in Cumberland, XXI.
876—coal-mines of, VII. 537.
Whitham, in Essex, XXI. 876.
Whithorn, in Wigtonshire, XXI. 876.
Whitehorne (P.), on gunpowder, XI. 77.
Whitehurst’s machine for raising water,
XII. 100.
Whitelaw (David), his scapement, VI.
775.
Whitelock (Bulstrode), II. 586.
 (General), V. 523; XVIII. 3.
Whiting, fish, XII. 218.
Whitstable, in Kent, XXI. 876.
Whitsun-Farthings, XXI. 877.
 — Island, XXI. 877.
Whitsunday, XXI. 877.
 Cape, XXL 877.
Whitsunday’s Passage, XXI. 877.
Whitsuntide Bay, XXI. 877.
Whittlesey, XXI. 877—mere, XI. 758.
Whittlewood Forest, XVI. 251.
Whittling, fish, XII, 206.
Whitworth (Lord), his conversation with
Bonaparte, V. 513; X. 127—his ac¬
count of Bonaparte’s behaviour at the
Tuilleries, ib.; V. 515.
Whye, Hindu town, XXI. 877.
Whymea Bay, XXI. 877—Road, ib.
Whytatakee, island, XXI. 877.
Whytt (Robert), physician, XXL 877.
Wiasma, in Russia, XXI. 878.
Wiburg, in Finland, XXI. 878.
Wick, town in Caithness, XXL 878 ;
V. 781—herring-fishery of, IX. 599,
601; XIX. 770.
Wicks of lamps, XIII. 41—phenomena
of floating, XII. 46.
Wicket, XXL 878.
Wickham (Mr), V. 479.
Wickliffe (John). See Wycliffe.
Wicklow, Irish county, XXI. 878.
Wickwar, in Gloucester, XXI. 881.
Widdin, Turkish city, XXI. 881.
Wide, meanings of the word, VIII. 12.
Widgeon, bird, XVI. 634.
Widmanstadius’s Syriac Bible, IV. 616.
Wieland, XIX. 682—poetry of, XVIII.
167—romances of, XIX. 356.
Wieliczka, Austrian city, XXL 881.
Wierus, XXI. 907.
Wiesbaden, XXL 881 ; XV. 737.
Wigan, in Lancashire, XXI. 881.
Wigton, in Cumberland, XXI. 885.
 , Scotch town, XXI. 884.
Wigtonshire, XXI. 882.
Wight (Isle of), XXL 881—Needles
in the, XVI. 76.
Wilberforce (William), XXL 885—
his opposition to the slave-trade, V.
449, 454, 459, 461 ; XX. 385.
 Cape, XXL 885.
Wilcke of Stockholm, his experiments
on the distribution of heat, I. 645—
WIL
on electricity, VIII. 603—his theory
of magnetism, XIII. 773.
Wildbad, springs at, XXL 946.
Wild-fire, IX. 586.
 , a disease of sheep, XXI. 636.
Wild-fowl shooting, XX. 307.
Wildman (Mr), his hives, IV. 534.
Wileika, in Russia, XXI. 886.
Wilkes (John), XX. 427-8—prosecution
of, V. 388—elected member for Mid¬
dlesex, 391—Horne Tooke’s intimacy
with, XXL 334.
  (Lieut.), his discovery of the
Terra Australis Incognita, XXI. 186.
Wilkie (Sir D.), painter, XVI. 727.
 (William), poet, XXI. 886.
Wilkins (David), on Coptic, XI. 313.
 (John), XXI. 886—on an uni¬
versal language and a real character,
I. 46 ; II. 545—his Coptic New Tes¬
tament, IV. 616.
Wilkinson on hieroglyphics, XL 316.
Will, XXI. 887—liberty and necessity'
of the, XIV. 688 ; XX. 88 ; XVI. 69
—St Augustin’s and Descartes’s asser¬
tion of its freedom, I. 267—Kant’s
and Galiani’s arguments for the same
view, 196-7—Aristotle on its freedom,
III. 524. See Necessity, Volition.
Will-o’-the-wisp, or ignis fatuus, XII.
245; XIII. 337; XVII. 542.
Willan (Dr Robert), on mortality in
London, XV. 521.
WlLLANMEZ’s ISLE, XXI. 887.
Willdenow (Prof.), on thorns and ten¬
drils, III. 86—on botany, V. 81.
Wille, engraver, IX. 54.
William I. of England, his visit to Ed¬
ward the Confessor, VIII. 708—his
conquest of England, 709—reign of,
711-13—his submission to Aldred, II.
394—effect of his conquest on the
English language, IX. 30—his inva¬
sion of Scotland, XIX. 701—his fleet,
XX. 215.
 II. of England, Rufus, VIII.
714—Scotland invaded by, XIX. 701.
  III. of England—steps prelimi¬
nary to his invasion of England, V.
357 — his landing, 358 — appointed
king, 360—his favour towards the
dissenters, ib.; and Lord Stair, VII.
599—his expedition to Ireland, V.
363 ; XII. 377; VIII. 237—his con¬
tinental war, V. 367—his death, ib.
  and Mary, reign of, V. 360—
scheme for raising money by a Ton¬
tine, III. 208—reeoinage of silver,
VII. 37—act giving a bounty on the
exportation of corn, 336—state of the
coin, 337—navy, XVI. 42 ; XX. 226.
 IV., king of Britain, V. 579.
  the Lion, king of Scotland,
XIX. 706
 II., king of Holland, XI. 523;
XVI. 125, et seq.
 IV., Landgrave of Hesse, a cul¬
tivator of astronomy, III. 738.
  — of Malmesbury, XXI. 887.
 of Nassau, Prince of Orange,
XI. 511, et seq.i XVI. 106.
 of Newbury, XXI. 887.
 of Wykeham, XXI. 887—his
college at Winchester, 892.
Williams (John), on an ascending thun¬
derbolt, VIII. 619—on the tides in
the Pacific, XXL 281.
 (Colonel), employed in the Ord¬
nance Survey, XXI. 354, 356.
 (Roger), XIX. 223.
—— (Mr), his work on vitrified forts,
IX. 754, 758.
Williamson (Dr), of Philadelphia, on the
gymnotus electricus, VIII. 612.
Williamson’s equation-clock, VI. 782.
Willet, bird, XVI. 625.
Willich (A. F. M.), quoted on Kant’s
philosophy, I. 191.
Willis (Thomas), XXL 887—his im¬
provements in anatomy, II. 699.
 (Dr),his success in curing insa¬
nity, XIV. 586.
■ (Mr), on the voice, XVII. 683.
162
INDEX
WIL—WIN
Willis (Professor), his letter-balance,
XXI. 839.
Willoughby Cape, XXI. 888.
 (Sir Hugh), his arctic voyage of
discovery, XVIII. 216.
Willow, XIX. 619 ; XVII. 784, 789—
used in basket-making, IV. 428—cul¬
tivation of, 429—its leaves used as a
dye -stuff, VIII. 321—specific gravity
of its wood, XII. 37.
Wills (General), V. 375.
Willughby (Francis), naturalist, XXI.
888—on fishes, XII. 152—on birds,
XVI. 546, 634.
Willying-inachine, XXI. 931.
Wilmot (John), Earl of Rochester.
XXI. 888—converted to Christianity
by Bishop Burnet, V. 723.
Wilna, in Russia, XXI. 888.
Wilson (Alex.), XXI. 889—on Ameri¬
can ornithology, XVI. 550, 562, 566,
572, 582, 625.
 (Benj.), on electricity, VIII. 571.
 (Captain), on Otaheite, XVIII.
325.
 (Dr), on the solar spots. III. 782.
 (Florence), XXI. 889.
  (George), Sir James Mackin¬
tosh’s character of, VIII. 265.
  (John), of Ainsworth, his im¬
provements in the cotton-inanufac-
ture, VII. 399.
 (Dr P.), on hoar-frost, VII. 752.
 (Richard), English painter. III.
650 ; XVI. 726.
 (Thomas), bishop, XXI. 890.
Wilson’s Promontory, XXI. 890.
— hydrometric beads, XII. 24.
 hygrometer, XII. 114.
Wilton, XXI. 890—carpets, VI. 172.
Wiltshire, XXI. 890—sheep of, II.
329—Stonehenge, II. 603 ; III. 408 ;
VIII. 207 ; XII. 619, 707 ; XX. 737.
 and Berks canal, XVI. 21.
Wimbledon, in Surrey, XXI. 892.
Wimborn-Minster, XXI. 892.
Wincanton, in Somerset, XXI. 892.
Winchcombe, in Gloucester, XXI. 892.
Winchelsea, XXI. 892—Island, ib.
Winchester, XXI. 892; XI. 129.
Wind, XXI. 893; XVII. 538—cause of,
XIV. 744 —velocity of, 738, 742 ;
XVIII. 112—force of, XVII. 539 ;
XIV. 742—connexion of clouds with,
VII. 3—carriage driven by, XIV. 444
—effect of, on the barometer, 722;
on the speed of railway carriages, XIX.
45; on the velocity of sound, XX.
483; and on the sea’s level, XXI. 286
—sea and land breezes, III. 679; XIV.
745 ; XVII. 540; XVIII. 120; XX.
802—trade-winds, XIV. 746 ; XVII.
539—local winds, XIV. 746—causes
of the rain-wind, XII. 106. See At¬
mosphere, Meteorology, Monsoons,
Sirocco, &c.
Wind-sucking, a disease, XXI. 623.
Windau, IV. 330.
Windermere, lake, XIII. 52 ; XXI. 864
—fish in. III. 143, n„ 144 ; XII. 209.
Windgage. See Anemometer.
Windgalls, XXI. 616.
Windham (Mr), his opposition to the
peace of Amiens, V. 506, 510—his act
for the improvement of the army, 520.
Windlass of a ship, XXI. 893.
Windmills, XIV. 350, 352, 432—Cou¬
lomb on, VII. 426—water-wheel re¬
sembling one, XXI. 808.
Windows, XXI. 893; III. 462 ; X. 564
— stained-glass, 565, 572 — lattice,
575 —sills of, V. 675.—sashes, 689 —
shutters, 690—glazing, 694 ; X. 574.
Windpipe. See Trachea.
Windsor, town in Berkshire, XXI. 893
—Castle, IV. 586.
Windward, XXI. 893.
Wine-Making, XXI. 894.
Wines of Austria, IV. 231 ; Chili, VI.
532;Franee, X. 17 5;Georgia,&e., XIX.
589 ; Germany, X. 484 ; Greece, 727 ;
Italy, XII. 489 ; XIII. 482 ; Madeira,
671; Spain, XIV. 53; XX. 517; Wur-
WIN—WIT
temberg, XXI. 945—cooling of, VII.
58, 59, 61—low, in distillation, VIII.
51—imports of, into the United King¬
dom, 785—specific gravity of, XII.
37, 38—clarification of, VI. 727—adul¬
teration of, XIV. 508—effects of the
increase and reduction of the duties
on, XXI. 122 — champagne, XIV.
255—port, XVI. 346—tokay, XXI.
321—sweet oil of wine, VI. 439.
Winefred’s (St) well, at Holywell, XI.
535 ; XVII. 527.
Wingate (E.), on logarithms, XIII. 419.
Wingham, town in Kent, XXI. 903.
Wings of insects, IX. 73—of birds, XVI.
555; III. 12, 19.
Wing-transom, XX. 277.
Winkelmann (John), XXI. 903—on an¬
tiquities, III. 268—on the history of
art, XVI. 694, et seq.
Winkler (Professor), on electricity
VIII. 568.
Wxnkoop’s Island, XXI. 893.
Winnebago, lake, XVI. 256.
Winning of collieries, VII. 76, 81.
Winnipisiogee, lake, XVI. 163.
Winnowing-machine, II. 269. See Fan¬
ners.
Winslow, town in Bucks, XXI. 903.
 (James B.), anatomical labours
of, II. 701—on fat, 716.
Winstanley, engineer, XX. 16.
Winter, season, XXI. 903.
   (Mr), on the protection of tur¬
nips from the fly, XII. 294.
 (De). See De Winter.
Winter-berry, XVII. 787.
Wintereie, in botany, V. 95.
Winton (Andrew), prior of Lochleven,
XXI. 903—quoted, VI. 94.
Wintringham on venous tissue, II. 720.
Wipers of stampers, XIV. 424.
Wire, XXI. 904—annealing of, III. 196
—fusion of, by electricity, VIII. 627
—Wollaston’s mode of making fine,
XV. 12—its use in rigging and
bridges, XX. 56—bridge at Frey-
burg supported by cables of, XXI. 8
—zinc-wirc flexible and tenacious, III.
197—brass-wire deprived of tenacity
by acid fumes or damp air, ib.
Wire-cartridges, XX. 305.
Wire-worm, IX. 140.
Wirksworth, XXI. 904.
Wisbeach, in Cambridgeshire, XXI.
904—canal of, XVI. 16, 21.
Wisby, Swedish city, XXI. 904.
Wiscasset, in Maine, XIV. 44.
Wisconsin, a territory in North Ame¬
rica, XXI. 905.
Wisdom, XXI. 905. See Discretion.
Wiseman on surgery, XX. 829.
Wismar, in Germany, XXI. 905.
Wit, XXI. 905 ; XVII. 464.
Witchcraft, XXI. 907 ; III. 299, 301
—belief in, IV. 396, n.; XX. 812-
diseases from, XIV. 9—burnings for,
490. See Necromancy.
Witebsk, in Russia, XXI. 908.
Witena Mot, XXI. 908.
Witham river navigation, XVI. 21.
Withamite, specific gravity of, XII. 38
—optical properties of, XVI. 495.
Witherite, in mineralogy, XV. 143.
Withers of a horse, XXI. 908—fistula
of the, 616.
Witness, XXI. 908—witnesses in Eng¬
lish courts, IX. 35. See Testimony.
Witney, in Oxfordshire, XXI. 908.
Witsics (Herman), XXI. 908.
Witt (John de), Dutch statesman, XXI.
909,176; VII. 753; III. 199; V. 334;
XI. 524.
Wittenberg, in Prussia, XXI. 909.
Wittingen, wooden bridge at, VI. 292.
Wivelscombe, in Somerset, XXI. 909.
Wivenhoe, in Essex, XXI. 909.
Wladimir, or Vladimir, in Russia, XXI.
909; XIX. 530.
Wladimirsko (Theodore), XXI. 710.
Wlodzimirz, in Russia, XXI. 910.
Woad, culture of, II. 295—colouring
matter of, VI. 485.
WO A—WOM
Woahoo, island, XXI. 910.
Woburn, XXI. 910—Abbey, IV. 517.
Wodanium, specific gravity of, XII. 38.
Woden, XV. 683.
Wodeville (Anthony), XXI. 910.
Wodrow (Robert), XXI. 910—manu¬
scripts of, XIII. 301.
Wodstock, English town, XXI. 912.
Woide on Coptic, XI. 314.
Wokingham, in Berks, XXI. 912.
Wolein, in Moravia, XXI. 912.
Wolf, or Wolfius (Christian), XXI. 912
—merits of, as a philosopher and
writer, I. 188—his futile attempts to
introduce his philosophy into France,
ib.—his speculations on heat, 642, 162
—his MonumenXa Typographia, IV.
622—his theory of dreams, VIII. 188.
 , in zoology, XIV. 115.
 on Homer, XI. 542, 548.
Wolf’s eye, specific gravity of, XII. 38.
Wolfe (James), XXI. 913 — Quebec
taken by, V. 385; VI. 69.
Wolfenbuttel, German city, XXI.
913-library of, XIII. 314.
Wolfram, specific gravity of, XII. 38.
Wolfram-ore, XV. 161.
Wolga. See Volga.
Wollamai Cape, XXI. 913.
Wollaston (Rev. F. J. H.), his appara¬
tus for determining heights by the
ebullition of water, XX. 575.
  (William), XXI. 913 — on
prayer, XVIII. 505—on divine provi¬
dence, 665.
  (Rev. Dr), quoted on the solar
spots, III. 782.
 (William Hyde), XXI. 913—
his blowpipe, IV. 712—his camera
lucida, VI. 36—on the prismatic spec¬
trum, 633—his cryophorus, VII. 504
—his mode of.hardening steel, 566—
on electrical light, VIII. 584—on the
oxidating and deoxidating powers of
electricity, 628—his experiments and
apparatus for the decomposition of
water, 630—on inaudible sharp sounds,
IX. 79—on mirage, XIV. 750—his
mode of making fine ware, XV. 12—
his micrometers, 24, 26—his perisco-
pie doublet and sphere, 33—another
doublet, 35—on the illumination of
microscopic objects, 49 — on optics,
XVI. 364, 411, 414—his elementary
galvanic battery, XXI. 666—his gal¬
vanic experiments, 677.
Wolltonite, XV. 154.
Wologda, in Russia, XXI. 914.
; WOLOKOLAMSK, XXI. 915.
j Wolsey (Thomas), cardinal, XXI. 915;
VIII. 74 3-5 — his encouragement of
Oxford University, XXI. 494.
WoLSINGHAM, XXI. 915.
WOLTSCHANSK, XXI. 915.
Wolverhampton, in Staffordshire,
XXI. 915—manufactures of, XX. 558.
Wolverine, XIV. 108 ; XVI. 264.
Womat Point, XXI. 916.
Womb, or uterus, II. 826 ; XVII. 689.
Wombat, in zoology, XIV. 129 ; XXI.
554.
Women of Afghanistan, II. 216; Al¬
bania, 379 ; Arabia, III. 336 ; ancient
Athens, XX. 437 ; Austria, IV. 236 ;
Ava, 243; Barbary, 263; Beloochis-
tan, 558 ; Bogota, 735 ; Bolivia, 754;
Buenos Ayres, V. 657; Bulgaria, 701;
Chili, VI. 536, 538; China, 587 ;
Circassia, VIII. 528 ; Cochin-China,
VII. 13; Congo, 215; Crete, 465 ;
Dahomey, 587 ; Egypt, VIII. 528 ;
ancient Germany, VI. 596 ; X. 474;
ancient Greece, VIII. 148 ; modern
Greece, X. 742 ; Hindustan, XI. 404 ;
XX. 797 ; the Ionian Islands, XII.
344 ; Japan, 516; Java, 532; Ma¬
deira, XIII. 671; New Caledonia, IV.
214; New Holland, 209; New Zea¬
land, 215; the Sandwich Islands,
XVII. 320 ; Siam, XX. 322 ; Sinde,
365 ; Sparta, 528 ; Teflis, XXI. 135
—among the North American Indians,
II. 620 ; Battas, IV. 451 ; Bazeegurs,
WON—WOO
469; savages, XIII. 576 ; Tungases,
XXI. 402—introduction of women on
the stage, II. 133 ; VIII. 171-2; XXI,
193—their pelvis larger than in males,
II. 768-9—their organs of generation,
825 ; XVII. 689—breasts, II. 827-
mortality less than of males, III. 208
—castration of, VI. 236 — milk of,
499; XV. 74—baneful effects of in¬
discriminate intercourse with, in early
youth, VI. 596—considered in rela¬
tion to chivalry, 595, etseq.; 602,015
—effect of custom on the appreciation
of their beauty, VII. 560—their cha¬
racter in the Greek drama, VIII. 148,
151 — qualities distinguishing them
from men, XIII. 577—dress of, XIV.
509—may kill in defence of chastity,
XX. 82—character of, 166—respect
paid to, in England and France, 177
—burning of, in India, 797—custom
in Tibet of one having several hus¬
bands, XXI. 257—peculiarity in the
physical conformation of Hottentot
women, II. 226—dancing-girls, VII.
615 ; of Egypt, II 533 ; VIII. 529-
the Amazons, II. 588—size of heads
of new-boni females, 758—weight of
female infants, ib.—bearded women,
III. 474—punishments of scolds, V.
185 ; VI. 229—concubinage, VII. 197
—cucking-stool, 527—Shakspeare’s fe¬
male characters, XX. 185. See Bride,
Chastity, Female, Marriage, Midwif¬
ery, Nursing, Polygamy, Pregnancy,
Prostitution, Rape, Seduction, Sex.
Wonder, sentiment of, XVII. 465.
Wood, V. 33—structure of, III. 42, 61,
83—course of sap in, 50—growth of,
83—of ro.ots, 87—fossil, 274; XXI. 916
—strength, VI. 152; of different kinds
of, XX. 296, 757, 759,779—bridges of,
VI. 290—charcoal of different kinds
of, 325 — various senses in which the
word is used, VIII. 13— in garden¬
ing, X. 323—effect of moisture on,
XII. Ill, 617 ; of dryness, ib.—table
shewing the modulus of torsion in
woods, XIV. 403—friction of woods
on woods, 409 ; and on metals, 410-
turning of, XXI. 429—method of pre¬
paring green wood so that it will not
split in turning, 430—method of giv¬
ing an ebony black to, and of harden¬
ing, ib.—lignin, VI. 479. See Car¬
pentry, Joinery, Plantations, Timber.
Teees, Vegetable Physiology.
 (Anthony), XXI. 916.
 (Andrew), of Largo, XIX. 718.
 (Capt. John), exploratory voyage
of, XVIII. 219.
 (Robert), on the ruins of Baal-
bec, IV. 314.
Wood’s coinage in Ireland, XII. 380,411
Wood-bugs, IX. 195.
Wood-cutters of Canada, VI. 62.
Wood-cuts, printing from, XVIII. 563.
WOOD-ENGRAVING, XXI. 916.
Wood-pigeon shooting, XX. 307.
Wood ah, island, XXI. 918.
Woodbridge, in Suffolk, XXI. 918.
WOODCHESTER, XXI. 918.
Woodcock, XVI. 622.
Woodcock-shooting, XX. 315.
Woodhouselee (Lord). See Tytler(A.F.)-
Woodley (Mr), his ascent of Mont
Blanc, II. 562.
Woodpecker, bird, XVI. 594—tongue of
the, XVII. 712.
Woodstock, English town, XXI. 912.
Woodstone, specific grav ity of, XII. 36.
Woodville (Dr), on cow-pox, XXI. 534.
Woodward (John), XXI. 918.
 (Capt.), his long fast, VIII. 22.
Woody Head, XXI. 918.
Woody Island, XXI. 918.
Wool, XXL 919 ; XIV. 85, 164-Cash¬
mere, VI. 213—Greek, X. 731—Per¬
sian, XVII. 246—Scotch, II. 262—
of Tibet, XXI. 256—of merino sheep,
II. 330—bleaching of, IV. 690—act
prohibiting exportation of, V. 448
Dr Young’s test of the fineness of,
INDEX
163
WOO—WOT
VI. 640 —dyes better than cotton and
linen, VIH. 298, 301—atomic consti¬
tuents of, ib.:—structure of, ib.—felt¬
ing of, 299—fulling of, ib.—importance
of, ib.—scouring of, ib.—dyeing of,
ib.—method of dyeing it red, 312;
yellow, 321 ; blue, 326 ; black, 329 ;
brown, 332, 337; green, 333; violet,
purple, &c„ 335 ; orange, 337 ; gray,
&c., 337—imports of, into England,
772—Russian trade in, XIX. 569—
trade of N. S. Wales in, XXI. 720.
Woollen-Manufactures, XXI. 919—
of Ayrshire, IV. 259—Derbyshire,
VII. 736—Devonshire, 746—Dublin,
VIII. 247—England, 771—France, i
X. 180—Germany, 489 —Gloucester¬
shire, 586—Ireland, XII. 401—Ken¬
dal, XXI. 864—Scotland, XIX. 768
—Somersetshire, XX. 476—Tipper
ary, XXI. 315—Tyrone, 440—the
United States, 464—Wiltshire, 891
—Yorkshire, XIII. 161—table of ex¬
ports of woollen goods, VIII. 771
calendering, VI. 20—card, VI. 135.
Voollen-mule, description of Smith’s
self-acting, XX. 545.
Vooleb, a town in Northumberland,
XXI. 938.
Vooli, XX. 94.
V'oollet, his engravings, IX. 53.
Voolston (Thomas), XXI. 938—Simon
Brown’s defence of Christianity a-
gainst, V. 596.
fooLwtcH,XXI. 938; XII. 696—Royal
Military Academy at, II. 78—testing
of cannon at, VI. 87—dockyard,VIII.
81—ropery, 82.
’ootton-Basset, XXI. 939.
’’ootton-under-Edge, XXI. 939.
motz of India, VII. 566—its use in
cutlery, 565.
’obcester, XXI. 940—battle of, V.
336—Worcester and Birmingham ca¬
nal, XVI. 21.
(Marquis of). See Somerset.
orcestershire, XXI. 939—Stafford¬
shire canal, XVI. 18.
orde (Wynkyn de), printer, XVIII.
552—types of, XXI. 435.
ords, considered as the signs of ideas,
XIII. 434. See Language, Speech,
brdsworth on fancy, XVIII. 142—cha¬
racter of his poetry, 173.
obgausi, Hindu town, XXI. 941,
OBK, XXL 941.
okk-House, XXL 941; XVIII. 380.
OBKiNGTON.in Cumberland, XXL 941
—coal-mines of, VII. 537.
obksop, in Nottingham, XXI. 941.
orld, map of, X. PI. 262; on Merca¬
tor’s projection, PI. 263—chart of,
shewing magnetic curves, XIII. PI.
•-7. See Earth, Geography-.
)BM(01af), physician, XXI. 941.
 , in gunnery, XXI. 941.
of a still, XXL 942 ; VIII. 50.
>ms, XL 216; XX. 122.
-—(intestinal), XVII. 722; XXI.
191—obscurity of origin of, 992, 994,
t seq.; in. 162—diseases from,
II. 483—in the domestic ani-
mds, XII. 294 ; XXL 627, 628, 632,
, —worm-powder recommended by
Or Alston, II. 565.
'rm-like serpents, XX. 138.
’rmian bones, II. 776.
'Sms, German city, XXI. 942.
rmwood, Grew on the structure of its
°ot, III. 88.
konesh, in Russia, XXI. 942
MHir, XXL 942 ; XV. 480-public,
’ ^IX. 599, see Devotion.
rsley, V. 288.
mtead, in Norfolk, XXI. 942.
■ rstod-manufacture, XXI. 935.”
. >-t, m brewing, V. 241,255.
, KTHiNG.in Sussex, XXI. 942.
tton (Sir Henry), XXI. 942—on
err’ ni‘ 133~the first who used
«u™in',Pu"“e “ Go,‘”
‘ — (William), XXL 942—his work
WOU—WYR
on Ancient and Modern Learning, IV.
576.
Wounds, death from, XIV. 499—heal¬
ing of, XVII. 128—surgical treatment
of, XX. 833. ,
Wourali, a poison, XIV. 506.
Wow, Hindu town, XXI. 943.
Wowamia, Hindu town, XXI. 943.
Wrangel (General), XXI. 21.
Wrasse, fish, XII. 195.
Wreak river navigation, XVI. 21.
Wreath, in heraldry, XXL 943; XI.
258.
Wrede (Baron), on optics, XVI. 493.
Wren (Sir Christopher), XXI. 943—
his knowledge of the balance of
arches, III. 384, 386 — his dome-
vaulting in St Paul’s, 392—architec¬
tural works of, 428—centres em¬
ployed by, VI. 281—his method of
demonstrating the laws of impulsion
by experiment, XIV. 351. See Paul’s
(St).
 , bird, XVI. 576.
Wrestling, XXL 943 ; XL 96.
Wrexham, town in Denbighshire, XXI
943—church of, VII. 718.
Wright (Edward), X. 420, 430—on lo
garithms, XIII. 418—on navigation
XV. 747-9.
Wrington, in Somerset, XXI. 943.
Wrist, bones of the, II. 788—joints
789—muscles, 793.
Writ, in law, XXL 943.
Writers to the Signet, in Edinburgh,
VIII. 419; XIX. 760—their library,
VIII. 419 ; XIII. 302.
Writing, art of, XXI. 943—origin of,
XVII. 354—act of, 618—origin of
alphabetic, 362; II. 540—modes of
writing among different nations, 545 ;
XVII. 370, 390—Astle on the origin
and progress of, IV. 622—writing in
cipher, VI. 701 — short-hand, XX
716; II. 551—remarks on written
characters, I. 66-7. See Alphabet:
Characters.
Wrongs, private, English law of, IX. 29
Wry-neck, bird, XVI. 597.
Wudwan, Hindu town, XXL 944.
Wulfen, botanist, V. 79.
Wunsch (Professor), on the spectrum
XVI. 420.
Wurda, Hindu river, XXI. 944.
Wurmser (General), X. 81, et seq.; XV.
717, et seq.
Wurtemberg, XXI. 944—army of, III.
610—its obligations to Bilfinger, IV.
639—coins of, XV. 408,412—weights
and measures of, XXI. 856.
Wurzburg, Bavarian city, XXI. 947 ;
IV. 460.
Wutzer on nervous ganglions, II. 734.
Wyatt (John), his invention of roller-
spinning, X. 554 ; XX. 536.
(Sir Thomas), insurrection of,
VIII. 753
 (Sir T.), poetry of, XVIII. 169.
Wyatt’s patent slating, V. 682—im¬
provements in joinery, XII. 605.
Wyborg, IV. 330.
Wycherley (William), XXI. 947—dra¬
matic works of, VIII. 173.
Wycliffe (John), XXL 949; VIII.
731 ; XIII. 210, 601—his translation
of the Bible, IV. 618—specimen of
that work, IX. 40—the English lan¬
guage improved by, VI. 338.
Wycombe (Chipping or High), town in
Buckinghamshire, XXI. 952
Wye, town in Kent, XXI. 952.
 , Welsh river, XXI. 952 ; XI.
273; XV. 417—its scenery, X. 341—
navigation, XVI. 21.
, a river in Derbyshire, XXI.
XAN-YAK
X
X, letter of the alphabet, XXL 953.
Xanthic acid, VI. 431..
Xanthin, VIII. 306.
Xanthine, VI. 431.
Xanthippe, XX. 442, 443.
Xanthippus, a Carthaginian, VI. 192.
Xanthopicrin, VI. 468.
Xanthornus, bird, XVI. 582.
Xarayes, lake, XVII. 63.
Xativa, in Spain, XXI. 953.
Xauru, river, XVII. 63.
Xavier de Maistre (Count), on water¬
spouts, VIII. 622.
Xebec, XXL 953.
Xenocrates, philosopher, XXI. 953.
Xenodon, serpent, XX. 138.
Xenopeltis, serpent, XX. 138.
Xenophanes, XXI. 954—philosophy of,
VIII. 564.
Xenophon, XXI. 954—his account of
Cyrus, VII. 577—his retreat with the
10,000, XI. 473—on field-sports, 738
—not mentioned by Plato, XVIII. 18
—his dialogues, 41—his account of
Socrates’s manner of teaching, XX.
440—his admiration of that philoso¬
pher, 445—his Memorabilia of So¬
crates, 467-8.
 , Greek surgeon, XX. 822.
of Ephesus, XXI. 954.
YAL—YNC
953; VII. 735
Wymondham, in Norfolk, XXL 953.
Wynaad, in Hindustan, XXI. 953.
Wyndham (Sir William), English states¬
man, XXL 953.
Wynn (William), hisscapement, VI. 775.
Wyra Ghur, Hindu town, XXI. 953.
Wyrley and Easington Canal, XVI. 21.
Xenops, bird, XVI. 588
Xenos, insect, IX. 254.
Xeres de la Frontera, XXI. 954—battle
of, XX. 493.
Xerxes, king of Persia, XVII. 259—
army of, III. 583—his invasion of
Greece, IV. 150; XX. 525—effects of
that invasion upon Athens, IV. 114—
his treatment of the dead body of
Leonidas VI. 736—instance of his in¬
gratitude, XII. 276.
Xicoco, island, XXI. 955.
Ximena, Spanish city, XXI. 955.
Ximenes de Cisneros (Francisco), car¬
dinal, XXL 955; XX. 501,
Ximo, Japanese island, XXI. 956.
Xingu, river, V. 198.
Xiphias, fish, XII. 183.
Xiphydria, insect, IX. 218.
Xirichthys, fish, XII. 196.
Xixona, Spanish city, XXL 956.
Xorides, insects, IX. 222.
Xulla Islands, XXI. 956.
XullAbella, island, XXL 957.
Xullamangola, island, XXL 957.
Xun, Chinese city, XXI. 957.
Xyela, insect, IX. 218.
Xylobalsimum, IV. 322.
Xylocopa, insect, IX. 233.
Xylodium, in botany, V. 49.
Xylophaga, mollusca, XV. 349.
Xylophagi, insects, IX. 176, 264.
Xylophili, insects, IX. 155, 172.
Xylota, insect, IX. 273.
Xylotonue, insects, IX. 266.
Xylotrogi, insects, IX. 146.
Xynoccia, Athenian feast, XXI. 957
Xyridese, in botany, V. 135.
Xysta, insect, IX. 281.
Xystarcha, Greek officer, XXI. 957
Xystus, Greek portico, XXI. 957.
Y, letter of the alphabet, XXI. 957.
Ya, Chinese city, XXI. 957.
Yabarkulskaia, XXI. 957.
Yacht, XXI. 957.
Yack, in zoology, XIV. 167.
Yacou, bird, XVI. 605.
Yadi, Russian river, XXI. 957.
Yak of Tartary, XXI. 255.
Yakoutsk, in Asiatic Russia, XXL 957
—trade of, XIX. 588.
Yale College, VII. 263.
Yamoots, XXL 84.
Yamskoi, Russian fort, XXL 957.
Yamychefskaia, XXI. 957.
Yang, Chinese towns, XXI. 958.
F ang-Chan, Chinese town, XXI. 958.
Yang Cong, Chinese river, XXI. 958.
Yang-Ho, Chinese river, XXI. 958.
Yang-Kang, Chinese town, XXL 958.
Yang-Tcheoo, Chinese city, XXI. 958.
Yang-Tse-Kiang, river, XXI. 958.
Yanguin Chainwah, XXI. 958.
Yani, XX. 94.
Yanina, II. 379—siege of, 378.
Yantchin, Chinese city, XXI. 958.
Yao, Chinese city, XXI. 958.
Yao-Ngan, Chinese city, XXI. 958.
Yao-Tcheou, Chinese city, XXI. 958.
Yapura, river, V. 198.
Yard, standard, XXI. 945.
 of a ship, XXI. 958.
 (Navy), XXI. 958. See Dock¬
yards.
YAREjin seamanship, XXI. 958.
 , river, XXI. 958 ; XVI. 246 ;
XX. 789—its navigation, XVI. 22.
Yarkund, XXI. 958, 86.
Yarm, in Yorkshire, XXL 958 —at¬
tempted iron bridge at, V. 279.
Yarmouth, in Isle of Wight, XXI. 958.
 , seaport town in Norfolk, XXL
958 ; XVI. 245.
-, in Nova Scotia, XVI. 286.
Yarmuc, XXL 959.
Yaropolk, XIX. 530.
Yaroslaf, XIX. 532.
Yarrell (Mr), on fishes, XII. 170, 181,
185, 224—on British birds, XVI. 553.
Yarrow, river, XX. 85.
Yauly, Hindu town, XXI. 959.
Yawl, IV. 722.
Yawning, XXI. 959.
Yaynangheom, XXI. 959.
Yazoo, river, XV. 299.
Ybyera, lake, XVII. 66.
Y'eadell (Tho.), on moles, XXI. 600.
Year, astronomical and civil, VI. 4 —
lunar, 7—Hindu, 263, 664—Olympic,
653 — Roman, 654—Jewish, 657 —
Egyptian, 658; VIII. 555—Mahom-
medan, VI. 661—Chinese, 663—Drui-
dical, VIII. 206—confusion of civil
with ecclesiastical, XVIII. 391, n. See
Astronomy, Chronology.
Yeast, XXI. 959—its use in baking,
IV. 297 ; in distillation, VIII. 47—
modes of preparing, IV. 299—nature
of, V. 244.
Yelcundel, in Hindustan, XXI. 959.
Yell Island, XXI. 959, 986.
Yellow, XXI. 959—varieties of, XV.
127, 128—colouring-matters, VI. 485
—in crayon-painting, Y’ll. 453—dye¬
ing of, VIII. 319, 341.
Yellow Fever, Dr Rush on, XIX. 523.
Yellow River, XXI. 959.
Y'ellow Sea, XXI. 960 ; XVII. 510.
Yellowly (Dr), on mucous membrane,
II. 753.
Yelpoora, Hindu town, XXI. 960.
Yemen, XXI. 960 ; III. 324, et seq.
Yen, Chinese river, XXI. 960.
Yeneseisk, VIII. 699.
Yenikali, VII. 473.
Yenisei, river, XIX. 586.
Yen-Kiang, Chinese city, XXL 960.
Yen-Ngan, Chinese city, XXL 960.
Yen-Ping, Chinese city, XXL 960.
Yen-Tcheou, Chinese city, XXI. 960.
Yeoman, XXL 960 ; VII. 179—of the
Guard, XXI. 960.
Yeou, river, V. 12.
Yeovil, in Somerset, XXI. 960.
Yeowah, Burmese town, XXI. 960.
Yernagoodum, XXI. 960.
Yet holm, XXI. 960; XIX. 513.
Yew-tree, XVII. 784—specific gravity
of its wood, XII. 38.
Yezd, Persian city, XXI. 961.
Yezdegird, era of, VI. 662.
Yezdikhast, Persian town, XXI. 961.
Yguisan, island, XXL 961.
Ynca. See Inca.
164
INDEX,
YNY—YPA
Yn-Yuel, Chinese city, XXI, 961.
Yoke, XXI. 961—of land, ib.
Yolofs, XX. 93.
Yong-Ngao, island, XXI. 961.
Yong-Ning, Chinese city, XXI. 961.
Yong-Pe, Chinese city, XXI. 961.
Yong-Ping, Chinese city, XXI. 961.
Yong-Tchang, Chinese city, XXI. 961.
Yong-Tcheou, Chinese city, XXI. 961.
Yonne, in France, XXI. 961.
Yon-Nim-Kien Hotun, XXI. 961.
Yool Islands, XXI. 961.
York, English city, XXI. 965—arch¬
bishop of, III. 397—minster of, III.
421, 455, 456; X. 565—archbishopric
of, VIII. 762—lodge of freemasons at,
XIV. 284.
 , in Upper Canada, VI. 65.
 ,in Maine, XIV. 44.
 , in Pennsylvania, XVII. 224.
 Cape, XXI. 966.
 Islands, XXL 967.
—— (New). See New YorE.
«■ (Frederick, late Duke of), his
marriage, V. 461—his campaign of
1.794, 475—his expedition to Hol¬
land, 489, 493-4—his connexion with
Mary Anne Clarke, 526—vested with
the custody of the king’s person, 544
—his declaration against the Catho¬
lics, 563.
Yorkshire, XXI. 961—geology of, XV.
198—elevation of bed of the sea in,
218—woollen-manufacture of, XIII.
161; XXI. 927—wages of woollen-
manufacturers in, 937.
Yo-Tcheou, Chinese city, XXI. 967.
Yodgane, Russian river, XXI. 967.
Youghal, Irish town, XXI. 967.
Young (Arthur), on small farms, VII.
387—on small estates, 391—on the
war against cottages in England, 393
—on Irish roads, XII. 413—on irri¬
gation, 446, 453.
  (Edward), XX. 967—his dra¬
matic works, VIII. 174—his poetry,
XVIII. 173.
 (James), surgeon, XX. 829.
 (James), his galvanic battery,
XXL 668.
 (Dr Matthew), on capillary at¬
traction, XII. 39, 45, 46.
 (Dr Thomas), XXL 969—his
solution of the principle of capillary
attraction, I. 616—character of, as a
philosopher, ib.—his discoveries in
hieroglyphics, II. 541 ; VIII. 560 ;
XL 304, et seq., 316—misled by a
table in Morgan on Life Assurance,
III. 201—on aurora borealis, IV. 201
—on bathing, 445—on chromatics, VI.
632, et seq.—lectures of, VII. 638—
on the affinities of language, XIII.
70—on polarisation of light, 333;
XVIII. 243—on optics, XVI. 363,
415, 421, 426, 434, 450,451—on the
globules of the blood, XVII. 635—on
the pendulum, 203; XXI. 842—his
formula representing the law of the
relation between the temperature and
force of steam, XX. 595—on the tides,
XXI. 260, et seq.
— (Mr), on motion, XV. 573, 576
—on the formation of matter, XVII.
798, et seq.
Young Nick’s Head, XXI. 973.
Yourriba, in Africa, II. 238.
Youth, XIV. 493 ; XV. 456.
Youze, in zoology, XIV. 121.
Yowry, island, XXI. 973.
Ypanema, ironworks at, V. 208.
YPR—ZEG
Ypres, in Flanders, XXL 973—poor-
law of, XVIII. 369, n.
Ystwith, river, VI. 137.
Yttria, VI. 400—salts of, 447—specific
gravity of phosphate of, XII. 38.
Yttrium, VI. 399.
Yttrocerite, sp. gr. of, XII. 38.
Yttrotantalite, sp. gr. of, XII. 38.
Yu, Chinese rivers, XXI. 973.
Yucatan, XXL 973; XIV. 817.
Yuen, Chinese city, XXL 973.
Yuen-Kiang, Chinese city, XXL 973.
Yuen-Tcheou, Chinese city, XXI. 973.
Yuen-Yang, Chinese city, XXL 973.
Yule (Dr), on the structure and germ i
nation of wheat, III. 78.
Yunan, in China, XXL 973.
Yun-Hing, Chinese city, XXI. 973.
Yun-Lean-Ho, Chinese canal, XXI. 973.
Yunshan, XXI. 973.
Yuntai, island, XXI. 973.
Yunx, bird, XVI. 597.
Yurukhs, XXI. 420.
Yzabal, XL 19.
z
Z, letter of the alphabet, XXI. 974.
Zaara. See Zahara.
Zab, river, XXL 974.
Zabrus, insect, IX. 124.
Zabulon, tribe of, XXI. 974—plain of,
XVI. 742.
Zacatecas, Mexican state, XIV. 816.
Zacatula, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Zacchia (Paulo), on medical jurispru¬
dence, XIV. 491.
Zach (Baron), his estimate of the num¬
ber of the fixed stars, IV. 44, 45.
Zafra, Turkish town, XXI. 974.
Zagrab, or Agram, II. 250.
Zahara, XIX. 612 ; II. 222, 236.
Zainer (Ginther), printer, XVIII. 548.
Zaire, river, XXL 974 ; VII. 214, 215.
Zaleuous, Locrian legislator,XXI.974.
Zaluski library, XIII. 315.
Zama, in Cappadocia, XXI. 974—battle
of, VI. 202; XIX. 387.
Zambeccari’s balloon, II. 189.
Zamboni’s electric pile, XXL 673.
Zamfra, XI. 710.
Zamorano on navigation, XV. 747.
Zanclus, fish, XII. 179.
Zanesville, in Ohio, XVI. 330.
Zangeia, XI. 710.
Zanguebar, XXL 974.
Zannone, island, XVIII. 362.
Zanotti (Monsieur), galvanic experi¬
ments of, XXI. 681.
Zante, XII. 341.
Zantedeschi (Professor), on solar mag¬
netism, XIII. 697; XVI. 422.
Zanthoxylese, in botany, V. 104.
Zapata, Italian feast, XXL 974.
Zaragoza, Spanish city, XXI. 974; III.
373.
Zaria, II. 238 ; XI. 710.
Zauder (Monsieur), his machine for
changing motion, XIV. 448.
Zealand, Danish island, XXL 975 ;
IV. 328; VII. 725.
 , Dutch province, XXI. 975.
 (New). See New Zealand.
Zealots, Jewish sect, XXI. 983.
Zebid, Arabian city, XXI. 983.
Zebra, XIV. 154 ; II. 227.
Zebu, island, XXI. 983.
Zeghren, IX. 531.
ZEG—ZIP
Zegzeg, XI. 710.
Zeiher’s burning-mirrors, V. 735.
Zeitz, Prussian city, XXI. 983.
Zelaya, in Mexico, XIV. 814.
Zeleh, Turkish town, XXL 984.
Zelenin, island, XXI. 984.
Zelenoikolok, XXI. 984.
Zelezenskaia, XXI. 984.
Zell (Ulric), printer, XVIII. 548.
Zelle, German city, XXI. 984.
Zelus, insect, IX. 197.
Zemaniah, Hindu town, XXI. 984,
Zembla (Nova), Russian island, XXI.
984; XVIII. 217.
Zemindars, XXI. 984 ; XI. 444, 449.
Zemplin, in Hungary, XXL 984.
Zend, XXL 984; III. 691.
 language, XVII. 379, 380.
Zenderood, river, XXI. 985.
Zenghi, river, XXI. 985.
Zenith, XXL 985; III. 754.
Zenith-sector by Ramsden, XXL 358.
Zeno Eleates, Greek philosopher, XXI.
985— his dialectic, VII. 755-6.
 the Stoic, XXI. 985—character
and philosophy of, I. 303. See Stoics.
 , Roman emperor, VII. 280.
Zenobia, queen of Palmyra, XVI. 775
—her invasion of Egypt, VIII. 476 —
conquered by Aurelian, XIX. 412.
Zenodorus, XIV. 314.
Zenta, battle of, XXI. 413.
Zeolite, XV. 150—sp. gr. of, XII. 38.
Zephyrius, insect, IX. 242.
Zephyrus, pagan deity, XXI. 986.
Zerbis (Gabriel de), II. 693.
Zerbst, German city, XXI. 986.
Zerdusht, or Zoroaster. See Zoroaster.
Zermagna, river, VII. 595.
Zest of the walnut, XXI. 986.
Zetland, or Shetland Islands, XXI.
986— cattle of, II. 324—sheep of, 330
—aurora borealis in, IV. 194—duns
in, VIII. 268.
Zeugma, in grammar, XXL 988.
Zeus, fish, XII. 188.
Zeuxia, insect, IX. 283.
Zeuxis, Greek painter, XXI. 988 —paint¬
ings of, XVI. 701.
Zeuzera, insect, IX. 246.
Ziegenham, XX. 988.
Ziegler, (Jean Henri), his experiments
on the force of steam, XX. 577.
Zimisces, XIX. 530.
Zimmerman (Prof.), on the compressi¬
bility of water, II. 114 ; XII. 9—on
the diversity of the human com¬
plexion, VII. 192.
Zinc, metal, XXI. 988—in chemistry,
VI. 410—in mineralogy, XV. 142—
changes in its texture produced by
wire-drawing, &c., III. 197—sulphu-
ret of, IV. 693—its compounds with
copper, V. 185—salts of oxide of, VI.
449—crystallization of sulphuret of,
VII. 523—specific gravity of, XII.
38—magnetism of, XIII. 709—poison¬
ous quality of, XIV. 502—cohesion
of, XX. 757.
Zinc-blende, XV. 170.
Zinc-mines, British, XV. 249—conti¬
nental, 252.
Zinc-ore, XV. 161.
Zingha, III. 151.
Zinghis-Khan. See Genghis-Khan.
Zinkenite, VI. 459—sp. gr. of, XII. 38.
Zinn (J. G.), anatomist, II. 702.
Zinzendorf (N. L., Count of), founder
of the Moravians, XXI. 988.
Zion, or Sion, XXI. 988 ; XII. 546.
Ziphias, in zoology, XIV. 183.
zm—ZYM
Zircon, XV. 159—sp. gr. of, XII. 35.
Zirconia, VI. 401—salts of, 448—speci¬
fic gravity of, XII. 38.
Zirconium, VI. 400.
Zirconite, specific gravity of, XII. 38
Zirmie, XI. 710.
Ziska (John), XXL 989 ; XI. 762.
Zittau, in Saxony, XXI. 989.
Zloczow, in Austria, XXI. 989.
Znaym, in Moravia, XXI. 989.
Zoanthidse. zoophytes, XXI. 1022.
Zoarchus, fish, XII. 193.
Zodiac, in astronomy, XXI. 989.
  (Signs of the), III. 765—Du-
pin’s theory of their origin, VII. 286.
Zodiacal light. III. 784 ; XIV. 720.
Zodion, insect, IX. 278.
Zoega on obelisks, XI. 302, 304, 315.
Zoisite, XV. 154—sp. gr. of, XII. 38,
Zombar, Austrian city, XXI. 989.
Zonaras (Joannes), XXI. 989—on the
burning-glasses of Archimedes, V.728.
Zones of the earth, XXI. 989; X. 408;
XVII. 543.
Zonitis, insect, IX. 170.
Zoocarpes, III. 187.
Zoohematine, II. 713.
Zoolas of Africa, II. 233 ; XII. 659.
Zoology, III. 155—province of, XVII.
577. See Animals, Comparative Ana¬
tomy, Comparative Physiology, Natu¬
ral History, and the articles referred
to in vol. iii. p. 180.
Zoonomy, II. 685.
Zoophaga, bones of, III. 2, et sej.—teeth
of, 32, 33.
Zoophorus, in architecture, III. 471.
Zoophytes, XXL 990; II. 706; III.
156 ; XV. 739 ; XVII. 587, 721-cha-
racteristics of, III. 171.
Zoosperma, animalcules, III. 190, n.
Zophosis, insect, IX. 163.
Zorn (J. H.), on birds, XVI. 548.
Zorndorff, battle of, XVIII. 675.
Zoroaster, XXI. 1025; XIII. 82;
XVII. 259—Anquetil’s publication of
fragments ascribed to, III. 237.
Zorrino of Buenos Ayres, V. 641.
Zosimus, historian, XXI. 1025.
Zostera marina, uses of, II. 297.
Zoutman (Admiral), V. 417.
Zoxa, XVIII. 798.
Zucchi (Father), not the inventor of the
reflecting telescope, XVI. 360.
Zuela, IX. 532.
Zug, Swiss canton, XXI. 1025.
Zuinglius (Ulricus), XXI. 1026—his
share in effecting the Reformation,!
XIX. 88, et seq.
Zulichau, battle of, XVIII. 677.
Zullichau, Prussian city, XXL 1026.
Zumalacarreguy( Thomas), XX. 511,512.
Zurich, in Switzerland, XXI. 1026—
coins of, XV. 408—lake of, XXI. 46
—manufactures of, XXI. 49.
 Water-machine, XII. 103.
Zurlite, specific gravity of, XII. 38.
Zutphen, in Holland, XXI. 1027.
Zuyder-Zee, XXI. 1027.
Zweibrucken, XXI. 1027.
Zwenigorodka, XXI. 1027.
Zwickau, in Saxony, XXI. 1027.
Zwolen, in Hungary, II. 571.
Zwolle, Dutch city, XXI. 1027.
Zygsena, fish, XII. 234.
— , insect, IX. 244.
Zygienides, insects, IX. 244.
Zyghur, Hindu town, XXL 1027.
Zygophyllese, in botany, V. 104.
Zygops, insect, IX. 174.
Zymosimeter, XXI. 1027.
TYPE-FOUNDED, PRINTED, AND STEREOTYPED,
BY NEILL & CO., OLD FISHMARKET, EDINBURGH.
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS
DISSERTATION FIRST:
EXHIBITING A GENERAL VIEW
OF THE
PROGRESS OF METAPHYSICAL, ETHICAL, AND POLITICAL
PHILOSOPHY,
SINCE THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS IN EUROPE.
By DUGALD STEWART, Esa. F. R. SS. Lond. and Edin.
LATE PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY
OF EDINBURGH.
PREFACE,
CONTAINING SOME CRITICAL REMARKS ON THE DISCOURSE PREFIXED TO THE
FRENCH ENCYCLOPEDIA
WHEN I ventured to undertake the task of
contributing a Preliminary Dissertation
to the Encyclopcedia Britannica, my original in¬
tention was, after the example of D’Alembert,
to have begun with a general survey of the va¬
rious departments of human knowledge. The
outline of such a survey, sketched by the com¬
prehensive genius of Bacon, together with the
corrections and improvements suggested by his
illustrious disciple, would, I thought, have ren¬
dered it comparatively easy to adapt their intel¬
lectual map to the present advanced state of the
sciences; while the unrivalled authority which
their united Work has long maintained in the
republic of letters, would, I flattered myself,
have softened those criticisms which might he
expected to he incurred by any similar attempt
of a more modern hand. On a closer examina¬
tion, however, of their labours, I found myself
under the necessity of abandoning this design.
Doubts immediately occurred to me with respect
to the justness of their logical views, and soon
terminated in a conduction that these views are
radically and essentially erroneous. Instead,
therefore, of endeavouring to give additional
currency to speculations which I conceived to
he fundamentally unsound, I resolved to avail
myself of the present opportunity to point out
their most important defects;—defects which, I
am nevertheless very ready to acknowledge, it
is much more easy to remark than to supply.
The critical strictures which, in the course of
this discussion, I shall have occasion to offer on
my predecessors, will, at the same time, account
for my forbearing to substitute a new map of
my own, instead of that to which the names of
Bacon and D’Alembert have lent so great and
so well-merited a celebrity; and may perhaps
suggest a doubt, whether the period be yet ar¬
rived for hazarding again, with any reasonable
prospect of success, a repetition of their bold
experiment. For the length to which these
strictures are likely to extend, the only apology
I have to offer is the peculiar importance of the
questions to which they relate, and the high au¬
thority of the writers whose opinions I presume
to controvert
Before entering on his main subject, D’Alem¬
bert is at pains to explain a distinction—which he
represents as of considerable importance—be¬
tween the Genealogy of the sciences, and the
Encyclopedical arrangement of the objects of
human knowledge.1 “ In examining the for¬
mer,” he observes, “ our aim is, by remounting
1 “ II ne faut pas confondre 1’ordre Encyclopedique des
Avertissement, p. 7*
DISS. I. PART I.
connoissances humaines avec la Genealogie des Sciences.”
A
2
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to the origin and genesis of our ideas, to trace
the causes to which the sciences owe their birth;
and to mark the characteristics by which they
are distinguished from each other. In order to
ascertain the latter, it is necessary to compre¬
hend, in one general scheme, all the various de¬
partments of study; to arrange them into pro¬
per classes; and to point out their mutual rela¬
tions and dependencies.” Such a scheme is some¬
times likened by D’Alembert to a map or chart
of the intellectual world; sometimes to a Ge¬
nealogical1 or Encyclopedical Tree, indicating
the manifold and complicated affinities of those
studies, which, however apparently remote and
unconnected, are all the common offspring of
the human understanding. For executing suc¬
cessfully this chart or tree, a philosophical deli¬
neation of the natural progress of the mind may
(according to him) furnish very useful lights;
although he acknowledges that the results of the
two undertakings cannot fail to differ widely in
many instances,—the laws which regulate the
generation of our ideas often interfering with
that systematical order in the relative arrange¬
ment of scientific pursuits, which it is the pur¬
pose of the Encyclopedical Tree to exhibit.2
In treating of the first of these subjects, it can¬
not be denied that D’Alembert has displayed
much ingenuity and invention; but the depth
and solidity of his general train of thought may
be questioned. On various occasions, he has
evidently suffered himself to he misled by a spi¬
rit of false refinement; and on others, where
probably he was fully aware of his inability to
render the theoretical chain complete, he seems
to have aimed at concealing from his readers the
faulty links, by availing himself of those epi¬
grammatic points, and other artifices of style,
with which the genius of the French language
enables a skilful writer to smooth and varnish
over his most illogical transitions.
The most essential imperfections, however, of
this historical sketch, may be fairly ascribed to
a certain vagueness and indecision in the au¬
thor’s idea, with regard to the scope of his in¬
quiries. What he has in general pointed at is
to trace, from the theory of the Mind, and from
the order followed by nature in the develope-
ment of its powers, the successive steps by which
the curiosity may be conceived to have been
gradually conducted from one intellectual pur¬
suit to another; but, in the execution of this
design (which in itself is highly philosophical
and interesting), he does not appear to have
paid due attention to the essential difference
between the history of the human species, and
that of the civilised and inquisitive individual.
The former was undoubtedly that which prin¬
cipally figured in his conceptions, and to which,
I apprehend, he ought to have confined himself
exclusively; whereas, in fact, he has so com¬
pletely blended the two subjects together, that
it is often impossible to say which of them was
uppermost in his thoughts. The consequence
is, that, instead of throwing upon either those
strong and steady lights, which might have been
expected from his powers, he has involved both
in additional obscurity. This indistinctness is
more peculiarly remarkable in the beginning of
his Discourse, where he represents men in the
earliest infancy of science, before they had time
to take any precautions for securing the means
of their subsistence, or of their safety,—as phi¬
losophising on their sensations, on the exist¬
ence of their own bodies, and on that of the
material world. His Discourse, accordingly*,
sets out with a series of Meditations, precisely
analogous to those which form the introduction
1 It is to be regretted, that the epithet Genealogical should have been employed on this occasion, where the author’s wish
was to contradistinguish the idea denoted by it, from that historical view of the sciences to which the word Genealogy had
been previously applied.
* The true reason of this might perhaps have been assigned in simpler terms by remarking, that the order of invention
is, in most cases, the reverse of that fitted for didactic communication. This observation applies not only to the analytical
and synthetical processes of the individual, but to the progressive improvements of the species, when compared with the
arrangements prescribed by logical method, for conveying a knowledge of them to students. In an enlightened age, the
sciences are justly considered as the basis of the arts ; and, in a course of liberal education, the former are always taught
prior to the latter. But, in the order of invention and discovery, the arts preceded the sciences. Men measured land
before they studied speculative geometry ; and governments were established before politics were studied as a science. A
remark somewhat similar is made by Celsus, concerning the history of medicine : “Non medicinam rationi esse posterio-
rem, sed post medicinam inventam, rationem esse qusesitam.”
PREFACE TO THE FIRST DISSERTATION.
3
to the philosophy of Descartes; meditations
which, in the order of time, have been uniform¬
ly posterior to the study of external nature;
and which, even in such an age as the present,
are confined to a comparatively small number
of recluse metaphysicians.
Of this sort of conjectural or theoretical his¬
tory, the most unexceptionable specimens which
have yet appeared, are indisputably the frag¬
ments in Mr Sihith’s posthumous work on the
History of Astronomy, and on that of the An¬
cient Systems of Physics and Metaphysics.
That, in the latter of these, he may have occa¬
sionally accommodated his details to his own
peculiar opinions concerning the object of Phi¬
losophy, may perhaps, with some truth, be al¬
leged ; but he must at least be allowed the me¬
rit of completely avoiding the error by which
D’Alembert was misled; and, even in those in¬
stances where he himself seems to wander a
little from the right path, of furnishing his suc¬
cessors with a thread, leading by easy and al¬
most insensible steps, from the first gross per¬
ceptions of sense, to the most abstract refine¬
ments of the Grecian schools. Nor is this the
only praise to which these fragments are en¬
titled. By seizing on the different points of
view from which the same object was contem¬
plated by different sects, they often bestow a
certain degree of unity and of interest on what
before seemed calculated merely to bewilder
and to confound; and render the apparent aber¬
rations and caprices of the understanding, sub¬
servient to the study of its operations and laws.
To the foregoing strictures on D’Alembert’s
view of the origin of the sciences, it may be
added, that this introductory part of his Dis¬
course does not seem to have any immediate
connection with the sequel. We are led, in¬
deed, to expect, that it is to prepare the way
for the study of the Encyclopedical Tree after¬
wards to be exhibited; but in this expectation
we are completely disappointed,—no reference
to it whatever being made by the author in the
farther prosecution of his subject. It forms,
accordingly, a portion of his Discourse altoge¬
ther foreign to the general design; while, from
the metaphysical obscurity which pervades it,
the generality of readers are likely to receive an
impression, either unfavourable to the perspi¬
cuity of the writer, or to their own powers of
comprehension and of reasoning. It wrere to be
wished, therefore, that, instead of occupying the
first pages of the Encyclopedic^ it had been re¬
served for a separate article in the body of that
work. There it might have been read by the
logical student, with no small interest and ad¬
vantage ; for, with all its imperfections, it bears
numerous and precious marks of its author’s
hand.
In delineating his Encyclopedical Tree, D’A¬
lembert has, in my opinion, been still more un¬
successful than in the speculations which have
been hitherto under our review. His venera¬
tion for Bacon seems, on this occasion, to have
prevented him from giving due scope to his own
powerful and fertile genius, and has engaged
him in the fruitless task of attempting, by means
of arbitrary definitions, to draw a veil over in¬
curable defects and blemishes. In this part of
Bacon’s logic, it must, at the same time, be
owned, that there is something peculiarly capti¬
vating to the fancy; and, accordingly, it has
united in its favour the suffrages of almost all
the succeeding authors who have treated of the
same subject. It will be necessary for me,
therefore, to explain fully the grounds of that
censure, which, in opposition to so many illus¬
trious names, I have presumed to bestow on it.
Of the leading ideas to which I more particu¬
larly object, the following statement is given by
D’Alembert. I quote it in preference to the
corresponding passage in Bacon, as it contains
various explanatory clauses and glosses, for
which we are indebted to the ingenuity of the
commentator.
“ The objects about wdiich our minds are oc¬
cupied, are either spiritual or material, and the
media employed for this purpose are our ideas,
either directly received, or derived from reflec¬
tion. The system of our direct knowledge con¬
sists entirely in the passive and mechanical ac¬
cumulation of the particulars it comprehends;
an accumulation which belongs exclusively to
the province of Memory. Reflection is of two
kinds, according as it is employed in reasoning
on the objects of our direct ideas, or in study¬
ing them as models for imitation.
4
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
“ Thus, Memory, Reason, strictly so called,
and Imagination, are the three modes in which
the mind operates on the subjects of its thoughts.
By Imagination, however, is here to he under¬
stood, not the faculty of conceiving or repre¬
senting to ourselves what we have formerly pei-
ceived, a faculty which differs in nothing from
the memory of these perceptions, and which, if it
were not relieved by the invention of signs,
would be in a state of continual exercise. The
power which we denote by this name has a
nobler province allotted to it, that of render¬
ing imitation subservient to the creations of
genius.
44 These three faculties suggest a correspond¬
ing division of human knowledge into three
branches, 1. History, which derives its materials
from Memory; 2. Philosophy, which is the pro¬
duct of Reason; and 3. Poetry (comprehending
under this title all the Fine Arts), which is the
offspring of Imagination.1 If we place Reason
before Imagination, it is because this order ap¬
pears to us conformable to the natural progress
of our intellectual operations.a The Imagina¬
tion is a creative faculty; and the mind, before
it attempts to create, begins by reasoning upon
what it sees and knows. Nor is this all. In
the faculty of Imagination, both Reason and
Memory are, to a certain extent, combined,—
the mind never imagining or creating objects
but such as are analogous to those whereof it
has had previous experience. Where this ana¬
logy is wanting, the combinations are extrava¬
gant and displeasing; and consequently, in that
agreeable imitation of nature, at which the fine
arts aim in common, invention is necessarily
subjected to the control of rules which it is the
business of the philosopher to investigate.
44 In farther justification of this arrangement,
it may be remarked, that reason, in the course
of its successive operations on the subjects of
thought, by creating abstract and general ideas,
remote from the perceptions of sense, leads to
the exercise of Imagination as the last step of
the process. Thus metaphysics and geometry
are, of all the sciences belonging to Reason,
those in which Imagination has the greatest
share. I ask pardon for this observation from
those men of taste, who, little aware of the near
affinity of geometry to their own pursuits, and
still less suspecting that the only intermediate
step between them is formed by metaphysics,
are disposed to employ their wit in depreciating
its value. The truth is, that, to the geometer
who invents, Imagination is not less essential
than to the poet who creates. They operate,
indeed, differently on their object, the former
abstracting and analyzing, where the latter com¬
bines and adorns;—two processes of the mind,
it must at the same time be confessed, which
seem from experience to be so little congenial,
that it may be doubted if the talents of a great
geometer and of a great poet will ever be united
in the same person. But whether these talents
be or be not mutually exclusive, certain it is,
that they who possess the one, have no right to
despise those who cultivate the other. Of all
the great men of antiquity, Archimedes is per¬
haps he who is the best entitled to be placed by
the side of Homer.”
D’Alembert afterwards proceeds to observe,
that of these three general branches of the En¬
cyclopedical Tree, a natural and convenient sub¬
division is afforded by the metaphysical distri¬
bution of things into Material and Spiritual.
44 With these two classes of existences,” he ob¬
serves farther, 44 history and philosophy are
equally conversant; but as for Imagination,
her imitations are entirely confined to the mate¬
rial world ;—a circumstance,” he adds, 44 which
1 The latitude given by D’Alembert to the meaning of the word Poetry is a real and very important improvement on
Bacon, who restricts it to Fictitious History or Fables. {De Aug. Sclent. Lib. ii. cap. i.) D’Alembert, on the other hand,
employs it in its natural signification, as synonymous with invention or creation. 44 La Peinture, la Sculpture, 1’Architec¬
ture, la Poesie, la Musique, et leurs diffdrentes divisions, composent la troisieme distribution generale qui nait de Plmagi-
nation, et dont les parties sont comprises sous le nom de Beaux-Arts. On peut les rapporter tous h la Poesie, en prenant
ce mot dans sa signification naturelle, qui n’est autre chose qu’invention ou creation.”
2 In placing Reason before Imagination, D’Alembert departs from the order in which these faculties are arranged by
Bacon. “ Si nous n’avons pas place", comme lui, la Raison apres ITmagination, c’est que nous avons suivi dans le systeme
Encyclopedique, 1’ordre metaphysique des operations de 1’esprit, plutot que 1’ordre historique de ses progres depuis la re¬
naissance des lettres—(Disc. Prelim.) How far the motive here assigned for the change is valid, the reader will be enabled
to judge from the sequel of the above quotation.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST DISSERTATION.
5
conspires with the other arguments above stated,
in justifying Bacon for assigning to her the last
place in his enumeration of our intellectual fa¬
culties.” 1 Upon this subdivision he enlarges at
some length, and with considerable ingenuity;
but on the present occasion it would be quite
superfluous to follow him any farther, as more
than enough has been already quoted to enable
my readers to judge, whether the objections
which I am now to state to the foregoing ex¬
tracts be as sound and decisive as I apprehend
them to he.
Of these objections a very obvious one is sug¬
gested by a consideration, of which D’Alembert
himself has taken notice,—that the three facul¬
ties to which he refers the whole operations of
the understanding are perpetually blended to¬
gether in their actual exercise, insomuch that
there is scarcely a branch of human knowledge
which does not, in a greater or less degree,
furnish employment to them all. It may be
said, indeed, that some pursuits exercise and in¬
vigorate particular faculties more than others;
that the study of History, for example, al¬
though it may occasionally require the aid both
of Reason and of Imagination, yet chiefly fur¬
nishes occupation to the Memory; and that this
is sufficient to j ustify the logical division of our
mental powers as the ground-work of a corre¬
sponding Encyclopedical classification.2 This,
however, will be found more specious than solid.
In what respects is the faculty of Memory more
essentially necessary to the student of history
than to the philosopher or to the poet; and, on
the other hand, of what value, in the circle of the
sciences, would be a collection of historical de¬
tails, accumulated without discrimination, with¬
out a scrupulous examination of evidence, or
without any attempt to compare and to genera¬
lize ? For the cultivation of that species of his¬
tory, in particular, which alone deserves a place
in the Encyclopedical Tree, it may be justly af¬
firmed, that the rarest and most comprehensive
combination of all our mental gifts is indispen¬
sably requisite.
Another, and a still more formidable objec¬
tion to Bacon’s classification, may be derived
from the very imperfect and partial analysis of
the mind which it assumes as its basis. Why
were the powers of Abstraction and Generaliza¬
tion passed over in silence ?—powers which, ac¬
cording as they are cultivated or neglected, con¬
stitute the most essential of all distinctions be¬
tween the intellectual characters of individuals.
A corresponding distinction, too, not less im¬
portant, may be remarked among the objects of
human study, according as our aim is to treasure
up particular facts, or to establish general con¬
clusions. Does not this distinction mark out,
with greater precision, the limits which separate
philosophy from mere historical narrative, than
that which turns upon the different provinces of
Reason and of Memory ?
I shall only add one other criticism on this
celebrated enumeration, and that is, its want of
distinctness, in confounding together the Sciences
and the Arts under the same general titles.
Hence a variety of those capricious arrange¬
ments, which must immediately strike every
reader who follows Bacon through his details;—
the reference, for instance, of the mechanical
arts to the department of History; and conse¬
quently, according to his own analysis of the
Mind, the ultimate reference of these arts to the
faculty of Memory; while at the same time, in
his tripartite division of the whole field of hu-
‘ In this exclusive limitation of the province of Imagination to things Material and Sensible, i em er as o _ owe.
the definition given by Descartes in his second Meditation : “ Imaginari nihil aliud est quam rei corporeas Jiguram sen tmagi-
nem contemplari—a power of the mind, which (as I have elsewhere observed) appears to ° ® l1108 precise y ex¬
pressed in our language by the word Conception. The province assigned to Imagination by D em er is more ex ensive
than this, for he ascribes to her also a creative and combining power ; but still his definition agrees wi i a o . ,
inasmuch as it excludes entirely from her dominion both the intellectual and the moral wor s..
2 I allude here to the following apology for Bacon, suggested by a very learned and judicious writer:— On a fait
cependant a Bacon quelques reproches assez fondes. On a observe que sa classification des sciences repose s
distinction qui n’est pas rigoureuse, puisque la memoire, la raison, et l’imagination concourent ne'cessairement dans
chaque art, comme dans chaque science. Mais on peut repondre, que 1’un ou 1 autre de ces trois acu s, quoique se o
par les deux autres, peut cependant jouer le role principal. En prenant la distinction de Bacon dans ce sens, sa class nc -
tion reste exacte, et devient tres utile.”-—(Degehando, Hist. Comp. Tome I. p. 21)8.)
6
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
man knowledge, the art of Poetry has one en¬
tire province allotted to itself.
These objections apply in common to Bacon
and to D’Alembert. That which follows has a
particular reference to a passage already cited
from the latter, where, by some false refinements
concerning the nature and functions of Imagina¬
tion, he has rendered the classification of his pre¬
decessor incomparably more indistinct and illo¬
gical than it seemed to he before.
That all the creations or new combinations of
Imagination, imply the previous process of de¬
composition or analysis, is abundantly manifest;
and, therefore, without departing from the com¬
mon and popular use of language, it may un¬
doubtedly be said, that the faculty of abstraction
is not less essential to the Poet, than to the Geo¬
meter and the Metaphysician.1 But this is not
the doctrine of D’Alembert. On the contrary,
he afiirms, that Metaphysics and Geometry are,
of all the sciences connected with reason, those
in which Imagination has the greatest share ;—
an assertion which, it will not be disputed, has at
first sight somewhat of the air of a paradox ; and
which, on closer examination, will, I apprehend,
be found altogether inconsistent with fact. If
indeed D’Alembert had, in this instance, used,
as some writers have done, the word Imagina¬
tion as synonymous with Invention, I should not
have thought it worth while (at least so far as the
geometer is concerned) to dispute his proposi¬
tion. But that this was not the meaning annex¬
ed to it by the author, appears from a subsequent
clause, where he tells us, that the most refined
operations of reason, consisting in the creation
of generals which do not fall under the cogniz¬
ance of our senses, naturally led to the exercise of
Imagination. His doctrine, therefore, goes to the
identification of Imagination with Abstraction;
two faculties so very different in the direction
which they give to our thoughts, that, according
to his own acknowledgment, the man who is
habitually occupied in exerting the one, seldom
fails to impair both his capacity and his relish
for the exercise of the other.
This identification of two faculties, so strong¬
ly contrasted in their characteristical features,
was least of all to be expected from a logician,
who had previously limited the province of Ima¬
gination to the imitation of material objects ; a
limitation, it may be remarked in passing, which
is neither sanctioned by common use, nor by
just views of the philosophy of the mind. Upon
what ground can it be alleged, that Milton’s
portrait of Satan’s intellectual and moral cha¬
racter was not the offspring of the same creative
faculty which gave birth to his Garden of Eden ?
After such a definition, however, it is difficult
to conceive, how so very acute a writer should
have referred to Imagination the abstractions
of the geometer and of the metaphysician; and
still more, that he should have attempted to
justify this reference, by observing, that these
abstractions do not fall under the cognisance of
the senses. My own opinion is, that, in the
composition of the whole passage, he had a
view to the unexpected parallel between Homer
and Archimedes, with which he meant, at the
close, to surprise his readers.
If the foregoing strictures be well-founded,
it seems to follow, not only that the attempt of
Bacon and of D’Alembert to classify the sciences
and arts according to a logical division of our
faculties, is altogether unsatisfactory; but that
every future attempt of the same kind may be
expected to be liable to similar objections. In
studying, indeed, the Theory of the Mind, it is
necessary to push our analysis as far as the
nature of the subject admits of; and, wherever
the thing is possible, to examine its constituent
principles separately and apart from each other:
but this consideration itself, when combined
with what was before stated on the endless
variety of forms in which they may be blended
\ This assertion must, however, be understood with some qualifications; for, although the Poet, as well as the Geometer
and the Metaphysician, he perpetually called upon to decompose, by means of abstraction, the complicated objects of per¬
ception, it must not be concluded that the abstractions of all the three are exactly of the same kind. Those of the Poet
amount to nothing more than to a separation into parts of the realities presented to his senses; which separation is only a
prehminary step to a subsequent recomposition into new and ideal forms of the things abstracted ; whereas the abstractions
ot the Metaphysician and of the Geometer form the very oty'ects of their respective sciences.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST DISSERTATION.
7
together in our various intellectual pursuits, is vantage. At the period when Bacon wrote, it
sufficient to show how ill adapted such an ana- was of much more consequence to exhibit to the
lysis must for ever remain to serve as the basis learned a comprehensive sketch, than an ac-
of an Encyclopedical distribution.1 curate survey of the intellectual world;—such
The circumstance to which this part of Ba- a sketch as, by pointing out to those whose
con’s philosophy is chiefly indebted for its po- views had bee^ hitherto confined within the
pularity, is the specious simplicity and compre- limits of particular regions, the relative positions
hensiveness of the distribution itself;—not the and bearings of their respective districts as
soundness of the logical views by which it was parts of one great whole, might invite them all,
suggested. That all our intellectual pursuits for the common benefit, to a reciprocal exchange
may be referred to one or other of these three of their local riches. The societies or acade-
heads, History, Philosophy, and Poetry, may mies which, soon after, sprung up in different
undoubtedly be said with considerable plausi- countries of Europe, for the avowed purpose of
bilitythe word History being understood to contributing to the general mass of information,
comprehend all our knowledge of particular by the collection of insulated facts, conjectures,
facts and particular events; the word Philoso- and queries, afford sufficient proof, that the anti-
Pty general conclusions or laws inferred cipations of Bacon were not, in this instance,
from these particulars by induction; and the altogether chimerical.
word Poetry, all the arts addressed to the ima- In examining the details of Bacon’s survey, it
gination. Not that the enumeration, even with is impossible not to be struck (more especially
the help of this comment, can be considered as when we reflect on the state of learning two-
complete ; for, to pass over entirely the other hundred years ago) with the minuteness of his
objections already stated, under which of these information, as well as with the extent of his
three heads shall we arrange the various branches views ; or to forbear admiring his sagacity in
of pure mathematics ? pointing out, to future adventurers, the unknown
Are we therefore to conclude, that the magni- tracks still left to be explored by human cu-
ficent design, conceived by Bacon, of enumerat- riosity. If his classifications be sometimes arti-
ing, defining, and classifying the multifarious ficial and arbitrary, they have at least the merit
objects of human knowledge;—a design, on the of including, under one head or another, every
successful accomplishment of which he himself particular of importance ; and of exhibiting these
believed that the advancement of the sciences particulars with a degree of method and of ap-
essentially depended;—Are we to conclude, parent connection, which, if it does not always
that this design was nothing more than the satisfy the judgment, never fails to interest the
abortive offspring of a warm imagination, un- fancy, and to lay hold of the memory. Nor
susceptible of any useful application to enlight- must it be forgotten, to the glory of his genius,
en the mind, or to accelerate its progress ? that what he failed to accomplish remains to
My own idea is widely different. The design this day a desideratum in science;—that the in-
was, in every respect, worthy of the sublime tellectual chart delineated by him is, with all its
genius by which it was formed. Nor does it imperfections, the only one of which modern
follow, because the execution was imperfeetj philosophy has yet to boast;—and that the
that the attempt has been attended with no ad- united talents of D’Alembert and of Diderot,
it ' Jus''lce„t:o the authors of the Encyclopedical Tree prefixed to the French Dictionary, it ought to be observed, that
18 sPoken °t by D’Alembert, in his Preliminary Discourse, with the utmost modesty and diffidence ; and that he has ex-
Bkebf i n0t-°F V owt? conviction, but that of his colleague, o f the impossibility of executing such a task in a manner
tj to satisfy the public. “ Nous sommes trop convaincus de I’arbitraire qui regnera toujours dans une pareille division,
pur croire que notre systeme soit I’unique ou le meilleur ; il nous suffira que notre travail ne soil pas entierement de'sap-
prouve par les bons esprits.” And, some pages afterwards, “ Si le public eclaird donne son approbation h ces changemens,
—■ recompense de notre docilitd; et s’il ne les approuve pas, nous n’en serons que plus convaincus de 1’impossi-
ue former un Arbre Encyclopedique qui soit au gre de tout le monde.”
8
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
aided by all tbe lights of the eighteenth century,
have been able to add but little to what Bacon
performed.
After the foregoing observations, it will not
be expected that an attempt is to be made, in
the following Essay, to solve a problem which
has so recently baffled the powers of these
eminent writers, and which will probably long
continue to exercise the ingenuity of our suc¬
cessors. How much remains to be previously
done for the improvement of that part of Logic,
whose province it is to fix the limits by which
contiguous departments of study are defined
and separated! And how many unsuspected
affinities may be reasonably presumed to exist
among sciences, which, to our circumscribed
views, appear at present the most alien from
each other ! The abstract geometry of Apol¬
lonius and Archimedes was found, after an in¬
terval of two thousand years, to furnish a torch
to the physical inquiries of Newton; while, in
the further progress of knowledge, the Etymo-
l°gy of Languages has been happily employed
to fill up the chasms of Ancient History; and
the conclusions of Comparative Anatomy, to il¬
lustrate the Theory of the Earth. For my own
part, even if the task were executed with the
most complete success, I should be strongly in¬
clined to think, that its appropriate place in an
Encyclopaedia would be as a branch of the article
on Logic;—certainly not as an exordium to the
Preliminary Discourse; the enlarged and re¬
fined views which it necessarily presupposes be-
jxig peculiarly unsuitable to that part of the work
which may be expected, in the first instance, to
attract the curiosity of every reader.
Before concluding this preface, I shall sub¬
join a few slight strictures on a very concise and
comprehensive division of the objects of Human
Knowledge, proposed by Mr Locke, as the ba¬
sis of a new classification of the sciences. Al¬
though I do not know that any attempt has ever
been made to follow out in detail the general
idea, yet the repeated approbation which has
been lately bestowed on a division essentially
the same, by several writers of the highest rank,
renders it in some measure necessary, on the
present occasion, to consider how far it is found¬
ed on just principles; more especially as it is
completely at variance not only with the lan¬
guage and arrangement adopted in these preli¬
minary essays, but with the whole of that plan on
which the original projectors, as well as the con-
tinuators, of the Encyclop(xdici Eritcinnica^ ap¬
pear to have proceeded. These strictures will,
at the same time, afford an additional proof of
the difficulty, or rather of the impossibility, in
the actual state of logical science, of solving
this great problem, in a manner calculated to
unite the general suffrages of philosophers.
“ All that can fall,” says Mr Locke, “ with¬
in the compass of Human Understanding being
either, first, The nature of things as they are in
themselves, their relations, and their manner of
operation; or, secondly, That which man him¬
self ought to do as a rational and voluntary
agent, for the attainment of any end, especially
happiness; or, thirdly, The ways and means
whereby the knowledge of both the one and the
other of these is attained and communicated; I
think science may be divided properly into these
three sorts:
“ 1. or Natural Philosophy. The end
of this is bare speculative truth ; and whatsoever
can afford the mind of man any such, falls under
this branch, whether it be God himself, angels,
spirits, bodies, or any of their affections, as num¬
ber and figure, &c.
“ 2. ngaxmjj, The skill of right applying our
own powers and actions for the attainment of
things good and useful. The most considerable
under this head is Ethics, which is the seeking
out those rules and measures of human actions
which lead to happiness, and the means to prac¬
tise them. The end of this is not bare specula¬
tion, but right, and a conduct suitable to it.1
“ 3. ’ZriiMiurixri, or the doctrine of signs, the
most usual whereof being words, it is aptly
enough termed also Aoy<x»j, Logic. The business
of this is to consider the nature of signs the
1 From this definition it appears, that as Locke included under the title of Physics, not only Notural
perly so called, but Natural Theology, and the Philosophy of the Human Mind, so he meant to refer to the head ox Pr ,
not only Ethics, but all the various Arts of life, both mechanical and liberal.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST DISSERTATION.
9
mind makes use of for the understanding of
things, or conveying its knowledge to others.
« This seems to me,” continues Mr Locke,
«the first and most general, as well as natural, di¬
vision of the objects of our understanding; for a
man can employ his thoughts about nothing hut
either the contemplation of things themselves,
for the discovery of truth ; or about the things
in his own power, which are his own actions,
for the attainment of his own ends; or the
signs the mind makes use of, both in one and
the other, and the right ordering of them for
its clearer information. All which three, viz.
things as they are in themselves knowahle;
actions as they depend on us, in order to hap¬
piness ; and the right use of signs, in order to
knowledge; being toto codo different, they seem¬
ed to me to he the three great provinces of the
intellectual world, wholly separate and distinct
one from another.”1 '
From' the manner in which Mr Locke ex¬
presses himself in the above quotation, he ap¬
pears evidently to have considered the division
proposed in it as an original idea of his own;
and yet the truth is, that it coincides exactly
with what was generally adopted by the philo¬
sophers of ancient Greece. <c The ancient
Greek Philosophy,” says Mr Smith, “ was divid¬
ed into three great branches, Physics, or Natural
Philosophy; Ethics, or Moral Philosophy; and
Logic. This general division,” he adds, “ seems
perfectly agreeable to the nature of things.” Mr
Smith afterwards observes, in strict conformity
to Locke’s definitions (of which, however, he
seems to have had no recollection when he
wrote this passage), “ That, as the human
mind and the Deity, in whatever their essence
may he supposed to consist, are parts of the
great system of the universe, and parts, too,
productive of the most important effects, what¬
ever was taught in the ancient schools of Greece,
concerning their nature, made a part of the sys¬
tem of physics.” 2
Dr Campbell, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric,
has borrowed from the Grecian schools the
same very extensive use of the words physics
and physiology, which he employs as synonymous
terms; comprehending under this title “ not
merely Natural History, Astronomy, Geography,
Mechanics, Optics, Hydrostatics, Meteorology,
Medicine, Chemistry, hut also Natural Theology
and Psychology, which,” he observes, “ have
been, in his opinion, most unnaturally disjoined
from Physiology by philosophers.” “ Spirit,” he
adds, “ which here comprises only the Supreme
Being and the human soul, is surely as much in¬
cluded under the notion of natural object as body
is; and is knowahle to the philosopher purely in
the same way, by observation and experience.”5
A similar train of thinking led the late cele¬
brated M. Turgot to comprehend under the
name of Physics, not only Natural Philosophy
(as that phrase is understood by the Newtonians),
hut Metaphysics, Logic, and even History.4
Notwithstanding all this weight of authority,
it is difficult to reconcile one’s self to an arrange¬
ment which, while it classes with Astronomy,
with Mechanics, with Optics, and with Hy¬
drostatics, the strikingly contrasted studies of
Natural Theology and of the Philosophy of the
Human Mind, disunites from the two last the
far more congenial sciences of Ethics and of
Logic. The human mind, it is true, as well as
the material world which surrounds it, forms
a part of the great system of the Universe ; hut
is it possible to conceive two parts of the same
whole more completely dissimilar, or rather
more diametrically opposite, in all their charac-
teristical attributes ? Is not the one the appro¬
priate field and province of observation,—a power
1 See the concluding chapter of the Essay on Human Understanding, entitled, “ Of the Division of the Sciences.
5 Wealth of Nations, Book v. chap. i.
3 Philosophy of Rhetoric, Book i. chap. v. Part iii. § 1. . .
4 “ Sous le nom de sciences physiques je comprends la logique, qui est la connoissance des operations de notre esput et
delagdn^ration de nos idees; la metaphysique, qui s’occupe de la nature et de I’origine des etres ; et enfin la physique, pro-
prement dite, qui observe Paction mutuelle des corps les uns sur les autres, et les causes et 1 enchainement des phenomenes
sensibles. On pourroit y ajouter Vhistoire."—(CEuvres de Turgot, Tome II. pp- 284, 285.) _ .
In the year 1795, a quarto volume was published at Bath, entitled Intellectual Physics. It consists entirely of speculations,
concerning the human mind, and is by no means destitute of merit. The publication was anonymous ; but I have reason
to believe that the author was the late well-known Governor Ppwnall. ... •
DISS. I. PART I. . ' B
10
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
habitually awake to all the perceptions and im¬
pressions of the bodily organs ? And does not
the other fall exclusively under the cognisance
of reflection ;—an operation which inverts all the
ordinary habits of the understanding, abstract¬
ing the thoughts from every sensible object,
and even striving to abstract them from every
sensible image ? What abuse of language can
be greater, than to apply a common name to
departments of knowledge which invite the
curiosity in directions precisely contrary, and
which tend to form intellectual talents, which,
if not altogether incompatible, are certainly not
often found united in the same individual?
The word Physics, in particular, which, in our
language, long and constant use has restricted
to the phenomena of Matter, cannot fail to strike
every ear as anomalously, and therefore illogical-
ly, applied, when extended to those of Thought
and of Consciousness.
Nor let it be imagined that these observations
assume any particular theory about the nature
or essence of Mind. Whether we adopt, on this
point, the language of the Materialists, or that
of their opponents, it is a proposition equally
certain and equally indisputable, that the phe¬
nomena of Mind and those of Matter, as far as
they come under the cognisance of our faculties,
appear to be more completely heterogeneous
than any other classes of facts within the circle
of our knowledge ; and that the sources of our
information concerning them are in every re¬
spect so radically different, that nothing is more
carefully to be avoided, in the study of either,
than an attempt to assimilate them, by means
of analogical or metaphorical terms, applied to
both in common. In those inquiries, above all,
where we have occasion to consider Matter and
Mind as conspiring to produce the same joint
effects (in the constitution, for example, of our
own compounded frame), it becomes more pe¬
culiarly necessary to keep constantly in view
the distinct province of each, and to remember,
that the business of philosophy is not to resolve
the phenomena of the one into those of the
other, but merely to ascertain the general laws
which regulate their mutual connection. Mat¬
ter and Mind, therefore, it should seem, are the
two most general heads which ought to form
the ground-work of an Encyclopedical classifi¬
cation of the sciences and arts. No branch of
human knowledge, no work of human skill, can
be mentioned, which does not obviously fall un¬
der the former head or the latter.
Agreeably to this twofold classification of the
sciences and arts, it is proposed, in the follow¬
ing introductory Essays, to exhibit a rapid
sketch of the progress made since the revival of
letters: First, in those branches of knowledge
which relate to Mind; and, secondly, in those
which relate to Matter. D’Alembert, in his
Preliminary Discourse, has boldly attempted to
embrace both subjects in one magnificent de¬
sign ; and never, certainly, was there a single
mind more equal to such an undertaking. The
historical outline which he has there traced
forms by far the most valuable portion of that
performance, and will for ever remain a proud
monument to the depth, to the comprehensive¬
ness, and to the singular versatility of his genius.
In the present state of science, however, it has
been apprehended, that, by dividing so great a
work among different hands, something might
perhaps be gained, if not in point of reputation
to the authors, at least in point of instruction
to their readers. This division of labour was,
indeed, in some measure, rendered necessary
(independently of all other considerations), by
the important accessions which mathematics
and physics have received since D’Alembert’s
time ;—by the innumerable improvements which
the spirit of mercantile speculation, and the
rivalship of commercial nations, have introduced
into the mechanical arts;—and, above all, by
the rapid succession of chemical discoveries,
which commences with the researches of Black
and of Lavoisier. The part of this task which
has fallen to my share is certainly, upon the
whole, the least splendid in the results which it
has to record; but I am not without hopes, that
this disadvantage may be partly compensated
by its closer connection with (what ought to
be the ultimate end of all our pursuits) the in¬
tellectual and moral improvement of the spe¬
cies.
I am, at the same time, well aware that, in
proportion as this last consideration increases
the importance, it adds to the difficulty of my
PREFACE TO THE FIRST DISSERTATION.
11
undertaking. It is chiefly in judging of ques¬
tions “ coming home to their business and bo¬
soms,” that casual associations lead mankind
astray; and of such associations how incalcu¬
lable is the number arising from false systems of
religion, oppressive forms of government, and
absurd plans of education! The consequence
is, that while the physical and mathematical dis¬
coveries of former ages present themselves to
the hand of the historian, like masses of pure
and native gold, the truths which we are here
in quest of may be compared to iron, which, al¬
though at once the most necessary and the most
widely diffused of all the metals, commonly re¬
quires a discriminating eye to detect its exist¬
ence, and a tedious, as well as nice process, to
extract it from the ore.
To the same circumstance it is owing, that
improvements in Moral and in Political Science
do not strike the imagination with nearly so
great force as the discoveries of the Mathemati¬
cian or of the Chemist. When an inveterate
prejudice is destroyed by extirpating the casual
associations on which it was grafted, how power¬
ful is the new impulse given to the intellectual
faculties of man ! Yet how slow and silent the
process by which the effect is accomplished!
Were it not, indeed, for a certain class of learned
authors, who, from time to time, heave the log
into the deep, we should hardly believe that the
reason of the species is progressive. In this re¬
spect, the religious and academical establish¬
ments in some parts of Europe are not without
their use to the Historian of the Human Mind.
Immoveahly moored to the same station by the
strength of their cables, and the weight of their
anchors, they enable him to measure the rapi¬
dity of the current by which the rest of the
world are borne along.
This, too, is remarkable in the history of our
prejudices; that, as soon as the film falls from
the intellectual eye, we are apt to lose all recol¬
lection of our former blindness. Like the fan¬
tastic and giant shapes which, in a thick fog, the
imagination lends to a block of stone, or to the
stump of a tree, they produce, while the illusion
lasts, the same effect with truths and realities;
but the moment the eye has caught the exact
form and dimensions of its object, the spell is
broken for ever; nor can any effort of thought
again conjure up the spectres which have va¬
nished.
As to the subdivisions of which the sciences
of Matter and of Mind are susceptible, I have
already said, that this is not the proper place for
entering into any discussion concerning them.
The passages above quoted from D’Alembert,
from Locke, and from Smith, are sufficient to
show how little probability there is, in the actual
state of Logical Science, of uniting the opinions
of the learned in favour of any one scheme of
partition. To prefix, therefore, such a scheme
to a work which is professedly to be carried on
by a set of unconnected writers, would be equal¬
ly presumptuous and useless; and, on the most
favourable supposition, could tend only to fetter,
by means of dubious definitions, the subsequent
freedom of thought and of expression. The ex¬
ample of the French Encyclopedie cannot here be
justly alleged as a precedent. The preliminary
pages by which it is introduced were written by
the two persons who projected the whole plan,
and who considered themselves as responsible,
not only for their own admirable articles, but
for the general conduct of the execution; wherc-
. as, on the present occasion, a porch was to be
adapted to an irregular edifice, reared, at differ¬
ent periods, by different architects. It seemed,
accordingly, most advisable to avoid, as much
as possible, in these Introductory Essays, all in¬
novations in language, and, in describing the
different arts and sciences, to follow scrupulous¬
ly the prevailing and most intelligible phrase¬
ology. The task of defining them, with a greater
degree of precision, properly devolves upon those
to whose province it belongs, in the progress of
the work, to unfold in detail their elementary
principles.
The sciences to which I mean to confine my
observations are Metaphysics, Ethics, and Poli¬
tical Philosophy; understanding, by Metaphy¬
sics, not the Ontology and Pneumatology of the
schools, but the inductive Philosophy of the
Human Mind; and limiting the phrase Political
Philosophy almost exclusively to the modern
science of Political Economy; or (to express
myself in terms at once more comprehensive
and more precise) to that branch of the theory
12
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
of legislation which, according to Bacon’s defi- departments of knowledge, and the easy transi-
■nition, aims to ascertain those “ Leges legum, tions by which the curiosity is invited from the
ex quibus informatio peti potest quid in singulis study of any one of them to that of the other
legibus bene aut perperam positum aut constitu- two, will sufficiently appear from the following
turn sit.” The close affinity between these three Historical Review.
DISSERTATION FIRST
PART FIRST.
In the following Historical and Critical
Sketches, it has been judged proper by the dif¬
ferent writers, to confine their views entirely to
the period which has elapsed since the revival of
letters. To have extended their retrospects to
the ancient world would have crowded too great
a multiplicity of objects into the limited canvas
on which they had to work. * For my own part,
I might, perhaps with still greater propriety,
have confined myself exclusively to the two last
centuries; as the Sciences of which I am to
treat, present but little matter for useful remark,
prior to the time of Lord Bacon. I shall make
no apology, however, for devoting, in the first
place, a few pages to some observations of a more
general nature, and to some scanty gleanings of
literary detail, bearing more or less directly on
my principal design.
On this occasion, as well as in the sequel of
my Discourse, I shall avoid, as far as is consist¬
ent with distinctness and perspicuity, the mi¬
nuteness of the mere bibliographer; and, instead'
of attempting to amuse my readers with a series
of critical epigrams, or to dazzle them with a
rapid succession of evanescent portraits, shall
study to fix their attention on those great lights
of the world by whom the torch of science has
been successively seized and transmitted.1 It
is, in fact, such leading characters alone which
furnish matter for philosophical history. To enu¬
merate the names or the labours of obscure or
even secondary authors, whatever amusement it
might afford to men of curious erudition, would
contribute but little to illustrate the origin and
filiation of consecutive systems, or the gradual
developement and progress of the human mind.
1 I have ventured here to combine a scriptural expression with an allusion of Plato’s to a Grecian game;—an allusion which,
m his writings, is finely and pathetically applied to the rapid succession of generations, through which the continuity of
human life is maintained from age to age; and which are perpetually transferring from hand to hand the concerns and du¬
ties of this fleeting scene. rtviw»rsf T£ ixrpf&ovTts Tcii'bcts, xuAa.itip XaiAitaboi ?0'> (iiov ‘Txgu'$i$o*'rts kWois (PLATO, Leg.
hb. vi.)
Et quasi cursores vitai lampada tradunt.—Lucret.
14
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
CHAPTER I.
FROM THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS TO THE PUBLICATION OF BACON’S PHILOSOPHICAL
WORKS.
The long interval, commonly known by tlie
name of the middle ages, which immediately pre¬
ceded the revival of letters in the western part
of Europe, forms the most melancholy blank
which occurs, from the first dawn of recorded
civilisation, in the intellectual and moral his¬
tory of the human race. In one point of view
alone, the recollection of it is not altogether un¬
pleasing, inasmuch as, by the proof it exhibits
of the inseparable connection between ignorance
and prejudice on the one hand, and vice, mi¬
sery, and slavery on the other, it affords, in
conjunction with other causes, which will after¬
wards fall under our review, some security
against any future recurrence of a similar cala¬
mity.
It would furnish a very interesting and in¬
structive subject of speculation, to record and
to illustrate (with the spirit, however, rather of
a philosopher than of an antiquary), the various
abortive efforts, which, during this protracted
and seemingly hopeless period of a thousand
years, were made by enlightened individuals, to
impart to their contemporaries the fruits of their
own acquirements. For in no one age from its
commencement to its close, does the continuity of
knowledge (if I may borrow an expression of Mr
Harris), seem to have been entirely interrupted:
“ There was always a faint twilight, like that
auspicious gleam which, in a summer’s night,
fills up the interval between the setting and the
rising sun.”1 On the present occasion, I shall
content myself with remarking the important
effects produced by the numerous monastic esta¬
blishments all over the Christian world, in pre¬
serving, amidst the general wreck, the inesti¬
mable remains of Greek and Roman refinement;
and in keeping alive, during so many centuries,
those scattered sparks of truth and of science,
which were afterwards to kindle into so bright
a flame. I mention this particularly, because, in
our zeal against the vices and corruptions of the
Romish church, we are too apt to forget, how
deeply we are indebted to its superstitious and
apparently useless foundations, for the most pre¬
cious advantages that we now enjoy.
The study of the Roman Law, which, from a
variety of causes, natural as well as accidental,
became, in the course of the twelfth century, an
object of general pursuit, shot a strong and aus¬
picious ray of intellectual light across the sur¬
rounding darkness. No study could then have
been presented to the curiosity of men, more
happily adapted to improve their taste, to enlarge
their views, or to invigorate their reasoning
powers; and although, in the first instance,
prosecuted merely as the object of a weak and
undistinguishing idolatry, it nevertheless con¬
ducted the student to the very confines of ethical
as well as of political speculation; and served, in
the meantime, as a substitute of no inconsider¬
able value for both these sciences. According¬
ly we find that, while in its immediate effects it
powerfully contributed, wherever it struck its
roots, by ameliorating and systematizing the ad¬
ministration of justice, to accelerate the progress
of order and of civilization, it afterwards furnish¬
ed, in the further career of human advancement,
the parent stock on which were grafted the first
rudiments of pure ethics and of liberal politics
taught in modern times. I need scarcely add,
that I allude to the systems of natural jurispru-
1 Philological Inquiries, Part III. chap. i.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
15
dence compiled by Grotius and his successors;—
systems which, for a hundred and fifty years,
engrossed all the learned industry of the most
enlightened part of Europe; and which, how¬
ever unpromising in their first aspect, were des¬
tined, in the last result, to prepare the way for
that never to be forgotten change in the literary
taste of the eighteenth century, “ which has
evervwhere turned the spirit of philosophical
inquiry from frivolous or abstruse speculations,
to the business and affairs of men.”1
The revival of letters may be considered as
eoeval with the fall of the Eastern empire, to¬
wards the close of the fifteenth century. In con¬
sequence of this event, a number of learned
Greeks took refuge in Italy, where the taste for
literature already introduced by Dante, Petrarch,
and Boccacio, together with the liberal patro¬
nage of the illustrious House of Medicis, secu¬
red them a welcome reception. A knowledge of
the Greek tongue soon became fashionable ; and
the learned, encouraged by the rapid diffusion
which the art of printing now gave to their
labours, vied with each other in rendering the
Greek authors accessible, by means of Latin
translations, to a still wider circle of readers.
For a long time, indeed, after the era just
mentioned, the progress of useful knowledge
was extremely slow. The passion for logical
disputation was succeeded by an unbounded ad¬
miration for the wisdom of antiquity; and in
proportion as the pedantry of the schools disap¬
peared in the universities, that of erudition and
philology occupied its place.
Meanwhile, an important advantage was gain¬
ed in the immense stock of materials which the
ancient authors supplied to the reflections of
speculative men; and which, although frequent¬
ly accumulated with little discrimination or pro¬
fit, were much more favourable to the develope-
ment of taste and of genius than the unsubstan¬
tial subtleties of ontology or of dialectics. By
such studies were formed Erasmus,2 Ludovicus
Vives,3 Sir Thomas More,4 and many other ac¬
complished scholars of a similar character, who,
if they do not rank in the same line with the
daring reformers by whom the errors of the
Catholic church were openly assailed, certainly
exhibit a very striking contrast to the barbarous
and unenlightened writers of the preceding age.
The Protestant Reformation, which followed
immediately after, was itself one of the natural
consequences of the revival of letters, and of the
invention of printing. But although, in one
1 Dr Robertson, from whom I quote these words, has mentioned this change as the glory of the present age, meaning, I
presume, the period which has elapsed since the time of Montesquieu. By what steps the philosophy to which he alludes
took its rise from the systems of jurisprudence previously in fashion, will appear in the sequel of this Discourse.
2 The writings of Erasmus probably contributed still more than those of Luther himselt to the progress of the Reforma¬
tion among men of education and taste; but, without the co-operation of bolder and more decided characters than his, little
would to this day have been effected in Europe among the lower orders. “ Erasmus imagined,” as is. observed by his bio¬
grapher, “ that at length, by training up youth in learning and useful knowledge, those religious improvements would
gradually be brought about, which the Princes, the Prelates, and the Divines of his days could not be persuaded to admit
or to tolerate.” (Jortin, p. 279.) In yielding, however, to this pleasing expectation, Erasmus must have nattered himselt
with the hope, not only of a perfect freedom of literary discussion, but of such reforms in the prevailing modes of instruc¬
tion, as would give complete scope to the energies of the human mind;—for, where books and teachers are subjected to the
censorship of those who are hostile to the dissemination of truth, they become the most powerful ol all auxiliaries to the
authority of established errors. arm
It was long a proverbial saying among the ecclesiastics of the Romish church, that “ Erasmus laid the egg, ana Dut ler
hatched itand there is more truth in the remark, than in most of their sarcasms on the same subject.
3 Ludovicus Vives was a learned Spaniard, intimately connected both with Erasmus and More; with the ormer o
whom he lived for some time at Louvain, “ where they both promoted literature as much as they could, though not with¬
out great opposition from some of the divines.”—Jortin, p. 255. „
“ He was invited into England bv Wolsey, in 1523; and coming to Oxford, he read the Cardinal s lecture of Ilumam y,
and also lectures of Civil Law, which Henry VIII. and his Queen, Catherine, did him the honour ot attending—(Ibid. p.
207.) He died at Bruges in 1554. . , „ , . .
In point of good sense and acuteness, wherever he treats of philosophical questions, he yields to none or his contempo¬
raries ; and in some of his anticipations of the future progress of science, he discovers a mind more comprehensive an
sagacious than any of them. Erasmus appears, from a letter of his to Budaeus, dated in 1521, to have foreseen t e n -
liant career which Vives, then a very young man, was about to run. “ Vives in stadio literano, non minus tehci er quam
gnaviter decertat, et si satis ingenium hominis novi, non conquiescet, donee omnes a tergo rehquent. — 1 or this e er ( e
whole of which is peculiarly interesting, as it contains a character of Sir Thomas More, and an account 01 the extraor ma y
accomplishments of his daughters), See Jortin’s Life of Erasmus, VoL II. p. 366. et seep
, 4 See Note A.
16
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
point of view, only an effect, it is not, on the
present occasion, less entitled to notice than the
causes by which it was produced.
The renunciation, in a great part of Europe,
of theological opinions so long consecrated by
time, and the adoption of a creed more pure in
its principles and more liberal in its spirit, could
not fail to encourage, on all other subjects, a
congenial freedom of inquiry. These circum¬
stances operated still more directly and power¬
fully, by their influence, in undermining the au¬
thority of Aristotlean authority which for
many years was scarcely inferior in the schools
to that of the Scriptures; and which, in some
Universities, was supported by statutes, requir¬
ing the teachers to promise upon oath, that in
their public lectures, they would follow no other
guide.
Luther,1 who was perfectly aware of the cor¬
ruptions which the Romish church had contriv¬
ed to connect with their veneration for the Sta¬
gnate, 2 not only threw off the yoke himself, but,
in various parts of his writings, speaks of Aris¬
totle with the most unbecoming asperity and
contempt.3 In one very remarkable passage,
he asserts, that the study of Aristotle was wholly
useless, not only in Theology, hut in Natural
Philosophy. “ What does it contribute,” he
asks, “ to the knowledge of things, to trifle and
cavil in language conceived and prescribed by
Aristotle, concerning matter, form, motion, and
time?”4 The same freedom of thought on to¬
pics not strictly theological, formed a prominent
feature in the character of Calvin. A curious
instance of it occurs in one of his letters, where
he discusses an ethical question of no small mo¬
ment in the science of political economy;—
“ How far it is consistent with morality to ac¬
cept of interest for a pecuniary loan ?” On this
question, which, even in Protestant countries,
continued, till a very recent period, to divide the
opinions both of divines and lawyers, Calvin
treats the authority of Aristotle and that of the
church with equal disregard. To the former he
opposes a close and logical argument, not un¬
worthy of Mr Bentham. To the latter he replies,
by showing, that the Mosaic law on this point
was not a moral but a municipal prohibition;
a prohibition not to be judged of from any par¬
ticular text of Scripture, but upon the principles
of natural equity.5 The example of these two
Fathers of the Reformation would probably have
been followed by consequences still greater and
more immediate, if Melanchthon had not unfor¬
tunately given the sanction of his name to the
doctrines of the Peripatetic school:6 but still,
among the Reformers in general, the credit of
these doctrines gradually declined, and a spirit
of research and of improvement prevailed.
1 The invention of printing, which took place
* iiorn i4oo, aiea , • • • r
2 In one of his letters he writes thus : “ Ego simpliciter credo, quod impossibile sit ecclesiam rexorman, msi mnditus
canones, decretales, scholastica theologia, philosophia, logica, ut nunc habentur, eradicentur, et alia instituantur.”—Bruck-
ERI Hist. Crit. Phil. Tom. IV. p. 95.
3 For a specimen of Luther’s scurrility against Aristotle, see Bayi-k, Art. Luther, Note HH.
In Luther’s Colloquies Mensalia we are told, that “ he abhorred the Schoolmen, and called them sophistical locusts, cater¬
pillars, frogs, and lice.” From the same work we learn, that “ he hated Aristotle, but highly esteemed Cicero, as a wise
and a good man.”—See Jort in’s Li/e 0/-Erases, p. 121. _ . .
4 “ Nihil adjumenti ex ipso haberi posse non solum ad theologiam seu sacras literas, verum etiam ad ipsam naturaiem
philosophiam. Quid enim juvet ad rerum cognitionem, si de materia, forma, motu, tempore, nugari et cavillari queas ver¬
bis ab Aristotele conceptis et prsescriptis ?”—Bruck. Hist. Phil. Tom. IV. p. 101.
The following passage to the same purpose is quoted by Bayle: “ Non mihi persuadebitis, philosophiam esse garruhta-
tem illam de materia, motu, infinito, loco, vacuo, tempore, quae fere in Aristotele sola discimus, talia quae nec intellectum,
nec affectum, nec communes hominum mores quidquam juvent; tantum contentionibus serendis, seminandisque idonea. —
Bayle, Art. Z/Mi^er, Note HH. _ > .
I borrow from Bayle another short extract from Luther: “ Nihil ita ardet animus, quam histrionem ilium (Aristotelem;,
qui tam vere Graeca larva ecclesiam lusit, multis revelare, ignominiamque ejus cunctis ostendere, si otium esset. Habeo
in manus commentariolos in 1. Physicorum, quibus fabulam Aristaei denuo agere statui in meum istum Protea (Aristotelem).
Pars crucis meae vel maxima est, quod videre cogor fratrum optima ingenia, bonis studiis nata, in istis coenis vitam agere,
et operam perdere.”—Ibid.
That Luther was deeply skilled in the scholastic philosophy we learn from very high authority, that of Melanchthon:
who tells us farther, that he was a strenuous partizan of the sect of Nominalists, or, as they were then generally called,
Terminists—Brock. Tom. IV. pp. 93, 94, et seq.
B See Note B. .
* “ Et Melanchthoni quidem praecipue debetur conservatio philosophise Aristotelicse in aeademiis protestantium. Scnpsit
is compendia plerarumque disciplinarum philosophise Aristotelicse, quse in Academiis diu regnarunt.”—Heineccji, Elem.
Hist. Phil. § ciii. See also Bayle’s Dictionary, Art. Melanchthon.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
17
very nearly at tire same time with the fall of
the Eastern Empire, besides adding greatly to
the efficacy of the causes above-mentioned, must
have been attended with very important effects
of its own, on the progress of the human mind.
For us who have been accustomed, from our in¬
fancy, to the use of hooks, it is not easy to form
an adequate idea of the disadvantages which
those laboured under, who had to acquire the
whole of their knowledge through the medium
of universities and schools;—blindly devoted as
the generality of students must then have been
to the peculiar opinions of the teacher who first
unfolded to their curiosity the treasures of lite¬
rature and the wonders of science. Thus error
was perpetuated; and, instead of yielding to
time, acquired additional influence in each suc¬
cessive generation.! In modern times, this in¬
fluence of names is, comparatively speaking, at
an end. The object of a public teacher is no
longer to inculcate a particular system of dog¬
mas, but to prepare his pupils for exercising
their own j udgments; to exhibit to them an
outline of the different sciences, and to suggest
subjects for their future examination. The few
attempts to establish schools and to found sects,
have all, after perhaps a temporary success,
proved abortive. Their effect, too, during their
short continuance, has been perfectly the reverse
of that of the schools of antiquity; for where¬
as these were instrumental, on many occasions,
in establishing and diffusing error in the world,
the founders of our modern sects, by mixing up
important truths with their own peculiar tenets,
and by disguising them under the garb of a tech¬
nical phraseology, have fostered such prejudices
against themselves, as have blinded the public
mind to all the lights they were able to commu¬
nicate. Of this remark a melancholy illustra¬
tion occurs, as M. Turgot long ago predicted,
in the case of the French Economists; and
many examples of a similar import might he pro¬
duced from the history of science in our coun¬
try; more particularly from the history of the va¬
rious medical and metaphysical schools which
successively rose and fell during the last century.
With the circumstances already suggested, as
conspiring to accelerate the progress of know¬
ledge, another has co-operated very extensively
and powerfully; the rise of the lower orders in
the different countries of Europe,—in conse¬
quence partly of the enlargement of commerce,
and partly of the efforts of the Sovereigns to re¬
duce the overgrown power of the feudal aristo¬
cracy.
Without this emancipation of the lower or¬
ders, and the gradual diffusion of wealth by
which it was accompanied, the advantages de¬
rived from the invention of printing would have
been extremely limited. A certain degree of
ease and independence is essentially requisite to
inspire men with the desire of knowledge, and
to afford the leisure necessary for acquiring it;
and it is only by the encouragement which such
a state of society presents to industry and ambi¬
tion, that the selfish passions of the multitude
can be interested in the intellectual improve¬
ment of their children. It is only, too, in such
a state of society, that education and hooks are
likely to increase the sum of human happiness;
for while these advantages are confined to one
privileged description of individuals, they hut
furnish them with an additional engine for de¬
basing and misleading the minds of their inie-
riors. To all which it may be added, that it is
chiefly by the shock and collision of different and
opposite prejudices, that truths are gradually
cleared from that admixture of error which they
have so strong a tendency to acquire, wherever
the course of public opinion is forcibly con-
1 It was in consequence of this mode of conducting education by means of oral instruction alone, that the^ different sects
of philosophy arose in ancient Greece; and it seems to have been with a view of counteracting the obvious inconveniences
resulting from them, that Socrates introduced his peculiar method of questioning, with an air of sceptical dimdence, lose
whom he was anxious to instruct; so as to allow them, in forming their conclusions, the complete and unbiassed exercise
of their own reason. Such, at least, is the apology offered for the apparent indecision of the Academic school, by one o
its wisest as well as most eloquent adherents. “ As for other sects,” says Cicero, “ who are bound in fetters, before they
are able to form any iudgment of what is right or true, and who have been led to yield themselves ip their tender ,
years, to the guidance of some friend, or to the captivating eloquence of the teacher whom they have first ear , icy as¬
sume to themselves the right of pronouncing upon questions of which they are completely ignorant; adhering o w a er e
creed the wind of doctrine may have driven them, as if it were the only rock on which their safety depende . i •
Lucullus, 3. i _ *. * •
DISS. I. PART I. C
18
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
strained and guided within certain artificial
channels, marked out by the narrow views of
human policy. The diffusion of knowledge,
therefore, occasioned by the rise of the lower
orders, would necessarily contribute to the im¬
provement of useful science, not merely in pro¬
portion to the arithmetical number of cultivated
minds now combined in the pursuit of truth,
hut in a proportion tending to accelerate that
important effect with a far greater rapidity.
Nor ought we here to overlook the influence
of the foregoing causes, in encouraging among
authors the practice of addressing the multitude
in their own vernacular tongues. The zeal of
the Reformers first gave birth to this invaluable
innovation, and imposed on their adversaries
the necessity of employing, in their own de¬
fence, the same weapons.1 From that moment
the prejudice began to vanish which had so
long confounded knowledge with erudition; and
a revolution commenced in the republic of let¬
ters, analogous to what the invention of gun¬
powder produced in the art of war. “ All the
splendid distinctions of mankind,” as the Cham¬
pion and Flower of Chivalry indignantly ex¬
claimed, “ were thereby thrown down; and
the naked shepherd levelled with the knight
clad in steel.”
To all these considerations may be added the
gradual effects of time and experience in cor¬
recting the, errors and prejudices which had
misled philosophers during so long a succession
of ages. To this cause, chiefly, must be ascrib¬
ed the ardour with which we find various inge¬
nious men, soon after the period in question,
employed in prosecuting experimental inquiries ;
a species of study to which nothing analogous
occurs in the history of apcient science.2 The
boldest and most successful of this new school
was the celebrated Paracelsus, born in 1493,
and consequently only ten years younger than
Luther. ct It is impossible to doubt,” says Le
Clerc, in his History of Physic, <c that he pos¬
sessed an extensive knowledge of what is called
the Materia Medica, and that he had employed
much time in working on the animal, the vege¬
table, and the mineral substances of which it is
composed. He seems, besides, to have tried an
immense number of experiments in chemistry;
but he has this great defect, that he studiously
conceals or disguises the results of his long ex¬
perience.” The same author quotes from Pa¬
racelsus a remarkable expression, in which he
calls the philosophy of Aristotle a wooden foun¬
dation. u He ought to have attempted,” con¬
tinues Le Clerc, “ to have laid a better ; but if
he has not done it, he has at least, by discover¬
ing its weakness, invited his successors to look
out for a firmer basis.”5
Lord Bacon himself, while he censures the
moral frailties of Paracelsus, and the blind em¬
piricism of his followers, indirectly acknowledges
the extent of his experimental information:
“ The ancient sophists may be said to have hid,
but Paracelsus extinguished the light of nature.
The sophists were only deserters of experience,
but Paracelsus has betrayed it. At the same
time, he is so far from understanding the right
method of conducting experiments, or of record¬
ing their results, that he has added to the trouble
and tediousness of experimenting. By wander¬
ing through the wilds of experience, his disciples
sometimes stumble upon useful discoveries, not
by reason, but by accident;—whence rashly
proceeding to form theories, they cafry the
smoke and tarnish of their art along with them;
and, like childish operators at the furnace, at¬
tempt to raise a structure of philosophy with a
few experiments of distillation.”
Two other circumstances, of a nature widely
different from those hitherto enumerated, al¬
though, probably, in no small degree to be ac¬
counted for on the same principles, seconded,
with an incalculable accession of power, the sud-
1 “ The sacred books were, in almost all the kingdoms and states of Europe, translated into the language of each respec¬
tive people, particularly in Germany, Italy, France, and Britain.”—(Mosheim’s Eccles. Hist. Vol. III. p. 265.) The effect
of this single circumstance in multiplying the number of readers and of thinkers, and in giving a certain stability to the
mutable forms of oral speech, may be easily imagined. The common translation of the Bible into English is pronounced by
Dr Lowth to be still the best standard of our language.
2 “ Haec nostra (ut ssepe diximus) felicitatis cujusdam sunt potius quam facultatis, et potius temporis partus quam ingenii.”~*
Nov. Org. Lib. i. c. xxiii.
* Histoire de la Medecine (a la Haye, 1729), p. 819.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
19
den impulse which the human mind had j ust re¬
ceived. The same century which the invention
of printing and the revival of letters have made
for ever memorable, was also illustrated by the dis¬
covery of the New World, and of the passage to
India by the Cape of Good Hope ;—events which
may be justly regarded as fixing a new era in
the political and moral history of mankind, and
which still continue to exert a growing influence
over the general condition of our species. “ It
is an era,” as Raynal observes, “ which gave
rise to a revolution, not only in the commerce
of nations, but in the manners, industry, and
government of the world. At this period new
connections were formed by the inhabitants of
the most distant regions, for the supply of wants
which they had never before experienced. The
productions of climates situated under the equa¬
tor, were consumed in countries bordering on
the pole; the industry of the north was trans¬
planted to the south; and the inhabitants of the
west were clothed with the manufactures of the
east; a general intercourse of opinions, laws and
customs, diseases and remedies, virtues and vices,
was established among men.”
“ Every thing,” continues the same writer,
“ has changed, and must yet change more. But
it is a question, whether the revolutions that are
past, or those which must hereafter take place,
have been, or can be, of any utility to the hu¬
man race. Will they add to the tranquillity, to
the enjoyments, and to the happiness of man¬
kind ? Can they improve our present state, or
do they only change it ?”
I have introduced this quotation, not with the
design of attempting at present any reply to the
very interesting question with which it con¬
cludes, but merely to convey some slight notion
of the political and moral importance of the
events in question. I cannot, however, forbear
to remark, in addition to Raynal’s eloquent and
impressive summary, the inestimable treasure of
new facts which these events have furnished for
illustrating the versatile nature of man, and the
history of civil society. In this respect (as Ba¬
con has well observed) they have fully verified
the Scripture prophecy, multi pertransibunt et au-
gebitur scientia ; or, in the still more emphatical
words of our English version, “ Many shall go
to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.”1
The same prediction may be applied to the gra¬
dual renewal, (in proportion as modern govern¬
ments became effectual in securing order and
tranquillity) of that intercourse between the dif¬
ferent states of Europe, which had, in a great
measure, ceased during the anarchy and turbu¬
lence of the middle ages.
In consequence of these combined causes, aid¬
ed by some others of secondary importance,2 the
Genius of the human race seems, all at once,
to have awakened with renovated and giant
strength, from his long sleep. In less than a
1 “ Neque omittenda est prophetia Danielis de ultimis mundi temporibus; multi pertransibunt et augebitur scientia: Ma-
nifeste innuens et significans, esse in fatis, id est, in providentia, ut pertransitus mundi (qui per tot longinquas navigationes
inipletur plane, aut jamin opere esse videtur) et augmenta scientiarum in eandem setatem incidant.’"—Nov. Org. Lib. xciii.
2 Such as the accidental inventions of the telescope and of the microscope. The powerful influence of these inventions may
be easily conceived, not only in advancing the sciences of Astronomy and of Natural History, but in banishing many of
the scholastic prejudices then universally prevalent. The effects of the telescope, in this respect, have been often re¬
marked; but less attention has been given to those of the microscope, which, however, it is probable, contributed not a
little to prepare the way for the modem revival of the Atomic or Corpuscular Philosophy, by Bacon, Gassendi, and New¬
ton. That, on the mind of Bacon, the wonders disclosed by the microscope produced a strong impression in favour of the
Epicurean physics, may be inferred from his own words. “ Perspicillum (microscopicum) si vidisset Democritus, exsilu-
isset forte; et modum videndi Atomum, quem ille invisibilem omnino aflirmavit, inventum fuisse putasset.”—Nov. Org.
Lib. ii. § 39.
We are told in the Life of Galileo, that when the telescope was invented, some individuals carried to so great a length
their devotion to Aristotle, that they positively refused to look through that instrument: so averse were they to open
their eyes to any truths inconsistent with their favourite creed {Vita di Galileo, Venezia, 1744). It is amusing to find
some other followers of the Stagirite, a very few years afterwards, when they found it impossible any longer to call in
question the evidence of sense, asserting that it was from a passage in Aristotle, where he attempts to explain why stars
become visible in the day-time when viewed from the bottom of a deep well, that the invention of the telescope was bor¬
rowed. The two facts, when combined, exhibit a truly characteristical portrait of one of the most fatal weaknesses
incident to humanity; and form a moral apologue, daily exemplified on subjects of still nearer and higher interest than
the phenomena of the heavens.
In ascribing to accident the inventions of the telescope and of the microscope, I have expressed myself in conformity to
oommon language; but it ought not to be overlooked, that an invention may be accidental with respect to the particular
author, and yet may be the natural result of the circumstances of society at the period when it took place. As to the in¬
struments in question, the combination of lenses employed in their structure is so simple, that it could scarcely escape the
notice of all the experimenters and mechanicians of that busy and inquisitive age. A similar remark has been made by
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
20
century from the invention of printing, and the
fall of the Eastern empire, Copernicus discovered
the true theory of the planetary motions, and a
very few years afterwards, was succeeded by the
three great precursors of Newton,—Tycho Brahe,
Kepler, and Galileo.
The step made by Copernicus may he justly
regarded as one of the proudest triumphs of hu¬
man reason;—whether we consider the sagacity
which enabled the author to obviate, to his own
satisfaction, the many plausible objections which
must have presented themselves against his con¬
clusions, at a period when the theory of motion
was so imperfectly understood ; or the hold spi¬
rit of inquiry which encouraged him to exercise
his private judgment, in opposition to the autho¬
rity of Aristotle,—to the decrees of the church
of Rome,—and to the universal belief of the
learned, during a long succession of ages. He
appears, indeed, to have well merited the enco¬
mium bestowed on him by Kepler, who calls
him “ a man of vast genius, and, what is of still
greater moment in these researches, a man of a
free mind.”
The establishment of the Copernican system,
beside the new field of study which it opened to
Astronomers, must have had great effects on
philosophy in all its branches, by inspiring those
sanguine prospects of future improvement, which
stimulate curiosity, and invigorate the inventive
powers. It afforded to the common sense, even
of the illiterate, a palpable and incontrovertible
proof, that the ancients had not exhausted the
stock of possible discoveries; and that, in mat¬
ters of science, the creed of the Romish church
was not infallible. In the conclusion of one of
Kepler’s works, we perceive the influence of
these prospects on his mind. “ Hsec et cetera
hujusmodi latent in pandectis sevi sequentis, non
antea discenda, quam librum hunc Deus arbiter
sseculorum recluserit mortalibus.”1
I have hitherto taken no notice of the effects
of the revival of letters on Metaphysical, Moral,
or Political science. The truth is, that little de¬
serving of our attention occurs in any of these
departments prior to the seventeenth century;
and nothing which bears the most remote ana¬
logy to the rapid strides made, during the six¬
teenth, in mathematics, astronomy, and physics.
The influence, indeed, of the Reformation on
the practical doctrines of ethics appears to have
been great and immediate. We may judge of
this from a passage in Melanchthon, where he
combats the pernicious and impious tenets of
those theologians who maintained, that moral
distinctions are created entirely by the arbitrary
and revealed will of God. In opposition to this
heresy, he expresses himself in these memorable
words :—“ Wherefore our decision is this; that
those precepts which learned men have commit¬
ted to writing, transcribing them from the com¬
mon reason and common feelings of human na¬
ture, are to be accounted as not less divine, than
those contained in the tables given to Moses;
and that it could not be the intention of our
Maker to supersede, by a law graven upon stone,
that which is written with his own finger on the
table of the heart.”2—This language was, un¬
doubtedly, a most important step towards a just
system of Moral Philosophy; but still, like the
other steps of the Reformers, it was only a return
to common sense, and to the genuine spirit of
Christianity, from the dogmas imposed on the
credulity of mankind by an ambitious priest¬
hood.3 Many years were yet to elapse, before
Condorcet concerning the invention of printing. “ L’invention de rimprimerie a sans doute avance le progres de I’espece
humaine; mais cette invention £toit elle-mexne unesuite de 1’usagede la lecture repandu dans un grand nombre de pays.”—
Vie de Turgot.
1 Epit. Astron. Copernic.
* Proinde sic statuimus, nihilo minus divina prcecepta esse ea, quae a sensu communi et naturae judicio mutuati docti ho¬
mines gentiles literis mandarunt, quam quae extant in ipsis saxeis MOsis tabulis. Neque ille ipse caelestis Pater pluris a
nobis fieri eas leges voluit, quas in saxo scripsit, quam quas in ipsos ammorum nostrorum sensus impresserat.”
Not having it in my power at present to consult Melanchthon’s works, I have transcribed the foregoing paragraph on the
authority ol a learned German Professor, Christ. Meiners—See his Historia Doctrinoe de Vero Deo. Lemgoviae, 1780, p. 12.
3 It is observed by Dr Cudworth, that the doctrine which refers the origin of moral distinctions to the arbitrary ap¬
pointment of the Deity, was strongly reprobated by the ancient fathers of the Christian church, and that “ it crept up
afterward in the scholastic ages; Occam being among the first that maintained that there is no act evil, but as it is prohi¬
bited by God, and which cannot be made good, if it be commanded by him. In this doctrine he was quickly followed by
Petrus Alliacus, Andreas de Novo Castro, and others.”—See Treatise of Immutable Morality.
\ R is pleasing to remark, how very generally the heresy here ascribed to Occam is now reprobated by good men of all
DISSERTATION FIRST.
21
any attempts were to be made to trace, with
analytical accuracy, the moral phenomena of
human life to their first principles in the consti¬
tution and condition of man, or even to disen¬
tangle the plain and practical lessons of ethics
from the speculative and controverted articles of
theological systems.1
A similar observation may be applied to the
powerful appeals, in the early Protestant wri¬
ters, to the moral judgment and moral feelings
of the human race, from those casuistical subtle¬
ties, with which the schoolmen and monks of
the middle ages had studied to obscure the light
of nature, and to stifle the voice of conscience.
These subtleties were precisely analogous in
their spirit to the pia et religiosa calliditas, after¬
wards adopted in the casuistry of the Jesuits,
and so inimitably exposed by Pascal in the Pro-
vincial Letters. The arguments against them
employed by the Reformers, cannot, in strict pro¬
priety, be considered as positive accession to the
stock of human knowledge; but what scientific
discoveries can he compared to them in value ! *
From this period may be dated the decline5
of that worst of all heresies of the Romish
church, which, by opposing Revelation to Rea¬
son, endeavoured to extinguish the light of both ;
and the absurdity, so happily described by
Locke, became every day more manifest, of at¬
tempting “ to persuade men to put out their
eyes, that they might the better receive the re¬
mote light of an invisible star by a telescope.”
persuasions. The Catholics have even begun to recriminate on the Reformers as the first broachers of it; and it is to be
regretted, that in some of the writings of the latter, too near approaches to it are to be found. The truth is, as Burnet
long ago observed, that the effects of the Reformation have not been confined to the reformed churches;—to which it may
be added, that both Catholics and Protestants have, since that era, profited very largely by the general progress of the
sciences and of human reason.
I quote the following sentence from a highly respectable Catholic writer on the law of nature and nations:—“ Qui ra-
tionem exsulare jubent a moralibus praeceptis quae in sacris literis traduntur, et in absurdam enormemque Lutiie-iu sen-
tentiam imprudentes incidunt (quam egregie et elegantissime refutavit Melchior Canus Loc. Theolog. Lib. ix. et x.), et ea
docent, quae si sectatores inveniant moralia omnia susque deque miscere, ac revelationem ipsam inutilem omnino et ineffi-
cacem reddere possent.”—(Lampkedi Florentini Juris Naturae et Gentium Theorcmata, Tom. II. p. 195. Pisis, 1782). For
the continuation of the passage, which would do credit to the most liberal Protestant, I must refer to the original work. The.
zeal of Luther for the doctrine of the Nominalists had probably prepossessed him, in his early years, in favour of some of
the theological tenets of Occam, and afterwards prevented him from testifying his disapprobation of them so explicitly and
decidedly as Melanchthon and other reformers have done.
1 “ The theological system (says the learned and judicious Mosheim) that now prevails in the Lutheran academies, is not
of the same tenor or spirit with that which was adopted in the infancy of the Reformation. The glorious defenders of re¬
ligious liberty, to whom we owe the various blessings of the Reformation, could not, at once, behold the truth in all its
lustre, and in all its extent; but, as usually happens to persons that have been long accustomed to the darkness of igno¬
rance, their approaches towards knowledge were but slow, and their views of things but imperfect.”—(Maclaine’s TransL
of Mosheim. London, 2d ed. Vol. IV. p. 19.) He afterwards mentions one of Luther’s early disciples (AmsdorfF) “ who
was so far transported and infatuated by his excessive zeal for the supposed doctrine of his master, as to maintain, that
good works are an impediment to salvation.”—Ibid. p. 39.
Mosheim, after remarking that “ there are more excellent rules of conduct in the few practical productions of Luther
and Melanchthon, than are to be found in the innumerable volumes of all the ancient casuists and moralisersf candidly ac¬
knowledges, “ that the notions of these great men concerning the important science of morality were far from being suffi¬
ciently accurate or extensive. Melanchthon himself, whose exquisite judgment rendered him peculiarly capable of re¬
ducing into a compendious system the elements of every science, never seems to have thought of treating morals in this
manner; but has inserted, on the contrary, all his practical rules and instructions, under the theological articles that relate
to the law, sin, free-will, faith, hope, and charity.”—Mosheim’s Eccles. Hist. Vol. IV. pp. 23. 24.
The same author elsewhere observes, that “ the progress of morality among the reformed was obstructed by the very
same means that retarded its improvement among the Lutherans ; and that it was left in a rude and imperfect state by
Calvin and his associates. It was neglected amidst the tumult of controversy ; and, while every pen was drawn to main¬
tain certain systems of doctrine, few were employed in cultivating that master-science which has virtue, life, and manners,
for its objects.”—Hid. pp. 120. 121.
3 “ Et tamen hi doctores angelici, cheruhici, seraphici, non modo universam philosophiam.ac theologiam erroribusquam-
plurimis inquinarunt: verum etiam in philosophiam moralem invexere sacerrima ista principia probabilismi, methodi dirigendi
intentionem, reservationis mentalis,peccaii philosophici, quibus Jesuitae etiamnum mirifice delectantur.”—Heinecc. Elem. Histor.
Phil. § ci. See also the references. . . "
With respect to the ethics of the Jesuits, which exhibit a very fair picture of the general state of that science, prior to
the Reformation, Seethe Provincial Letters; Mosheim’s Ecclesiastical History, Vol. IV. p. 354; Dornford’s Translation of
Putter's Historical Developement of the present Political Constitution of the Germanic Empire, Vol. II. p. 6.; and the Appendix
to Penrose’s Hampton Lectures.
3 I have said, the decline of this heresy ; for it was by no means immediately extirpated even in the reformed churches.
“ As late as the year 1598, Daniel Hofman, Professor of Divinity in the University of Helmstadt, laying hold of some
particular opinions of Luther, extravagantly maintained, that philosophy was the mortal enemy of religion ; that truth was
divisible into two branches, the one philosophical and the other theological; and that what was true in philosophy was false in
theology.”—Mosheim, Vol. IV. p. 18.
22
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
In the meantime, a powerful obstacle to the
progress of practical morality and of sound policy,
was superadded to those previously existing in
Catholic countries, by the rapid growth and ex¬
tensive influence of the Machiavelian school.
The founder of this new sect, or, to speak more
correctly, the systematize!* and apostle of its
doctrines, was horn as early as 1469, that is,
about ten years before Luther; and, like that
reformer, acquired, by the commanding superio¬
rity of his genius, an astonishing ascendant,
though of a very different nature, over the
minds of his followers. INo writer, certainly,
either in ancient or in modern times, has ever
united, in a more remarkable degree, a greater
variety of the most dissimilar and seemingly
the most discordant gifts and attainments ;—a
profound acquaintance with all those arts of dis¬
simulation and intrigue, which in the petty
cabinets of Italy, were then universally con¬
founded with political wisdom ; an imagination
familiarized to the cool contemplation of what¬
ever is perfidious or atrocious in the history of
conspirators and of tyrants; combined with a
graphical skill in holding up to laughter the
comparatively harmless follies of ordinary life.
His dramatic humour has been often compared
to that of Moliere ; but it resembles it rather in
comic force, than in benevolent gaiety or in
chastened morality. Such as it is, however, it
forms an extraordinary contrast to that strength
of intellectual character, which, in one page,
reminds us of the deep sense of Tacitus, and in
the next, of the dark and infernal policy of
Caesar Borgia. To all this must be supperadded
a purity of taste, which has enabled him, as an
historian, to rival the severe simplicity of the
Grecian masters; and a sagacity in combining
historical facts, which was afterwards to afford
lights to the school of Montesquieu.
Eminent, however, as the talents of Ma-
chiavel unquestionably were, he cannot be num¬
bered among the benefactors of mankind. In
none of his writings does he exhibit any marks
of that lively sympathy with the fortunes of the
human race, or of that warm zeal for the inte¬
rests of truth and justice, without the guidance
of which, the highest mental endowments, when
applied to moral or to political researches, are
in perpetual danger of mistaking their way.
What is still more remarkable, he seems to have
been altogether blind to the mighty changes in
human affairs, which, in consequence of the re¬
cent invention of printing, were about to result
from the progress of Reason and the diffusion
of Knowledge. Through the whole of hisPrmce
(the most noted as well as one of the latest of
his publications) he proceeds on the supposition,
that the sovereign has no other object in go¬
verning, but his own advantage,; the very cir¬
cumstance which, in the judgment of Aristotle,
constitutes the essence of the worst species of
tyranny.1 He assumes also the possibility of
retaining mankind in perpetual bondage by the
old policy of the double doctrine ; or, in other
words, by enlightening the few, and hoodwink¬
ing the many;—a policy less or more practised
by statesmen in all ages and countries; but
which, wherever the freedom of the press is re¬
spected, cannot fail, by the insult it offers to
the discernment of the multitude, to increase
the insecurity of those who have the weakness
to employ it. It has been contended, indeed,
by some of Machiavel’s apologists, that his real
object in unfolding and systematising the mys¬
teries of King-Craft,was to point out indirectly
to the governed the means by which the en¬
croachments of their rulers might be most ef¬
fectually resisted; and, at the same time, to
satirize, under the ironical mask of loyal and
courtly admonition, the characteristical vices of
princes.2 But, although this hypothesis has
been sanctioned by several distinguished names,
and derives some verisimilitude from various in¬
cidents in the author’s life, it will be found, on
examination, quite untenable; and accordingly
it is now, I believe, very generally rejected.
One thing is certain, that if such were actually
1 u There is a third kind of tyranny, which most properly deserves that odious name, and which stands in direct opposi¬
tion to royalty ; it takes place when one man, the worst perhaps and basest in the country, governs a kingdom with no
other view than the advantage of himself and his family.”—Atustotle’s Politics, Book vi. chap. x. See Dr Gillies’s
Translation.
2 See Note C.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
23
Machiavel’s views, they were much too refined
for the capacity of his royal pupils. By many
of these his hook has been adopted as a manual
for daily use; hut I have never heard of a single
instance, in which it has been regarded by this
class of students as a disguised panegyric upon
liberty and virtue. The question concerning the
motives of the author is surely of little moment,
when experience has enabled us to pronounce so
decidedly on the practical effects of his precepts.
“ About the period of the Reformation,” says
Condorcet, “ the principles of religious Machia-
velism had become the only creed of princes, of
ministers, and of pontiffs; and the same opinions
had contributed to corrupt philosophy. What
code, indeed, of morals,” he adds, “ was to he
expected from a system, of which one of the
principles is,—that it is necessary to support the
morality of the people by false pretences, and
that men of enlightened minds have a right to
retain others in the chains from which they have
themselves contrived to escape !” The fact is
perhaps stated in terms somewhat too unquali¬
fied ; but there are the best reasons for believing
that the exceptions were few, when compared
with the general proposition.
The consequences of the prevalence of such a
creed among the rulers of mankind were such
as might he expected. “ Infamous crimes, as¬
sassinations, and poisonings (says a French his¬
torian), prevailed more than ever. They were
thought to he the growth of Italy, where the
rage and weakness of the opposite factions con¬
spired to multiply them. Morality gradually
disappeared, and with it all security in the inter¬
course of life. The first principles of duty
were obliterated by the joint influence of atheism
and of superstition.”1
And here, may I be permitted to caution my
readers against the common error of confound¬
ing the double doctrine of Machiavelian politi¬
cians, with the benevolent reverence for establish¬
ed opinions, manifested in the noted maxim of
Fontenelle,—“ that a wise man, even when his
hand was full of truths, would often content
himself with opening his little finger.” Of the
advocates for the former, it may he justly said,
that “ they love darkness rather than light,
because their deeds are evil;” Avell knowing, if I
may borrow the words of Bacon, “ that the
open day-light doth not show the masks and
mummeries, and triumphs of the world, half so
stately as candle-light.” The philosopher, on
the other hand, who is duly impressed with the
latter, may he compared to the oculist, who,
after removing the cataract of his patient, pre¬
pares the still irritable eye, by the glimmering
dawn of a darkened apartment, for enjoying in
safety the light of day.2
Machiavel is well known to have been, at
bottom, no friend to the priesthood; and his
character has been stigmatized by many of the
order with the most opprobrious epithets. It is
nevertheless certain, that to his maxims the
royal defenders of the Catholic faith have been
indebted for the spirit of that policy which they
have uniformly opposed to the innovations of the
Reformers. The Prince was a favourite hook of
the Emperor Charles V.; and was called the
Bible of Catharine of Medicis. At the court of
the latter, while Regent of France, those who
approached her are said to have professed open-
1 Millot.
2 How strange is the following misrepresentation of Fontenelle’s fine and deep saying, by the comparatively coarse hand
of the Baron de Grimm ! “ II disoit, que s’il eut tenu la verite dans ses mains comme un oiseau, il I’auroit etouffee, tant il
regardoit le plus beau present du ciel inutile et dangereux pour le genre humain.”—(Memoires Historiques, &c. par le
Baron de Grimm. Londres, 1814. Tome I. p. 340.) Of the complete inconsistency of this statement, not only with the
testimony of his most authentic biographers, but with the general tenor both of his life and writings, a judgment may be
formed from an expression of D’Alembert, in his very ingenious and philosophical parallel between Fontenelle and La
Motte. “ Tous deux ont porte trop loin leur re volte'ddcidee, quoique douce en apparence, contre les dieux et les lois du
Parnasse; mais la liberte des opinions de la Motte semble tenir plus intimement a Pinte'ret personnel qu’il avoit de les
soutenir; et la liberte des opinions de Fontenelle a Vinterct general, peut-ttre qnelquefois mol entendu, qu'il prenoit au progres
de la raison dans tons les genres. What follows may be regarded in the light of a comment on the maxim above quoted :
. ha finesse de la Motte est plus de'veloppe'e, celle de Fontenelle laisse plus a deviner a son lecteur. La Motte, sans
jamais en trop dire, n’oublie de ce que son sujet lui presente, met habilement tout en oeuvre, et semble craindre perdre
par des reticences trop subtiles quelqu’un de ses avantages ; Fontenelle, sans jamais etre obscur, excepte pour ceux qui
ne meritent pas meme qu’on soit clair, se me'nage a la fois et le plaisir de sous-entendre, et celui d’esperer qu’il sera pleine-
nient entendu par ceux qui en sont dignes.”—Eloge de la Motte.
24
preliminary dissertations.
ly its most atrocious maxims; particularly that
which recommends to sovereigns not to commit
crimes by halves. The Italian cardinals, who
are supposed to have been the secret instigators
of the massacre of St Bartholomew, were bred
in the same school.1
It is observed by Mr Hume, that u there is
scarcely any maxim in the Prince^ which subse¬
quent experience has not entirely refuted.
“ Machiavel,” says the same writer, “ was cer¬
tainly a great genius; but having confined his
study to the furious and tyrannical governments
of ancient times, or to the little disorderly prin¬
cipalities of Italy, his reasonings, especially upon
monarchical governments, have been found ex¬
tremely defective. The errors of this politician
proceeded, in a great measure, from his having
lived in too early an age of the world, to be a
good judge of political truth.”4
To these very judicious remarks, it may be
added, that the bent of Machiavel’s mind seems
to have disposed him much more strongly to
combine and to generalize his historical reading,
than to remount to the first principles of politi¬
cal science, in the constitution of human nature,
and in the immutable truths of morality. His
conclusions, accordingly, ingenious and refined
as they commonly are, amount to little more
(with a few very splendid exceptions) than em¬
pirical results from the events of past ages. To
the student of ancient history they may be often
both interesting and instructive; but, to the
modern politician, the most important lesson
they afford is, the danger, in the present circum¬
stances of the world, of trusting to such re¬
sults, as maxims of universal application, or of
permanent utility.
The progress of political philosophy, and along
with it of morality and good order, in every
part of Europe, since the period of which I am
now speaking, forms so pleasing a comment on
the profligate and short-sighted policy of Ma¬
chiavel, that I cannot help pausing for a mo¬
ment to remark the fact. In stating it, I shall
avail myself of the words of the same profound
writer, whose strictures on Machiavel’s Prince I
had already occasion to quote. “ Though all
kinds of government,” says Mr Hume, “ be im¬
proved in modern times, yet monarchical govern¬
ment seems to have made the greatest advances
towards perfection. It may now be affirmed of
civilized monarchies, what was formerly said of
republics alone, that they are a government of
laws, not of men. They are found susceptible
of order, method, and constancy, to a surprising
degree. Property is there secure, industry en¬
couraged, the arts flourish, and the prince lives
secure among his subjects, like a father among
his children. There are, perhaps, and have been
for two centuries, near two hundred absolute
princes, great and small, in Europe; and allow¬
ing twenty years to each reign, we may suppose
that there have been in the whole two thousand
monarchs, or tyrants, as the Greeks would have
called them. Yet of these there has not been
one, not even Philip II. of Spain, so bad as
Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, or Domitian, who were
four in twelve among the Roman Emperors. 5
For this very remarkable fact, it seems diffi¬
cult to assign any cause equal to the effect, but
the increased diffusion of knowledge (imperfect,
alas ! as this diffusion still is) by means of the
Press; which, while it has raised, in free states, a
growing bulwark against the oppression of rulers,
in the light and spirit of the people, has, even
under the most absolute governments, had a
powerful influence—by teaching princes to re¬
gard the wealth and prosperity and instruction of
their subjects as the firmest basis of their gran¬
deur—in directing their attention to objects of
national and permanent utility. How encoura¬
ging the prospect thus opened of the future his¬
tory of the world ! And what a motive to ani¬
mate the ambition of those, who, in the solitude
of the closet, aspire to bequeath their contribu¬
tions, how slender soever, to the progressive
mass of human improvement and happiness !
In the bright constellation of scholars, histo¬
rians, artists, and wits, who shed so strong a
lustre on Italy during that splendid period of its
history which commences with the revival of
1 Voltaire, Essay on Universal History.
2 Essay on Civil Liberty.
3 Ibid.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
25
letters, it is surprising how few names occur,
which it is possible to connect, by any palpable
link, with the philosophical or political specula¬
tions of the present times. As an original and
profound thinker, the genius of Machiavel com¬
pletely eclipses that of all his contemporaries
Not that Italy was then destitute of writers who
pretended to the character of philosophers; hut
as their attempts were, in general, limited to the
exclusive illustration and defence of some one
or other of the ancient systems for which they
had conceived a predilection, they added but
little of their own to the stock of useful know¬
ledge, and are now remembered chiefly from
the occasional recurrence of their names in the
catalogues of the curious, or in the works of
philological erudition. The zeal of Cardinal
Bessarion, and of Marsilius Ficinus, for the re¬
vival of the Platonic philosophy, was more pe¬
culiarly remarkable, and, at one time, produced
so general an impression, as to alarm the follow¬
ers of Aristotle for the tottering authority of
their master. If we may credit Launoius, this
great revolution was on the point of being ac¬
tually accomplished, when Cardinal Bellarmine
warned Pope Clement VIII. of the peculiar dan¬
ger of showing any favour to a philosopher
whose opinions approached so nearly as those
of Plato to the truths revealed in the Gospel.
In what manner Bellarmine connected his con¬
clusions with his premises, we are not informed.
To those who are uninitiated in the mysteries of
the conclave, his inference would certainly ap¬
pear much less logical than that of the old Ro ¬
man Pagans, who petitioned the Senate to con¬
demn the works of Cicero to the flames, as they
predisposed the minds of those who read them
for embracing the Christian faith.
By a small hand of holder innovators belong¬
ing to this golden age of Italian literature, the
Aristotelian doctrines were more directly and
powerfully assailed. Laurentius Valla, Marius
Nizolius, and Franciscus Patricius,1 have all of
them transmitted their names to posterity as
philosophical reformers, and, in particular, as
revolters against the authority of the Stagirite.
Of the individuals just mentioned, Nizolius is the
only one who seems entitled to maintain a per¬
manent place in the annals of modern science.
His principal work, entitled Antibarbarusf is
not only a hold invective against the prevailing
ignorance and barbarism of the schools, hut con¬
tains so able an argument against the then fashion¬
able doctrine of the Realists concerning general
ideas, that Leibnitz thought it worth while, a centu¬
ry afterwards, to republish it, with the addition of
a long and valuable preface written by himself.
At the same period with Franciscus Patricius,
flourished another learned Italian, Alhericus
Gentilis, whose writings, seem to have attracted
more notice in England and Germany than in
his own country. His attachment to the reform¬
ed faith having driven him from Italy, he sought
an asylum at Oxford, where, in 1587, he was ap¬
pointed professor of the Civil Law, an office
which he held till the period of his death in
1611.3 He war. the author of a treatise De Jure
Belli, in three hooks, which appeared successively
in 1588 and 1589, and were first published to¬
gether at Hanau in 1598. His name, however,
has already sunk into almost total oblivion; and
I should certainly not have mentioned it on the
present occasion, were it not for his indisputable
merits as the precursor of Grotius, in a depart¬
ment of study which, forty years afterwards,
the celebrated treatise De Jure Belli et Pads was
1 His Discussiones Peripatcticce were printed at Venice in 1571. Another work, entitled Nova de Universis Philosophia, also
printed at Venice, appeared in 1593. I have never happened to meet with either ; but from the account given of the au¬
thor by Thuanus, he does not seem to have attracted that notice from his contemporaries, to which his learning and talents
entitled him.—(Thuan. Hist. Lib. cxix. xvii.). His Discussiones Peripatcticce are mentioned by Brucker in the following
terms:—“ Opus egregium, doctum, varium, luculentum, sed invidia odioque in Aristotelem plenum satis svperque."—(Hist.
Phil. Tom. IV. p. 425). The same very laborious and candid writer acknowledges the assistance he had derived from Pa-
tricins in his account of the Peripatetic philosophy “ In qua tractatione fatemur egregiam enitere Patricii doctrinam, in¬
genii elegantiam prorsus admirabilem, et quod primo loco ponendum est, insolitam veteris philosophise cognitionem, cujus
ope nos Peripateticse disciplinse historise multoties lucem attulisse, grati suis locis profess! sumus.”—Ibid. p. 426.
2 Antibarbarus, sive de Veris Principiis et Vera Hatione Philosophandi contra Pseudo-philosophos. Parmse, 1553. “ Les faux
philosophes,” dit Fontenelle, “ etoient tons les scholastiques passes et presens; et Nizolius s’eleve avec la derniere hardi-
esse centre leurs idees monstrueuses et leur langage barbare. La longue et constante admiration qu’on avoit eu pour Aris-
tote, ne prouvoit, disoit-il, que la multitude des sots et la durde de la sottise.” The merits of this writer are much too
lightly estimated by Brucker—See Hist. Phil. Tom. IV. Pars I. pp. 91. 92.
3 Wood’s Athence Oxonienses, Vol. II. col. 90. Hr Bliss’s edition.
DISS. I. PART I.
D
26
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to raise to so conspicuous a rank among the
branches of academical education. The avowed
aim of this new science, when combined with
the anxiety of Gentilis to counteract the effect
of Machiavel’s Prince, by representing it as a
warning to subjects rather than as a manual of
instruction for their rulers, may he regarded as
satisfactory evidence of the growing influence,
even at that era, of better ethical principles than
those commonly imputed to the Florentine Secre¬
tary. 1
The only other Italian of whom I shall take
notice at present, is Campanella;2 a philoso¬
pher now remembered chiefly in consequence ol
his eccentric character and eventful life, but of
whom Leibnitz has spoken in terms of such
high admiration, as to place him in the same
line with Bacon. After looking into several of
his works with some attention, I must confess
I am at a loss to conceive upon what grounds
the eulogy of Leibnitz proceeds; hut as it is
difficult to suppose, that the praise of this great
man was, in any instance, the result of mere
caprice, I shall put it in the power of my read¬
ers to judge for themselves, by subjoining a
faithful translation of his words. I do this the
more willingly, as the passage itself (whatever
may he thought of the critical judgments pro¬
nounced in it), contains some general remarks
on intellectual character, which are in every re¬
spect worthy of the author.
“ Some men, in conducting operations where
an attention to minutiae is requisite, discover a
mind vigorous, subtile, and versatile, and seem
to he equal to any undertaking, how arduous
soever. But when they are called upon to act
on a greater scale, they hesitate and are lost in
their own meditations ; distrustful of their judg¬
ment, and conscious of their incompetency to
the scene in which they are placed: men, in a
word, possessed of a genius rather acute than
comprehensive. A similar difference may he
traced among authors. What can he more
acute than Descartes in Physics, or than Hobbes
in Morals! And yet, if the one he compa¬
red with Bacon, and the other with Campa¬
nella, the former writers seem to grovel upon
the earth,—the latter to soar to the Heavens, by
the vastness of their conceptions, their plans,
and their enterprises, and to aim at objects be¬
yond the reach of the human powers. The
former, accordingly, are best fitted for deliver¬
ing the first elements of knowledge, the latter
for establishing conclusions of important and
general application.” 5
The annals of France, during this period,
present very scanty materials for the History
of Philosophy. The name of the Chancellor
de I’Hopital, however, must not he passed over
in silence. As an author, he does not rank
high; nor does he seem to have at all valued
himself on the careless effusions of his literary
hours; hut, as an upright and virtuous magis¬
trate, he has left behind him a reputation un¬
rivalled to this day.4 His wise and indulgent
principles on the subject of religious liberty,
and the steadiness with which he adhered to
them, under circumstances of extraordinary dif¬
ficulty and danger, exhibit a splendid contrast
to the cruel intolerance, which, a few years be-
1 The claims of Albericus Gentilis to be regarded as the father of Natural Jurisprudence, are strongly asserted by his
countryman Lampredi, in his very judicious and elegant work, entitled, Juris Publici Theoremata, published at Pisa in
1782. “ Hie primus jus aliquod Belli et esse et tradi posse excogitavit, et Belli et Pacis regulas explanavit primus, et
fortasse in causa fuit cur Grotius opus suum conscribere aggrederetur: dignus sane qui prae ceteris memoretur, Italiae
enim, in qua ortus erat, et unde Juris Romani disciplinam hauserat, gloriam auxit, effecitque ut quae fuerat bonarum arti-
um omnium restitutrix et altrix, eadem esset et prima Jurisprudentiae Naturalis magistra.”
2 Born 1568, died 1639.
s Leibnit. Opera, Vol. VI. p. 303, ed. Dutens—It is probable that, in the above passage, Leibnitz alluded more to the
elevated tone of Campanella’s reasoning on moral and political subjects, when contrasted with that of Hobbes, than to the
intellectual superiority of the former writer above the latter. No philosopher, certainly, has spoken with more reverence
than Campanella has done, on various occasions, of the dignity of human nature. A remarkable instance of this occurs in
his eloquent comparison of the human hand with the organs of touch in other animals. ( Vide Campan. Physiolog. cap. xx.
Art. 2.) Of his Political Aphorisms, which form the third part of his treatise on Morals, a sufficient idea for our purpose
is conveyed by the concluding corollary, “ Probitas custodit regem populosque; non autem indocta Machiavellistarum astu-
tia.” On the other hand, Campanella’s works abound with immoralities and extravagancies far exceeding those of
Hobbes. In his idea of a perfect commonwealth (to which he gives the name of Civitas SolisJ, the impurity of his imagi¬
nation, and the unsoundness of his judgment, are equally conspicuous. He recommends, under certain regulations, a com¬
munity of women; and, in every thing connected with procreation, lays great stress on the opinions of astrologers.
4 Magistral au-dessus de tout eloge; et d’apres lequel on a juge tous ceux qui ont ose s’asseoir sur ce meme tribunal
sans avoir son courage ni ses lumieres.”—Henault, Abrtgc Chronologique.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
27
fore, had disgraced the character of an illustri¬
ous Chancellor of England. The same philo¬
sophical and truly catholic spirit distinguished
his friend, the President de Thou,1 and gives
the principal charm to the justly admired pre¬
face prefixed to his history. In tracing the pro¬
gress of the human mind during the sixteenth
century, such insulated and anomalous examples
of the triumph of reason over superstition and
bigotry, deserve attention, not less than whai
is due, in a history of the experimental arts, to
Friav Bacon’s early anticipation of gunpowder,
and of the telescope.
Contemporary with these great men was Bo-
din (or Bodinus),2 an eminent French lawyer,
who appears to have been one of the first that
united a philosophical turn of thinking with an
extensive knowledge of jurisprudence and of
history. His learning is often ill digested, and
his conclusions still oftener rash and unsound;
yet it is but justice to him to acknowledge, that,
in his views of the philosophy of law, he has
approached very nearly to some leading ideas
of Lord Bacon;5 while, in his refined combina¬
tions of historical facts, he has more than once
struck into a train of speculation, bearing a
strong resemblance to that afterwards pursued
by Montesquieu.4 Of this resemblance, so re¬
markable an instance occurs in his chapter on
the moral effects of Climate, and on the atten¬
tion due to this circumstance by the legislator,
that it has repeatedly subjected the author of
The Spirit of Laws (but in my opinion without
any good reason) to the imputation of plagia¬
rism.5 A resemblance to Montesquieu, still
more honourable to Bodinus, may be traced in
their common attachment to religious as well as
to civil liberty. To have caught, in the six¬
teenth century, somewhat of the philosophical
spirit of the eighteenth, reflects less credit on
the force of his mind, than to have imbibed, in
the midst of the theological controversies of his
age, those lessons of mutual forbearance and
charity, which a long and sad experience of the
fatal effects of persecution has to this day so im¬
perfectly taught to the most enlightened nations
of Europe.
As a specimen of the liberal and moderate
views of this philosophical politician, I shall
quote two short passages from his Treatise De
la llepublique, which seem to me objects of con¬
siderable curiosity, when contrasted with the
general spirit of the age in which they were
written. The first relates to liberty of con¬
science, for which he was a strenuous and in¬
trepid advocate, not only in his publications, but
as a member of the Etats Generaux, assembled
at Blois in 1576. “ The mightier that a man
is (says Bodin), the more justly and temperate¬
ly he ought to behave himself towards all men,
but especially towards his subjects. Wherefore
the senate and people of Basil did wisely, who,
having renounced the Bishop of Rome’s religion,
would not, upon the sudden, thrust the monks
and nuns, with the other religious persons, out
of their abbeys and monasteries, but only took
order, that, as they died they should die both for
themselves and their successors, expressly for¬
bidding any new to be chosen in their places, so
that, by that means, their colleges might, by
1 “ One cannot help admiring,” says Dr Jortin, “ the decent manner in which the illustrious Thuanus hath spoken of
Calvin“ Acri vir ac vehementi ingenio, et admirabili facundia prseditus; turn inter protestantes magni nominis theolo-
gus.”—(Life of Erasmus, p. 555.) The same writer has remarked the great decency and moderation with which Thuanus
speaks of Luther Ibid. p. 113.
2 Born 1530, died 1596.
3 See, in particular, the preface to his book, entitled Methodus ad facilem Historiarum cognitionem.
4 See the work De la llepublique, passim. In this treatise there are two chapters singularly curious, considering the time
when they were written ; the second and third chapters of the sixth book. The first is entitled, Des Finances ; the second,
Le Moyen d'empecher que les Monnoyes soyent alterees de Prix ou falsifiecs. The reasonings of the Author on various points
there treated of, will be apt to excite a smile among those who have studied the Inquiry into the Wealth of Nations; but it
reflects no small credit on a lawyer of the sixteenth century to have subjected such questions to philosophical examination,
and to have formed so just a conception as Bodin appears evidently to have done, not only of the object, but of the im¬
portance of the modern science of political economy.
Thuanus speaks highly of Bodin’s dissertations De Re Monetaria, which I have never seen. The same historian thus ex¬
presses himself with respect to the work De Republica: “ Opus in quo ut omni scientiarum genere non tincti sed imbuti in¬
genii fidem fecit, sic nonnulfis, qui recte judicant, non omnino ab ostentationis innato genii vitio vacuum se probavit—Hist.
Lib. cxvii. ix.
* See Not’e D.
28
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
little and little, by the death of the fellows, he
extinguished. Whereby it came to pass, that all
the rest of the Carthusians, of their own accord,
forsaking their cloisters, yet one of them all
alone for a long time remained therein, quietly
and without any disturbance, holding the light
of his convent, being never enforced to change
either his place, or habit, or old ceremonies, or
religion before by him received. The like order
was taken at Coire in the diet of the Grisons;
wherein it was decreed, that the ministers of
the reformed religion should be maintained of
the profits and revenues of the church, the reli¬
gious men nevertheless still remaining in their
cloisters and convents, to be by their death sup¬
pressed, they being now prohibited to choose any
new instead of them which died. By which
means, they which professed the new religion,
and they who professed the old, were both pro¬
vided for.”1
The aim of the chapter from which I have
extracted the foregoing passage, is to show, that
“ it is a most dangerous thing, at one and the
same time, to change the form, laws, and cus¬
toms of a commonwealth.” The scope of the
author’s reasonings may be judged of from the
concluding paragraph.
“We ought then in the government of a
well-ordered state and commonwealth, to imitate
and follow the great God of Nature, who in all
things proceedeth easily, and by little and little;
who of a little seed causeth to grow a tree for
height and greatness, right admirable, and yet
for all that insensibly; and still by means con¬
joining the extremities of nature, as by putting
the spring between winter and summer, and
autumn betwixt summer and winter, mode¬
rating the extremities of the terms and seasons,
with the self-same wisdom which it useth in all
other things also, and that in such sort, as that
no violent force or course therein appeareth.”2
Notwithstanding these wise and enlightened
maxims, it must be owned, on the other hand,
that Bodin has indulged himself in various spe¬
culations, which would expose a writer of the
present times to the imputation of insanity.
One of the most extraordinary of these, is his
elaborate argument to prove, that, in a well con¬
stituted state, the father should possess the right
of life and death over his children ;—a paradox
which forms an unaccountable contrast to the
general tone of humanity which characterizes his
opinions. Of the extent of his credulity on the
subject of witchcraft, and of the deep horror
with which he regarded those who affected to be
sceptical about the reality of that crime, he has
left a lasting memorial in a learned and curious
volume entitled Demonomanie;3 while the ec-
1 Book iy. chap, iii The-book from which this quotation is taken was published only twenty-three years after the mur-
der of Servetus at Geneva ; an event which leaves so deep a stain on the memory not only of Calvin, but on that of the
milder and more charitable Melanchthon. The epistle of the latter to Bullinger, where he applauds the conduct of the
judges who condemned to the flames this incorrigible heretic, affords the most decisive of all proofs, how remote the senti¬
ments of the most enlightened Fathers of the Reformation were from those Christian and philosophical principles of tole¬
ration, to which their noble exertions have gradually, and now almost universally, led the way..
2 Ibid The substance of the above reflection has been compressed by Bacon into the following well-known aphorisms.
“ Time is the greatest innovator ; shall we then not imitate time ?
“ What innovator imitates time, which innovates so silently as to mock the sense ?”
The resemblance between the two passages is still more striking in the Latin versions of their respective authors.
“ Deum igittir praepotentem naturae parentem imitemur, qui omnia paulatim : namque semina perquam exigua in ar-
bores excelsas excrescere jubet, idque tam occulte ut nemo sentiat.”—Bodinus.
“ Novator maximus tempus ; quidni igitur tempus imitemur ?”
“ Quis novator tempus imitatur, quod novationes ita insinuat, ut sensus fallant ?”—Bacon.
The Treatise of Bodin De la Republique (by far the most important of his works) was first printed at Paris in 1576, and
was reprinted seven times in the space of three years. It was translated into Latin by the author himself, with a view
chiefly (as is said) to the accommodation of the scholars of England, among whom it was so highly esteemed, that lectuies
upon it were given in the University of Cambridge, as early as 1580. In 1579, Bodin visited London in the suite of the
Due d’Alencon ; a circumstance which probably contributed not a little to recommend his writings, so very soon after their
publication, to the attention of our countrymen. In 1606, the treatise of The 'Republic was done into English by Richard
Knolles, who appears to have collated the French and Latin copies so carefully and judiciously, that his version is, in some
respects, superior to either of the originals. It is from this version, accordingly, that I have transcribed the passages above
quoted ; trusting, that it will not be unacceptable to my readers, while looking back to the intellectual attainments of our
forefathers, to have an opportunity, at the same time, of markiirg the progress which had been made in England, more than
two centuries ago, in the arts of writing and of translation.
For Dr Johnson’s opinion of Knolles’s merits as an historian, and as an English writer, see the Rambler, No. 123.
s De la Demonomanie des Sorciers. Par J. Bodin Angevin, a Paris, 1580. This book, which exhibits so melancholy
DISSERTATION FIRST.
29
centricity of his religious tenets was such, as to
incline the candid mind of Grotius to suspect
him of a secret leaning to the Jewish faith.1
In contemplating the characters of the eminent
persons who appeared about this era, nothing is
more interesting and instructive, than to remark
the astonishing combination, in the same minds,
of the highest intellectual endowments, with the
most deplorable aberrations of the understand¬
ing ; and even, in numberless instances, with the
most childish superstitions of the multitude.
Of this apparent inconsistency, Bodinus does
not furnish a solitary example. The same re¬
mark may be extended, in a greater or less de¬
gree, to most of the other celebrated names
hitherto mentioned. Melanchthon, as appears
from his letters, was an interpreter of dreams,
and a caster of nativities;^ and Luther not only
sanctioned, by his authority, the popular fables
about the sexual and prolific intercourse of Satan
with the human race, but seems to have serious¬
ly believed that he had himself frequently seen
the arch enemy face to face, and held arguments
with him on points of theology.5 Nor was the
study of the severer sciences, on all occasions,
an effectual remedy against such illusions of the
imagination. The sagacious Kepler was an as¬
trologer and a visionary ; and his friend Tycho
Brahe, the Prince of Astronomers^ kept an idiot in
his service, to whose prophecies he listened as
revelations from above.K During the long night
of Gothic barbarism, the intellectual world had
again become, like the primitive earth, “ with¬
out form and voidthe light had already ap¬
peared ; “ and God had seen the light that it was
goodbut the time was not yet come to “ di¬
vide it from the darkness.”5
In the midst of the disorders, both political
and moral, of that unfortunate age, it is pleasing
to observe the anticipations of brighter pro¬
spects, in the speculations of a few individuals.
Bodinus himself is one of the number;6 and to
his name may be added that of his countryman
and predecessor Budaeus.7 But, of all the
writers of the sixteenth century, Ludovicus
Yives seems to have had the liveliest and the
a contrast to the mental powers displayed in the treatise Be la Repullique, was dedicated by the author to his friend, the
President de Thou; and it is somewhat amusing to find, that it exposed Bodin himself to the imputation of being a ma¬
gician. For this we have the testimony of the illustrious historian just mentioned.—(Thuanus, Lib. cxvii. ix.)—Nor did it
recommend the author to the good opinion of the Catholic church, having been formally condemned and prohibited by the
Roman Inquisition. The Reflection of the Jesuit Martin del Rio on this occasion is worth transcribing. “ Adeo lubricum
et periculosum de Ms disserere, nisi Deum semper, et catholicam Jidern, eccltsiceque Romano; censuram tanquam cynosuram sequaris."—
Disquisitionum Magicarum, Libri Sex. Auctore Martino del Rio, Societatis Jesu Presbytero. Venit. 1640, p. 8.
1 Epist. ad Cordesium (quoted by Bayle.)
2 Jortin’s Life of Erasmus, p. 156.
3 See Note E.
4 See the Life of Tycho Brahe, by Gassendi.
5 I have allotted to Bodin a larger space than may seem due to his literary importance; but the truth is, I know of no
political writer, of the same date, whose extensive and various and discriminating reading appears to me to have contri¬
buted more to facilitate and to guide the researches of his successors, or whose references to ancient learning have been
more frequently transcribed without acknowledgment. Of late his works have fallen into very general neglect; otherwise
it is impossible that so many gross mistakes should be current about the scope and spirit of his principles. By many he
has been mentioned as a zealot for republican forms of government, probably for no better reason than that he chose to call
his book a Treatise De Republica; whereas, in point of fact, he is uniformly a warm and able advocate for monarchy; and,
although no friend to tyranny, has, on more than one occasion, carried his monarchical principles to a very blameable ex¬
cess—(See, in particular, chapters fourth and fifth of the Sixth Book.) On the other hand, Grouvelle, a writer of some
note, has classed Bodin with Aristotle, as an advocate for domestic slavery. “ The reasonings of both,” he says, “ are re¬
futed by Montesquieu.” (Be I'Autorite, de Montesquieu dans la Revolution presente. Paris, 1789.). Whoever has the
curiosity to compare Bodin and Montesquieu together, will be satisfied, that, on this point, their sentiments were exactly
the same; and that, so far from refuting Bodin, Montesquieu has borrowed from him more than one argument in support
of his general conclusion.
The merits of Bodin have been, on the whole, very fairly estimated by Bayle, who pronounces him “ one of the ablest
men that appeared in France during the sixteenth century.” “ Si nous voulons disputer a Jean Bodin la qualite d ecrivain
e'xact et judicieux, laissons lui sans controverse, un grand genie, un vaste savoir* une memoire et une lecture prodigieuses.
6 See, in particular, his Method of Studying History, chap. vii. entitled Confutatio eorum qui quatuor Monarchies Aureaquc
Sacula statue runt. In this chapter, after enumerating some of the most important discoveries and inventions of the moderns,
he concludes with mentioning the art of printing, of the value of which he seems to have formed a very just estimate.
“ Una Typographia cum omnibus veterum inventis certare facile potest. Itaque non minus peccant, qui a veteribus
aiunt omnia comprehensa, quam qui illos de veteri multarum artium possessione deturbant. Habet Natura. scientiarum
thesauros innumerabiles, qui nullis setatibus exhauriri possunt.” In the same chapter Bodinus expresses himself thus:
“ jEtas ilia quam auream vocant, si ad nostram conferatur, ftrrea videri possit.”
f The works of Budseus were printed at Basle, in four volumes folio, 1557- My acquaintance^ with them is much too
slight to enable me to speak of them from my own judgment. No scholar certainly stood higher in the estimation of his
age. “ Quo viro,” says Ludovicus Vives, “ Gallia acutiore ingenio, acriore judicio, exactiore diligentia, majore erudi-
tione nullum unquam produxit; hac vero setate nec Italia quidem.” The praise bestowed on him by other contemporary
writers of the highest eminence is equally lavish.
30
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
most assured foresight of the new career on
which the human mind was about to enter.
The following passage from one of his works
would have done no discredit to the Novum Or¬
ganon :—“ The similitude which many have
fancied between the superiority of the moderns
to the ancients, and the elevation of a dwarf on
the back of a giant, is altogether false and puerile.
Neither were they giants, nor are we dwarfs, but
all of us men of the same standard,—and we the
taller of the two, by adding their height to our
own : Provided always that we do not yield to
them in study, attention, vigilance, and love of
truth; for, if these qualities be wanting, so far
from mounting on the giant’s shoulders, we throw
away the advantages of our own just stature, by
remaining prostrate on the ground.”1
I pass over, without any particular notice, the
names of some French logicians who flourished
about this period, because, however celebrated
among their contemporaries, they do not seem
to form essential links in the History of Science.
The bold and persevering spirit with which Ra¬
mus disputed, in the University of Paris, the
authority of Aristotle, and the persecutions he
incurred by this philosophical heresy, entitle
him to an honourable distinction from the rest
of his brethren. He was certainly a man of un¬
common acuteness as well as eloquence, and
placed in a very strong light some of the most
vulnerable parts of the Aristotelian logic; with¬
out, however, exhibiting any marks of that deep
sagacity which afterwards enabled Bacon, Des¬
cartes, and Locke, to strike at the very roots
of the system. His copious and not inelegant
style as a writer, recommended his innovations
to those who were disgusted with the barbarism
of the schools;2 while his avowed partiality for
the reformed faith (to which he fell a martyr in
the massacre of Paris), procured many prose¬
lytes to his opinions in all the Protestant coun¬
tries of Europe. In England his logic had the
honour, in an age of comparative light and re¬
finement, to find an expounder and methodise!*
in the author of Paradise Lost; and in some of
our northern universities, where it was very
early introduced, it maintained its ground till it
was supplanted by the logic of Locke.
It has been justly said of Ramus, that, “ al¬
though he had genius sufficient to shake the
Aristotelian fabric, he was unable to substitute
any thing more solid in its placebut it ought
not to be forgotten, that even this praise, scanty
as it may now appear, involves a large tribute
to his merits as a philosophical reformer. Be¬
fore human reason was able to advance, it was
necessary that it should first be released from
the weight of its fetters.3
1 Vives de Cans. Corrupt. Artium, Lib. i. Similar ideas occur in the works of Roger Bacon : “ Quanto juniores tanto
perspicaciores, quia juniores posteriores successione temporum ingrediuntur labores priorum.”—(Opus Majus, edit. Jebb.
p. 9.) Nor were they altogether overlooked by ancient writers. “ Veniet tempus, quo ista quae latent nunc in lucem
dies extrahet, et longioris aevi diligentia. Yeniet tempus, quo posteri nostri tam aperta nos ignorasse mirabuntur.”
(Seneca, Qucest. Nat. Lib. vii. c. 25.) This language coincides exactly with that of the Chancellor Bacon ; but it was re¬
served for the latter to illustrate the connection between the progress of human knowledge, and of human happiness ; or (to
borrow his own phraseology) the connection between the progress of knowledge, and the enlargement of man’s power over
the destiny of his own species. Among other passages to this purpose, See Nov. Org. Lib. i. cxxix.
2 To the accomplishments of Ramus as a writer, a very flattering testimony is given by an eminent English scholar, by
no means disposed to overrate his merits as a logician. “ Pulsa tandem barbarie, Petrus Ramus politioris literaturae yir,
ausus est Aristotelem acrius ubique et liberius incessere, universamque Peripateticam philosophiam exagitare. Ejus
Dialetica exiguo tempore fuit apud plurimos summo in pretio, maxime eloquentiae studiosos, idque idio scholasticorum,
quorum dictio et stylus ingrata fuerant auribus Ciceronianis.”—Logicce Artis Compendium, Auctore R. Sanderson, Episc.
Lincoln, pp. 250. 251. Edit. Decima. Oxon. The first edition was printed in 1618.
3 Dr Barrow, in one of his mathematical lectures, speaks of Ramus in terms far too contemptuous. “ Homo, ne quid
gravius dicam, argutulus et dicaculus."—“ Sane vix indignation) mese tempero, quin ilium accipiam pro suo merito, regeram-
que validius in ejus caput, quae contra veteres jactat convicia.” Had Barrow confined this censure to the weak and arro¬
gant attacks made by Ramus upon Euclid (particularly upon Euclid’s definition of Proportion), it would not have been
more than Ramus deserved ; but it is evident he meant to extend it also to the more powerful attacks of the same reformer
upon the logic of Aristotle. Of these there are many which may be read with profit even in the present times. I select
one passage as a specimen, recommending it strongly to the consideration of those logicians who have lately stood forward
as advocates for Aristotle’s abecedarian demonstrations of the syllogistic rules. “ In Aristotelis arte, unius prsecepti uni-
cum exemplum est, ac SBepissime nullum : sed unico et singular! exemplo non potest artifex effici; pluribus opus est et
dissimilibus. Et quidem, ut Aristotelis exempla tantummodo non falsa sint, qualia tamen sunt ? Omne b est a : omne cest
b : ergo omne c est a. Exemplum Aristotelis est puero a grammaticis et oratoribus venienti, et istam mutorum Mathema-
ticorum linguam ignoranti, novum et durum: et in totis Analyticis ista non Attica, non lonica, non Dorica, non iEolica,
non communi, sed geometrica lingua usus est Aristoteles, odiosa pueris, ignota populo, a communi sensu remota, a rhetoric*1
usu et ab humanitatis usu alienissima.”—(P. Rami pro Philosophica Parisiensis Academice Discipltna Oratio, 1550). If these
strictures should be thought too loose and declamatory, the reader may consult the fourth chapter (De Conversionibus) of the
seventh book of Ramus’s Dialectics, where the same charge is urged, in my opinion, with irresistible force of argument.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
31
It is observed with great truth, hy Condorcet,
that, in the times of which we are now speak¬
ing, “ the science of political economy did not
exist. Princes estimated not the number of
men, hut of soldiers in the state ;—finance was
merely the art of plundering the people, with¬
out driving them to the desperation that might
end in revolt;—and governments paid no other
attention to commerce hut that of loading it
with taxes, of restricting it hy privileges, or of
disputing for its monopoly.”
The internal disorders then agitating the
whole of Christendom, were still less favourable
to the growth of this science, considered as a
branch of speculative study. Religious con¬
troversies everywhere divided the opinions of
the multitude;—involving those collateral dis¬
cussions concerning the liberty of conscience,
and the relative claims of sovereigns and sub¬
jects, which, by threatening to resolve society
into its first elements, present to restless and
aspiring spirits the most inviting of all fields for
enterprise and ambition. Amidst the shock of
such discussions, the calm inquiries which medi¬
tate in silence the slow and gradual amelioration
of the social order, were not likely to possess
strong attractions, even to men of the most
sanguine benevolence; and, accordingly, the po¬
litical speculations of this period turn almost en¬
tirely on the comparative advantages and disad¬
vantages of different forms of government, or
on the still more alarming questions concerning
the limits of allegiance and the right of resist¬
ance.
The dialogue of our illustrious countryman
Buchanan, De Jure llegni apud Scotos, though
occasionally disfigured by the keen and indig¬
nant temper of the writer, and by a predilection
(pardonable in a scholar warm from the schools
of ancient Greece and Rome) for forms of policy
unsuitable to the circumstances of modern
Europe, bears, nevertheless, in its general spirit,
a closer resemblance to the political philosophy
of the eighteenth century, than any composition
which had previously appeared. The ethical
paradoxes afterwards inculcated by Hobbes as
the ground-work of his slavish theory of govern¬
ment, are anticipated and refuted, and a power¬
ful argument is urged against that doctrine of
Utility which has attracted so much notice in
our times. The political reflections, too, inci¬
dentally introduced by the same author in his
History of Scotland, bear marks of a mind
worthy of a better age than fell to his lot. Of
this kind ffre the remarks with which he closes
his narrative of the wanton cruelties exercised
in punishing the murderers of James the First.
In reading them, one would almost imagine, that
one is listening to the voice of Beccaria or of
Montesquieu. “ After this manner,” says the
historian, “ was the cruel death of James still
more cruelly avenged. For punishments so far
exceeding the measure of humanity, have less
effect in deterring the multitude from crimes,
than in rousing them to greater efforts, both as
actors and as sufferers. Nor do they tend so
much to intimidate by their severity, as by their
frequency to diminish the terrors of the specta¬
tors. The evil is more peculiarly great, when
the mind of the criminal is hardened against the
sense of pain; for in the judgment of the un¬
thinking vulgar, a stubborn confidence generally
obtains the praise of heroic constancy.”
After the publication of this great work, the
name of Scotland, so early distinguished over
Europe by the learning and by the fervid genius1
of her sons, disappears for more than a century
and a half from the History of Letters. But
from this subject, so pregnant with melancholy
and humiliating recollections, our attention is
forcibly drawn to a mighty and auspicious light
which, in a more fortunate part of the island,
was already beginning to rise on the philosophi¬
cal world.2
1 Praefervidum Scotorum ingenium.
. 2 That, at the end of the sixteenth century, the Scottish nation were advancing not less rapidly than their neighbours,
in every species of mental cultivation, is sufficiently attested by their literary remains, both in the Latin language and in
their own vernacular tongue. A remarkable testimony to the same purpose occurs in the dialogue above quoted, the author
of which had spent the best years of his life in the most polished society of the Continent. “ As often,” says Buchanan,
“ as I turn my eyes to the niceness and elegance of our own times, the ancient manners of our forefathers appear sober and
venerable, but withal rough and horrid.” “ Quoties oculos ad nostri temporis munditias et elegantiam refero, antiquitas ilia
sancta et sobria, sed horrida tamen, et nondum satis expolita fuisse videtur.”—(De Jure, Regni apud Scotos.) One would think,
that he conceived the taste of his countrymen to have then arrived at the ne plus ultra of national refinement,
Aurea nunc, olim sylvestribus horrida dumis.
32
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
CHAPTER II.
FROM THE PUBLICATION OF BACON’S PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS, TILL THAT OF THE ESSAY
ON HUMAN UNDERSTANDING.
SECTION I.
Progress of Philosophy in England during this period.
BACON.*
The state of science towards tlie close of tlie
sixteenth century, presented a field of observa¬
tion singularly calculated to attract the curio¬
sity, and to awaken the genius of Bacon; nor
was it the least of his personal advantages, that,
as the son of one of Queen Elizabeth’s ministers,
he had a ready access, wherever he went, to the
most enlightened society in Europe. While yet
only in the seventeenth year of his age, he was
removed by his father from Cambridge to Paris,
where it is not to be doubted, that the novelty
of the literary scene must have largely contri¬
buted to cherish the natural liberality and inde¬
pendence of his mind. Sir Joshua Reynolds
has remarked, in one of his academical Dis¬
courses, that “ every seminary of learning is
surrounded with an atmosphere of floating
knowledge, where every mind may imbibe some¬
what congenial to its own original concep¬
tions.” * He might have added, with still great¬
er truth, that it is an atmosphere, of which it is
more peculiarly salutary for those who have
been elsewhere reared to breathe the air. The
remark is applicable to higher pursuits than
were in the contemplation of this philosophical
artist; and it suggests a hint of no inconsider¬
able value for the education of youth.
The merits of Bacon, as the father of Experi¬
mental Philosophy, are so universally acknow¬
ledged, that it would be superfluous to touch
upon them here. The lights which he has struck
out in various branches of the Philosophy of
Mind, have been much less attended to; al¬
though the whole scope and tenor of his specu¬
lations show, that to this study his genius was
far more strongly and happily turned, than to
that of the Material World. It was not, as some
seem to have imagined, by sagacious anticipa¬
tions of particular discoveries afterwards to be
made in physics, that his writings have had so
powerful an influence in accelerating the ad¬
vancement of that science. In the extent and
accuracy of his physical knowledge, he was far
inferior to many of his predecessors; but he
surpassed them all in his knowledge of the laws,
the resources, and the limits of the human un¬
derstanding. The sanguine expectations with
which he looked forwards to the future, were
founded solely on his confidence in the untried
capacities of the mind, and on a conviction of
the possibility of invigorating and guiding, by
means of logical rules, those faculties which, in
all our researches after truth, are the organs or
instruments to be employed. “ Such rules,” as
he himself has observed, “ do in some sort equal
men’s wits, and leave no great advantage or pre¬
eminence to the perfect and excellent motions
of the spirit. To draw a straight line, or to de¬
scribe a circle, by aim of hand only, there must
be a great difference between an unsteady and
unpractised hand, and a steady and practised;
but to do it by rule or compass it is much alike.”
1 Born 1561, died 1626.
2 Discourse delivered at the opening of the Royal Academy, January 2, 1769.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
33
Nor is it merely as a logician that Bacon is
entitled to notice on the present occasion. It
would be difficult to name another writer prior
to Locke, whose works are enriched with so
many just observations on the intellectual phe¬
nomena. Among these, the most valuable re¬
late to the laws of Memory, and of Imagination;
the latter of which subjects he seems to have
studied with peculiar care. In one short hut
beautiful paragraph concerning Poetry (under
which title may be comprehended all the vari¬
ous creations of this faculty), he has exhausted
every thing that philosophy and good sense have
yet had to offer, on what has been since called
the Beau Ideal; a topic, which has furnished
occasion to so many over-refinements among
the French critics, and to so much extravagance
and mysticism in the cloud-clapt metaphysics of
the new German school.1 In considering ima¬
gination as connected with the nervous system,
more particularly as connected with that species
of sympathy to which medical writers have
given the name of imitation, he has suggested
some very important hints which none of his
successors haAre hitherto prosecuted; and has,
at the same time, left an example of cautious
inquiry, worthy to be studied by all who may
attempt to investigate the laws regulating the
union between Mind and Body.* His illustra¬
tion of the different classes of prejudices inci¬
dent to human nature, is, in point of practical
utility, at least equal to any thing on that head
to be found in Locke, of whom it is impossible
to forbear remarking, as a circumstance not
easily explicable, that he should have resumed
this important discussion, without once mention¬
ing the name of his great predecessor. The
chief improvement made by Locke, in the far¬
ther prosecution of the argument, is the appli¬
cation of Hobbes’s theory of association, to ex¬
plain in what manner these prejudices are ori¬
ginally generated.
In Bacon’s scattered hints on topics connected
with the Philosophy of the Mind, strictly so
called, nothing is more remarkable than the pre¬
cise and just ideas they display of the proper
aim of this science. He had manifestly re¬
flected much and successfully on the operations
of his own understanding, and had studied with
uncommon sagsicity the intellectual characters
of others. Of his reflections and observations
on both subjects, he has recorded many im¬
portant results, and has in general stated them
without the slightest reference to any physiolo¬
gical theory concerning their causes, or to any
analogical explanations founded on the caprices
of metaphorical language. If, on some occasions,
he assumes the existence of animal spirits, as the
medium of communication between Soul and
Body, it must be remembered, that this was
then the universal belief of the learned; and that
it was at a much later period not less confidently
avowed by Locke. Nor ought it to be over¬
looked (I mention it to thecredit of both authors),
1 “ Cum mundus sensibilis sit anima rational! dignitate inferior, videtur Poiisis haec humanse naturre largiri quse historia
denegat; atque animo umbris rerum utcunque satisfacere, cum solida haberi non possint. Si quis enim rem acuthis in-
trospiciat, firmum ex Paid sumitur argumentum, magnitudinem rerum magis illustrem, ordinem magis perfectum, et va-
rietatem magis pulchram, animte humanae complacere, quam in natura ipsa, post lapsum, reperiri ullo modo possit. Qua-
propter, cum res gestae et eventus, qui verae historiae subjiciuntur, non sint ejus amplitudinis, in qua anima humana sibi
satisfaciat, praesto est Pol!sis, quae facta magis heroica confingat. Cum historia vera successus rerum, minime pro meritis
virtutum et scelerum narret, corrigit earn Poesis, et exitus, et fortunas, secundum merita, et ex lege Nemeseos, exhibet.
Cum historia vera obvia rerum satietate et similitudine, animae humanae fastidio sit reficit earn PoUsis, inexpectata, et
varia, et vicissitudinum plena canens. Adeo ut PoUsis ista non solum ad delectationem, sed ad animi magnitudinem, et ad
mores conferat.”—(De Aug. Scient. Lib. ii. cap. xiii.)
2 To this branch of the philosophy of mind, Bacon gives the title of Doctrina de fcedere, sive de communi vinculo anima: ct
corporis.—(De Aug. Scient. Lib. iv. cap. i.) Under this article, he mentions, among other desiderata, an inquiry (which he
recommends to physicians) concerning the influence of imagination over the body. His own words are very remarkable ;
more particularly, the clause in which he remarks the effect of fixing and concentrating the attention, in giving to. ideal
objects the power of realities over the belief. “ Ad aliud quippiam, quod hue pertinet, parce admodum, nec pro rei sub-
tilitate, vel utilitate, inquisitum est; quatenus scilieet ipsa xmaginatio animae vel cogitatio perquam Jixa, et veluti in fidem
quondam cxaltata, valeat ad immutandum corpus imaginantis.”—(Ibid.) He suggests also, as a curious problem, to ascer¬
tain how far it is possible to fortify and exalt the imagination ; and by what means this may most effectually be done.
The class of facts here alluded to, are manifestly of the same description with those to .which the attention of philosophers
has been lately called by the pretensions of Mesmer and of Perkins: “ Atque huic conjuncta est disquisitio, quomodo ima-
ginatio intend! et fortificari possit ? Quippe, si imaginatio fortis tantarum sit yirium, operae pretium fuerit nosse, quibus
modis earn exaltari, et se ipsa majorem fieri detur ? Atque hie oblique, nec minus periculose se insinuat palliatio qusedam.
et defensio maxima; partis Magicc Ceremonialis," &e. &c.—Dc Aug. Scient. Lib. iv. cap. iii.
D1SS. I. PART I. £
34
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
that in such instances the fact is commonly so
stated, as to render it easy for the reader to de¬
tach it from the theory. As to the scholastic
questions concerning the nature and essence of
mind,—whether it be extended or unextended ?
whether it have any relation to space or to time ?
or whether (as was contended by others) it exist
in every uhi^ but in no place ?—Bacon has uni¬
formly passed them over with silent contempt;
and has probably contributed not less effectually
to bring them into general discredit, by this in¬
direct intimation of his own opinion, than if he
had descended to the ungrateful task of exposing
their absurdity.1
While Bacon, however, so cautiously avoids
these unprofitable discussions about the nature
of Mind, he decidedly states his conviction, that
the faculties of Man differ not merely in degree,
but in kind, from the instincts of the brutes.
“ I do not, therefore,” he observes on one oc¬
casion, “ approve of that confused and promiscu¬
ous method in which philosophers are accustomed
to treat of pneumatology; as if the human Soul
ranked above those of brutes, merely like the
sun above the stars, or like gold above other
metals.”
Among the various topics started by Bacon
for the consideration of future logicians, he did
not overlook (what may be justly regarded, in
a practical view, as the most interesting of ail
logical problems) the question concerning the
mutual influence of Thought and of Language
on each other. “ Men believe,” says he, “ that
their reason governs their words; but it often
happens, that words have power enough to re¬
act upon reason.” This aphorism may be con¬
sidered as the text of by far the most valuable
part of Locke’s Essay,—that which relates to
the imperfections and abuse of words; but it
was not until within the last twenty years that
its depth and importance were perceived in all
their extent. I need scarcely say, that I allude
to the excellent Memoirs of M. Prevost and of
M. Degerando, on “ Signs considered in their
connection with the Intellectual Operations.”
The anticipations formed by Bacon, of that branch
of modern logic which relates to Universal Gram¬
mar, do no less honour to his sagacity. t( Gram¬
mar,” he observes, “ is of two kinds, the one lite¬
rary, the other philosophical. The former has
for its object to trace the analogies running
through the structure of a particular tongue, so
as to facilitate its acquisition to a foreigner, or to
enable him to speak it with correctness and purity.
The latter directs the attention, notto the analogies
which words bear to words, but the analogies
which words bear to things;”2 or, as he after¬
wards explains himself more clearly, “ to lan¬
guage considered as the sensible portraiture or
image of the mental process.” In farther illus¬
tration of these hints, he takes notice of the lights
which the different genius of different languages
reflect on the characters and habits of those by
whom they were respectively spoken. “ Thus,”
says he, “ it is easy to perceive, that the
Greeks were addicted to the culture of the arts,
the Romans engrossed with the conduct of af¬
fairs ; inasmuch as the technical distinctions
introduced in the progress of refinement require
the aid of compounded words; while the real
business of life stands in no need of so artificial
a phraseology.” 3 Ideas of this sort have, in the
course of a very few years, already become com¬
mon, and almost tritical; but how different was
the case two centuries ago !
With these sound and enlarged views con¬
cerning the philosophy of the Mind, it will not
appear surprising to those who have attended to
the slow and irregular advances of human reason,
that Bacon should occasionally blend incidental
1 Notwithstanding the extravagance of Spinoza’s own philosophical creed, he is one of the very few among Bacon’s
successors, who seem to have been fully aware of the justness, importance, and originality of the method pointed out in
the Novum Organon for the study of the Mind. “ Ad hsec intelligenda, non est opus naturam mentis cognoscere, sed suf-
ficit, mentis sive perceptionum historiolam concinnare modo illo quo VEROLAMius.docet.”—Spin. Epist. 42.
In order to comprehend the whole merit of this remark, it is necessary to know that, according to the Cartesian phrase¬
ology, which is here adopted by Spinoza, the word perception is a general term, equally applicable to all the intellectual
operations. The words of Descartes himself are these : “ Omnes modi cogitandi, quos in nobis experimur, ad duos gene-
rales referri possunt: quorum unus est, perception sive operatic intellectus; alius vero, volitio, sive operatic voluntatis.
Nam sentiri, imaginari, et pure intelligere, sunt tantum diversi modi percipiendi; ut et cupere, aversari, affirmare, negare,
dubitare, sunt diversi modi volendi.” Princip. Phil. Pars I. § 32.
2 De Aug. Scient. Lib. vi. can. i.
» Hid.
0
DISSERTATION FIRST.
35
remarks, savouring of the habits of thinking
prevalent in his time. A curious example of
this occurs in the same chapter which contains
his excellent definition or description of uni¬
versal grammar. “ This too,” he observes, “ is
worthy of notice, that the ancient languages
were full of declensions, of cases, of conjugations,
of tenses, and of other similar inflections; while
the modern, almost entirely destitute of these,
indolently accomplish the same purpose by the
help of prepositions, and of auxiliary verbs.
Whence,” he continues, “ may be inferred,
(however we may flatter ourselves with the idea
of our own superiority), that the human intellect
was much more acute and subtile in ancient, than
it now is in modern times.”1 How very un¬
like is this last reflection to the usual strain of
Bacon’s writings ! It seems, indeed, much more
congenial to the philosophy of Mr Harris and of
Lord Monhoddo; and it has accordingly been
sanctioned with the approbation of both these
learned authors. If my memory does not deceive
me, it is the only passage in Bacon’s works,
which Lord Monhoddo has anywhere conde¬
scended to quote.
These observations afford me a convenient
opportunity for remarking the progress and dif¬
fusion of the philosophical spirit, since the begin¬
ning of the seventeenth century. In the short
passage just cited from Bacon, there are involv¬
ed no less than two capital errors, which are
now almost universally ranked, by men of edu¬
cation, among the grossest prejudices of the
multitude. The one, that the declensions and
conjugations of the ancient languages, and the
modern substitution in their place of preposi¬
tions and auxiliary verbs, are, both of them, the
deliberate and systematical contrivances of spe¬
culative grammarians; the other (still less ana¬
logous to Bacon’s general style of reasoning),
that the faculties of man have declined, as the
world has grown older. Both of these errors
may be now said to have disappeared entirely.
The latter, more particularly, must, to the ris-
ing generation, seem so absurd, that it almost
requires an apology to have mentioned it. That
the capacities of the human mind have been in
all ages the same; and that the diversity of
phenomena exhibited by our species, is the re¬
sult merely of the different circumstances in
which men are placed, has been long receiv¬
ed as an incontrovertible logical maxim; or ra¬
ther, such is the influence of early instruction,
that we are apt to regard it as one of the most
obvious suggestions of common sense. And
yet, till about the time of Montesquieu, it was
by no means so generally recognised by the
learned, as to have a sensible influence on the
fashionable tone of thinking over Europe. The
application of this fundamental and leading idea
to the natural or theoretical history of society in
all its various aspects;—to the history of lan¬
guages, of the arts, of the sciences, of laws, of
government, of manners, and of religion,—is
the peculiar glory of the latter half of the eigh¬
teenth century, and forms a characteristical
feature in its philosophy, which even the ima¬
gination of Bacon was unable to foresee.
It would he endless to particularize the ori¬
ginal suggestions thrown out by Bacon on topics
connected with the science of Mind. The few
passages of this sort already quoted, are produ¬
ced merely as a specimen of the rest. They are
by no means selected as the most important in
his writings ; hut as they happened to be those
which had left the strongest impression on my
memory, I thought them as likely as any other,
to invite the curiosity of my readers to a careful
examination of the rich mine from which they
are extracted.
The Ethical disquisitions of Bacon are almost
entirely of a practical nature. Of the two theo¬
retical questions so much agitated, in both parts
of this island, during the eighteenth century,
concerning the principle and the object of moral
approbation, he has said nothing; but he has
opened some new and interesting views with re¬
spect to the influence of custom and the forma¬
tion of habits ;—a most important article of mo¬
ral philosophy, on which he has enlarged more
ably and more usefully than any writer since
Aristotle.® Under the same head of Ethics may
1 Be Aug. Scient. Lib. vi. cap. i.
Be Aug. Scient. Lib. vii. cap. iii.
36
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
be mentioned tbe small volume to which he has
given the title of Essays ; the best known and
the most popular of all his works. It is also
one of those where the Superiority of his genius
appears to the greatest advantage ; the novelty
and depth of his reflections often receiving a
strong relief from the triteness of his subject.
It may he read from beginning to end in a few
hours,—and yet, after the twentieth perusal,
one seldom fails to remark in it something over¬
looked before. This, indeed, is a characteristic
of all Bacon’s writings, and is only to he ac¬
counted for by the inexhaustible aliment they
furnish to our own thoughts, and the sympa¬
thetic activity they impart to our torpid faculties.
The suggestions of Bacon for the improve¬
ment of Political Philosophy, exhibit as strong
a contrast to the narrow systems of contempo¬
rary statesmen, as the Inductive Logic to that
of the Schools. How profound and comprehen¬
sive are the views opened in the following pas¬
sages, when compared' with the scope of the cele¬
brated treatise Z)e Jure Eelli et Pacts; a work
which was first published about a year before
Bacon’s death, and which continued, for a hun¬
dred and fifty years afterwards, to be regarded
in all the Protestant universities of Europe as
an inexhaustible treasure ot moral and jurispru¬
dential wisdom !
“ The ultimate object which legislators ought
to have in view, and to which all their enact¬
ments and sanctions ought to be subservient, is,
that the citizens may live happily. For this pur¬
pose, it is necessary that they should receive a
religious and pious education; that they should
be trained to good morals; that they should be
secured from foreign enemies by proper mili¬
tary arrangements ; that they should be guard¬
ed by an effectual police against seditions and
private injuries; that they should be loyal to
government, and obedient to magistrates; and,
finally, that they should abound in wealth, and
in other national resources.”1—“ The science
of such matters certainly belongs more parti¬
cularly to the province of men who, by habits
of public business, have been led to take a com¬
prehensive survey of the social order; of the in¬
terests of the community at large; of the rules
of natural equity; of the manners of nations;
of the different forms of government; and who
are thus prepared to reason concerning the wis¬
dom of laws, both from considerations of jus¬
tice and of policy. The great desideratum,
accordingly, is, by investigating the principles
of natural justice, and those of political expedi¬
ency, to exhibit a theoretical model of legisla¬
tion, which, while it serves as a standard for
estimating the comparative excellence of muni-
cipal codes, may suggest hints for their correc¬
tion and improvement, to such as have at heart
the welfare of mankind.”2
How precise the notion was that Bacon had
formed of a philosophical system of jurispru¬
dence (with which as a standard the municipal
laws of different nations might be compared),
appears from a remarkable expression, in which
he mentions it as the proper business of those
who might attempt to carry his plan into execu¬
tion, to investigate those “ leges legum, ex
quibus informatio peti possit, quid in singulis
legibus bene aut perperam positum aut consti-
tutum sit.”3 I do not know if, in Bacon’s
1 Exemplum Tractatus de Fontibus Juris, Aphor. 5. Tliis enumeration of the different objects of law approaches very
nearly to Mr Smith’s ideas on the same subject, as expressed by liimself in the concluding sentence of his Theory of Moral
Sentiments. “ In another Discourse, I shall endeavour to give an account of the general principles of law and govern¬
ment, and of the different revolutions they have undergone in the different ages and periods of society; not only in what
concerns justice, but in what concerns police, revenue, and arms, and whatever else is the object of law.”
2 De Aug. Sclent. Lib. viii. cap. iii.
3 De Fontibus Juris, Aphor. 6.
From the preface to a small tract of Bacon’s entitled, The Elements of the Common Lams of England, written while he was
Solicitor-General to Queen Elizabeth, we learn, that the phrase legum leges had been previously used by some “ great
Civilian.” To what Civilian Bacon here alludes, I know not; but, whoever he was, I doubt much if he annexed to it the
comprehensive and philosophical meaning so precisely explained in the above definition. Bacon himself, when he wrote
his Tract on the Common Laws, does not seem to have yet risen to this vantage-ground of Universal Jurisprudence. His
great object (he tells us) was “ to collect the rules and grounds dispersed throughout the body of the same laws, in order
to see more profoundly into the reason of such judgments and ruled cases, and thereby to make more use of them for the
decision of other cases more doubtful; so that the uncertainty of law, which is the principal and most just challenge that is
made to the laws of our nation at this time, will, by this new strength laid to the foundation, be somewhat the more settled
and corrected.” In this passage, no reference whatever is made to the Universal Justice spoken of in the aphorisms De
Fontibus Juris ; but merely to the leading and governing rules which give to a municipal system whatever it possesses of
DISSERTATION FIRST.
37
prophetic anticipations of the future progress of
Physics, there he any thing more characteristi-
cal, both of the grandeur and of the justness of
his conceptions, than this short definition; more
particularly, when we consider how widely Gro-
tius, in a work professedly devoted to this very
inquiry, was soon after to wander from the
right path, in consequence of his vague and
wavering idea of the aim of his researches.
The sagacity, however, displayed in these, and
various other passages of a similar import, can
by no means be duly appreciated, without at¬
tending, at the same time, to the cautious and
temperate maxims so frequently inculcated by
the author, on the subject of political innova¬
tion. “ A stubborn retention of customs is a
turbulent thing, not less than the introduction
of new.”—“ Time is the greatest innovator;
shall we then not imitate time, which innovates
so silently as to mock the sense ?” Nearly con¬
nected with these aphorisms, are the profound
reflections in the first book De Augmentis Scien-
tiarum, on the necessity of accommodating every
new institution to the character and circum¬
stances of the people for whom it is intended;
and on the peculiar danger which literary men
run of overlooking this consideration, from the
familiar acquaintance they acquire, in the course
of their early studies, with the ideas and senti¬
ments of the ancient classics.
The remark of Bacon on the systematical
policy of Henry VII. was manifestly suggested
by the same train of thinking. “ His laws
(whoso marks them well) were deep and not
vulgar; not made on the spur of a particular
occasion for the present, but out of providence
for the future; to make the estate of his people
still more and more happy, after the manner of
the legislators in ancient and heroic times.”
How far this noble eulogy was merited, either
by the legislators of antiquity, or by the modern
Prince on whom Bacon has bestowed it, is a
question of little moment. I quote it merely on
account of the important philosophical distinc¬
tion which it indirectly marks, between <c deep
analogy and consistency. To these rules Bacon gives the til
casion, differs from that in which he afterwards employed it,
differ from the principles of universal grammar.
and vulgar laws;” the former invariably aiming
to accomplish their end, not by giving any sud¬
den shock to the feelings and interests of the
existing generation, but by allowing to natural
causes time and opportunity to operate; and
by removing those artificial obstacles which
check the progressive tendencies of society. It
is probable, that, on this occasion, Bacon had
an eye more particularly to the memorable sta¬
tute of alienation; to the effects of which (what¬
ever were the motives of its author) the above
description certainly applies in an eminent de¬
gree.
After all, however, it must be acknowledged,
that it is rather in his general views and maxims,
than in the details of his political theories, that
Bacon’s sagacity appears to advantage. His
notions with respect to commercial policy seem
to have been more peculiarly erroneous; origi¬
nating in an overweening opinion of the efficacy
of law, in matters where natural causes ought
to be allowed a free operation. It is observed
by Mr Hume, that the statutes of Henry VII. re¬
lating to the police of his kingdom, are generally
contrived with more judgment than his com¬
mercial regulations. The same writer adds, that
“ the more simple ideas of order and equity are
sufficient to guide a legislator in every thing that
regards the internal administration of justice;
but that the principles of commerce are much
more complicated, and require long experience
and deep reflection to be well understood in any
state. The real consequence is there often con¬
trary to first appearances. No wonder, that,
during the reign of Henry VII., these matters
were frequently mistaken; and it may safely be
affirmed, that, even in the age of Lord Bacon,
very imperfect and erroneous ideas were formed
on that subject.”
The instances mentioned by Hume in con¬
firmation of these general remarks, are pe¬
culiarly gratifying to those who have a pleasure
in tracing the slow but certain progress of rea¬
son and liberality. “ During the reign,” says
he, “ of Henry VII. it was prohibited to ex-
le of leges legttm; but the meaning of the phrase, on this oc-
not less widely than the rules of Latin or of Greek syntax
38
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
port horses, as if that exportation did not en¬
courage the breed, and make them more plen¬
tiful in the kingdom. Prices were also affixed
to woollen cloths,to caps and hats, and the wages
of labourers were regulated by law. It is evi¬
dent, that these matters ought always to he left free,
and be entrusted to the common course of business
and commerce.”—“ For a like reason,” the his¬
torian continues, the “ law enacted against in¬
closures, and for the keeping up of farm-houses,
scarcely deserves the praises bestowed on it by
Lord Bacon. If husbandmen understand agri¬
culture, and have a ready vent for their com¬
modities, we need not dread a diminution of the
people employed in the country. During a cen¬
tury and a half after this period, there was a
frequent renewal of laws and edicts against de¬
population ; whence we may infer, that none of
them were ever executed. The natural course
of improvement at last provided a remedy.”
These acute and decisive strictures on the im¬
policy of some laws highly applauded by Bacon,
while they strongly illustrate the narrow and
mistaken views in political economy entertained
by the wisest statesmen and philosophers two
centuries ago, afford, at the same time, a proof
of the general diffusion which has since taken place
among the people of Great Britain, of juster and
more enlightened opinions on this important
branch of legislation. Wherever such doctrines
find their way into the page of history, it may
he safely inferred, that the public mind is not
indisposed to give them a welcome reception.
The ideas of Bacon concerning the education
of youth, were such as might he expected from
a philosophical statesman. On the conduct of
education in general, with a view to the de-
velopement and improvement of the intellectual
character, he has suggested various useful hints
in different parts of his works; but what I wish
chiefly to remark at present is, the paramount
importance which he has attached to the education
of the people,—comparing, as he has repeatedly
done, the effects of early culture on the un¬
derstanding and the heart, to the abundant har¬
vest which rewards the diligent husbandman for
the toils of the spring. To this analogy he seems
to have been particularly anxious to attract the
attention of his readers, by bestowing on educa¬
tion the title of the Georgies of the Mind ; iden¬
tifying, by a happy and impressive metaphor, the
two proudest functions entrusted to the legi¬
slator,—the encouragement of agricultural in¬
dustry, and the care of national instruction. In
both instances, the legislator exerts a power
which is literally productive or creative; com¬
pelling, in the one case, the unprofitable desert
to pour forth its latent riches; and in the other,
vivifying the dormant seeds of genius and virtue,
and redeeming from the neglected wastes of hu¬
man intellect, a new and unexpected accession
to the common inheritance of mankind.
When from such speculations as these we
descend to the treatise De Jure Belli et Pads, the
contrast is mortifying indeed. And yet, so
much better suited were the talents and accom¬
plishments of Grotius to the taste, not only of
his contemporaries, hut of their remote descend¬
ants, that, while the merits of Bacon failed, for
a century and a half, to command the general
admiration of Europe,1 Grotius continued, even
in our British universities, the acknowledged
Oracle of Jurisprudence and of Ethics, till long
after the death of Montesquieu. Nor was Bacon
himself unapprised of the slow growth of his
posthumous fame. No writer seems ever to have
felt more deeply, that he properly belonged to a
later and more enlightened age;—a sentiment
which he has pathetically expressed in that clause
of his testament where he “ bequeaths his name
to posterity, after some generations shall he
past.”2
Unbounded, however, as the reputation of
Grotius was on the Continent, even before his
own death, it was not till many years after the
publication of the treatise De Jure Belli et Pacis^
that the science of Natural Jurisprudence became,
in this island, an object of much attention, even (
“ La celebrity en France des ecrits du Chancelier Bacon n’a guere pour date que celle de 1’Encyclopedie.”—(Histone
des Mathematiques par Mmtucla, Preface, p. ix.) It is an extraordinary circumstance, that Bayle, who has so often wasted
his erudition and acuteness on the most insignificant characters, and to whom Le Clerc has very justly ascribed the merit
of wn# exactitude etonnante dans des choscs de neant. should have devoted to Bacon only twelve lines of his Dictionary.
2 See Note F.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
39
to the learned. In order, therefore, to give to
the sequel of this section some degree of con¬
tinuity, I shall reserve my observations on Gro-
tius and his successors, till I shall have finished
all that I think it necessary to mention further,
with respect to the literature of our own coun¬
try, prior to the appearance of Mr Locke’s
Essay.
The rapid advancement of intellectual culti¬
vation in England, between the years 1588 and
1640 (a period of almost uninterrupted peace),
has been remarked by Mr Fox. “ The general
improvement,” he observes, “ in all arts of civil
life, and, above all, the astonishing progress of
literature, are the most striking among the gene¬
ral features of that period; and are in themselves
causes sufficient to produce effects of the utmost
importance. A country whose language was en¬
riched by the works of Hooker, Raleigh, and Ba¬
con, could not hut experience a sensible change
in its manners, and in its style of thinking; and
even to speak the same language in which Spen¬
cer and Shakspeare had written, seemed a suf¬
ficient plea to rescue the Commons of England
from the appellation of Brutes, with which Hen>-
ry the Eighth had addressed them.”—The re¬
mark is equally just and refined. It is by the
mediation of an improving language, that the
progress of the mind is chiefly continued from
one generation to another ; and that the acquire¬
ments of the enlightened few are insensibly im¬
parted to the many. Whatever tends to diminish
the ambiguities of speech, or to fix, with more
logical precision, the import of general terms;—
above all, whatever tends to embody, in popular
forms of expression, the ideas and feelings of the
wise and good, augments the natural powers
of the human understanding, and enables the
succeeding race to start from a higher ground
than was occupied by their fathers. The remark
applies with peculiar force to the study of the
Mind itself; a study, where the chief source of
error is the imperfection of words; and where
every improvement on this great instrument of
thought may be justly regarded in the light of
a discovery.1
In the foregoing list of illustrious names, Mr
Fox has, with much propriety, connected those
of Bacon and Raleigh; two men, who, not¬
withstanding the diversity of their professional
pursuits, and the strong contrast of their cha¬
racters, exhibit, nevertheless, in their capacity
of authors, some striking features of resem¬
blance. Both of them owed to the force of their
own minds, their emancipation from the fetters
of the schools; both were eminently distinguish¬
ed above their contemporaries, by the originality
and enlargement of their philosophical views;
and both divide, with the venerable Hooker,
the glory of exemplifying, to their yet unpolish¬
ed countrymen, the richness, variety, and grace,
which might be lent to the English idiom, by
the hand of a master. *
It is not improbable that Mr Fox might have
included the name of Hobbes in the same enu¬
meration, had he not been prevented by an
aversion to his slavish principles of government,
and by his own disrelish for metaphysical theories.
As a writer, Hobbes unquestionably ranks high
among the older English classics, and is so pe¬
culiarly distinguished by the simplicity and ease
of his manner, that one would naturally have
expected from Mr Fox’s characteristical taste,
1 It is not so foreign as may at first be supposed to the object of this Discourse, to take notice here of the extraordinary
demand for books on Agriculture under the government of James I. The fact is thus very.strongly stated by Dr Johnson,
in his introduction to the Harleian Miscellany. “ It deserves to be remarked, because it is not generally known, that the
treatises on husbandry and agriculture, which were published during the reign of King James, are so numerous, that it can
scarcely be imagined by whom they were written, or to whom they were sold.” Nothing can illustrate more strongly the
effects of a pacific system of policy, in encouraging a general taste for reading, as well as an active spirit of national im¬
provement. At all times, and in every country, the extensive sale of books on agriculture, may be regarded as one of the
most pleasing symptoms of mental cultivation in the great body of a people.
2 To prevent being misunderstood, it is necessary for me to add, that I do not speak of the general style. of these old au¬
thors ; but only of detached passages, which may be selected from all of them, as earnests or first fruits of a new and
brighter era in English literature. It may be safely affirmed, that in their works, and in the prose compositions of Milton,
are to be found some of the finest sentences of which our language has yet to boast. To propose them noie as models, for
imitation would be quite absurd. Dr Lowth certainly went much too far when he said, “ I hat in correctness, propriety,
and purity of English style, Hooker hath hardly been surpassed, or even equalled, by any of his successors.”—/Vc/«ce to
Lowth’s English Grammar.
40
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
that he would have relished his style still more
than that of Bacon1 or of Raleigh. It is with
the philosophical merits, however, of Hobbes,
that we are alone concerned at present; and, in
this point of view, what a space is filled in the
subsequent history of our domestic literature,
by his own works, and by those of his innume¬
rable opponents ! Little. else, indeed, but the
systems which he published, and the conti o-
versies which they provoked, occurs, duiing the
interval between Bacon and Locke, to mark the
progress of English Philosophy, either in the
study of the Mind, or in the kindred researches
of Ethical and Political Science.
Of the few and comparatively trifling excep¬
tions to this remark, furnished by the metaphy¬
sical tracts of Glanville, of Henry More, and
of John Smith, I must delay taking notice, till
some account shall be given of the Cartesian
Philosophy; to which their most interesting dis¬
cussions have a constant reference, either in the
way of comment or refutation.
HOBBES.*
“ The philosopher of Malmesbury,” says Dr
Warburton, “ was the terror of the last age, as
Tindall and Collins are of this. The press
sweat with controversy; and every young
churchman militant, would try his arms in
thundering on Hobbes’s steel cap.”5 Nor was
the opposition to Hobbes confined to the clerical
order, or to the controversialists of his own
times. The most eminent moralists and politi¬
cians of the eighteenth century may be ranked
in the number of his antagonists; and even at
the present moment, scarcely does there appear
a new publication on Ethics or Jurisprudence,
where a refutation of Hobbism is not to be found.
The period when Hobbes began his literary
career, as well as the principal incidents of his
life, were, in a singular degree, favourable to a
mind like his; impatient of the yoke of autho¬
rity, and ambitious to attract attention, if not
by solid and useful discoveries, at least by an
ingenious defence of paradoxical tenets. After
a residence of five years at Oxford, and a very
extensive tour through France and Italy, he
had the good fortune, upon his return to Eng¬
land, to be admitted into the intimacy and con¬
fidence of Lord Bacon; a circumstance which,
we may presume, contributed not a little to en¬
courage that bold spirit of inquiry, and that
aversion to scholastic learning, which character¬
ise his writings. Happy, if he had, at the same
time, imbibed some portion of that love of truth
and zeal for the advancement of knowledge,
which seem to have been Bacon’s ruling pas¬
sions ! But such was the obstinacy of his tem¬
per, and his overweening self-conceit, that, in¬
stead of co-operating with Bacon in the execu¬
tion of his magnificent design, he resolved to
rear, on a foundation exclusively his own, a com¬
plete structure both of Moral and Physical
Science; disdaining to avail himself even of the
materials collected by his predecessors, and
treating the experimentarian philosophers as ob¬
jects only of contempt and ridicule !4
In the political writings of Hobbes, we may
perceive the influence also of other motives.
From his earliest years, he seems to have been
1 According to Dr Burnet (no contemptible judge of style), Bacon was “ the first that writ our language correctly.”
The same learned prelate pronounces Bacon to be “ still our best authorand this, at a time when the works of Sprat,
and many of the prose compositions of Cowley and of Dryden, were already in the hands of the public. It is difficult to
conceive on what grounds Burnet proceeded, in hazarding so extraordinary an opinion.—See the preface to Burnet’s Trans¬
lation of More’s Utopia.
It is still more difficult, on the other hand, to account for the following very bold decision of Mr Hume. I transcribe
it from an essay first published in 1742 ; but the same passage is to be found in the last edition of his works, corrected
by himself. “ The first polite prose we have, was writ by a man (Dr Swift) who is still alive. As to Sprat, Locke, and
even Temple, they knew too little of the rules of art to be esteemed elegant writers. The prose of Bacon, Harrington,
and Milton, is altogether stiff and pedantic, though their sense be excellent.”
How insignificant are the petty grammatical improvements proposed by Swift, when compared with the inexhaustible
riches imparted to the English tongue by the writers of the seventeenth century; and how inferior, in all the higher qua-i
lities and graces of*style, are his prose compositions, to those of his immediate predecessors, Dryden, Pope, and Addison !
2 Born 1588, died'l679.
3 Divine Legation, Pref. to Yol. II. p. 9.
* See Note G.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
41
decidedly hostile to all the forms of popular go¬
vernment ; and it is said to have been with the
design of impressing his countrymen with a j ust
sense of the disorders incident to democratical
establishments, that he published, in 1618, an
English translation of Thucydides. In these
opinions he was more and more confirmed by
the events he afterwards witnessed in England;
the fatal consequences of which he early foresaw
with so much alarm, that, in 1640, he withdrew
from the approaching storm, to enjoy the so¬
ciety of his philosophical friends at Paris. It
was there he wrote his book De Civey a few
copies of which were printed, and privately
circulated in 1642. The same work was after¬
wards given to the public, with material cor¬
rections and improvements, in 1647, when the
author’s attachment to the royal cause being
strengthened by his personal connection with the
exiled king, he thought it incumbent on him
to stand forth avowedly as an advocate for those
principles which he had long professed. The
great object of this performance was to strength¬
en the hands of sovereigns against the rising
spirit of democracy, by arming them with the
weapons of a new philosophy.
The fundamental doctrines inculcated in the
political works of Hobbes are contained in the
following propositions. I recapitulate them
here, not on their own account, hut to prepare
the way for some remarks which I mean after¬
wards to offer on the coincidence between the
principles of Hobbes and those of Locke. In
their practical conclusions, indeed, with re¬
spect to the rights and duties of citizens, the
two writers differ widely; hut it is curious to
observe how very nearly they set out from the
same hypothetical assumptions,
i All men are by nature equal; and, prior to
government, they had all an equal right to en¬
joy the good things of this world. Man, too, is
(according to Hobbes) by nature a solitary and
purely selfish animal; the social union being en¬
tirely an interested league, suggested by pruden¬
tial views of personal advantage. The necessary
consequence is, that a state of nature must he a
state of perpetual warfare, in which no indivi¬
dual has any other means of safety than his own
strength or ingenuity ; and in which there is no
room for regular industry, because no secure en¬
joyment of its fruits. In confirmation of this
view of the origin of society, Hohhes appeals to
facts falling daily within the circle of our own
experience. “ Does not a man (he asks), when
taking a journey, arm himself, and seek to go
well accompanied ? When going to sleep, does
he not lock his doors ? Nay, even in his own
house, does he not lock his chests ? Does he
not there as much accuse mankind by his actions,
as I do by my words P”1 An additional argu¬
ment to the same purpose may, according to
some later Hobbists, he derived from the in¬
stinctive aversion of infants for strangers; and
from the apprehension which, it is alleged,
every person feels, when he hears the tread of
an unknown foot in the dark.
For the sake of peace and security, it is ne¬
cessary that each individual should surrender a
part of his natural right, and he contented with
such a share of liberty as he is willing to allow
to others; or, to use Hobbes’s own language,
“ every man must divest himself of the right he
has to all things by mature ; the right of all mem
to all things being in effect no better than if no
man had a right to any thing.”2 In conse¬
quence of this transference of natural rights to
an individual, or to a body of individuals, the
multitude become one person, under the name
of a State or Republic, by which person the
common will and power are exercised for the
common defence. The ruling power cannot be
withdrawn from those to whom it has been com¬
mitted ; nor can they be punished for misgovern-
ment. The interpretation of the laws is to be
sought, not from the comments of philosophers,
but from the authority of the ruler; otherwise
society would every moment be in danger of re¬
solving itself into the discordant elements of
which it was at first composed. The will of the
magistrate, therefore, is to be regarded as the ulti-
mss. I. PART i.
1 Of Man, Part I. chap. xiii.
* De Corpore Politico, Part I. chap. i. § 10.
F
42
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
mate standard of right and wrong, and his voice
to he listened to by every citizen as the voice of
conscience.
Not many years afterwards,1 Hobbes pushed
the argument for the absolute power of princes
still further, in a work to which he gave the
name of Leviathan. Under this appellation he
means the body politic ; insinuating that man is
an untameable beast of prey, and that govern¬
ment is the strong chain by which he is kept
from mischief. The fundamental principles here
maintained are the same as in the book De Give;
hut as it inveighs more particularly against ec¬
clesiastical tyranny, with the view of subjecting
the consciences of men to the civil authority, it
lost the author the favour of some powerful pro¬
tectors he had hitherto enjoyed among the Eng¬
lish divines who attended Charles II. in France ;
and he even found it convenient to quit that
kingdom, and to return to England, where Crom¬
well (to whose government his political tenets
were now as favourable as they were meant to be
to the royal claims) suffered him to remain un¬
molested. The same circumstances operated to
his disadvantage after the Restoration, and
obliged the King, who always retained for him
a very strong attachment, to confer his marks
of favour on him with the utmost reserve and
circumspection.2
The details which I have entered into, with
respect to the history of Hobbes’s political writ¬
ings, will be found, by those who may peruse
them, to throw much light on the author’s reason¬
ings. Indeed, it is only by thus considering
them in their connection with the circumstances
of the times, and the fortunes of the writer,
that a just notion can be formed of their spirit
and tendency.
The ethical principles of Hohhes are so com¬
pletely interwoven with his political system,
that all which has been said of the one may be
applied to the other. It is very remarkable,
that Descartes should have thought so highly
of the former, as to pronounce Hobbes to be
“ a much greater master of morality than of
metaphysics;” a judgment which is of itself
sufficient to mark the very low state of ethical
science in France about the middle of the seven¬
teenth century. Mr Addison, on the other
hand, gives a decided preference (among all the
books written by Hobbes) to his Treatise on Hu¬
man Nature ; and to his opinion on this point I
most implicitly subscribe ; including, however,
in the same commendation, some of his other
philosophical essays on similiar topics. They
are the only part of his works which it is pos¬
sible now to read with any interest; and they
everywhere evince in their author, even when
he thinks most unsoundly himself, that power
of setting his reader a-thinking, which is one of
the most unequivocal marks of original genius.
They have plainly been studied with the utmost
care both by Locke and Hume. To the former
they have suggested some of his most important
observations on the Association of Ideas, as well
as much of the sophistry displayed in the first
book of his Essay, on the Origin of our Know¬
ledge, and on the factitious nature of our moral
principles; to the latter (among a variety of
hints of less consequence), his theory concern¬
ing the nature of those established connections
among physical events, which it is the business
of the natural philosopher to ascertain,3 and the
substance of his argument against the scho¬
lastic doctrine of general conceptions. It is from
the works of Hobbes, too, that our later Neces¬
sitarians have borrowed the most formidable of
those weapons with which they have combated
the doctrine of moral liberty; and from the
same source has been derived the leading idea
1 In 1651.
* See Note H.
3 The same doctrine, concerning the proper object of natural philosophy (commonly ascribed to Mr Hume, both by his
followers and by his opponents), is to be found in various writers contemporary with Hobbes. It is stated, with uncom-
mon precision and clearness, in a hook entitled Scepsis Scientifica, or Confessed Ignorance the way to Science, by Joseph
Glanvill, (printed in 1665). The whole work is strongly marked with the features of an acute, an original, and, in matters
ot science, a somewhat sceptical genius ; and, when compared with the treatise on witchcraft, by the same author, adds
another proof to those already mentioned, of the possible union of the highest intellectual gifts with the most degrading
intellectual weaknesses. • n o
With respect to the Scepsis Scientifica, it deserves to be noticed, that the doctrine maintained in it concerning physical
causes and effects does not occur in the form of a detached observation, of the value of which the author might not have
been fully aware, but is the very basis of the general argument running through all his discussions.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
43
which runs through the philological materialism
of Mr Horne Tooke. It is probable, indeed,
that this last author borrowed it, at second¬
hand, from a hint in Locke’s Essay; but it is
repeatedly stated by Hobbes, in the most ex¬
plicit and confident terms. Of this idea (than
which, in point of fact, nothing can be imagin¬
ed more puerile and unsound), Mr Tooke’s
etymologies, when he applies them to the solu¬
tion of metaphysical questions, are little more
than an ingenious expansion, adapted and level¬
led to the comprehension of the multitude.
The speculations of Hobbes, however, con¬
cerning the theory of the understanding, do not
seem to have been nearly so much attended to
during his own life, as some of his other doc¬
trines, which, having a more immediate refer¬
ence to human affairs, were better adapted to
the unsettled and revolutionary spirit of the
times. It is by these doctrines, chiefly, that his
name has since become so memorable in the an¬
nals of modern literature; and although they
now derive their whole interest from the extra¬
ordinary combination they exhibit of acuteness
and subtlety with a dead-palsy in the powers of
taste and of moral sensibility, yet they will be
found, on an attentive examination, to have had
a far more extensive influence on the subsequent
history, both of political and of ethical science,
than any other publication of the same period.
ANTAGONISTS OF HOBBES.
Cud worth1 was one of the first who success¬
fully combated this new philosophy. As Hobbes,
in the frenzy of his political zeal, had been led
to sacrifice wantonly all the principles of re¬
ligion and morality to the establishment of his
conclusions, his works not only gave offence to
the friends of liberty, but excited a general
alarm among all sound moralists. His doctrine,
in particular, that there is no natural distinction
between Right and Wrong, and that these are
dependent on the arbitrary will of the civil ma¬
gistrate, was so obviously subversive of all the
commonly received ideas concerning the moral
constitution of human nature, that it became in¬
dispensably necessary, either to expose the so¬
phistry of the attempt, or to admit, with Hobbes,
that man is a beast of prey, incapable of being
governed by any motives but fear, and the de¬
sire of self-preservation.
Between some of these tenets of the courtly
Hobbists, and those inculcated by the Cromwel¬
lian Antinomians, there was a very extraor¬
dinary and unfortunate coincidence; the latter
insisting, that, in expectation of Christ’s second
coming, “ the obligations of morality and natural
law were suspended; and that the elect, guided
by an internal principle, more perfect and divine,
were superior to the beggarly elements of justice
and humanity.”3 It was tho object of Cudworth
to vindicate, against the assaults of both parties,
the immutability of moral distinctions.
In the prosecution of his very able argument
on this subject, Cudworth displays a rich store
of enlightened and choice erudition, penetrated
throughout with a peculiar vein of sobered and
subdued Platonism, from whence some German
systems, which have attracted no small notice
in our own times, will be found, when stripped
of their deep neological disguise, to have bor¬
rowed their most valuable materials.3
1 Born 1617, died 1688. , . „ . TT_ . .
2 Hume For a more particular account of the English Antinomians, See Mosheim, V ol. IV. p. od4, et scq.
3 The mind, according to Cudworth, perceives, by occasion of outward objects, as much more than as represen ec oi
by sense, as a learned man does in the best written book, than an illiterate person or brute. o e eyes o o ,
same characters will appear; but the learned man, in those characters, will see heaven, earth, sun, and s ars , rea pr -
found theorems of philosophy or geometry; learn a great deal of new knowledge from them, and admire e was om
the composer; while, to the other, nothing appears but black strokes drawn on white paper. I he reason on 1C 1 ’
that the mind of the one is furnished with certain previous inward anticipations, ideas, and instruction, a e o
wants.”—“ In the room of this book of kuman composition, let us now substitute the book of Nature, written all
over with the characters and impressions of divine wisdom and goodness, but legible only to an intel ec ua eye.
sense both of man and brute, there appears nothing else in it, but, as in the other, so many inky scrawls ; t a i , K
but figures and colours. But the mind, which hath a participation of the divine wisdom that made it, upon oc
those sensible delineations, exerting its own inward activity, will have not only a wonderful scene, and large prosp P
44
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Another coincidence between the Hobbists
and the Antinomians, may be remarked in their
common zeal for the scheme of necessity ; which
both of them stated in such a way as to he
equally inconsistent with the moral agency of
man, and with the moral attributes of God.1
The strongest of all presumptions against this
scheme is afforded by the other tenets with
which it is almost universally combined; and ac¬
cordingly, it was very shrewdly observed by
Cudworth, that the licentious system which flou¬
rished in his time (under which title, I pre¬
sume, he comprehended the immoral tenets of
the fanatics as well as of the Hobbists), C{ grew
up from the doctrine of the fatal necessity of all
actions and events, as from its proper root.”
The unsettled, and, at the same time, disputa¬
tious period during which Cudworth lived, af¬
forded him peculiarly favourable opportunities
of judging from experience, of the practical ten¬
dency of this metaphysical dogma; and the re¬
sult of his observations deserves the serious at¬
tention of those who may be disposed to regard
it in the light of a fair and harmless theme for
the display of controversial subtility. To argue,
in this manner, against a speculative principle
from its palpable effects, is not always so illogi¬
cal as some authors have supposed. “ You re¬
peat to me incessantly,” says Rousseau to one
of his correspondents, that truth can never be
injurious to the world. I myself believe so as
firmly as you do; and it is for this very reason
I am satisfied that your proposition is false.”2
But the principal importance of Cudworth, as
an ethical writer, arises from the influence of
his argument concerning the immutability of
right and wrong on the various theories of mo¬
rals which appeared in the course of the eigh¬
teenth century. To this argument may, more
particularly, be traced the origin of the cele¬
brated question, Whether the principle of moral
approbation is to be ultimately resolved into
Reason, or into Sentiment ?—a question which
has furnished the chief ground of difference be¬
tween the Systems of Cudworth qnd of Clarke,
on the one hand; and those of Shaftesbury,
Hutcheson, Hume, and Smith, on the other.
The remarks which I have to offer on this con¬
troversy must evidently be delayed, till the writ¬
ings of these more modern authors shall fall un¬
der review.
The Intellectual System of Cudworth embraces
a field much wider than his treatise of Immu¬
table Morality. The latter is particularly direct¬
ed against the ethical doctrines of Hobbes, and
of the Antinomians; but the former aspires to
tear up by the roots all the principles, both phy¬
sical and metaphysical, of the Epicurean philo¬
sophy. It is a work, certainly, which reflects
much honour on the talents of the author, and
still more on the boundless extent of his learn¬
ing ; but it is so ill suited to the taste of the
present age, that, since the time of Mr Harris
and Hr Price, I scarcely recollect the slightest
reference to it in the writings of our British me¬
taphysicians. Of its faults (beside the general
disposition of the author to discuss questions
placed altogether beyond the reach of our facul¬
ties), the most prominent is the wild hypothesis
of a plastic nature ; or, in other words, “ of a
vital and spiritual, but unintelligent and neces¬
sary agent, created by the Deity for the execu-
other thoughts laid open before it, and variety of knowledge, logical, mathematical, and moral, displayed ; but also clearly
read the divine wisdom and goodness in every page of this great volume, as it were written in large and legible characters.”
I do not pretend to be an adept in the philosophy of Kant; but I certainly think I pay it a very high compliment, when
I suppose, that, in the Critic of Pure Reason, the leading idea is somewhat analogous to what is so much better expressed in
the foregoing passage. To Kant it was probably suggested by the following very acute and decisive remark of Leibnitz on
Locke’s Essay : “ .Nempe, nihil est in intellectu, quod non fuerit in sensu, nisi ipse intellectus.”
Injustice to Aristotle, it may be here observed, that, although the general strain of his language is strictly conformable
to the scholastic maxim just quoted, he does not seem to have altogether overlooked the important exception to it pointed
out by Leibnitz. Indeed,, this exception or limitation is very nearly a translation of Aristotle’s words. Kai air is Si (vsCf)
vajjrof ia’T/v, ra. vortra' ur) fth ya.^ run aviu v\ns, ro auro Irrrt voouv, xa.) to voovftivov. “And the mind itself is an object of
knowledge, as well as other things whicn are intelligible. For, in immaterial beings, that which understands is the same
with that which is understood.”—(De Anima, Lib. iii. cap. iv.) I quote this very curious, and, I suspect, very little
known sentence, in order to vindicate Aristotle against the misrepresentations of some of his present idolaters, who, in
their anxiety to secure to him all the credit of Locke’s doctrine concerning the origin of our Ideas, have overlooked the
occasional traces which occur in his works, of that higher and sounder philosophy in which he had been educated.
ihe doctrines of fate or destiny were deemed by the Independents essential to all religion. In these rigid opinions,
the •whole sectaries, amidst all their other differences, unanimously concurred.”—Hume’s History, chap. Ivii.
“ Yous repetez sans cesse que la vdrite ne peut jamais faire de mal aux hommes; je le crois, et e’est pour moi la
preuve que ce que vous dites n’est pas la ve'rite.” .. . 3 1
DISSERTATION FIRST.
45
tion of his purposes.” Notwithstanding, how¬
ever, these, and many other abatements of its
merits, the Intellectual System will for ever re¬
main a precious mine of information to those
whose curiosity may lead them to study the spi¬
rit of the ancient theories; and to it we may
justly apply what Leibnitz has somewhere said,
with far less reason, of the works of the school¬
men, “ Scholasticos agnosco abundare ineptiis;
sed aurum est in illo cceno.”1
Before dismissing the doctrines of Hobbes, it
may be worth while to remark, that all his lead¬
ing principles are traced by Cudworth to the re¬
mains of the ancient sceptics, by some of whom,
as well as by Hobbes, they seem to have been
adopted from a wish to flatter the uncontrolled
passions of sovereigns. Not that I am disposed
to call in question the originality of Hobbes;
for it appears, from the testimony of all his
friends, that he had much less pleasure in read¬
ing than in thinking. “ If I had read,” he was
accustomed to say, “ as much as some others, I
should have been as ignorant as they are.” But
similar political circumstances invariably repro¬
duce similar philosophical theories; and it is
one of the numerous disadvantages attending an
inventive mind, not properly furnished with ac¬
quired information, to be continually liable to a
waste of its powers on subjects previously ex¬
hausted.
The sudden tide of licentiousness, both in
principles and in practice, which burst into this
island at the moment of the Restoration, con¬
spired with the paradoxes of Hobbes, and with
the no less dangerous errors recently propagated
among the people by their religious instructors,
to turn the thoughts of sober and speculative
men towards ethical disquisitions. The esta¬
blished clergy assumed a higher tone than be¬
fore in their sermons; sometimes employing
them in combating that Epicurean and Machia-
velian philosophy which was then fashionable at
court, and which may be always suspected to
form the secret creed of the enemies of civil and
religious liberty;—on other occasions, to over¬
whelm, with the united force of argument and
learning, the extravagances by which the igno¬
rant enthusiasts of the preceding period had ex¬
posed Christianity itself to the scoffs of their li¬
bertine opponents. Among the divines who ap¬
peared at this era, it is impossible to pass over
in silence the name of Barrow, whose theological
works (adorned throughout by classical erudition,
and by a vigorous, though unpolished eloquence),
exhibit, in every page, marks of the same inven¬
tive genius which, in mathematics, has secured to
him a rank second alone to that of Newton. As
a writer, he is equally distinguished by the re¬
dundancy of his matter, and by the pregnant
brevity of his expression; but what more pecu¬
liarly characterises his manner, is a certain air
of powerful and of conscious facility in the exe¬
cution of whatever he undertakes. Whether
the subject be mathematical, metaphysical, or
theological, he seems always to bring to it a
mind which feels itself superior to the occasion ;
and which, in contending with the greatest dif¬
ficulties, “ puts forth but half its strength.”
He has somewhere spoken of his Lectiones Ma¬
thematics (which it may, in passing, be remarked,
display metaphysical talents of the highest order),
as extemporaneous effusions of his pen; and I
have no doubt that the same epithet is still more
literally applicable to his pulpit discourses. It
is, indeed, only thus we can account for the va¬
riety and extent of his voluminous remains,
when we recollect that the author died at the
age of forty-six.2
To the extreme rapidity with which Barrow
committed his thoughts to writing, I am inclined
to ascribe the hasty and not altogether consist-
1 The Intellectual System was published in 1678. The Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality did not appear
till a considerable number of years after the author’s death. „ „ „ „„
2 In a note annexed to an English translation of the Cardinal Maury’s Principles of Eloquence, it is sta e , upo
thority of a manuscript of Dr Doddridge, that most of Barrow’s sermons were transcribed three times, an« s0I«e much
oftener. They seem to me to contain very strong intrinsic evidence of the incorrectness of this anecc ote. r
Hill, in his Account of the Life of Barrow, addressed to Dr Tillotson, contents himself with saying,. 1a * omc 0 *
mons were written four or five times over—mentioning, at the same time, a circumstance which may accoun
fact, in perfect consistency with what I have stated above,—that Barrow was very ready to lend his sermons as o
desired.”
46
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
eat opinions which he has hazarded on some im¬
portant topics. I shall confine myself to a single
example, which I select in preference to others,
as it bears directly on the most interesting of all
questions connected with the theory of morals.
“ If we scan,” says he, “ the particular nature,
and search into the original causes of the seve¬
ral kinds of naughty dispositions in our souls,
and of miscarriages in our lives, we shall find
inordinate self-love to be a main ingredient, and
a common source of them all; so that a divine
of great name had some reason to affirm,—that
original sin (or that innate distemper from which
men generally become so very prone to evil, and
averse to good), doth consist in self-love, dispo¬
sing us to all kinds of irregularity and excess.”
In another passage, the same author expresses
himself thus:—u Reason dictateth and pre-
scribeth to us, that we should have a sober re¬
gard to our true good and welfare; to our best
interests and solid content; to that which (all
things being rightly stated, considered, and com¬
puted) will, in the final event, prove most bene¬
ficial and satisfactory to us: a self-love working
in prosecution of such things, common sense
cannot but allow and approve.”
Of these two opposite and irreconcileable opi¬
nions, the latter is incomparably the least wide
of the truth; and accordingly Mr Locke, and
his innumerable followers, both in England and
on the Continent, have maintained, that virtue
and an enlightened self-love are one and the
same. I shall afterwards find a more conve¬
nient opportunity for stating some objections to
the latter doctrine, as well as to the former. I
have quoted the two passages here, merely to
show the very little attention that had been
paid, at the era in question, to ethical science,
by one of the most learned and profound divines
of his age. This is the more remarkable, as his
works everywhere inculcate the purest lessons
of practical morality, and evince a singular
acuteness and justness of eye in the observation
of human character. Whoever compares the
views of Barrow, when he touches on the theory
of morals, with those opened about fifty years
afterwards by Dr Butler, in his Discourses on
Human Isature^ will be abundantly satisfied,
that, in this science, as well as in others, the
progress of the philosophical spirit during the
intervening period was not inconsiderable.
The name of Wilkins (although he too wrote
with some reputation against the Epicureans of
his day), is now remembered chiefly in conse¬
quence of his treatises concerning a universal lan¬
guage and a real character. Of these treatises, I
shall hereafter have occasion to take some notice,
under a different article. With all the ingenuity
displayed in them, they cannot be considered as
accessions of much value to science; and the
long period since elapsed, during which no at¬
tempt has been made to turn them to any prac¬
tical use, affords of itself no slight presumption
against the solidity of the project.
'A few years before the death of Hobbes, Dr
Cumberland (afterwards Bishop of Peterbo¬
rough) published a book, entitled, De Legibus
Natures, Disquisitio Philosophical the principal
aim of which was to confirm and illustrate, in
opposition to Hobbes, the conclusions of Grotius,
concerning Natural Law. The work is executed
with ability, and discovers juster views of the
object of moral science, than any modern sys¬
tem that had yet appeared; the author resting
the strength of his argument, not, as Grotius
had done, on an accumulation of authorities, but
on the principles of the human frame, and the
mutual relations of the human race. The cir¬
cumstance, however, which chiefly entitles this
publication to our notice, is, that it seems to
have been the earliest on the subject which at¬
tracted, in any considerable degree, the attention
of English scholars. From this time, the writings
of Grotius and of Puffendorff began to be gene¬
rally studied, and soon after made their way
into the Universities. In Scotland, the im¬
pression produced by them was more peculiarly
remarkable. They were everywhere adopted as
the best manuals of ethical and of political in¬
struction that could be put into the hands of
students, and gradually contributed to form that
memorable school, from whence so many philo¬
sophers and philosophical historians were after¬
wards to proceed.
From the writings of Hobbes to those of
Locke, the transition is easy and obvious; but
before prosecuting farther the history of philo¬
sophy in England, it will be proper to turn our
DISSERTATION FIRST.
47
attention to its progress abroad, since the period
at which this section commences.1 In the first
place, however, I shall add a few miscellaneous
remarks on some important events which oc¬
curred in this country during the lifetime of
Hobbes, and of which his extraordinary longe¬
vity prevented me sooner from taking notice.
Among these events, that which is most im¬
mediately connected with our present subject,
is the establishment of the Royal Society of
London in 1662, which was followed a few years
afterwards by that of the Royal Academy of
Sciences at Paris. The professed object of both
institutions was the improvement of Experi¬
mental Knowledge, and of the auxiliary science
of Mathematics; but their influence on the
general progress of human reason has been far
greater than could possibly have been foreseen
at the moment of their foundation. On the
happy effects resulting from them in this re¬
spect, La Place has introduced some just reflec¬
tions in his System of the World, which, as they
discover more originality of thought than he com¬
monly displays, when he ventures to step beyond
the circumference of his own magic circle, I shall
quote, in a literal translation of his words.
“ The chief advantage of learned societies, is
the philosophical spirit to which they may be ex¬
pected to give birth, and which they cannot fail
to diffuse over all the various pursuits of the
nations among whom they are established. The
insulated scholar may without dread abandon
himself to the spirit of system; he hears the
voice of contradiction only from afar. But in
a learned society, the collision of systematic
opinions soon terminates in their common de¬
struction ; while the desire of mutual conviction
creates among the members a tacit compact, to
admit nothing but the results of observation, or
the conclusions of mathematical reasoning. Ac¬
cordingly, experience has shown, how much
these establishments have contributed, since
their origin, to the spread of true philosophy.
By setting the example of submitting every
thing to the examination of a severe logic, they
have dissipated the prejudices which had too
long reigned in the sciences, and which the
strongest minds of the preceding centuries had
not been able to resist. They have constantly
opposed to empiricism a mass of knowledge,
against which the errors adopted by the vulgar,
with an enthusiasm which, in former times,
would have perpetuated their empire, have spent
their force in vain. In a word, it has been in
their bosoms that those grand theories have been
conceived, which, although far exalted by their
generality above the reach of the multitude, are
for this very reason entitled to special encourage¬
ment, from their innumerable applications to
the phenonema of nature, and to the practice of
the arts.”3
In confirmation of these judicious remarks, it
1 Throughout the whole of this Discourse, I have avoided touching on the discussions which, on various occasions, have
arisen with regard to the theory of government, and the comparative advantages or disadvantages of different political
forms. Of the scope and spirit of these discussions it would be seldom possible to convey a just idea, without entering
into details of a local or temporary nature, inconsistent with my general design. In the present circumstances of the
world, besides, the theory of government (although, in one point of view, the most important of all studies) seems to possess
a very subordinate interest to inquiries connected with political economy, and with the fundamental principles of legisla¬
tion. What is it, indeed, that renders one form of government more favourable than another to human happiness,^ but
the superior security it provides for the enactment of wise laws, and for their impartial and vigorous execution ? These^
considerations will sufficiently account for my passing over in silence, not only the names of Needham, of Sidney, and ot
Milton, but that of Harrington, whose Oceana is justly regarded as one of the boasts of English literature, and is pronounced
by Hume to be “ the only valuable model of a commonwealth that has yet been offered to the public.”—Essays and Trea¬
tises, Vol. I. Essay xvi.
A remark which Hume has elsewhere made on the Oceana, appears to me so striking and so instructive, that I shall give
it a place in this note. Harrington,” he observes, “ thought himself so sure of his general principle, that the balance of
power depends on that of property, that he ventured to pronounce it impossible ever to re-establish monarchy in England :
But his book was scarcely published when the King was restored ; and we see that monarchy has ever since subsisted on
the same footing as before. So dangerous is it for a politician to venture to foretell the situation of public affairs a few
years hence.”—Ibid. Essay vii.
How much nearer the truth, even in the science of politics, is Bacon’s cardinal principle, that knowledge is power !—a
principle, which applies to Man not less in his corporate than in his individual capacity ; and which may be safely trusted
to as the most solid of all foundations for our reasonings concerning the future history of the world.
a The Royal Society of London, though not incorporated by charter till 1662, may be considered as virtually existing,
at least as far back as 1638, when some of the most eminent of the original members began first to hold regular meetings
at Gresham College, for the purpose of philosophical discussion. Even these meetings were but a continuation of those
previously held by the same individuals, at the apartments of Dr Wilkins in Oxford.—See Sprat’s History of the Royal
Society.
48
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
may be farther observed, that nothing could
have been more happily imagined than the esta¬
blishment of learned corporations for correcting
those prejudices which (under the significant
title of Idola Specus), Bacon has described as in¬
cident to the retired student. While these idols
of the den maintain their authority, the cultiva¬
tion of the philosophical spirit is impossible; or
rather, it is in a renunciation of this idolatry
that the philosophical spirit essentially consists.
It was accordingly in this great school of the
learned world, that the characters of Bacon,
Descartes, Leibnitz, and Locke were formed ;
the four individuals who have contributed the
most to diffuse the philosophical spirit over
Europe. The remark applies more peculiarly
to Bacon, who first pointed out the inconveni¬
ences to be apprehended from a minute and
mechanical subdivision of literarv labour; and
anticipated the advantages to be expected from
the institution of learned academies, in enlar¬
ging the field of scientific curiosity, and the cor¬
respondent grasp of the emancipated mind. For
accomplishing this object, what means so effec¬
tual as habits of daily intercourse with men
whose pursuits are different from our own ; and
that expanded knowledge, both of man and of
nature, of which such an intercourse must ne¬
cessarily be productive !
Another event which operated still more for¬
cibly and universally on the intellectual cha¬
racter of our countrymen, was the civil war
which began in 1640, and which ultimately
terminated in the usurpation of Cromwell. It
is observed by Mr Hume, that “ the prevalence
of democratical principles, under the Common¬
wealth, engaged the country gentlemen to bind
their sons apprentices to merchants; and that
commerce has ever since been more honourable
in England, than in any other European king¬
dom.”1 “ The higher and the lower ranks (as
a later writer has remarked) were thus brought
closer together, and all of them inspired with
an activity and vigour that, in former ages, had
no example.”2
To this combination of the pursuits of trade,
with the advantages of a liberal education, may
be ascribed the great multitude of ingenious and
enlightened speculations on commerce, and on
the other branches of national industry, which
issued from the press, in the short interval be¬
tween the Restoration and the Revolution; an
interval during which the sudden and immense
extension of the trade of England, and the cor¬
responding rise of the commercial interest, must
have presented a spectacle peculiarly calculated
to awaken the curiosity of inquisitive observers.
It is a very remarkable circumstance with re¬
spect to these economical researches, which now
engage so much of the attention both of states¬
men and of philosophers, that they are altogether
of modern origin. “ There is scarcely,” says
Mr Hume, “ any ancient writer on politics who
has made mention of trade; nor was it ever con¬
sidered as an affair of state till the seventeenth
century.”3—The work of the celebrated John de
Witt, entitled, “ The true interest and political
maxims of the republic of Holland and W est Fries-
land,” is the earliest publication of any note, in
which commerce is treated of as an object of na¬
tional and political concern, in opposition to the par¬
tial interests of corporations and of monopolists.
Of the English publications to which I have
just alluded, the greater part consists of anony¬
mous pamphlets, now only to be met with in the
collections of the curious. A few bear the
names of eminent English merchants. I shall
have occasion to refer to them more particularly
afterwards, when I come to speak of the writings
of Smith, Quesnay, and Turgot. At present,
I shall only observe, that, in these fugitive and
now neglected tracts, are to be found the first
rudiments of that science of Political Economy,
which is justly considered as the boast of the
present age; and which, although the aid of
learning and philosophy was necessary to rear it
to maturity, may he justly said to have had its
cradle in the Royal Exchange of London.
Mr Locke was one of the first retired theorists
(and this singular feature in his history has not
1 History of England, chap. Ixii.
1 Chalmers’s Political Estimate, &c. (London, 1004) p. 44.
3 Essay of Civil Liberty.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
49
been sufficiently attended to by his biographers),
who condescended to treat of trade as an object
of liberal study. Notwithstanding the manifold
errors into which he fell in the course of his
reasonings concerning it, it may be fairly ques¬
tioned, if he has anywhere else given greater
proofs, either of the vigour or of the originality
of his genius. But the name of Locke reminds
me, that it is now time to interrupt these nation¬
al details, and to turn our attention to the pro¬
gress of science on the Continent, since the times
of Bodinus and of Campanella.
SECTION II.
Progress of Philosophy in France during the Seventeenth Century.
MONTAIGNE—CHARRON—LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.
At the head of the French writers who con¬
tributed, in the beginning of the seventeenth
century, to turn the thoughts of their country¬
men to subjects connected with the Philosophy
of Mind, Montaigne may, I apprehend, be justly
placed. Properly speaking, he belongs to a
period somewhat earlier; but his tone of think¬
ing and of writing classes him much more natu¬
rally with his successors, than with any French
author who had appeared before him.1
In assigning to Montaigne so distinguished a
rank in the history of modern philosophy, I need
scarcely say, that I leave entirely out of the ac¬
count what constitutes (and justly constitutes)
to the generality of readers the principal charm
of his Essays; the good nature, humanity, and
unaffected sensibility, which so irresistibly attach
us to his character,—lending, it must be owned,
but too often a fascination to his talk) when he
cannot be recommended as the safest of com¬
panions. Nor do I lay much stress on the in¬
viting frankness and vivacity with which he un¬
bosoms himself about all his domestic habits and
concerns, and which render his book so ex¬
pressive a portrait, not only of the author, but
of the Gascon country gentleman, two hundred
years ago. I have in view chiefly the minute¬
ness and good faith of his details concerning his
own personal qualities, both intellectual and mo¬
ral. The only study which seems ever to have
engaged his attention was that of man ; and for
this he was singularly fitted, by a rare com¬
bination of that talent for observation which be¬
longs to men of the world, with those habits of
abstracted reflection, which men of the world
have commonly so little disposition to cultivate.
“ I study myself,” says he, “ more than any
other subject. This is my metaphysic ; this my
natural philosophy.”8 He has accordingly pro¬
duced a work, unique in its kind; valuable, in
an eminent degree, as an authentic record of
many interesting facts relative to human nature;
but more valuable by far, as holding up a mirror
in which every individual, if he does not see his
own image, will at least occasionally perceive
so many traits of resemblance to it, as can scarce¬
ly fail to invite his curiosity to a more careful
review of himself. In this respect, Montaigne’s
writings may be regarded in the light of what
painters call studies; in other words, of those
slight sketches which were originally designed
for the improvement or amusement of the artist,
but which, on that account, are the more likely
to be useful in developing the germs of similar
endowments in others.
Without a union of these two powers (reflection
1 Montaigne was born in 1533, and died in 1592.
DISS. I. PART I.
2 Essays, Book iii. chap. xiii.
G
50
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
and observation), the study of Man can never
be successfully prosecuted. It is only by re¬
tiring within ourselves that we can obtain a key
to the characters of others; and it is only by
observing and comparing the characters of others
that we can thoroughly understand and appre¬
ciate our own.
After all, however, it maybe fairly questioned,
notwithstanding the scrupulous fidelity with
which Montaigne has endeavoured to delineate
his own portrait, if he has been always sufficient¬
ly aware of the secret folds and reduplications
of the human heart. That he was by no means
exempted from the common delusions of self-love
and self-deceit, has been fully evinced in a very
acute, though somewhat uncharitable, section of
the Port-Royal logic ; but this consideration, so
far from diminishing the value of his Essays, is
one of the most instructive lessons they afford to
those who, after the example of the author, may
undertake the salutary but humiliating task of
self-examination.
As Montaigne’s scientific knowledge was, ac¬
cording to his own account, “ very vague and
imperfect,”1 and his book-learning rather sen¬
tentious and gossiping, than comprehensive and
systematical, it would be unreasonable to expect,
in his philosophical arguments, much either of
depth or of solidity.2 The sentiments he hazards
are to be regarded but as the impressions of the
moment; consisting chiefly of the more obvious
doubt s and difficulties which, on all metaphysical
and moral questions, are apt to present them¬
selves to a speculative mind, when it first at¬
tempts to dig below the surface of common
opinions. In reading Montaigne, accordingly,
what chiefly strikes us, is not the novelty or the
refinement of his ideas, but the liveliness and
felicity with which we see embodied in words
the previous wanderings of our own imaginations.
It is probably owing to this circumstance, rather
than to any direct plagiarism, that his Essays
appear to contain the germs of so many of the
paradoxical theories which, in later times, Hel-
vetius and others have laboured to systematise
and to support with the parade of metaphysical
discussion. In the mind of Montaigne, the same
paradoxes may be easily traced to those deceitful
appearances which, in order to stimulate our
faculties to their best exertions, nature seems
purposely to have thrown in our way, as stum¬
bling-blocks in the pursuit of truth ; and it is
only to be regretted on such occasions, for the
sake of his own happiness, that his genius and
temper qualified and disposed him more to start
the problem than to investigate the solution.
When Montaigne touches on religion, he is,
in general, less pleasing than on other subjects.
His constitutional temper, it is probable, pre¬
disposed him to scepticism; but this original
bias could not fail to be mightily strengthened
by the disputes, both religious and political,
which, during his lifetime, convulsed Europe,
and more particularly his own country. On a
mind like his it may be safely presumed, that
the writings of the Reformers, and the instruc¬
tions of Buchanan, were not altogether without
effect; and hence, in all probability, the per¬
petual struggle, which he is at no pains to con¬
ceal, between the creed of his infancy, and the
lights of his mature understanding. He speaks,
indeed, of “ reposing tranquilly on the pillow of
doubtbut this language is neither reconcileable
with the general complexion of his works, nor
with the most authentic accounts we have re¬
ceived of his dying moments. It is a maxim of
his own, that, “ in forming a judgment of a
man’s life, particular regard should be paid to
his behaviour at the end of itto which he
pathetically adds, “ that the chief study of his
own life was, that his latter end might be de¬
cent, calm, and silent.” The fact is (if we may
credit the testimony of his biographers), that,
in his declining years, he exchanged his boast¬
ed of doubt for the more powerful opiates
prescribed by the infallible church ; and that he
1 Book i. chap. xxv.
2 Montaigne’s education, however, had not been neglected by his father. On the contrary, he tells us himself, that
“ George Buchanan, the great poet of Scotland, and Marcus Antonius Muretus, the best orator of his time, were among
the number of his domestic preceptors.”—“ Buchanan,” he adds, “ when I saw him afterwards in the retinue of the late
Maresehal de Brissac, told me, that he was about to write a treatise on the education of children, and that he would take
the model of it from mine.”—Book i. chap. xxv.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
51
expired in performing what his old preceptor
Buchanan would not have scrupled to describe
as an act of idolatry.1
The scepticism of Montaigne seems to have
been of a very peculiar cast, and to have had
little in common with that either of Bayle or of
Hume. The great aim of the two latter writers
evidently was, by exposing the uncertainty of
our reasonings whenever we pass the limit of
sensible objects, to inspire their readers with a
complete distrust of the human faculties on all
moral and metaphysical topics. Montaigne, on
the other hand, never thinks of forming a sect;
but, yielding passively to the current of his re¬
flections and feelings, argues, at different times,
according to the varying state of his impressions
and temper, on opposite sides of the same ques¬
tion. On all occasions, he preserves an air of
the most perfect sincerity; and it was to this,
I presume, much more than to the superiority
of his reasoning powers, that Montesquieu al¬
luded, when he said, “ In the greater part of
authors I see the writer; in Montaigne I see
nothing hut the thinker^ The radical fault of
his understanding consisted in an incapacity of
forming, on disputable points, those decided and
fixed opinions which can alone impart either
force or consistency to intellectual character.
For remedying this weakness, the religious con¬
troversies, and the civil wars recently engender¬
ed by the Reformation, were hut ill calculated.
The minds of the most serious men, all over
Christendom, must have been then unsettled in
an extraordinary degree; and where any pre¬
disposition to scepticism existed, every external
circumstance must have conspired to cherish and
confirm it. Of the extent to which it was car¬
ried, about the same period, in England, some
judgment maybe formed from the following de¬
scription of a Sceptic by a writer not many years
posterior to Montaigne.
et A sceptic in religion is one that hangs in
the balance Avith |dl sorts of opinions ; whereof
not one hut stirs him, and none sways him. A
man guiltier of credulity than he is taken to he;
for it is out of his belief of every thing that he
believes nothing. Each religion scares him
from its contrary, none persuades him to itself.
He would he wholly a Christian, hut that he is
something of an Atheist; and wholly an Atheist,
but that he is partly a Christian ; and a perfect
Heretic, but that there are so many to distract
him. He finds reason in all opinions, truth in
none; indeed, the least reason perplexes him,
and the best will not satisfy him. He finds
doubts and scruples better than resolves them,
and is always too hard for himself”* If this
portrait had been presented to Montaigne, I have
little doubt that he Avould have had the candour
to acknowledge, that he recognised in it some
of the most prominent and characteristical fea¬
tures of his own mind.3
The most elaborate, and seemingly the most
serious, of all Montaigne’s essays, is his long
and somewhat tedious Apology for Haimond de
Sebonde, contained in the twelfth chapter of his
second hook. This author appears, from Mon¬
taigne’s account, to haATe been a Spaniard, who
professed physic at Thoulouse, toAvards the end
of the fourteenth century; and avIio published
a treatise, entitled, Theologia Naturalis, Avhich
Avas put into the hands of Montaigne’s lather by
a friend, as a useful antidote against the inno-
vations with which Luther Avas then beginning
to disturb the ancient faith. That, in this parti¬
cular instance, the hook answered the intended
purpose, may be presumed from the request of
old Montaigne to his son, a few days hetore his
1 “ Sentant sa fin approcher, il fit dire la messe dans sa chambre. A I’elevation de 1 hostie, il se leva sur son lit pour
1’adorer; mais une foiblesse 1’enleva dans ce moment meme, le 15 Septembre 1592, a 60 ans. —Nouveau Diet. Jhstor. h
Micro^cot^oomphy^orT'piece of the World Discovered, in Essays and Characters. For a short notice of the author of this
very curious book (Bishop Earle), See the edition published at London in 1811. The chapter containing the above passage
is entitled, A Sceptic in Religion ; and it has plainly suggested to Lord Clarendon some of the ideas, an even e p ,
which occur in his account of Chillingworth. ,, .  A .• j
3 “ The writings of the best authors among the ancients,” Montaigne tells us on one occasion, “ \ei"g fuh a"dTsofi1,nd?
tempt and carry me which way almost they will. He that I am reading seems, always to .have the most lorce, a
that every one in turn has reason, though they contradict one another.”—Book ii. chap. xu.
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
death, to translate it into French from the Spa¬
nish original. His request was accordingly
complied with; and the translation is refen ed
to hy Montaigne in the first edition of his Essays,
printed at Bourdeaux in 1580 ; hut the execu¬
tion of this filial duty seems to have produced
on Montaigne’s own mind very different effects
from what his father had anticipated.1
The principal aim of Sehonde’s hook, accord¬
ing to Montaigne, is to show that “ Christians
are in the wrong to make human reasoning the
basis of their belief, since the object of it is only
conceived hy faith, and hy a special inspiration
of the divine grace.” To this doctrine Mon¬
taigne professes to yield an implicit assent; and,
under the shelter of it, contrives to give free
vent to all the extravagances of scepticism. . The
essential distinction between the reason of man,
and the instincts of the lower animals, is at
great length, and with no inconsiderable inge¬
nuity, disputed; the powers of the human un¬
derstanding, in all inquiries, whether physical
or moral, are held up to ridicule; an universal
Pyrrhonism is recommended; and we are again
and again reminded, that “ the senses are the be¬
ginning and the end of all our knowledge.” Who¬
ever has the patience to peruse this chapter with
attention, will he surprised to find in it the ru¬
diments of a great part of the licentious philo¬
sophy of the eighteenth century; nor can he
fail to remark the address with which the author
avails himself of the language afterwards adopt¬
ed hy Bayle, Helvetius, and Hume:—“ That,
to be a philosophical sceptic, is the first step to¬
wards becoming a sound believing Christian.”8
It is a melancholy fact in ecclesiastical history,
that this insidious maxim should have been
sanctioned, in our times, by some theologians of
no common pretensions to orthodoxy ; who, in
direct contradiction to the words of Scripture,
have ventured to assert, that “ he who comes
to God must first believe that he is not.” Is
it necessary to remind these grave retailers of
Bayle’s sly and ironical sophistry, that every
argument for Christianity, drawn from its in¬
ternal evidence, tacitly recognises the authority
of human reason; and assumes, as the ultimate
criteria of truth and of falsehood, of right and
of wrong, certain fundamental articles of belief,
discoverable hy the light of Nature ?5
Charron is well known as the chosen friend
of Montaigne’s latter years, and as the confi¬
dential depositary of his philosophical senti¬
ments. Endowed with talents far inferior in
force and originality to those of his master, he
possessed, nevertheless, a much sounder and
more regulated judgment; and as his reputation,
notwithstanding the liberality of some of his
peculiar tenets, was high among the most re¬
spectable and conscientious divines of his own
church, it is far from improbable, that Mon¬
taigne committed to him the guardianship of his
posthumous fame, from motives similar to those
which influenced Pope, in selecting Warhurton
as his literary executor. The discharge of this
trust, however, seems to have done less good to
Montaigne than harm to Charron ; for while the
unlimited scepticism, and the indecent levities
1 The very few particulars known with respect to Sebonde have been collected by Bayle —See his Dictionary, Art.
Sebonde.
2 This expression is Mr Hume’s ; but the same proposition, in substance, is frequently repeated by the two other
writers, and is very fully enlarged upon by Bayle in the Illustration upon the Sceptics, annexed to his Dictionary.
* “ I once asked Adrian Turnebus," says Montaigne, “ what he thought of Sebonde’s treatise. The answer he made to
me was, That he believed it to be some extract from Thomas Aquinas, for that none but a genius like his was capable of
such ideas.”
I must not, however, omit to mention, that a very learned Protestant, Hugo Grotius, has expressed himself to his friend
Bignon not unfavourably of Sebonde’s intentions, although the terms in which he speaks of him are somewhat equivocal,
and imply but little satisfaction with the execution of his design. “ Non ignoras quantum excoluerint istam materiam
(argumentum soil, pro Religione Christiana) philosophica subtilitate Baimundus Sebundus, dialogorum varietate Ludovicus
Vives, maxima autem turn eruditione turn facundia vestras Philippus Mornaeus.” The authors of the Nouveau Dictionnaire
Historique (Lyons, 1804) have entered much more completely into the spirit and drift of Sebonde’s reasoning, when they
observe, “ Ce livre off re des singularites hardies, qui plurent dans le temps aux philosophes de ce siecle, et qui ne deplairoicnt
pas a ceux du notre."
It is proper to add, that I am acquainted with Sebonde only through the medium of Montaigne’s version, which does not
lay claim to the merit of strict fidelity; the translator himsehf having acknowledged, that he had given to the Spanish phi¬
losopher “ un accoutrement a la Franqoise, et qu’il l’a devetu de son port farouche et maintien barbaresque, de maniere
qu’il a mes-hui assez de fa^on pour se presenter en toute bonne compagnie.”
DISSERTATION FIRST.
53
of the former, were viewed by the zealots of
those days with a smile of tenderness and indul¬
gence, the slighter heresies of the latter were
marked with a severity the more rigorous and
unrelenting, that, in points of essential import¬
ance, they deviated so very little from the stand¬
ard of the Catholic faith. It is not easy to
guess the motives of this inconsistency; but
such we find from the fact to have been the
temper of religious bigotry, or, to speak more
correctly, of political religionism in all ages of
the world.1
As an example of Charron’s solicitude to pro¬
vide an antidote against the more pernicious er¬
rors of his friend, I shall only mention his inge¬
nious and philosophical attempt to reconcile,
with the moral constitution of human nature,
the apparent discordancy in the judgments of
different nations concerning right and wrong.
His argument on this point is in substance the
very same with that so well urged by Beattie,
in opposition to Locke’s reasonings against the
existence of innate practical principles. It is
difficult to say, whether, in this instance, the
coincidence between Montaigne and Locke, or
that between Charron and Beattie, be the more
remarkable.2
Although Charron has affected to give to his
work a systematical form, by dividing and sub¬
dividing it into books and chapters, it is in re¬
ality little more than an unconnected series of
essays on various topics, more or less distantly
related to the science of Ethics. On the powers
of the understanding he has touched but slight¬
ly ; nor has he imitated Montaigne, in anato¬
mizing, for the edification of the world, the pe¬
culiarities of his own moral character. It has
probably been owing to the desultory and po¬
pular style of composition common to both, that
so little attention has been paid to either by
those who have treated of the history of French
philosophy. To Montaigne’s merits, indeed, as
a lively and amusing essayist, ample justice has
been done; but his influence on the subsequent
habits of thinking among his countrymen re¬
mains still to be illustrated. He has done more,
perhaps, than any other author (I am inclined
to think with the most honest intentions), to in¬
troduce into men's houses (if I may borrow an
expression of Cicero) what is now called the
new philosophy,—a philosophy certainly very
different from that of Socrates. In the fashion¬
able world, he has, for more than two centuries,
maintained his place as the first of moralists; a
circumstance easily accounted for, when we at¬
tend to the singular combination, exhibited in
his writings, of a semblance of erudition, with
what Malebranche happily calls his air du
monde, and air cavalier.3 As for the graver and
less attractive Charron, his name would pro¬
bably before now have sunk into oblivion, had
it not been so closely associated, by the acci¬
dental events of his life, with the more cele¬
brated name of Montaigne.4
1 Montaigne, cet auteur charmant,
Tour-a-tour profond et frivole,
Dans son chateau paisiblement,
Loin de tout frondeur malevole,
Doutoit de tout impunement,
Et se moquoit tres librement
Des bavards fourres de Pecole.
Mais quand son eleve Charron,
Plus retenu, plus methodique,
De sagesse donna le^on,
II fut pres de pdrir, dit-on,
Par la haine the'ologique.
Voltaire, Epitre au President Hinault.
2 See Beattie’s Essay on Fable and Romance ; and Charron de la Sagesse, Liv. ii- c. 8. It may amuse the curious reader
also to compare the theoretical reasonings of Charron with a memoir in the Phil. Trans, for 1773, by Sir Roger Curtis,
vont&mmg some particulars teith respect to the country of Labrador. _ A . .
3 “ Ah 1’aimable homme, qu'il est de bonne compagnie ! C’est mon ancien ami; mais, a force d’etre ancien, il m est nou¬
veau.”—Madame de Sevic^e’.
4 Montaigne himself seems, from the general strain of his writings, to have had but little expectation of the posthumous
fame which he has so long continued to enjoy. One of his reflections on this head is so characteristical of the author as a
man, and, at the same time, affords so fine a specimen of the graphical powers of his now antiquated style, that I am tempted
to transcribe it in his own words : “ J’ecris mon livre a peu d’hommes et a peu d’annees; s’il q’eut ete une matiere de
duree, il 1’eut fallu commettre a un langage plus ferme. Scion la variation continuelle qui a suivi le notre jusqu’a cette
54
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
The preceding remarks lead me, by a natural
connection of ideas (to which I am here much
more inclined to attend than to the order of
dates), to another writer of the seventeenth cen¬
tury, whose influence over the literary and phi¬
losophical taste of France has been tar greater
than seems to be commonly imagined. I allude
to the Duke of La Rochefoucauld, author of the
Maxims and Moral Reflections.
Voltaire was, I believe, the first who ventur¬
ed to assign to La Rochefoucauld the pre-emi¬
nent rank which belongs to him among the French
classics. “ One of the works,” says he, “ which
contributed most to form the taste of the nation
to a justness and precision of thought and ex¬
pression, was the small collection of maxims by
Francis Duke of La Rochefoucauld. Although
there be little more than one idea in the book,
that self-love is the spring of all our actions, yet
this idea is presented in so great a variety of
forms, as to be always amusing. When it first
appeared, it was read with avidity; and it con¬
tributed, more than any other performance, since
the revival of letters, to improve the vivacity,
correctness, and delicacy of French composition.”
Another very eminent j udge of literary merit
(the late Dr Johnson) was accustomed to say
of La Rochefoucauld’s Maxims, that it was al¬
most the only book written by a man of fashion,
of which professed authors had reason to be jea¬
lous. Nor is this wonderful, when we consider
the unwearied industry of the very accomplish¬
ed writer, in giving to every part of it the high¬
est and most finished polish which his exquisite
taste could bestow. When he had committed a
maxim to paper, he was in use to circulate it
among his friends, that he might avail himself
of their critical animadversions ; and, if we may
credit Segrais, altered some of them no less than
thirty times, before venturing to submit them to
the public eye.
That the tendency of these maxims is, upon
the whole, unfavourable to morality, and that
they always leave a disagreeable impression on
the mind, must, I think, be granted. At the
same time, it may be fairly questioned, if the
motives of the author have in general been well
understood, either by his admirers or his oppo¬
nents. In affirming that self-love is the spring
of all our actions, there is no good reason for
supposing that he meant to deny the reality of
moral distinctions as a philosophical truth;—a
supposition quite inconsistent with his own fine
and deep remark, that hypocrisy is itself an ho¬
mage which vice renders to virtue. He states it
merely as a position which, in the course of his
experience as a man of the world, he had found
very generally verified in the higher classes of
society, and which he was induced to announce
without any qualification or restriction, in order
to give more force and poignancy to his satire
In adopting this mode of writing, he has un¬
consciously conformed himself, like many other
French authors, who have since followed his
example, to a suggestion which Aristotle has
stated with admirable depth and acuteness in
his Rhetoric. “ Sentences or apophthegms lend
much aid to eloquence. One reason of this is,
that they flatter the pride of the hearers, who
are delighted when the speaker, making use of
general language, touches upon opinions which
they had before known to be true in part. Thus,
a person who had the misfortune to live in a bad
neighbourhood, or to have worthless children,
would easily assent to the speaker who should
affirm, that nothing is more vexatious than to
have any neighbours; nothing more irrational
than to bring children into the world.”1 This
observation of Aristotle, while it goes far to ac¬
count for the imposing and dazzling effect of
these rhetorical exaggerations, ought to guard us
against the common and popular error of mis-
heure, qui peut esperer que sa forme presente soit en usage d’ici a cinquante ans ? il ecoule tous les jours de nos mains, et
depuis que je vis s’est altere de moitie. Nous disons qu’ilest a cette heure parfait: Autant en dit du sien chaque siecle.
C'est aux Ions et utiles ecrits de le clouer d eux, et ira sa fortune selon Ic credit de noire etat."
How completely have both the predictions in the last sentence been verified by the subsequent history of the French
language!
E^oua-i 6i (ynufta.i) ti; rout Xoyous (horjitav /MyaXtiv, //-'int ph S/a r'/iv (po^nxhrriru rut uK^ourut’ ^atooutn ydg, n; xudXov Xiyw*,
inru^y rut at ixetum xu.ru fj-toog t%outri.—‘H piv yuo yiui^r^ u<rri(> Vi^r.rui, xufoXov uuoipuvrlt hrn’ %alpovfi Si xuDoXou Xiyt/aiyov,
o xuru ftt^ot w^ou'roXaufpu-ioini ruyp^uvouin’ olov, u ns ytiroiri rv^ri xi^nfiivog n rixvois QuuXot;, uoroSt^atr av rev ilwovros, eiS'sv yuroylui
XciXtarturioeV >j, on oiillv vXidiwrioor rixtoTTotus.—ARIBT. Rhet. Lib. il. C. xxi.
The whole chapter is interesting and instructive, and shows how profoundly Aristotle had meditated the principles of
the rhetorical art.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
00
taking them for the serious and profound genera¬
lisations of science. As for La Rochefoucauld,
we know, from the best authorities, that, in pri¬
vate life, he was a conspicuous example of all
those moral qualities of which he seemed to deny
the existence; and that he exhibited, in this
respect, a striking contrast to the Cardinal de
Retz, who has presumed to censure him for his
want of faith in the reality of virtue.
In reading La Rochefoucauld, it should ne¬
ver be forgotten, that it was within the vortex
of a court he enjoyed his chief opportunities of
studying the world; and that the narrow and
exclusive circle in which he moved was not
likely to afford him the most favourable speci¬
mens of human nature in general. Of the
Court of Lewis XIV. in particular, we are told
by a very nice and reflecting observer (Madame
de la Fayette), that “ ambition and gallantry
were the soul, actuating alike both men and wo¬
men. So many contending interests, so many
different cabals were constantly at work, and in
all of these, women bore so important a part,
that love was always mingled with business, and
business with love. Nobody was tranquil or in¬
different. Every one studied to advance him¬
self by pleasing, serving, or ruining others. Idle¬
ness and languor were unknown, and nothing
was thought of but intrigues or pleasures.”
In the passage already quoted from Voltaire,
he takes notice of the effect of La Rochefou¬
cauld’s Maxims, in improving the style of French
composition. We may add to this remark, that
their effect has not been less sensible in vitiating
the tone and character of French philosophy, by
bringing into vogue those false and degrading
representations of human nature and of human
life, which have prevailed in that country, more
or less, for a century past. Mr Addison, in
one of the papers of the Taller, expresses his in¬
dignation at this general bias among the French
writers of his age. “ It is impossible,” he ob¬
serves, “ to read a passage in Plato or Tully,
and a thousand other ancient moralists, without
being a greater and better man for it. On the
contrary, I could never read any of our modish
French authors, or those of our own country,
who are the imitators and admirers of that nation,
without being, for some time, out of humour
with myself, and at every thing about me. Their
business is to depreciate human nature, and to
consider it under the worst appearances; they
give mean interpretations and base motives to
the worthiest actions. In short, they endeavour
to make no distinction between man and man,
or between the species of man and that of the
brutes.”1
It is very remarkable, that the censure here
bestowed by Addison on the fashionable French
wits of his time should be so strictly applicable
to Helvetius, and to many others of the most
admired authors whom France has produced in
our own day. It is still more remarkable to find
the same depressing spirit shedding its malig¬
nant influence on French literature, as early as
the time of La Rochefoucauld, and even of Mon¬
taigne ; and to observe how very little has been
done by the successors of these old writers, but
to expand into grave philosophical systems their
loose and lively paradoxes; disguising and for¬
tifying them by the aid of those logical princi¬
ples, to which the name and authority of Locke
have given so wide a circulation in Europe.
In tracing the origin of that false philosophy
on which the excesses of the French revolu¬
tionists have entailed such merited disgrace, it is
usual to remount no higher than to the profli¬
gate period of the Regency; but the seeds of its
most exceptionable doctrines had been sown in
that country at an earlier era, and were indebt¬
ed for the luxuriancy of their harvest, much
more to the political and religious soil where
they struck their roots, than to the skill or fore¬
sight of the individuals by whose hands they
were scattered.
I have united the names of Montaigne and of
La Rochefoucauld, because I consider their
writings as rather addressed to the world at
large, than to the small and select class of spe¬
culative students. Neither of them can be said
to have enriched the stock of human knowledge
by the addition of any one important general
1 Taller, No. 103. The last paper of the Taller was published in 17H ; and consequently the above passage must be
understood as referring to the modish tone of French philosophy prior to the death ot -Louis .XIV.
56
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
conclusion; but the maxims of both have ope¬
rated very extensively and powerfully on the
taste and principles of the higher orders all over
Europe, and predisposed them to give a welcome
reception to the same ideas, when afterwards
reproduced with the imposing appendage of lo¬
gical method, and of a technical phraseology.
The foregoing reflections, therefore, are not so
foreign as might at first be apprehended, to the
subsequent history of ethical and of metaphysi¬
cal speculation. It is time, however, now to
turn our attention to a subject far more inti¬
mately connected with the general progress of
human reason,—the philosophy of Descartes.
DESCARTES—GASSENDI—MALEBRAN CHE.
According to a late writer,1 whose literary
decisions (excepting where he touches on reli¬
gion or politics) are justly entitled to the high¬
est deference, Descartes has a better claim than
any other individual, to he regarded as the fa¬
ther of that spirit of free inquiry, which in mo¬
dern Europe has so remarkably displayed itself
in all the various departments of knowledge.
Of Bacon, he observes, “ that though he pos¬
sessed, in a most eminent degree, the genius of
philosophy, he did not unite with it the genius
of the sciences; and that the methods proposed
by him for the investigation of truth, consisting
entirely of precepts which he was unahle to ex¬
emplify, had little or no effect in accelerating
the rate of discovery.” As for Galileo, he re¬
marks, on the other hand, “ that his exclu¬
sive taste for mathematical and physical re¬
searches, disqualified him for communicating to
the general mind that impulse of which it stood
in need.”
“ This honour,” he adds, “ was reserved for
Descartes, who combined in himself the cha-
racteristical endowments of both his predecessors.
If, in the physical sciences, his march he less
sure than that of Galileo—if his logic he less
cautious than that of Bacon—yet the very te¬
merity of his errors was instrumental to the
progress of the human race. He gave activity
to minds which the circumspection of his rivals
could not awake from their lethargy. He call¬
ed upon men to throw off the yoke of authority,
acknowledging no influence hut what reason
should avow: And his call was obeyed by a
multitude of followers, encouraged by the bold¬
ness, and fascinated by the enthusiasm of their
leader.”
In these observations, the ingenious author has
rashly generalised a conclusion deduced from
the literary history of his own country. That
the works of Bacon were hut little read there till
after the publication of D’Alembert’s Preliminary
Discourse, is, I believe, an unquestionable fact;*
not that it necessarily follows from this, that, even
in France, no previous effect had been produced
by the labours of Boyle, of Newton, and of the
other English experimentalists, trained in Bacon’s
school. With respect to England, it is a fact not
less certain, that at no period did the philosophy of
Descartes produce such an impression on public
opinion, either in Physics or in Ethics, as to
give the slightest colour to the supposition, that it
contributed, in the most distant degree, to the
subsequent advances made by our countrymen
in these sciences. In Logic and Metaphysics,
indeed, the case was different. Here the writings
of Descartes did much; and if they had been
studied with proper attention, they might have
done much more. But of this part of their me¬
rits, Condorcet seems to have had no idea. His
eulogy, therefore, is rather misplaced than ex¬
cessive. He has extolled Descartes as the father
of Experimental Physics: He would have been
nearer the truth, if he had pointed him out as
the father of the Experimental Philosophy of
the Human Mind.
In bestowing this title on Descartes, I am far
from being inclined to compare him, in the num-
1 Condorcet.
2 One reason for this is well pointed out by D’Alembert. ” II n’y a que les chefs d-e secte en tout genre, dont les
ouvrages puissent avoir un certain eclat; Bacon n’a pas e'te du nombre, et la forme de sa philosophic s’y opposoit: el'e
dtoit trop sage pour e'tonner personne.” Disc. Prd.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
57
ber or importance of the- facts which he has re¬
marked concerning our intellectual powers, to
various other writers of an earlier date. I al¬
lude merely to his clear and precise conception
of that operation of the understanding (distin¬
guished afterwards in Locke’s Essay by the name
of Reflection), through the medium of which all
our knowledge of Mind is exclusively to he ob¬
tained. Of the essential subserviency of this
power to every satisfactory conclusion that can
be formed with respeet to the mental phenome¬
na, and of the futility of every theory which
would attempt to explain them by metaphors
borrowed from the material world, no other phi¬
losopher prior to Locke seems to have been ful¬
ly aware; and from the moment that these truths
were recognised as logical principles in the study
of mind, a new era commences in the history of
that branch of science. It will be necessary,
therefore, to allot to the illustration of this part
of the Cartesian philosophy a larger space than
the limits of my undertaking will permit me
to afford to the researches of some succeeding
inquirers, who may, at first sight, appear more
worthy of attention in the present times.
It has been repeatedly asserted by the Ma¬
terialists of the last century, that Descartes was
the first Metaphysician by whom the pure im¬
materiality of the human soul was taught; and
that the ancient philosophers, as well as the
schoolmen, went no farther than to consider
mind as the result of a material organisation, in
which the constituent elements approached to
evanescence in point of subtlety. Both of
these propositions I conceive to be totally un¬
founded. That many of the schoolmen, and
that the wisest of the ancient philosophers, when
they described the mind as a spirit, or as a spark
of celestial fire, employed these expressions, not
with any intention to materialise its essence, but
merely from want of more unexceptionable lan¬
guage, might be shown with demonstrative evi¬
dence, if this were the proper place for entering
into the discussion. But what is of more im¬
portance. to be attended to, on the present oc¬
casion, is the effect of Descartes’ writings in dis¬
entangling the logical principle above mentioned,
from the scholastic question about the nature of
mind, as contradistinguished from matter. It
mss. I. PART. i.
were indeed to be wished, that he had perceiv¬
ed still more clearly and steadily the essential
importance of keeping this distinction constant¬
ly in view; but he had at least the merit of il¬
lustrating, by his own example, in a far greater
degree than any of his predecessors, the possi¬
bility of studying the mental phenomena, with¬
out reference to any facts but those which rest
on the evidence of consciousness. The meta¬
physical question about the nature of mind he
seems to have considered as a problem, the so¬
lution of which was an easy corollary from these
facts, if distinctly apprehended; but still as a
problem, whereof it was possible that different
views might be taken by those who agreed in
opinion, as far as facts alone were concerned.
Of this a very remarkable example has since oc¬
curred in the case of Mr Locke, who, although
he has been at great pains to show, that the
power of reflection bears the same relation to the
study of the mental phenomena, which the power
of observation bears to the study of the material
world, appears, nevertheless, to have been far
less decided than Descartes with respect to the
essential distinction between Mind and Matter ;
and has even gone so far as to hazard the un¬
guarded proposition, that there is no absurdity
in supposing the Deity to have superadded to
the other qualities of matter the power of thinking.
His scepticism, however, on this point, did not
prevent his good sense from perceiving, with the
most complete conviction, the indispensable ne¬
cessity of abstracting from the analogy of mat¬
ter, in studying the laws of our intellectual frame.
The question about the nature or essence of
the soul, has been, in all ages, a favourite sub¬
ject of discussion among Metaphysicians, from
its supposed connection with the argument in
proof of its immortality. In this light it has
plainly been considered by both parties in the
dispute; the one conceiving, that if Mind could
be shown to have no quality in common with
Matter, its dissolution was physically impossible;
the other, that if this assumption could be dis¬
proved, it would necessarily follow, that the whole
man must perish at death. For the last of these
opinions Dr Priestley and many other specula¬
tive theologians have of late very zealously con¬
tended; flattering themselves, no doubt, with
H
58
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the idea, that they were thus preparing a triumph
for their own peculiar schemes of Christianity.
Neglecting, accordingly, all the presumptions
for a future state, afforded hy a comparion of
the course of human affairs with the moral judg¬
ments and moral feelings of the human heart;
and overlooking, with the saifie disdain, the
presumptions arising from the narrow sphere of
human knowledge, when compared with the in¬
definite improvement of which our intellectual
powers seem to he susceptible, this acute hut
superficial writer attached himself exclusively
to the old and hackneyed pneumatological argu¬
ment ; tacitly assuming as a principle, that the
future prospects of man depend entirely on the
determination of a physical problem, analogous
to that which was then dividing chemists about
the existence or non-existence of Phlogiston.
In the actual state of science, these speculations
might well have been spared. Where is the
sober metaphysician to he found, who now
speaks of the immortality of the soul as a logi¬
cal consequence of its immateriality ; instead of
considering it as depending on the will of that
Being by whom it was at first called into exist¬
ence ? And, on the other hand, is it not uni¬
versally admitted hy the best philosophers, that
whatever hopes the light of nature encourages
beyond the present scene, rest solely (like all
our other anticipations of future events) on the
general tenor and analogy of the laws hy which
we perceive the universe to he governed ? The
proper use of the argument concerning the im¬
materiality of mind, is not to establish any posi¬
tive conclusion as to its destiny hereafter; hut
to repel the reasonings alleged hy materialists,
as proofs that its annihilation must he the ob¬
vious and necessary effect of the dissolution of
the body.1
I thought it proper to state this consideration
pretty fully, lest it should he supposed that the
logical method recommended by Descartes for
studying the phenomena of mind, has any ne¬
cessary dependence on his metaphysical opinion
concerning its being and properties, as a separate
substance.2 Between these two parts of his
system, however, there is, if not a demonstrative
connection, at least a natural and manifest af¬
finity ; inasmuch as a steady adherence to his
logical method (or, in other words, the habitual
exercise of patient reflection), hy accustoming
us to break asunder the obstinate associations
to which materialism is indebted for the early
hold it is apt to take of the fancy, gradually and
insensibly predisposes us in favour of his me¬
taphysical conclusion. It is to he regretted,
that, in stating this conclusion, his commentators
should so frequently make use of the word spiri¬
tuality ; for which I do not recollect that his
own works afford any authority. The proper
expression is immateriality, conveying merely a
negative idea; and, of consequence, implying
nothing more than a rejection of that hypothesis
concerning the nature of Mind, which the scheme
of materialism so gratuitously, yet so dogmati¬
cally assumes.3
The power of Reflection, it is well known, is
the last of our intellectual faculties that unfolds
itself; and, in hy far the greater number of in¬
dividuals, it never unfolds itself in any consider¬
able degree. It is a fact equally certain, that,
long before the period of life when this power
begins to exercise its appropriate functions, the
understanding is already preoccupied with a
1 « w e shall here he content,” says the learned John Smith of Cambridge, “ with that sober thesis of Plato, in his
Timoeus, who attributes the perpetuation of all substances to the benignity and liberality of the Creator; whom he there¬
fore brings in thus speaking, itrri atidvaroi ov'bi aXvroi, tt.r.X. You are not of yourselves immortal nor indissoluble, but would
relapse and slide back from that being which I have given you, should I withdraw the influence of my own power from you;
but yet you shall hold your immortality by a patent from myself.”—(Select Discourses, Cambridge, 1660.) I quote this pas¬
sage from one of the oldest partisans of Descartes among the English philosophers.
Descartes himself is said to have been of a different opinion. “ On a ete etonnd,” says Thomas, cc que dans ses Medi¬
tations Metaphysiques, Descartes n’ait point parle de 1’immortalite de fame. Mais il nous apprend lui-meme par une de ses
lettres, qu ayant etabli clairement, dans cet ouvrage, la distinction de 1’ame et de la matiere, il suivoit necessairement de
cette distinction, que fame par sa nature ne pouvoit perir avec le corps.”—Eloge de Descartes. Note 21.
2 I employ the scholastic word substance, in conformity to the phraseology of Descartes; but I am fully aware of the
strong objections to which it is liable, not only as a wide deviation from popular use, which has appropriated it to things
material and tangible, but as implying a greater degree of positive knowledge concerning the nature of mind, than our fa¬
culties are fitted to attain.—For some further remarks on this point. See Note I.
3 See Note K.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
59
chaos of opinions, notions, impressions, and as¬
sociations, bearing on the most important ob¬
jects of human inquiry; not to mention the in¬
numerable sources of illusion and error con¬
nected with the use of a vernacular language,
learned in infancy by rote, and identified with
the first processes of thought and perception.
The consequence is, that when man begins to
reflect, he finds himself (if I may borrow an
allusion of M. Turgot’s) lost in a labyrinth, in¬
to which he had been led blindfold.1 To the
same purpose, it was long ago complained of by
Bacon, “ that no one has yet been found of so
constant and severe a mind, as to have de¬
termined and tasked himself utterly to abolish
theories and common notions, and to apply his
intellect, altogether smooth and even, to par¬
ticulars anew. Accordingly, that human reason
which we have, is a kind of medley and unsorted
collection, from much trust and much accident,
and the childish notions which we first drank
in. Whereas, if one of ripe age and sound
senses, and a mind thoroughly cleared, should
apply himself freshly to experiment and par¬
ticulars, of him were better things to be hoped.”
What Bacon has here recommended, Des¬
cartes attempted to execute ; and so exact is the
coincidence of his views on this fundamental
point with those of his predecessor, that it is with
difficulty I can persuade myself that he had
never read Bacon’s works. * In the prosecution
of this undertaking, the first steps of Descartes
are peculiarly interesting and instructive; and
it is these alone which merit our attention at
present. As for the details of his system, they
are now curious only as exhibiting an amusing
contrast to the extreme rigour of the principle
from which the author sets out; a contrast so
very striking, as fully to justify the epigram¬
matic saying of D’Alembert, that “ Descartes
began with doubting of every thing, and ended
in believing that he had left nothing unexplained.”
Among the various articles of common belief
which Descartes proposed to subject to a severe
scrutiny, he enumerates particularly, the con¬
clusiveness of mathematical demonstration; the
existence of God; the existence of the material
world; and even the existence of his own body.
The only thing that appeared to him certain and
incontrovertible, was his own existence; by
which he repeatedly reminds us, we are to un¬
derstand merely the existence of his mind, ab¬
stracted from all consideration of the material
organs connected with it. About every other
proposition, he conceived, that doubts might
reasonably be entertained; but to suppose the
non-existence of that which thinks, at the very
moment it is conscious of thinking, appeared to
him a contradiction in terms. From this single
postulatum, accordingly, he took his departure ;
resolved to admit nothing as a philosophical
truth, which could not be deduced from it by a
chain of logical reasoning.5
Having first satisfied himself of his own ex¬
istence, his next step was to inquire, how far
his perceptive and intellectual faculties were en¬
titled to credit. For this purpose, he begins
with offering a proof of the existence and at¬
tributes of God;—truths which he conceived to *
be necessarily involved in the idea he was able
to form of a perfect, self-existent, and eternal
being. His reasonings on this point it would
be useless to state. It is sufficient to observe,
that they led him to conclude, that God cannot
possibly be supposed to deceive his creatures;
and therefore, that the intimations of our senses,
and the decisions of our reason, are to be trusted
to with entire confidence, wherever they afford
us clear and distinct ideas of their respective ob¬
jects.4
1 “ Quand I’homme a voulu se replier sur lui-merae, il s’est trouve dans un labyrinthe, ou il eto-t entrd .es yeux
bandes.”—CEuvres de Turgot, Tom. II. p. 261.
2 See Note L.
3 “ Sic autem rejicientes ilia omnia, de quibus aliquo modo possumus dubitare, ac etiam falsa esse fingentes, facile quidem
supponimus nullum esse Deum, nullum coelum, nulla corpora; nosque etiam ipsos, non habere manus, nec pedes, nec
denique ullum corpus : non autem ideo nos qui talia cogitamus nihil esse: repugnat enim, ut putemus id quod cogitat, ep
ipso tempore quo cogitat, non existere. Ac proinde haec cognitio, ego cogito, ergo sum, est omnium prima et certissima,
quse cuilibet ordine philosophanti occurrat.”—Princip. Philos. Pars I. § 7* t
4 The substance of Descartes’ argument on these fundamental points, is thus briefly recapitulated by himself in the
conclusion of his third Meditation: “ Dum in meipsum mentis aciem converto, non modo intelligo me esse rem in-
completam, et ab alio dependentem, remque ad majora et meliora indefinite aspixantem, sed simul etiam intelligo ilium, a
60
preliminary dissertations.
As Descartes conceived the existence of God
(next to the existence of his own mind) to he
the most indisputable of all truths, and rested
his confidence in the conclusions of human rea¬
son entirely on his faith in the divine veracity,
it is not surprising that he should have rejected
the argument from final causes, as supeifiuous
and unsatisfactory. To have availed himself of
its assistance would not only have betrayed a
want of confidence in what he professed to re¬
gard as much more certain than any mathema¬
tical theorem; hut would obviously have ex¬
posed him to the charge of first appealing to
the divine attributes in proof of the authority
of his faculties; and afterwards, of appealing
to these faculties, in proof of the existence of
God.
It is wonderful that it should have escaped
the penetration of this most acute thinker, that
a vicious circle of the same description is involved
in every appeal to the intellectual powers, in
proof of their own credibility ; and that unless
this credibility he assumed as unquestionable, the
farther exercise of human reason is altogether
nugatory. The evidence for the existence of
God seems to have appeared to Descartes too
irresistible and overwhelming, to he subjected
to those logical canons which apply to all the
other conclusions of the understanding.1
Extravagant and hopeless as these prelimi¬
nary steps must now appear, they had never¬
theless an obvious tendency to direct the atten¬
tion of the author, in a singular degree, to the
phenomena of thought; and to train him to
those habits of abstraction from external objects,
which, to the bulk of mankind, are next to im¬
possible. In this way he was led to perceive,
with the evidence of consciousness, that the at¬
tributes of Mind were still more clearly and
distinctly knowable than those of Matter; and
that, in studying the former, so far from at¬
tempting to explain them by analogies borrowed
from the latter, our chief aim ought to be, to
banish as much as possible from the fancy every
analogy, and even every analogical expression,
which, by inviting the attention abroad, might
divert it from its proper business at home. In
one word, that the only right method of philo¬
sophising on this subject was comprised in the
old stoical precept (understood in a sense some¬
what different from that originally annexed to
it) nec te quoesiveris extra. A just conception of
this rule, and a steady adherence to its spirit,
constitutes the ground-work of what is properly
called the Experimental Philosophy of the Hu¬
man Mind. It is thus that all our facts relating
to Mind must he ascertained; and it is only
upon facts thus attested by our own conscious¬
ness, that any just theory of Mind can he
reared.
Agreeably to these views, Descartes was, I
think, the first who clearly saw that our idea of
Mind is not direct, but relative;—relative to the
various operations of which we are conscious.
What am I ? he asks, in his second Meditation:
A thinking being,—that is, a being doubting,
quo pendeo, majora ista omnia non indefinite et potentia tantum, sed reipsa infinite in se habere, atque ita Deum esse;
totaque vis argumenti in eo est, quod agnoscam fieri non posse ut existam tabs naturae qualis sum, nempe ideam Dei in
me habens, nisi revera Deus etiam existeret, Deus, inquam, file idem cujus idea in me est, hoc est, habens omnes illas
perfectiones quas ego non comprehendere, sed quocunque modo attingere cogitatione possum, et nullis plane defectibus
obnoxius. Ex his satis patet, ilium fallacem esse non posse : omnem enim fraudem et deceptionem a defectu aliquo pen-
dere lumine natural! manifestum est.”
The above argument for the existence of God (very improperly called by some foreigners an argument a priori), was
long considered by the most eminent men in Europe as quite demonstrative. For my own part, although I do not think
that it is bv any means so level to the apprehension of common inquirers, as the argument from the marks of design every¬
where manifested in the universe, I am still less inclined to reject it as altogether unworthy of attention. It is far from
being so metaphysically abstruse as the reasonings of Newton and Clarke, founded on our conceptions of space and of time;
nor would it appear, perhaps, less logical amd conclusive than that celebrated demonstration, if it were properly unfolded,
and stated in more simple and popular terms. The two arguments, however, are in no respect exclusive of each other;
and I have always thought, that, by combining them together, a proof of the poit.t in question might be formed, more im¬
pressive and luminous than is to be obtained from either, when stated apart.
1 How painful is it to recollect, that the philosopher who had represented his faith in the veracity of God, as the sole
foundation of his confidence in the demonstrations i f mathematics, was accused and persecuted by his contemporaries as an
atheist; and that, too, in the same country (Holland), where, for more than half a century after his death, his doctrines
were to be taught in all the universities with a blind idolatry ! A zeal without knowledge, and the influence of those earth¬
ly passions, from w'hich even Protestant divines are not always exempted, may, it is to be hoped, go far to account for this
inconsistency and injustice, without adopting the uncharitable insinuation of D'Alembert: “ Malgre toute la sagacite qu’il
avoit employe'e pour prouver Pexistence de Dieu, il fut accuse de la nier par des mhiistres, qui pent-tire ne la croyoient pas.'
DISSERTATION FIRST.
61
knowing, affirming, denying, consenting, refu¬
sing, susceptible of pleasure and of pain.1 Of
all these things I might have had complete ex¬
perience, without any previous acquaintance
with the qualities and laws of matter; and
therefore it is impossible that the study of mat¬
ter can avail me aught in the study of my¬
self. This, accordingly, Descartes laid down
as a first principle, that nothing comprehensible
by the imagination can be at all subservient to the
knowledge of Mind; and that the sensible images
involved in all our common forms of speaking
concerning its operations, are to be guarded
against with the most anxious care, as tending
to confound, in our apprehensions, two classes
of phenomena, which it is of the last importance
to distinguish accurately from each other.2
To those who are familiarly acquainted with
the writings of Locke, and of the very few
among his successors who have thoroughly en¬
tered into the spirit of his philosophy, the fore¬
going observations may not appear to possess
much either of originality or of importance; but
when first given to the world, they formed the
greatest step ever made in the science of Mind, by
a single individual. What a contrast do they ex¬
hibit, not only to the discussions of the school¬
men, but to the analogical theories of Hobbes
at the very same period! and how often have
they been since lost sight of, notwithstanding
the clearest speculative conviction of their truth
and importance, by Locke himself, and by the
greatest part of his professed followers ! Had
they been duly studied and understood by Mr
Horne Tooke, they would have furnished him
Avith a key for solving those etymological riddles,
which, although mistaken by many of his con¬
temporaries for profound philosophical discove¬
ries, derive, in fact, the whole of their mystery,
from the strong bias of shallow reasoners to re¬
lapse into the same scholastic errors, from which
Descartes, Locke, Berkeley, Hume, and Reid,
have so successfully laboured to emancipate the
mind.
If any thing can add to our admiration of a
train of thought manifesting in its author so un¬
exampled a triumph over the strongest prejudices
of sense, it is the extraordinary circumstance of
its having first occurred to a young man, who
had spent the years commonly devoted to aca¬
demical study, amid the dissipation and tumult
of camps.5 Nothing could make this conceiv¬
able, but the very liberal education which he
had previously received under the Jesuits, at the
college of La Fleche;4 where, we are told, that
while yet a boy, he was so distinguished by
1 “ Non sum compages ilia membrorum, quae corpus humanum appellatui ; non sum etiam tenuis aliquis aer istis mem-
bris infusus ; non ventus, non ignis, non vapor, non halitus Quid igitur sum ? res cogitans ; quid est hoc ? nempe du-
bitans, intelligens, affirmans, negans, volens, nolens,” &c.—Med. Sec. , .
2 “ Itaque cognosco, nihil eorum quae possum Imaginatione comprehendere, ad hanc quam de me habeo notitiam perti-
nere ; mentemque ab illis diligentissime esse avocandam, ut suam ipsa naturam quam distinctissime percipiat.—-/Aid. A
few sentences before, Descartes explains with precision in what sense Imagination is here to be understood. ‘ .Nihil ahud
est imaginari quam rei corporeae figuram seu imaginem contemplari.” u c t» * a
The following extracts from a book published at Cambridge in 1G60 (precisely ten years after the death ot Descartes;,
while they furnish a useful comment on some of the above remarks, may serve to show, how completely the spin o e
Cartesian philosophy of Mind had been seized even then, by some of the members of that university.
“ The souls of men exercising themselves first of all xivwru wecfiaTi*.*, as the Greek philosopher expresseth himse i mere y
by a progressive kind of motion, spending themselves about bodily and material acts, and conversing only with sens! e ing8.
they are apt to acquire such deep stamps of material phantasms to themselves, that they cannot imagine leir own ung
to be any other than material and divisible, though of a fine ethereal nature. It is not possible for us well to mow w la our
souls are, but only by their */»»«« xux.klx.cti, their circular or reflex motions, and converse with themselves, w ic can on y
steal from them their own secrets.”—Smith’s Select Discourses, p. 65, 66. . , , ... ro
“If we reflect but upon our own souls, how manifestly do the notions of reason, freedom, perception, an e i e, 0 ei
themselves to us, whereby we may know a thousand times more distinctly what our souls are than what our 0 leh are' or
the former, we know by an immediate converse with ourselves, and a distinct sense of their operations, w ereas a our
knowledge of‘the body is little better than merely historical, which we gather up by scraps and piecemea , om more
doubtful and uncertain experiments which we make of them; but the notions which we have of a min , «. e. some ing
within us that thinks, apprehends, reasons, and discourses, are so clear and distinct from all those no ions w uc we can
fasten upon a body, that we can easily conceive that if all body-being in the world were desti oyed, yet we mig en as
well subsist as now we do ”—Ibid. p. 98. „ , Ar •
3 “ Descartes porta les armes, d’abord en Hollande, sous le cdlebre Maurice de Nassau ; de-la en A1 emagne, so *
milien de Baviere, au commencement de la guerre de trente ans. II passa ensuite au service de hmpereur er man .
pour voir de plus pres les troubles de la Hongrie. On croit aussi, qu’au siege de la Rochelle, il combat i , comme
taire, dans une bataille contre la flotte Angloise.”—Thomas, Eloge de Descartes, Note 8.
When Descartes quitted the profession of arms, he had arrived at the age of twenty-five.
4 It is a curious coincidence, that it was in the same village of La Flecfle that Mr Hume fixed his residence,
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
G2
habits of deep meditation, that he went among
his companions by the name of the Philosopher.
Indeed, it is only at that early age, that such
habits are to be cultivated with complete suc¬
cess.
The glory, however, of having pointed out tc
his successors the true method of studying the
theory of Mind, is almost all that can be claimed
by Descartes in logical and metaphysical science.
Many important hints, indeed, may be gleaned
from his works ; but, on the whole, he has added
very little to our knowledge of human nature.
Nor will this appear surprising, when it is re¬
collected, that he aspired to accomplish a simi¬
lar revolution in all the various departments of
physical knowledge;—not to mention the time
and thought he must have employed in those
mathematical researches, which, however lightly
esteemed by himself, have been long regarded
as the most solid basis of his fame.1
Among the principal articles of the Cartesian
philosophy, which are now incorporated with
our prevailing and most accredited doctrines,
the following seem to me to be chiefly entitled
to notice:
1. His luminous exposition of the common
logical error of attempting to define words
which express notions too simple to admit of
analysis. Mr Locke claims this improvement
as entirely his own; but the merit of it un¬
questionably belongs to Descartes, although it
must be owned that he has not always sufficient¬
ly attended to it in his own researches.3
2. His observations on the different classes of
our prejudices—particularly on the errors to
which we are liable in consequence of a careless
use of language as the instrument of thought.
The greater part of these observations^ if not
the whole, had been previously hinted at by
Bacon; but they are expressed by Descartes
with greater precision and simplicity, and in a
style better adapted to the taste of the present
age.
3. The paramount and indisputable authority
which, in all our reasonings concerning the hu¬
man mind, he ascribes to the evidence of con¬
sciousness. Of this logical principle he has
availed himself, with irresistible force, in refu¬
ting the scholastic sophisms against the liberty
of human actions, drawn from the prescience of
the Deity, and other considerations of a theolo¬
gical nature.
4. The most important, however, of all his
improvements in metaphysics, is the distinction
which he has so clearly and so strongly drawn
between the primary and the secondary qualities
of matter. This distinction was not unknown
to some of the ancient schools of philosophy in
Greece ; but it was afterwards rejected by Aris¬
totle, and by the schoolmen ; and it was reserv¬
ed for Descartes to place it in such a light, as
(with the exception of a very few sceptical or
rather paradoxical theorists) to unite the opi¬
nions of all succeeding inquirers. For this step,
so apparently easy, but so momentous in its con¬
sequences, Descartes was not indebted to any
long or difficult processes of reasoning; but to
those habits of accurate and patient attention to
the operations of his own mind, which, from his
early years, it was the great business of his life
to cultivate. It may be proper to add, that the
epithets primary and secondary, now universally
employed to mark the distinction in question,
were first introduced by Locke ; a circumstance
posing his Treatise of Human Nature. Is it not probable, that he was partly attracted to it, by associations similar to
those which presented themselves to the fancy of Cicero, when he visited the walks of the Academy ?
In the beginning of Descartes’ dissertation upon Method, he has given a very interesting account of the pursuits which
occupied his youth, and of the considerations which suggested to him the bold undertaking of reforming philosophy.
1 Such too is the judgment pronounced by D’Alembert. “ Les Mathematiques, dont Descartes semble avoir fait assez
peu de cas, font neanmoins aujourd’hui la partie la plus solide et la moins contestee de sa gloire.” To this he adds a very in¬
genious reflection on the comparative merits of Descartes, considered as a geometer and as a philosopher. “ Comme philo-
sophe, il a peut-etre dtd aussi grand, mais il n’a pas dte' si heureux. La Geometrie, qui par la nature de son objet doit
toujours gagner sans perdre, ne pouvoit manquer, dtant mani^e par un aussi grand genie de faire des progres tres-sensibles
et apparens pour tout le monde. La Philosophie se trouvoit dans un etat bien different, tout y e'toit a commencer;
et que ne content point les premiers pas en tout genre ! le merite de les faire dispense de celui d'en faire de grands.''1 Disc. Prelim.
The names ot simple ideas are not capable of any definitions; the names of all complex ideas are. It has not, that I
know, been yet observed by any body, what words are, and what are not capable of being defined.” (Locke’s Essay,,
Book m. chap. iv. § iv.)—Compare this with the Principia of Descartes, 1.10.; and with Lord Stair’s Philologia Nova Expe-
nmentalis, pp. 9 and 79, printed at Leyden in 1686.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
63
which may have contributed to throw into the
shade the merits of those inquirers who had pre¬
viously struck into the same path.
As this last article of the Cartesian system
has a close connection with several of the most
refined conclusions yet formed concerning the
intellectual phenomena, I feel it due to the me¬
mory of the author, to pause for a few moments,
in order to vindicate his claim to some leading
ideas, commonly supposed by the present race
of metaphysicians to be of much later origin. In
doing so, I shall have an opportunity, at the
same time, of introducing one or two remarks,
which, I trust, will be useful in clearing up the
obscurity, which is allowed by some of the ablest
followers of Descartes and Locke, still to hang
over this curious discussion.
I have elsewhere observed, that Descartes has
been very generally charged by the writers of
the last century, with a sophistical play upon
words in his doctrine concerning the non-exist¬
ence of secondary qualities; while, in fact, he
was the first person by whom the fallacy of this
scholastic paralogism was exposed to the world.1
In proof of this, it might be sufficient to refer to
his own statement, in the first part of the Prin-
cipia;2 but, for a reason which will immediate¬
ly appear, I think it more advisable, on this occa¬
sion, to borrow the words of one of his earliest and
ablest commentators. “ It is only (says Father
Malebranche) since the time of Descartes, that
to those confused and indeterminate questions,
whether fire is hot, grass green, and sugar sweet,
philosophers are in use to reply, by distinguish¬
ing the equivocal meaning of the words express¬
ing sensible qualities. If by heat, cold, and
savour, you understand such and such a dispo¬
sition of parts, or some unknown motion of
sensible qualities, then fire is hot, grass green,
and sugar sweet. But if by heat and other
qualities you understand what I feel by fire,
what I see in grass, &c. fire is not hot, nor grass
green ; for the heat I feel, and the colours I see,
are only in the soul.”5 It is surprising how this,
and other passages to the same purpose in Male¬
branche, should have escaped the notice of Dr
Reid; for nothing more precise on the ambigui¬
ty in the names of secondary qualities is to be
found in his own works. It is still more sur¬
prising that Buffier, who might have been ex¬
pected to have studied with care the speculations
of his illustrious countryman, should have di¬
rectly charged, not only Descartes, .but Male-
branche, with maintaining a paradox, which
they were at so much pains to banish from the
schools of philosophy.4
The important observations of Descartes upon
this subject, made their way into England very
soon after his death. They are illustrated at
considerable length, and with great ingenuity,
by Glanville, in his Scepsis Scientifica, published
1 “ Descartes, Malebranche, and Locke, revived the distinction between primary and secondary qualities. But they
made the secondary qualities mere sensations, and the primary ones resemblances of our sensations. They maintained
that colour, sound, and heat, are not any thing in bodies, but sensations of the mind. The paradoxes of these philo¬
sophers were only an abuse of words. For when they maintain, as an important modern discovery, that there is no heat in
the fire, they mean no more than that the fire does not feel heat, which every one knew before.”—Reid’s Inquiry, chap,
v. sect. viii.
2 See sections Ixix. Ixx. Ixxi. The whole of these three paragraphs is highly interesting; but I shall only quote two
sentences, which are fully sufficient to show, that, in the above observations, I have done Descartes no more than strict
justice.
“ Patet itaque in re idem esse, cum dicimus nos percipere colores in objectis, ac si diceremus nos percipere aliquid in
objectis, quod quidem quid sit ignoramus, sed a quo efficitur in nobis ipsis sensus quidam valde manifestus et perspicuus,
qm vocatur sensus colorum Cum vero putamus nos percipere colores in objectis, etsi revera nesciamus quidnam
sit quod tunc nomine coloris appellamus, nec ullam similitudinem intelligere possimus, inter colorem quem supponimus
esse in objectis, et ilium quem experimur esse in sensu, quia tamen hoc ipsum non advertimus, et multa alia sunt, ut mag¬
nitude, figura, numerus, &c. quae clare percipimus not aliter a nobis sentiri vel intelligi, quam ut sunt, aut saltern esse
possunt in objectis, facile, in eum errorem delabimur, ut judicemus id, quod in objectis vocamus colorem, esse quid omnino
simile color! quem sentimus, atque ita ut id quod nullo modo percipimus, a nobis clare percipi arbitraremur.”
3 Recherche de la Verite, Livre vi. chap. ii.
4 “ J’ai admire souvent que d’aussi grands hommes que Descartes et Malebranche, avec leurs sectateurs, fissent valoir,
Comme une rare decouverte de leur philosophie, que la chaleur etoit dans nous-memes et nullement dans le feu ; au lieu que le
commun des hommes trouvoient que la chaleur etoit dans le feu aussi Men que dans nous Mais en ce fameux debat, de
quoi s’agit-il ? Uniquement de 1’imperfection du langage, qui causoit une idee confuse par le mot de chaleur, ce mot expri-
mant egalement deux choses, qui k fa verite ont quelque rapport ou analogic, et pourtant qui sont tres diffthrentes; savoir,
L le sentiment de chaleur qui nous eprouvons en nous ; 2. la disposition qui est dans le feu a produire en nous ce senti¬
ment de chaleur.”—Cours de Sciences, par le Pere Buffier, p. 819. A Paris, 1732.
64
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
about thirteen years before Malebranche s Search
after Truth. So slow, however, is the progress
of good sense, when it has to struggle against
the prejudices of the learned, that, as lately as
1713, the paradox so clearly explained and re¬
futed by Descartes, appears to have kept some
footing in the English universities. In a paper
of the Guardian, giving an account of a visit
paid by Jack Lizard to his mother and sisters,
after a year and half’s residence at Oxford, the
following precis is given of his logical attain¬
ments. “ For the first week (it is said) Jack
dealt wholly in paradoxes. It was a common
jest with him to pinch one of his sister’s lap
dogs, and afterwards prove he could not feel it.
When the girls were sorting a set of knots, he
would demonstrate to them that all the ribbons
were of the same colour ; or rather, says Jack,
of no colour at all. My Lady Lizard herself,
though she was not a little pleased with her son’s
improvements, was one day almost angry with
him ; for having accidentally burnt her fingers
as she was lighting the lamp for her tea-pot, in
the midst of her anguish, Jack laid hold of the
opportunity to instruct her, that there was no
such thing as heat in the fire.”
This miserable quibble about the non-exist¬
ence of secondary qualities, never could have
attracted the notice of so many profound think¬
ers, had it not been for a peculiar difficulty con¬
nected with our notions of colour, of which I do
not know anyone English philosopher who seems
to have been sufficiently aware. . That this qua¬
lity belongs to the same class with sounds, smells,
tastes, heat and cold, is equally admitted by the
partisans of Descartes and of Locke ; and must,
indeed, appear an indisputable fact to all who
are capable of reflecting accurately on the sub¬
ject. But still, between colour and the other
qualities now mentioned, a very important dis¬
tinction must be allowed to exist. In the case
of smells, tastes, sounds, heat and cold, every
person must immediately perceive, that his senses
give him only a relative idea of the external
quality; in other words, that they only convey
to him the knowledge of the existence of cer¬
tain properties or powers in external objects,
which fit them to produce certain sensations in
his mind; and, accordingly,nobody ever hesitat¬
ed a moment about the truth of this part of the
Cartesian philosophy, in so far as these qualities
alone are concerned. But, in the application of
the same doctrine to colour, I have conversed
with many, with whom I found it quite in vain
to argue; and this, not from any defect in their
reasoning powers, but from their incapacity to
reflect steadily on the subjects of their conscious¬
ness ; or rather, perhaps, from their incapacity
to separate, as objects of the understanding, two
things indissolubly combined by early and con¬
stant habit, as objects of the imagination. The
silence of modern metaphysicians on this head
is the more surprising, as D’Alembert long ago
invited their attention to it as one of the most
wonderful phenomena in the history of the hu¬
man mind. (( The bias we acquire,” I quote
his own words, “ in consequence of habits con¬
tracted in infancy, to refer to a substance ma¬
terial and divisible, what really belongs to a sub¬
stance spiritual and simple, is a thing well
worthy of the attention of metaphysicians. No¬
thing,” he adds, “ is perhaps more extraordi¬
nary, in the operations of the mind, than to see
it transport its sensations out of itself, and to
spread them, as it were, over a substance to
which they cannot possibly belong.”—It would
be difficult to state the fact in question in terms
more brief, precise, and perspicuous.
That the illusion, so well described in the
above quotation, was not overlooked by Des¬
cartes and Malebranche, appears unquestionable,
from their extreme solicitude to reconcile it with
that implicit faith, which, from religious con¬
siderations, they conceived to be due to the testi¬
mony of those faculties with which our Maker
has endowed us. Malebranche, in particular, is
at pains to distinguish between the sensation, and
the judgment combined with it. “ The sensa¬
tion never deceives us ; it differs in no respect
from what we conceive it to be. The judgment,
too, is natural, or rather (says Malebranche),
it is only a sort of compound sensation f but this
1 He would have expressed himself more accurately, if he had said, that the judgment is indissolubly combined with the
sensation ; but his meaning is sufficiently obvious.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
65
judgment leads us into no error with respect to
philosophical truth. The moment we exercise
our reason, we see the fact in its true light, and
can account completely for that illusive appear¬
ance which it presents to the imagination.”
Not satisfied, however, with this solution of
the difficulty, or rather perhaps apprehensive
that it might not appear quite satisfactory to
some others, he has called in to his assistance
the doctrine of original sin; asserting, that all
the mistaken judgments which our constitution
leads us to form concerning external objects and
their qualities, are the consequences of the fall
of our first parents; since which adventure (as it
is somewhat irreverently called by Dr Beattie),
it requires the constant vigilance of reason to
guard against the numberless tricks and im¬
postures practised upon us by our external
senses.1 In another passage, Malebranche ob¬
serves very beautifully (though not very con¬
sistently with his theological argument on the
same point), that our senses being given us for
the preservation of our bodies, it was requisite
for our well-being, that we should judge as we
do of sensible qualities. <£ In the case of the
sensations of pain and of heat, it was much
more advantageous that we should seem to feel
them in those parts of the body which are im¬
mediately affected by them, than that we should
associate them with the external objects by which
they are occasioned; because pain and heat,
having the power to injure our members, it was
necessary that we should be warned in what
place to apply the remedy; whereas colours not
being likely, in ordinary cases, to hurt the eye,
it would have been superfluous for us to know
that they are painted on the retina. On the
contrary, as they are only useful to us, from the
information they convey with respect to things
external, it was essential that we should be so
formed as to attach them to the corresponding
objects on which they depend.”2
The two following remarks, which I shall state
with all possible brevity, appear to me to go far
towards a solution of the problem proposed by
D’Alembert.
1. According to the new theory of vision com¬
monly (but, as I shall afterwards show, not alto-
gathcr justly) ascribed to Dr Berkeley, lineal dis¬
tance from the eye is not an original perception of
sight. In the meantime, from the first moment
that the eye opens, the most intimate connection
must necessarily be established between the notion
of colour and those of visible extension and figure.
At first, it is not improbable that all of them
may be conceived to be merely modifications of
the mind; but, however this may be, the mani¬
fest consequence is, that when a comparison
between the senses of Sight and of Touch has
taught us to refer to a distance the objects of
the one, the indissolubly associated sensations
of the other must of course accompany them,
how far soever that distance may extend.3
2. It is well known to be a general law of our
constitution, when one thing is destined, either
by nature or by convention, to be the sign of
another, that the mind has a disposition to pass
on, as rapidly as possible, to the thing signified,
without dwelling on the sign as an object worthy
of its attention. The most remarkable of all ex-
1 “ We are informed by Father Malebranche, that the senses were at first as honest faculties as one could desire to be
endued with, till after they were debauched by original sin ; an adventure from which they contracted such an invincible
propensity to cheating, that they are now continually lying in wait to deceive us.”—Essay on Truth, p. 241, second edition.
2 Recherche de la Verite, Liv. i. chap. xiii. § 5. In Dr Reid’s strictures on Descartes and Locke there are two remarks
which I am at a loss how to reconcile. “ Colour,” says he, “ differs from other secondary qualities in this, that whereas
the name of the quality is sometimes given to the sensation which indicates it, and is occasioned by it, we lar as
I can judge, give the name of colour to the sensation, but to the quality only.” A few sentences before, he had obseived,
“ That when we think or speak of any particular colour, however simple the notion may seem to be which is presented to
the imagination, it is really in some sort compounded. It involves an unknown cause, and a known effect. 1 he name of
colour belongs indeed to the cause only, and not to the effect. But as the cause is unknown, we can form no distinct con¬
ception of it, but by its relation to the known effect. And, therefore, both go together in the imagination, and are so close¬
ly united, that they are mistaken for one simple object of thought.”—Inquiry, chap. vi. sect. 4. _
These two passages seem quite inconsistent with each other. If in the perception of colour, the sensation and the qua¬
lity “ be so closely united as to be mistaken for one single object of thought,” does it not obviously follow, that it is to
this compounded notion the name of colour must, in general, be given ? On the other hand, when it is said that the name of
colour is never given to the sensation, hut to the quality only, does not this imply, that every time the word is pronounced, t ie
quality is separated from the sensation, even in the imaginations of the vulgar ?
3 See Note M.
DISS. I. PART I. 1
66
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
amples of this occurs in the acquired perceptions
of sight, where our estimates of distance are
frequently the result of an intellectual process,
comparing a variety of different signs together,
without a possibility on our part, the moment
afterwards, of recalling one single step of the
process to our recollection. Our inattention to
the sensations of colour, considered as affections
of the Mind, or as modifications of our own
being, appears to me to he a fact of precisely
the same description; for all these sensations
were plainly intended by nature to perform the
office of signs, indicating to us the figures and
distances of things external. Of their essential
importance in this point of view, an idea may
be formed, by supposing for a moment the whole
face of nature to exhibit only one uniform colour,
without the slightest variety even of light and
shade. Is it not self-evident that, on this sup¬
position, the organ of sight would be entirely
useless, inasmuch as it is by the varieties of
colour alone that the' outlines or visible figures
of bodies are so defined, as to he distinguishable
one from another ? Nor could the eye, in this
case, give us any information concerning diver¬
sities of distance ; for all the various signs of it,
enumerated by optical writers, pre-suppose the
antecedent recognition of the bodies around us,
as separate objects of perception. It is not there¬
fore surprising, that signs so indispensably sub¬
servient to the exercise of our noblest sense,
should cease, in early infancy, to attract notice
as the subjects of our consciousness; and that
afterwards they should present themselves to the
imagination rather as qualities of Matter, than
as attributes of Mind.1
To this reference of the sensation of colour
to the external object, I can think of nothing so
analogous as the feelings we experience in sur¬
veying a library of books. We speak of the
volumes piled up on its shelves, as treasures or
magazines of the knowledge of past ages; and
contemplate them with gratitude and reverence,
as inexhaustible sources of instruction and delight
to the mind. Even in looking at a page of print
or of manuscript, we are apt to say, that the ideas
we acquire are received by the sense of 'sight;
and we are scarcely conscious of a metaphor,
when we employ this language. On such oc¬
casions we seldom recollect, that nothing is per¬
ceived by the eye but a multitude of black strokes
draifn upon white paper, and that it is our own
acquired habits which communicate to these,
strokes the whole of that significaney whereby
they are distinguished from the unmeaning
scrawling of an infant or a changeling. The
knowledge which we conceive to be preserved in
books, like the fragrance of a rose, or the gild¬
ing of the clouds, depends, for its existence, on,
the relation between the object and the percipient
mind; and the only difference between the two
cases is, that in the one, this relation is the local
and temporary effect of conventional habits; in
the other, it is the universal and the unchange-;
able work of nature. The art of printing, it is
to be hoped, will in future render the former
relation, as well as the latter, coeval with our
species; but, in the past history of mankind, it
is impossible to say how often it may have been
dissolved. What vestiges can now be traced of
those scientific attainments which, in early times,
drew to Egypt, from every part of the civilised
world, all those who were anxious to be initia¬
ted in the mysteries of philosophy ? The sym¬
bols which still remain in that celebrated coun¬
try, inscribed on eternal monuments, have long
lost the correspondent mindswbXcln reflected upon
them their own intellectual attributes. To us
1 In Dr Iteid’s Inquiry, he has introduced a discussion concerning the perception of visible figure, which has puzzled me
since the first time (more than forty years ago) that I read his work. The discussion relates to this question, “ Whether
there be any sensation proper to visible figure, by which it is suggested in vision ?” The result of the argument is, that
our eye might have been so framed as to suggest the figure of the object, without suggesting colour, or any other quality ?
and, of consequence, there seems to be no sensation appropriated to visible figure; this quality Ijeing suggested immediately
by the material impression upon the organ, of which impression we are not conscious.”—Inquiry, &c. chap. vi. sect. 8. To
my apprehension, nothing can appear more manifest than this, that, if there had been no variety in our sensations of colour,
and still more, if we had had no sensation of colour whatsoever, the organ of sight could have given us no information,
either with respect to figures or to distances ; and, of consequence, would have been as useless to us, as if we had been af¬
flicted, from the moment of our birth, with a gutta serena.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
67
tliey are useless and silent, and serve only to at¬
test the existence of arts, of which it is impos¬
sible to unriddle the nature and the objects.
 Variis nunc sculpta figuris
. Marmora, trunca tamen visuntur mutaque nobis;
Signa repertorum tuimur, cecidere reperta.
What has now been remarked with respect to
- written characters, may be extended very nearly
to oral language. When we listen to the dis¬
course of a public speaker, eloquence and per¬
suasion seem to issue from his lips; and we are
little aware, that we ourselves infuse the soul
into every word that he utters. The case is
exactly the same when we enjoy the conversa¬
tion of a friend. We ascribe the charm entirely
to his voice and accents; but without our co¬
operation, its potency would vanish. How very
small the comparative proportion is, which, in
•such cases, the words spoken contribute to the
intellectual and moral effect, I have elsewhere
endeavoured to show.
I have enlarged on this part of the Cartesian
system, not certainly on account of its intrinsic
value, as connected with the theory of our ex¬
ternal perceptions (although even in this respect
of the deepest interest to every philosophical in¬
quirer), but because it affords the most palpable
and striking example I know of, to illustrate the
indissoluble associations established during the
period of infancy between the intellectual and
the material worlds. It was plainly the inten¬
tion of nature, that our thoughts should be ha¬
bitually directed to things external; and accord-
ingly the bulk of mankind are not only indis¬
posed to study the intellectual phenomena, but
are incapable of that degree of reflection which
is necessary for their examination. Hence it is,
that when we begin to analyse our own internal
constitution, we find the facts it presents to us
so very intimately combined in our conceptions
with the qualities of matter, that it is impossible
for us to draw distinctly and steadily the line
between them; and that, when Mind and Mat¬
ter are concerned in the same result, the former
is either entirely overlooked, or is regarded only
as an accessary principle, dependent for its ex¬
istence on the latter. To the same cause it is
owing, that we find it so difficult (if it be at all
practicable) to form an idea of any of our intel¬
lectual operations, abstracted from the images
suggested by their metaphorical names. It was
objected to Descartes by some of his contempo¬
raries, that the impossibility of accomplishing
the abstractions which he recommended, fur¬
nished of itself a strong argument against the
soundness of his doctrines.1 The proper an¬
swer to this objection does not seem to have oc¬
curred to him, nor, so far as I know, to any
of his successors;—that the abstractions of the
understanding are totally different from the ab¬
stractions of the imagination; and that we may
reason with most logical correctness about things
considered apart, which it is impossible, even in
thought, to conceive as separated from each
other. His own speculations concerning the
indissolubility of the union established in the
mind between the sensations of colour and the
primary qualities of extension and figure, might
have furnished him, on this occasion, with a tri¬
umphant reply to his adversaries; not to men¬
tion that the variety of metaphors, equally fitted
to denote the same intellectual powers and ope¬
rations, might have been urged as a demonstra¬
tive proof, that none of these metaphors have
any connection with the general laws to which
it is the business of the philosopher to trace the
mental phenomena.
When Descartes established it as a general
principle, that nothing conceivable by the power of
imagination could throw any light on the operations
of thought (a principle which I consider as ex¬
clusively his own), he laid the foundation-stone
of the Experimental Philosophy of the Human
Mind. That the same truth had been previous¬
ly perceived, more or less distinctly, by Bacon
and others, appears probable from the general
complexion of their speculations; but which of
them has expressed it with equal precision, or
laid it down as a fundamental maxim in their
logic ? It is for this reason, that I am disposed
to date the origin of the true Philosophy of
Mind from the Principia of Descartes rather
1 See, in particular, Gassendi Opera, T«m. III. pp. 300, 301. Lugduni, 1658.
68
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
than from the Organon of Bacon, or the Essay
of Locke ; without, however, meaning to com¬
pare the French author with our two countiy-
men, either as a contributor to our stock ot facts
relating to the intellectual phenomena, or as the
author of any important conclusion concerning
the general laws to which they may he referred.
It is mortifying to reflect on the inconceivably
small number of subsequent inquirers by whom
the spirit of this cardinal maxim has been fully
seized; and that, even in our own times, the
old and inveterate prejudice to which it is op¬
posed, should not only have been revived with
success, hut should have been very generally re¬
garded as an original and profound discovery
in metaphysical science. These circumstances
must plead my apology for the space I have as¬
signed to the Cartesian Metaphysics in the
crowded historical picture which I am at present
attempting to sketch. The fulness of illustra¬
tion which I have bestowed on the works of the
master, will enable me to pass over those of his
disciples, and even of his antagonists, with a
correspondent brevity.1
After having said so much of the singular
merits of Descartes as the father of genuine me¬
taphysics, it is incumbent on me to add, that his
errors in this science were on a scale of propor¬
tionate magnitude. Of these the most promi¬
nent (for I must content myself with barely
mentioning a few of essential importance) were
his obstinate rejection of all speculations about
final causes;2 his hypothesis concerning the
lower animals, which he considered as mere ma¬
chines;3 his doctrine of innate ideas, as under¬
stood and expounded by himself f his noted para¬
dox of placing the essence of mind in thinking,
and of matter in extension;5 and his new modi¬
fication of the ideal theory of perception, adopt¬
ed afterwards, with some very slight changes,
by Malebranche, Locke, Berkeley, and Hume.6
To some of these errors I shall have occasion to
refer in the sequel of this Discourse. The fore¬
going slight enumeration is sufficient for my
present purpose.
In what I have hitherto said of Descartes, I
have taken no notice of his metaphysico-physiolo-
logical theories relative to the connection be¬
tween soul and body. Of these theories, how¬
ever, groundless and puerile as they are, it is
necessary for me, before I proceed farther, to
say a few words, on account of their extensive
and lasting influence on the subsequent history
of the science of Mind, not only upon the Con¬
tinent, but in our own island.
The hypothesis of Descartes, which assigns to
the soul for its principal seat the pineal gland or
conarion, is known to every one who has perused
1 The Cartesian doctrine concerning the secondary qualities of matter, is susceptible of various other important apphea-
lions. Might it not be employed, at least as an argumentum ad homincm against Mr Hume and others, who, admitting this
part of the Cartesian system, seem nevertheless to have a secret leaning to the scheme of materialism ? Mr Hume has
somewhere spoken of that little agitation of the Irain vie call thought. If it be unphilosophical to confound our sensations ot co¬
lour, of heat, and of cold, with such qualities as extension, figure, and solidity, is it not, if possible, still more so, to con¬
found with these qualities the phenomena of thought, of volition, and of moral emotion ? _ ...
2 It is not unworthy of notice, that, in spite of his own logical rules, Descartes sometimes seems insensibly to adopt,
On this subject, the common ideas and feelings of mankind. Several instances of this occur in his treatise on the Passions,
where he offers various conjectures concerning the uses to which they are subservient. The following sentence is more
peculiarly remarkable : “ Mihi persuadere nequeo, naturam indedisse hominibus ullum affectum qui semper vitiosus sit,
nullumque usum bonum et laudabilem habeat.”—Art. clxxv. _ .....
3 This hypothesis never gained much ground in England; and yet a late writer of distinguished eminence in some
branches of science, has plainly intimated that, in his opinion, the balance of probabilities inclined in its favour. “ I omit
mentioning other animals here,” says Mr Kirwan in his Metaphysical Essays, “ as it is at least doubtful whether they are not
mere automatons."—-Essays, p. 41. Loud. 180!). _ _ # .
4 I have added the clause in Italics, because, in Descartes’ reasonings on this question, there is no inconsiderable portion
of most important truth, debased by a large and manifest alloy of error. _
s To this paradox may be traced* many of the conclusions of the author, both on physical and on metaphysical subjects.
One of the most characteristical features, indeed, of his genius, is the mathematical concatenation of his opinions, even on
questions which, at first sight, seem the most remote from each other; a circumstance which, when combined with the ex¬
traordinary perspicuity of his stvle, completely accounts for the strong hold his philosophy took ol every mind, thoroughly
initiated, at an early period of life, in its principles and doctrines. In consequence of conceiving the essence of matter to
consist in extension, he was necessarily obliged to maintain the doctrine of a universal plenum; upon which doctrine the
theory of the Vortices came to be grafted by a very short and easy process. The same idea forced him, at the very outset
of his Metaphysical Meditations, to assert, much more dogmatically than his premises seem to warrant, the non-extension ot
Mind ; and led him on many occasions to blend, very illogically, this comparatively disputable dogma, with the facts he has to
state concerning the mental phenomena.
6 See Note N. .
DISSERTATION FIRST.
69
the Alma of Prior. It is not, perhaps, equally-
known, that the circumstance which determined
him to fix on this particular spot, was the very
plausible consideration, that, among the different
parts of the brain, this was the only one he
could find, which, being single and central,
was fitted for the habitation of a being, of which
he conceived unity and indivisibility to be essen¬
tial and obvious attributes.1 In what manner
the animal spirits, by their motions forwards and
backwards in the nervous tubes, keep up the
communication between this gland and the dif¬
ferent parts of the body, so as to produce the
phenomena of perception, memory, imagination,
and muscular motion, he has attempted parti¬
cularly to explain; describing the processes by
which these various effects are accomplished,
with as decisive a tone of authority, as if he had
been demonstrating experimentally the circula¬
tion of the blood. How curious to meet with
such speculations in the works of the same phi¬
losopher, who had so clearly perceived the ne¬
cessity, in studying the laws of Mind, of ab¬
stracting entirely from the analogies of Matter;
and who, at the outset of his inquiries, had car¬
ried his scepticism so far, as to require a proof
even of the existence of his own body ! To
those, however, who reflect with attention on
the method adopted by Descartes, this inconsist¬
ency will not appear so inexplicable as at first
sight may he imagined; inasmuch as the same
scepticism which led him to suspend his faith in
his intellectual faculties till he had once proved
to his satisfaction, from the necessary veracity
of God, that these faculties were to he regarded
as divine oracles, prepared him, in all the sub¬
sequent steps of his progress, to listen to the
suggestions of his own fallible judgment, with
more than common credulity and confidence.
The ideas of Descartes, respecting the com¬
munication between soul and body, are now so
universally rejected, that I should not have al¬
luded to them here, had it not been for their
manifest influence in producing, at the distance
of a century, the rival hypothesis of Dr Hartley.
The first traces of this hypothesis occur in some
queries of Sir Isaac Newton, which he was pro¬
bably induced to propose, less from the convic¬
tion of his own mind, than from a wish to turn
the attention of philosophers to an examination
of the correspondent part of the Cartesian sys¬
tem. Not that I would he understood to deny
that this great man seems, on more than one oc¬
casion, to have been so far misled by the ex¬
ample of his predecessor, as to indulge himself
in speculating on questions altogether unsuscep¬
tible of solution. In the present instance, how¬
ever, there cannot, I apprehend, be a doubt,
that it was the application made by Descartes of
the old theory of animal spirits, to explain the
mental phenomena, which led Newton into that
train of thinking which served as the ground¬
work of Hartley’s Theory of Vibrations.2
It would he useless to dwell longer on the re-
1 See in particular, the treatise De Passionibus, Art. 31. 32. See also Note O.
2 The physiological theory of Descartes, concerning the connection between soul and body, was adopted, together with
some of his sounder opinions, by a contemporary English philosopher, Mr Smith of Cambridge, whom I had occasion to
mention in a former note ; and that, for some time after the beginning of the eighteenth century, it continued to afford
one of the chief subjects of controversy between the two English universities, the Alma of Prior affords incontestable evi¬
dence. From the same poem it appears, how much the reveries of Descartes about the seat of the soul, contributed to wean
the wits of Cambridge from their former attachment to the still more incomprehensible pneumatology of the schoolmen.
 Here Matthew said,
Alma in verse, in prose the mind
By Aristotle’s pen defin’d,
Throughout the body squat or tall,
Is, bona fide, all in all,
And yet, slap-dash, is all again
In every sinew, nerve, and vein ;
Buns here and there like Hamlet’s Ghost,
"While everywhere she rules the roast.
This system, Bichard, we are told,
The men of Oxford firmly hold ;
The Cambridge wits, you know, deny
With ipse dixit to comply.
They say, (for in good truth they speak
With small respect of that old Greek)
That putting all his words together,
’Tis three blue beans in one blue bladder.
?70 PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
veries of a philosopher, much better known to
the learned of the present age by the boldness
of his exploded errors, than by the profound and
important truths contained in his works. At
the period when he appeared, it may perhaps he
questioned, whether the truths which he taught,
or the errors into which he fell, were most in¬
structive to the world. The controversies pro¬
voked by the latter had certainly a more imme¬
diate and palpable effect in awakening a general
•spirit of free inquiry. To this consideration
may he added an ingenious and not altogether
unsound remark of D’Alembert, that “ when
absurd opinions are become inveterate, it is
sometimes necessary to replace them by other
errors, if nothing better can be done. Such (he
continues) are the uncertainty and the vanity of
the human mind, that it has always need of an
opinion on which it may lean; it is a child to
whom a play-thing must occasionally be present¬
ed, in order to get out of its hands a mischie¬
vous weapon ; the play-thing will soon he aban¬
doned, when the light of reason begins to dawn,1
Among the opponents of Descartes, Gassendi
was one of the earliest, and by far the most for¬
midable. No two philosophers were ever more
strongly contrasted, both in point of talents and
of temper; the former as far superior to the
latter in originality of genius—in powers of con¬
centrated attention to the phenomena of the in¬
ternal world—in classical taste—in moral sensi¬
bility, and in all the rarer gifts of the mind, as
he fell short of him in erudition—in industry as
a book-maker—in the justness of his logical
views, so far as the phenomena of the material
universe are concerned—and, in general, in
those literary qualities and attainments, of which
the bulk of mankind either are, or think them¬
selves best qualified to form an estimate. The
reputation of Gassendi, accordingly, seems to
have been at its height in his own lifetime ; that
of Descartes made but little progress, till a con¬
siderable time after his death.
The comparative justness of Gassendi’s views
in natural philosophy may be partly, perhaps
chiefly, ascribed to his diligent study of Bacon’s
works ; which Descartes (if he ever read them),
has nowhere alluded to in his writings. This
extraordinary circumstance in the character of
Descartes is the more unaccountable, that not
only Gassendi, but some of his other corre¬
spondents, repeatedly speak of Bacon in terms
which one should think could scarcely have fail¬
ed to induce him to satisfy his own mind whe¬
ther their encomiums were well or ill founded.
One of these, while he contents himself, from
very obvious feelings of delicacy, with mention¬
ing the Chancellor of England as the person
who, before the time of Descartes, had entertained
the justest notions about the method of prose¬
cuting physical inquiries, takes occasion, in the
same letter, to present him, in the form of a
friendly admonition from himself, with the fol¬
lowing admirable summary of the instauratio
magna. “ To all this it must be added, that no
architect, however skilful, can raise an edifice,
unless he be provided with proper materials. In
like manner, your method, supposing it to be
perfect, can never advance you a single step in
the explanation of natural causes, unless you are
in possession of the facts necessary for determin¬
ing their effects. They who, without stirring
from their libraries, attempt to discourse con¬
cerning the works of nature, may indeed tell us
what sort of world they would have made, if
God had committed that task to their ingenuity;
but, without a wisdom truly divine, it is impos¬
sible for them to form an idea of the universe,
at all approaching to that in the mind of its
Creator. And, although your method promises
everything that can be expected from human
_ Alma they strenuously maintain,
Sits cock-horse on her throne the brain.
And from that seat of thought dispenses
Her sovereign pleasure to the senses, &c. &c.
pn3v>rnTn10o f™1*? k^gumfr’g to end, is one continued piece of ridicule upon the various hypotheses of physiologists
of f6 “m1mumCatlon,t,£:tween soul and bod-y* The amusing contrast between the solemn absurdity
l ,es,e dlsPutes, and the light pleasantry of the excursions to which they lead the fancy of the poet, constitutes the prin-
cipal charm of this performance; by far the most original and characteristical of all Prior’s Works
See Note P
DISSERTATION FIRST.
71
genius, it does not, therefore, lay any claim to
the art of divination; but only boasts of dedu¬
cing from the assumed data, all the truths
which follow from them as legitimate conse¬
quences ; which data can, in physics, be nothing
else but principles previously established by ex-
penment.”1 In Gassendis controveisies with
Descartes, the name of Bacon seems to be studi¬
ously introduced on various occasions, in a man¬
ner still better calculated to excite the curiosity
of his antagonist; and in his historical review
of logical systems, the heroical attempt which
gave Urth to the Novum Organon is made the sub¬
ject of a separate chapter, immediately preced¬
ing that which relates to the Metaphysical Medi¬
tations of Descartes.
The partiality of Gassendi for the Epicurean
physics, if not originally imbibed from Bacon,
must have been powerfully encouraged by the
favourable terms in which he always mentions
the Atomic or Corpuscular theory. In its con¬
formity to that luminous simplicity which every¬
where characterises the operations of nature,
this theory certainly possesses a decided superio¬
rity over all the other conjectures of the ancient
philosophers concerning the material universe;
and it reflects no small honour on the sagacity
both of Bacon and of Gassendi, to have perceiv¬
ed so clearly the strong analogical presumption
which this conformity afforded in its favour,
prior to the unexpected lustre thrown upon it by
the researches of the Newtonian school. With
all his admiration, however, of the Epicurean
physics, Bacon nowhere shows the slightest
leaning towards the metaphysical or ethical doc¬
trines of the same sect; but, on the contrary,
considered (and, I apprehend, rightly consider¬
ed) the atomic theory as incomparably more hos¬
tile to atheism, than the hypothesis of four
mutable elements, and of one immutable fifth
essence. In this last opinion, there is every
reason to believe that Gassendi fully concurred;
more especially, as he was a zealous advocate for
the investigation offinal causes, even in inquiries
strictly physical. At the same time, it cannot be
denied, that, on many questions, both of Metaphy¬
* - 1 See the first Epistle to Descartes, prefixed to
2 The affection of Gassendi for Hobbes, and his esteem
sics and of Ethics, this very learned theologian
(one of the most orthodox, professedly, of whom
the Catholic church has to boast), carried his
veneration for the authority ol Epicurus to a de¬
gree bordering on weakness and servility; and
although, on such occasions, he is at the utmost
pains to guard his readers against the dangerous
conclusions commonly ascribed to his master, he
has nevertheless retained more than enough of
his system, to give a plausible colour to a very
general suspicion, that he secretly adopted more
of it than he chose to avow.
As Gassendi’s attachment to the physical doc¬
trines of Epicurus, predisposed him to give an
easier reception than he might otherwise have
done to his opinions in Metaphysics and in
Ethics, so his unqualified contempt for the hy¬
pothesis of the Vortices seems to have created
in his mind an undue prejudice against the spe¬
culations of Descartes on all other subjects. His
objections to the argument by which Descartes
has so triumphantly established the distinction
between Mind and Matter, as separate and he¬
terogeneous objects of human knowledge, must
now appear, to every person capable ol forming
a judgment upon the question, altogether frivo¬
lous and puerile; amounting to nothing more
than this, that all our knowledge is received by
the channel of the external senses,—insomuch,
that there is not a single object of the under¬
standing which may not be ultimately analysed
into sensible images; and, of consequence, that
when Descartes proposed to abstract from these
images in studying the mind, he rejected the
only materials out of which it is possible loi oui
faculties to rear any superstructure. The sum
of the whole matter is (to use his own language),
that <e there is no real distinction between ima¬
gination and intellection ; meaning, by the former
of these words, the power which the mind pos¬
sesses of representing to itself the material ob¬
jects and qualities it has previously perceived.
It is evident, that this conclusion coincides ex¬
actly with the tenets inculcated in England at
the same period by his friend Hobbes,2 as well
as with those revived at a later period by Dide-
his Treatise on the Passions. Amstel. 1664. /
for his writings, are mentioned m very strong terms by bor-
72
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
rot, Horne Tooke, and many other writers, both
French and English, who, while they were only
repeating the exploded dogmas of Epicurus,
fancied they were pursuing, with miraculous
success, the new path struck out by the genius
of Locke.
It is worthy of remark, that the argument em¬
ployed by Gassendi against Descartes, is copied
almost verbatim from his own version of the ac¬
count given by Diogenes Laertius of the sources
of our knowledge, according to the principles of
the Epicurean philosophy:1—so very little is
there of novelty in the consequences deduced
by modern materialists from the scholastic pro¬
position, Nihil est in intellectu quod mn fuit prius
in sensu. The same doctrine is very concisely
and explicitly stated in a maxim formerly quot¬
ed from Montaigne, that “ the senses are the
beginning and end of all our knowledge—a
maxim which Montaigne learned from his oracle
Raymond de Sebonde; which, by the present
race of French philosophers, is almost univer¬
sally supposed to be sanctioned by the authority
of Locke; and which, if true, would at once
cut up by the roots, not only all metaphysics,
but all ethics, and all religion, both natural and
revealed. It is accordingly with this very maxim
that Madame du Dcffand (in a letter which ri¬
vals anything that the fancy of Moliere has con¬
ceived in his Femmes Savantes) assails Voltaire
for his imbecility in attempting a reply to an
atheistical book then recently published. In
justice to this celebrated lady, I shall transcribe
part of it in her own words, as a precious and
authentic document of the philosophical tone af¬
fected by the higher orders in France, during
the reign of Louis XV.
“ J’entends parler d’une refutation d’un cer¬
tain livre (Systime de la Nature). Je voudrois
Pavoir. Je m’en tiens a connoitre ce livre par
vous. Toutes refutations de systeme doivent
etre bonnes, surtout quand c’est vous qui les
faites. Mais, mon cher Voltaire, ne vous en-
nuyez-vous pas de tous les raisonnemens meta¬
physiques sur les matieres inintelligibles. Peut-
on donner des idees, ou peut-on en admettre d'autres
que cedes que nous re$evons par nos sens ?”—If
the Senses be the beginning and end of all our
knowledge, the inference here pointed at is
quite irresistible.2
A learned and profound writer has lately
complained of the injustice done by the present
age to Gassendi; in whose works, he asserts,
may be found the whole of the doctrine com¬
monly ascribed to Locke concerning the origin
of our knowledge.5 The remark is certainly
just, if restricted to Locke’s doctrine as inter¬
preted by the greater part of philosophers on
the Continent; but it is very wide of the truth,
if applied to it as now explained and modified
by the most intelligent of his disciples in this
country. The main scope, indeed, of Gassendi’s
argument against Descartes, is to materialise
that class of our ideas which the Loekists as
well as the Cartesians consider as the exclusive
objects of the power of reflection ; and to show
that these ideas are all ultimately resolvable into
images or conceptions borrowed from things ex¬
ternal. It is not, therefore, what is sound and
valuable in this part of Locke’s system, but the
errors grafted on it in the comments of some of
his followers, that can justly be said to have
been borrowed from Gassendi. Nor has Gassendi
the merit of originality, even in these errors;
for scarcely a remark on the subject occurs in
his works, but what is copied from the accounts
biere. “ Thomas Hobbius Gassendo charissimus, cujus libellum De Corpore paueis ante obitum mensibus accipiens, oscu-
latus est, subjungens, mole quidem parvus est iste liber, verum totus, ut opinor, medulla scatet!" (Sorberii Pref.) Gassendi’s
admiration ot Hobbes’ Treatise De Give, was equally warm ; as we learn from a letter of his to Sorbiere, prefixed to that
work.
* Compare Gassendi Opera, Tom. III. p. 300, 301; and Tom. V. p. 12.
2 Notwithstanding the evidence (according to rwy judgment) of this conclusion, I trust it will not be supposed that I im¬
pute the slightest bias in its favour to the generality of those who have adopted the premises. If an author is to be held
chargeable with all the consequences logically deducible from his opinions, who can hope to escape censure ? And, in the
present instance, how few are there among Montaigne’s disciples, who have ever reflected for a moment on the real mean¬
ing and import of the proverbial maxim in question !
3 Gassendi fut le premier auteur de la nouvelle philosophie de 1’esprit humain ; car il est terns de lui rendre, a cet egard,
une justice qu’il n’a presque jamais obtenue de ses propres compatriotes. II est tres singulier en effet, qu’en parlant de
la nouvelle philosophie de 1’esprit humain, nous disions toujours, la philosophie de Locke. D’Alembert et Condillac ont au¬
torise' cette expression, en rapportant 1’un et 1’autre a Locke exclusivement la gloire de cette invention, &c. &c.—Dege-
rando, Hist. Comp, des Systemes, Tome I. p. SOL
DISSERTATION FIRST.
73
transmitted to us of the Epicurean metaphy¬
sics.
Unfortunately for Descartes, while he so clear¬
ly perceived that the origin of those ideas which
are the most interesting to human happiness,
could not he traced to our external senses, he
had the weakness, instead of stating this funda¬
mental proposition in plain aud precise terms,
to attempt an explanation of it by the extrava¬
gant hypothesis of innate ideas. This hypothesis
gave Gassendi great advantages over him, in the
management of their controversy; while the
subsequent adoption of Gassendi’s reasonings
against it by Locke, has led to a very general
but ill-founded belief, that the latter, as well as
the former, rejected, along with the doctrine of
innate ideas, the various important and well-
ascertained truths combined with it in the Car¬
tesian system.1
The hypothetical language afterwards intro¬
duced by Leibnitz concerning the human soul
(which he sometimes calls a living mirror of the
universe, and sometimes supposes to contain
within itself the seeds of that knowledge which
is gradually unfolded in the progressive exercise
of its faculties), is another impotent attempt to
explain a mystery unfathomable by human rea¬
son. The same remark may be extended to
some of Plato’s reveries on this question, more
particularly to his supposition, that those ideas
which cannot be traced to any of our external
senses, were acquired by the soul in its state of
pre-existence. In all of these theories, as well
as in that of Descartes, the cardinal truth is as¬
sumed as indisputable, that the Senses are not
the only sources of human knowledge; nor is
any thing wanting to render them correctly lo¬
gical, but the statement of this truth as an ulti¬
mate fact (or at least as a fact hitherto unex¬
plained) in our intellectual frame.
It is very justly observed by Mr Hume, with
respect to Sir Isaac Newton, that “ while he
seemed to draw off the veil from some of the
mysteries of nature, he showed, at the same
time, the imperfections of the mechanical philo-
sophy, and thereby restored her ultimate secrets
to that obscurity in which they ever did, and
ever will remain.”2 When the justness of this
remark shall be as universally acknowledged in
the science of Mind as it now is in Natural Phi¬
losophy, we may reasonably expect that an end
will be put to those idle controversies which
have so long diverted the attention of metaphy¬
sicians from the proper objects of their studies.
The text of Scripture, prefixed by Dr Reid as
a motto to his Inquiry, conveys, in a few words,
the result of his own modest and truly philoso¬
phical speculations on the origin of our know¬
ledge, and expresses this result in terms strictly
analogous to those in which Newton speaks of
the law of gravitation :—“ The inspiration of the
Almighty hath given them understanding.” Let
our researches concerning the developement
of Mind, and the occasions on which its various
notions are first formed, he carried hack ever so
far towards the commencement of its history, in
this humble confession of human ignorance they
must terminate at last
I have dwelt thus long on the writings of
Gassendi, much less from my own idea of their
merits, than out of respect to an author, in
whose footsteps Locke has frequently conde¬
scended to tread. The epigrammatic encomium
bestowed on him by Gibbon, who calls him,
“ le meilleur philosophe des litterateurs, et le
meilleur litterateur des philosophes,” appears to
me quite extravagant.3 His learning, indeed,
was at once vast and accurate; and, as a philo¬
sopher he is justly entitled to the praise of being
one of the first who entered thoroughly into the
spirit of the Baconian logic. But his inventive
powers, which were probably not of the highest
order, seem to have been either dissipated amidst
the multiplicity of his literary pursuits, or laid
asleep by his indefatigable labours as a com¬
mentator and a compiler. From a writer of
this class, new lights were not to he expected
in the study of the human Mind; and accord¬
ingly, here he has done little or nothing, hut to
revive and to repeat over the doctrines of the
old Epicureans. His works amount to six
large volumes in folio; hut the substance of
3 Essai sur PElude de la Littcrature.
K
1 Sea Note Q.
DISS. I. PART I.
History of Great Britain, chap. Ixxi.
74
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
them might be compressed into a much smallei
compass, without any diminution of their value.
In one respect Gassendi had certainly a great
advantage over his antagonist, the good humour
which never forsook him in the heat of a philoso¬
phical argument. The comparative indifference
with which he regarded most of the points at
issue between them, was perhaps the chief cause
of that command of temper so uniformly dis-
played in alibis controversies, and soicmarkably
contrasted with the constitutional irritability of
Descartes. Even the faith of Gassendi in his
own favourite master, Epicurus, does not seem
to have been very strong or dogmatical, if it he
true that he was accustomed to allege, as the
chief ground of his preferring the Epicurean
phvsics to the theory of the Vortices, 44 that
chimera for chimera, he could not help feeling
some partiality for that which was two thousand
years older than the other.”1
About twenty years after the death of Gassendi
(who did not long survive Descartes), Male-
branche entered upon his philosophical career.
The earlier part of his life had, by the advice of
some of his preceptors, been devoted to the
study of ecclesiastical history, and of the learn¬
ed languages ; for neither of which pursuits does
he seem to have felt that marked predilection
which afforded any promise of future eminence.
At length, in the twenty-fifth year of his age,
he accidentally met with Descartes’ Treatise on
Man, which opened to him at once a new world,
and awakened him to a consciousness of powers,
till then unsuspected either by himself or by
others. Fontenelle has given a lively picture of
the enthusiastic ardour with which Malebranche
first read this performance; and describes its
effects on his nervous system as sometimes so
great, that he was forced to lay aside the book
till the palpitation of his heart had subsided.
It was only ten years after this occurrence
when he published The Search after Truth; a
work which, whatever judgment may now be
passed on its philosophical merits, will always
form an interesting study to readers of taste, and
a useful one to students of human nature. Few
books can be mentioned, combining, in so great
a degree, the utmost depth and abstraction of
thought, with the most pleasing sallies of imagi¬
nation and eloquence; and none, where they
who delight in the observation of intellectual
character may find more ample illustrations,
both of the strength and weakness of the human
understanding. It is a singular feature in the
history of Malebranche, that, notwithstanding the
poetical colouring which adds so much animation
and grace to his style, he never could read,,
without disgust, a page of the finest verses;2
and that, although Imagination was manifestly
the predominant ingredient in the composition
of his own genius, the most elaborate passages
in his works are those where he inveighs against
this treacherous faculty, as the prolific parent of
our most fatal delusions.5
In addition to the errors, more or less incident
to all men, from the unresisted sway of imagina¬
tion during the infancy of reason, Malebranche
had, in his own case, to struggle with all the
prejudices connected with the peculiar dogmas
of the Roman Catholic faith. Unfortunately,
too, he everywhere discovers a strong disposi¬
tion to blend his theology and his metaphysics
together ; availing himself of the one as an auxi¬
liary to the other, wherever in either science
his ingenuity fails him in establishing a favourite
conclusion. To this cause is chiefly to be as¬
cribed the little attention now paid to a writer
formerly so universally admired, and, in point
of fact, the indisputable author of some of the
most refined speculations claimed by the theo¬
rists of the eighteenth century. As for those
mystical controversies about Grace with An¬
thony Arnauld, on which he wasted so much of
1 See Note It.
2 Bayle—Fontenelle—D’Alembert.
3 In one of his arguments on this head, Malebranche refers to the remarks previously made on the same subject by an
English philosopher, who, like himself, has more than once taken occasion, while warning his readers against the undue in¬
fluence of imagination over the judgment, to exemplify the boundless fertility and originality of his own. The following
allusion of Bacon’s, quoted by Malebranche, is eminently apposite and happy:—“ Omnes perceptiones tam sensus quam
mentis sunt ex analogia hominis, non ex analogia universi: Estque intellectus humanus instar specup insequalis ad radios
rerum, qui suam naturam naturae rerum immiscet, eamque distorquet et inficit.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
75
his genius, they have long sunk into utter obli¬
vion ; nor should I have here revived the recol¬
lection of them, were it not for the authentic
record they furnish of the passive bondage in
which, little more than a hundred years ago,
two of the most powerful minds of that memor¬
able period were held by a creed, renounced at
the Reformation by all the Protestant countries
of Europe, and the fruitful source, wherever it
has been retained, of other prejudices, not less
to be lamented, of an opposite description.1
When Malebranche touches on questions not
positively decided by the church, he exhibits a
remarkable boldness and freedom of inquiry;
setting at nought those human authorities which
have so much weight with men of unenlighten¬
ed erudition; and sturdily opposing his own
reason to the most inveterate prejudices of his
age. His disbelief in the reality of sorcery,
which, although cautiously expressed, seems to
have been complete, affords a decisive proof of
the soundness of his judgment, where he con¬
ceived himself to have any latitude in exercising
it. The following sentences contain more good
sense on the subject, than I recollect in any
contemporary author. I shall quote them, as
well as the other passages I may afterwards ex¬
tract from his writings, in his own words, to
which it is seldom possible to do justice in an
English version.
tc Les hommes meme les plus sages se con-
duisent plutot par rimagination des autres, je
veux dire par I’opinion et par la coutume, que
par les regies de la raison. Ainsi dans les lieux
ou Ton brule les sorciers, on ne voit autre chose,
parce que dans les lieux ou I’on les condamne au
feu, on croit veritablement qu’ils le sont, et cette
croyance se fortifie par les discours qu’on en
tient. Que I’on eesse de les punir, et qu’on les
traite comme des fous, et 1’on verra qu’avec le
terns ils ne seront plus sorciers; parce que ceux
qui ne le sont que par imagination, qui font
certainement le plus grand nombre, deviendront
comme les autres hommes.
“ C’est done avec raison que plusieurs Parle-
mens ne punissent point les sorciers: ils s’en
trouve beaucoup moins dans les terres de leur
ressort: Et 1’envie, et la malice des medians ne
peuvent se servir de ce pretexte pour accabler
les innocens.”
How strikingly has the sagacity of these an¬
ticipations and reflections been verified, by the
subsequent history of this popular superstition
in our own country, and indeed in every other
instance where the experiment recommended by
Malebranche has been tried ! Of this sagacity
much must, no doubt, be ascribed to the native
vigour of a mind struggling against and control¬
ling early prejudices; but it must not be for¬
gotten, that, notwithstanding his retired and
monastic life, Malebranche had breathed the
same air with the associates and friends of Des¬
cartes and of Gassendi; and that no philosopher
seems ever to have been more deeply impressed
with the truth of that golden maxim of Mon¬
taigne—“ II est bon de frotter et limer notre
cervelle centre eelle d’autrui.”
Another feature in the intellectual character
of Malebranche, presenting an unexpected con¬
trast to his powers of abstract meditation, is the
attentive and discriminating eye with which he
appears to have surveyed the habits and man¬
ners of the comparatively little circle around
him; and the delicate yet expressive touches
with which he has marked and defined some of
the nicest shades and varieties of genius.2 To
this branch of the Philosophy of Mind, not cei-
tainly the least important and inteiesting, he
1 Of this disposition to blend theological dogmas with philosophical discussions, Malebranc i- w t i :s own
himself, that he seriously warned his readers against it, by quoting an aphorism of Bacon s, pecuia y pp t:arn r„i:
writings:—Ex divinorum et humanorum malesana admixtione non solum educitur philosophia phan as i > these
gio haeretica. Itaque salutare admodum est si mente sobria fidei tantum dentur quae fidei sun . , ^ .
words, it is amusing to observe, that Malebranche has slily suppressed the name of the au lor rom w > . om_
rowed; manifestly from an unwillingness to weaken their effect, by the suspicious authoiity o a pn osop
munion with the Church of Home—Recherche de la Vcrite, Liv. ii. chap. ix. , .
Dr Reid, proceeding on the supposition that Malebranche was a Jesuit, has ascribed to the an ip 7 ,24.f :
and the Jansenists, the warmth displayed on both sides, in his disputes with Arnauld (Essays on tc n e . ^ ’ P'
but the fact is, that Malebranche belonged to the Congregation of the Oratory; a society much more
Jansenists than to the Jesuits; and honourably distinguished, since its first origin, by the moderation as wc
of its members.
* See, among other passages, Recherche de la Verity Liv. ii. chap. ix.
76
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
has contributed a greater number of original re¬
marks than Locke himself;1 since whose time,
with the single exception of Helvetius, hardly
any attention has been paid to it, either by
French or English metaphysicians. The same
practical knowledge of the human understand¬
ing, modified and diversified, as we everywhere
see it, by education and external circumstances,
is occasionally discovered by his very able anta¬
gonist Arnauld; affording, in both cases, a sa¬
tisfactory proof, that the narrowest field of ex¬
perience may disclose to a superior mind those
refined and comprehensive results, which com¬
mon observers are forced to collect from an ex¬
tensive and varied commerce with the world.
In some of Malebranche’s incidental strictures
on men and manners, there is a lightness of
style and fineness of tact, which one would
scarcely have expected from the mystical divine,
who believed that he saw all things in God.
Who would suppose that the following para¬
graph forms part of a profound argument on
the influence of the external senses over the hu¬
man intellect ?
£C Si, par exemple, celui qui parle s’enonce
avee facilite, s’il garde une mesure agreable dans
ses periodes, s’il a 1’air d’un honnete homme et
d’un homme d’esprit, si c’est une personne de
qualite, s’il est suivi d’un grand train, s’il parle
avec autorite et avec gravite, si les autres
I’eeoutent avec respect et in silence, s’il a
quelque reputation, et quelque commerce avec
les esprits du premier ordre, enfin, s’il est assez
heureux pour plaire, ou pour etre estime, il aura
raison dans tout ce qu’il avancera; et il n’y
aura pas jusqu’a son collet et a ses manchettes,
qui ne prouvent quelque chose.”2
In his philosophical capacity, Malebranche is
1 In one of Locke’s most noted remarks of this sort, he has been anticipated by Malebranche, on whose clear
yet concise statement he does not seem to have thrown much new light by his very diffuse and wordy commentary.
“ If in having our ideas in the memory ready at hand, consists quickness of parts ; in this of having them unconfused,
and being able nicely to distinguish one thing from another, where there is but the least difference, consists, in a great
measure, the exactness of judgment and clearness of reason, which is to be observed in one man above another. And
hence, perhaps, may be given some reason of that common observation, that men who have a great deal of wit, and prompt
memories, have not always the clearest judgment, or deepest reason. For Wit, lying most in the assemblage of ideas,
and putting those together with quickness and variety, •wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity, thereby to make
up pleasant pictures, and agreeable visions in the fancy; Judgment, on the contrary, lies quite on the other side, in se¬
parating carefully, one from another, ideas wherein can be found the least difference, [hereby to avoid being misled by simi¬
litude, and by affinity to take one thing for another.”—Essay, <|-c. B. ii. c. xi. § 2.
“ Il y a done des esprits de deux sortes. Les uns remarquent aisement les differences des choses, et ce sont les bons
esprits. Les autres imaginent et supposent de la ressemblance entr’elles, et ce sont les esprits superficiels.”—Rech. de la
Verite, Liv. ii. Seconde Partie, chap. ix.
At a still earlier period, Bacon had pointed out the same cardinal distinction in the intellectual characters of
individuals.
“ Maximum et velut radicale discrimen ingeniorum, quoad philosophiam et scientias, illud est; quod alia ingenia sint
fortiora et aptiora ad notandas rerum differentias ; alia, ad notandas rerum similitudines. Ingenia enim constantia et acuta,
figere contemplationes, et morari, et haerere in omni subtilitate differentiarum possunt. Ingenia autem sublimia, et dis-
cursiva, etiam tenuissimas et catholicas rerum similitudines et cognoscunt, et componunt. Utrumque autem ingenium
facile labitur in excessum, prensando aut gradus rerum, aut umbras.”
That strain I heard was of a higher mood ! It is evident, that Bacon has here seized, in its most general form, the very
important truth perceived by his two ingenious successors in particular cases. Wit, which Locke contrasts with judgment,
is only one of the various talents connected with what Bacon calls the discursive genius ; and indeed, a talent very subor¬
dinate in dignity to most of the others.
2 I shall indulge myself only in one other citation from Malebranche, which I select partly on account of the curious
extract it contains from an English publication long since forgotten in this country ; and partly as a proof that this learn¬
ed and pious father was not altogether insensible to the ludicrous.
“ Un illustre entre les S^avans, quia fonde des chaires de Gdometrie et d’Astronomie dans I’Universite d’Oxford,*
commence un livre, qu’il s’est avisd de faire sur les huit premieres propositions d’Euclide, par ces paroles : Consilium meum est,
auditores, si vires et valetudo suffecerint, exjplicare dejinitiones, petitiones, communes sententias, et octo priores propositiones primi libri
Elementorum, ecetera post me venientibus relinquere : et il le finit par celles-ci: Exsolvi per Dei gratiam, Domini auditores, pro-
missum, liberavi fidem meam, explicavi pro modulo meo definitioncs, petitiones, communes sententias, et octo priores propositiones Ele¬
mentorum Euclidis. Hie annis fessus cycles artemque repono. Succedent in hoc munus alii fortasse magis vegeto corpore ct vivido
ingenio. Il ne faut pas une heure a un esprit mediocre, pour apprendre par lui-meme, ou par le secours du plus petit ge'o-
metrie qu’il y ait, les definitions, demandes, axiomes, et les huit premieres propositions d’Euclide : et voici un auteur qui
parle de cette entreprise, comme de quelque chose de fort grand et de fort difficile. Il a peur que les forces lui manquent:
Si. vires et valetudo suffecerint. Il laisse a ses successeurs a pousser ces choses : ccetcrapost me venientibus relinquere. Il remercie
Dieu de ce que, par une grace particuliere, il a execute' ce qu’il avoitpromis : exsolvi per Dei gratiampromissum, liberavi fdem
meam, explicavi pro modulo meo. Q,uoi ? la quadrature du cercle ? la duplication du cube ? Ce grande homme a explique
pro modulo suo, les definitions, les demandes, les axiomes, et les huit premieres propositions du premier livre des Elemens
* Sir Henry Savile. The work here referred to is a 4to volume, entitled, Prelectiones xiii. in Principium Elementorurn
Euclidis, Oxonice habitae, anno 1620.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
77
to be considered in two points of view : 1. As a
commentator on Descartes; and, 2. As the
author of some conclusions from the Cartesian
principles, not perceived or not avowed by his
predecessors of the same school.
1. I have already taken notice of Malebranche’s
comments on the Cartesian doctrine concerning
the sensible, or, as they are now more commonly
called, the secondary qualities of matter. The
same fulness and happiness of illustration are
everywhere else to be found in his elucidations
of his master’s system; to the popularity of which
he certainly contributed greatly by the liveliness
of his fancy, and the charms of his composition.
Even in this part of his writings, he always pre¬
serves the air of an original thinker; and, while
pursuing the same path with Descartes, seems
rather to have accidentally struck into it from
his own casual choice, than to have selected it
out of any deference for the judgment of another.
Perhaps it may be doubted, if it is not on such
occasions that the inventive powers of his genius,
by being somewhat restrained and guided in
their aim, are most vigorously and most useful¬
ly displayed.
In confirmation of this last remark, I shall
only mention, by way of examples, his com¬
ments on the Cartesian theory of Vision,—more
especially on that part of it which relates to our
experimental estimates of the distances and
magnitudes of objects; and his admirable illus¬
tration of the errors to which we are liable from
the illusions of sense, of imagination, and of the
passions. In his physiological reveries on the
union of soul and body, he wanders, like his
master, in the dark, from the total want of facts
as a foundation for his reasonings; but even
here his genius has had no inconsiderable in¬
fluence on the inquiries of later writers. The
fundamental principle of Hartley is most expli¬
citly stated in The Search after Truth ;1 as well
as a hypothesis concerning the nature of habits,
which, rash and unwarranted as it must now
appear to every novice in science, was not
thought unworthy of adoption in The Essay on
Human Understanding.2
2. Among the opinions which chiefly charac¬
terise the system of Malebranche, the leading
one is, that the causes which it is the aim of
philosophy to investigate are only occasional
causes; and that the Deity is himself the effi¬
cient and immediate cause of every effect in the
d’Euclitle. Peut-6tre qu’entre ceux qui lui succederont, il s’en trouvera qui auront plus de santd, et plus de force que lui
pour continuer ce bel ouvrage: Succedent in hoc munus alii fobtasse magis vegeto cor pore et vivido ingenio. Mais pour lui
il est terns qu’il se repose; hie annis fessus cyclos artemquc repono."
After reading the above passage, it is impossible to avoid reflecting, with satisfaction, on the effect which the progress of
philosophy has since had, in removing those obstacles to the acquisition of useful knowledge, which were created by the
pedantic taste prevalent two centuries ago. What a contrast to a quarto commentary on the definitions, postulates, axioms,
and "first, Piodit. nrnnnsihinnQ nf* Tf'nr'lirPa TTii-of \a ^o4-~ ^    
que savoient JLeibnitz ou Newton.”—(Sur VInstruction Publique.) In this particular
science, I am aware that much is to be ascribed to the subsequent invention of new and more general methods; but,
I apprehend, not a little also to the improvements gradually suggested by experience, in what Bacon calls the traditive part
of logic.
1 “ Toutes nos differentes perceptions sont attachdes aux diffdrens changemens qui arrivent dans les fibres de la partie
pnncipale du cerveau dans laquelle 1’ame reside plus particulierement.”—(Peek, de la Verity Liv, ii. chap, v.) These
changes in the fibres of the brain are commonly called by'Malebranche ebranlemens;—a word which is frequently rendered
by his old English translator (Taylor) vibrations. “ La seconde chose,” says Malebranche, “ qui se trouve dans chacune
des sensations, est Vebranlement des fibres de nos nerfs, qui se communique jusqu’au cerveau :” thus translated by Taylor:
‘ The second thing that occurs in every sensation is the vibration of the fibres of our nerves, which is communicated to the
brain.”—Liy. i. chap, xii.) Nor was the theory of association overlooked by Malebranche. See, in particular, the third
chapter of his second book, entitled, De la liaison mutuelle des idees de Vesprit, et des traces du cerveau ; et de la liaison mutuelle
des traces avec les traces, et des idees avec les ideas.
- “ Mais afin de suivre notre explication, il faut remarquer que les esprits ne trouvent pas toujours les chemins, par oil
us doivent passer assez diverts et assez fibres: et que cela fait qui nous avons de la difficulte a remuer, par exemple, les
doigts avec la vitesse qui est necessaire pour jouer des instrumens de musique, ou les muscles qui servant a la prononciation,
pour prononcer les mots d’une langue etrangere : Mais que peu-a-peu les esprits animaux par leur cours continuel ouvrent ct
opplardssent ces chemins, en sorte qu’avec le terns ils n’y trouvent plus de resistance. Car e’est dans cette facilite que les
esprits animaux ont de passer dans les membres de notre corps que consistent les habitudes.”—Rech. de la Verite, Liv. ii.
“ Habits seem to be but trains of motion in the animal spirits, which, once set a-going, continue in the same steps they
have been used to, •which, by often treading, are worn into a smooth path.”-—Locke, Book ii. chap, xxxiii. §. G.
78
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
universe.1 From this single principle, the greater
part of his distinguishing doctrines may be easily
deduced, as obvious corollaries.
That we are completely ignorant of the man¬
ner in which physical causes and effects are con¬
nected, and that all our knowledge concerning
them amounts merely to a perception of constant
conjunction, had been before remarked by Hobbes,
and more fully shown by Glanville in his Scepsis
Scientijica. Malebranche, however, has treated
the same argument much more profoundly and
ably than any of his predecessors, and has, in¬
deed, anticipated Hume in some of the most in¬
genious reasonings contained in his Essay on
Necessary Connexion. From these data, it was
not unnatural for his pious mind to conclude,
that what are commonly called second causes have
no existence; and that the Divine power, inces¬
santly and universally exerted, is, in truth, the
connecting link of all the phenomena of nature.
It is obvious that, in this conclusion, he went
farther than his premises warranted; for, al¬
though no necessary connections among physical
events can he traced by our faculties, it does not
therefore follow that such connections are im¬
possible. The only sound inference was, that
the laws of nature are to he discovered, not, as
the ancients supposed, by a priori reasonings
from causes to effects, hut by experience and ob¬
servation. It is but justice to Malebranche to
own, that he was one of the first who placed in
a just and strong light this fundamental prin¬
ciple of the inductive logic.
On the other hand, the objections to the
theory of occasional causes, chiefly insisted on by
Malebranche’s opponents, were far from satis¬
factory. By some it was alleged, that it ascribed
every event to a miraculous interposition of the
Deity; as if this objection were not directly met
by the general and constant laws everywhere
manifested to our senses,—in a departure from
which laws, the very essence of a miracle con¬
sists. Nor was it more to the purpose to con¬
tend, that the beauty and perfection of the uni¬
verse were degraded by excluding the idea of
mechanism ; the whole of this argument turning,
as is manifest, upon an application to Omnipo¬
tence of ideas borrowed from the limited sphere
of human power.3 As to the study of natural
philosophy, it is plainly not at all affected by the
hypothesis in question ; as the investigation and
generalisation of the laws of nature, which are
its only proper objects, present exactly the same
field to our curiosity, whether we suppose these
laws to he the immediate effects of the Divine
agency, or the effects of second causes, placed
beyond the reach of our faculties.3 ^
Such, however, were the chief reasonings op¬
posed to Malebranche by Leibnitz, in order to
prepare the way for'the system of Pre-established
Harmony; a system more nearly allied to that
of occasional causes than its author seems to have
suspected, and encumbered with every solid dif¬
ficulty connected with the other.
From the theory of occasional causes, it is easy
to trace the process which led Malebranche to
1 “ Afin qu’on ne puisse plus douter de la faussete de cette miserable philosophie, il est necessaire de prouver qu il n y
qu’un vrai Dieu, parce qu’il n’y a qu’une vraie cause; que la nature ou la force de chaque chose n’est que la volonte e
Dieu: que toutes les causes naturelles ne sont point des veritables causes, mais seulement des causes occasionelles—Ue a
Verite, Livre vi. 2de Partie, chap. iii. . ,r . .
2 This obiection, frivolous as it is, was strongly urged by Mr Boyle (Inquiry into the Vulgar Idea concerning aturej, a
has been copied from him by Mr Hume, Lord Kaimes, and many other writers. Mr Hume’s words are these:— It ar¬
gues more wisdom to contrive at first the fabric of the world with such perfect foresight, that, of itself, and by its proper
operation, it may serve all the purposes of Providence, than if the great Creator were obliged every moment to adjust its
parts, and animate by his breath all the wheels of that stupendous machine.”—Essay on the Idea of jVeccssary Connection.) An
observation somewhat similar occurs in the Treatise Dc Mundo, commonly ascribed to Aristotle. _
3 In speaking of the theory of occasional causes, Mr Hume has committed a historical mistake, which it maybe proper to
rectify. “ Malebranche,” he observes, and other Cartesians, made the doctrine of the universal and sole efficacy of the
Deity, the foundation of all their philosophy. It had, however, no authority in England. Locke, Clarke, and Cudwortn,
never so much as take notice of it, but suppose all along that matter has a real, though subordinate and derived power.
Hume's Essays, Vol. II. p. 475. Edit, of 1784. . a n a _*u
Mr Hume was probably led to connect, in this last sentence, the name of Clarke with those of Locke and Cudwortn, y
taking for granted that his metaphysical opinions agreed exactly with those commonly ascribed to Sir Isaac Newton. n
fact, on the point now in question, his creed was the same with that of Malebranche. The following sentence is very
nearly a translation of a passage already quoted from the latter. “ The course of nature, truly and properly speaking, is
nothing but the will of God producing certain effects in a continued, regular, constant, and uniform manner.”—Clarke s
Works, Vol. II. p. 698. Fol. Ed.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
79
conclude, that we see all things in God. The
same arguments which convinced him, that the
Deity carries into execution every volition of the
mind, in the movements of the body, could not
fail to suggest, as a farther consequence, that
every perception of the mind is the immediate
effect of the divine illumination. As to the
manner in which this illumination is accom¬
plished, the extraordinary hypothesis adopted
by Malebranche was forced upon him, by the
opinion then universally held, that the imme¬
diate objects of our perceptions are not things
externa], but their ideas or images. The only
possible expedient for reconciling these two ar¬
ticles of his creed, was to transfer the seat of
our ideas from our own minds to that of the
Creator.1
In this theory of Malebranche, there is un¬
doubtedly, as Bayle has remarked,2 an approach
to some speculations of the latter Platonists;
but there is a much closer coincidence between
it and the system of those Hindoo philosophers,
who, according to Sir William Jones, <c believed
that the whole creation was rather an energy
than a work; by which the Infinite Mind, who
is present at all times, and in all places, exhibits
to his creatures a set of perceptions, like a won¬
derful picture, or piece of music, always varied,
yet always uniform.”3
In some of Malebranche’s reasonings upon this
subject, he has struck into the same train of
thought which was afterwards pursued by Berke¬
ley, an author to whom he bore a very strong
resemblance in some of the most characteristical
features of his genius; and, had he not been
restrained by religious scruples, he would, in all
probability, have asserted, not less confidently
than his successor, that the existence of matter
was demonstrably inconsistent with the prin¬
ciples then universally admitted by philosophers.
But this conclusion Malebranche rejects, as not
reconcileable with the words of Scripture, that
“ in the beginning God created the heavens and
the earth.” <£ La foi m’apprend que Dieu a
cree le ciel et la terre. Elle m’apprend que
I’Ecriture est un livre divin. Et ce livre ou son
apparence me dit nettement et positivement,
qu’il y a mille et mille creatures. Done voila
toutes mes apparences changees en realites. II
y a des corps; cela est demontre en toute ri-
gueur la foy supposee.”*
In reflecting on the repeated reproduction of
these, and other ancient paradoxes, by modern
authors, whom it would be highly unjust to ac¬
cuse of plagiarism ;—-still more, in reflecting on
the affinity of some of our most refined theories
to the popular belief in a remote quarter of the
globe, one is almost tempted to suppose, that
human invention is limited, like a barrel-organ,
to a specific number of tunes. But is it not a
fairer inference, that the province of pure Ima¬
gination, unbounded as it may at first appear, is
narrow, when compared with the regions open¬
ed by truth and nature to our powers of observa¬
tion and reasoning?5 Prior to the time of Bacon,
the physical systems of the learned performed
their periodical revolutions in orbits as small as
the metaphysical hypotheses of their successors;
and yet, who would now set any bounds to our
curiosity in the study of the material universe ?
Is it reasonable to think, that the phenomena of
the intellectual world are less various, or less
marked with the signatures of Divine wisdom ?
It forms an interesting circumstance in the
history of the two memorable persons who have
suggested these remarks, that they had once.
1 We are indebted to La Harpe for the preservation of an epigrammatic line (un vers fort plaisant, as he justly calls it),
on this celebrated hypothesis : “ Lid, qui voit tout en Dieu, n'y vuit-il pas qu'il est fou !—C’etoit au moins,” La Harpe adds,
“ un fou qui avoit beaucoup d’esprit.”
* See his Dictionary, article Amelius.
3 Introduction to a Translation of some Hindoo verses.
4 Entretiens sur la Metaphysique, p. 207-
The celebrated doubt of Descartes concerning all truths but the existence of his own mind (it cannot be too often re¬
peated), was the real source, not only of the inconsistency of Malebranche on this head, but of the chief metaphysical
puzzles afterwards started by Berkeley and Hume. The illogical transition by which he attempted to pass from this first
principle to other truths, was early remarked by some of his own followers, who were accordingly led to conclude, that no
man can have full assurance of any thing but of’his own individual existence. If the fundamental doubt of Descartes be admit¬
ted as reasonable, the conclusion of these philosophers (who were distinguished by the name of Egoists), is unavoidable.
5 The limited number of fables, of humorous tales, and even of jests, which, it should seem, are in circulation over the
face of the globe, might perhaps be alleged as an additional confirmation of this idea.
80
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
and only wice, the pleasure of a short interview.
“ The conversation,” we are told, (e turned on
the non-existence of matter. Malebranche,
who had an inflammation in his lungs, and whom
Berkeley found preparing a medicine in his cell,
and cooking it in a small pipkin, exerted his
voice so violently in the heat of their dispute,
that he increased his disorder, which carried
him off a few days after.”1 It is impossible not
to regret, that of this interview there is no other
record;—or rather, that Berkeley had not made
it the groundwork of one of his own dialogues.
Fine as his imagination was, it could scarcely
have added to the picturesque effect of the real
scene.3
Anthony Arnauld, whom I have already men¬
tioned as one of the theological antagonists of
Malebranche, is also entitled to a distinguished
rank among the French philosophers of this
period. In his hook on true and false ideas, writ¬
ten in opposition to Malebranche’s scheme of
our seeing all things in God, he is acknowledg¬
ed by Dr Reid to have struck the first mortal
blow at the ideal theory ; and to have approxi¬
mated very nearly to his own refutation of this
ancient and inveterate prejudice.3 A step so
important would, of itself, be sufficient to esta¬
blish his claim to a place in literary history ; hut
what chiefly induces me again to bring forward
his name, is the reputation he has so j ustly ac¬
quired by his treatise, entitled, The Art of
Thinking ;4 a treatise written by Arnauld, in
conjunction with his friend Nicole, and of which
(considering the time when it appeared) it is
hardly possible to estimate the merits too highly.
No publication, certainly, prior to Locke’s Essay,
can he named, containing so much good sense,
and so little nonsense on the science of Logic ;
and very few have since appeared on the same
subject, which can he justly preferred to it, in
point of practical utility. If the author had
lived in the present age, or had been less fetter¬
ed by a prudent regard to existing prejudices,
the technical part would probably have been re¬
duced within a still narrower compass; but even
there, he has contrived to substitute for the
puerile and contemptible examples of common
logicians, several interesting illustrations from
the physical discoveries of his immediate pre-
1 Biog. Brit. Vol. II. p. 251. ,
2 This interview happened in 1715, when Berkeley was in the thirty-first, and Malebranche m the seventy-seventh
year of his age. What a change in the state of the philosophical world (whether for the better or worse is a different
question) has0taken place in the course of the intervening century ! _
Dr Warburton, who, even when he thinks the most unsoundly, always possesses the rare merit of thinking for mmsell,
is one of the very few English authors who have spoken of Malebranche with the respect due to his extraordinary talents.
« All you say of Malebranche,” he observes in a letter to Dr Hurd, “ is strictly true ; he is an admirable writer. There
is something very different in the fortune of Malebranche and Locke. When Malebranche first appeared, it was with a
general applause and admiration ; when Locke first published his Essay, he had hardly a single approver. Now Locke
is universal, and Malebranche sunk into obscurity. All this may be easily accounted for. The intrinsic merit of either
■was out of the question. But Malebranche supported his first appearance on a philosophy in the highest vogue; that phi¬
losophy has been overturned by the Newtonian, and Malebranche has fallen with his master. It was to no purpose to
tell the world, that Malebranche could stand without him. The public never examines so narrowly. Not but that
there was another cause sufficient to do the business ; and that is, his debasing his noble work with his system of seeing all
things in God. When this happens to a great author, one half of his readers out of folly, the other out of malice, dwell
only on the unsound part, and forget the other, or use all their arts to have it forgotten.
“ But the sage Locke supported himself by no system on the one hand; nor, on the other, did he dishonour himself by
any whimsies. °The consequence of which was, that, neither following the fashion, nor striking the imagination, he, at
first, had neither followers nor admirers ; but being everywhere clear, and everywhere solid, he at length worked his way,
and afterwards was subject to no reverses. He was not affected by the new fashions in philosophy, who leaned upon none
of the old ; nor did he afford ground for the after-attacks of envy and folly by any fanciful hypotheses, which, when grown
stale, are the most nauseous of all things.”
The foregoing reflections on the opposite fates of these two philosophers, do honour on the whole to Warburton’s pene¬
tration ; but the unqualified panegyric on Locke will be now very generally allowed to furnish an additional example of
“ that national spirit, which,” according to Hume, “ forms the great happiness of the English, and leads them to bestow
on all their eminent writers such praises and acclamations, as may often appear partial and excessive.”
3 The following very concise and accurate summary of Arnauld’s doctrine concerning ideas, is given by Brucker. “ An-
tonius Arnaldus, ut argumenta Malebranchii eo fortius everteret, peculiarem sententiam defendit, asseruitque, ideas earum-
que perceptiones esse unum idemque, et non nisi relationibus differre. Ideam scilicet esse, quatenus ad objectum refertur
quod mens considerat; perceptionem vero, quatenus ad ipsam mentem quae percipit; duplicem tamen illam relationem ad
unam pertinere mentis modificationem.”—Hist. Phil, de Ideis, pp. 247. 248. Anthony Arnauld farther held, that “ Mate¬
rial things are perceived immediately by the mind, without the intervention of ideas."—{Hist, de Ideis, p. 26.) In this re¬
spect his doctrine coincided exactly with that of Reid.
4 More commonly known by the name of the Port-Royal Logic.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
81
decessors: and has indulged himself in some
short excursions, which excite a lively regret
that he had not, more frequently and freely,
given scope to his original reflections. Among
these excursions, the most valuable, in my opi¬
nion, is the twentieth chapter of the third part,
which deserves the attention of every logical
student, as an important and instructive supple¬
ment to the enumeration of sophisms given by
Aristotle.1
The soundness of judgment, so eminently
displayed in the Art of Thinking, forms a curi¬
ous contrast to that passion for theological con¬
troversy, and that zeal for what he conceived
to he the purity of the Faith, which seems to
have been the ruling passions of the author’s
mind. He lived to the age of eighty-three, con¬
tinuing to write against Malebranche’s opinions
concerning Nature and Grace, to his last hour.
“ He died,” says his biographer, “ in an obscure
retreat at Brussels, in 1692, without fortune,
and even without the comfort of a servant; he,
whose nephew had been a Minister of State,
and who might himself have been a Cardinal.
The pleasure of being able to publish his senti¬
ments, was to him a sufficient recompense.”
Nicole, his friend and companion in arms, worn
out at length with these incessant disputes, ex¬
pressed a wish to retire from the field, and to
enjoy repose. “ Repose /” replied Arnauld;
<c won’t you have the whole of eternity to re¬
pose in ?”
An anecdote which is told of his infancy,
when considered in connection with his subse¬
quent life, affords a good illustration of the force
of impressions received in the first dawn of
reason. He was amusing himself one day with
some childish sport, in the library of the Cardi¬
nal du Perron, when he requested of the Cardi¬
nal to give him a pen ::—<£ And for what pur¬
pose ?” said the Cardinal.—{£ To write books, like
you, against the Huguenots.” The Cardinal, it
is added, who was then old and infirm, could not
conceal his joy at the prospect of so hopeful a
successor; and, as he was putting the pen into
his hand, said, ££ I give it to you, as the dying
shepherd Damoetas bequeathed his pipe to the
little Corydon.”
The name of Pascal (that prodigy of parts, as
Locke calls him) is more familiar to modern ears
than that of any of the other learned and polish¬
ed anchorites, who have rendered the sanctuary
of Port-Royal so illustrious; but his writings
furnish few materials for philosophical history.
Abstracting from his great merits in mathema¬
tics and in physics, his reputation rests chiefly
on the Provincial Letters ; a work from which
Voltaire, notwithstanding his strong prejudices
against the author, dates the fixation of the
French language; and of which the same ex¬
cellent judge has said, that ££ Moliere’s best
comedies do not excel them in wit, nor the com¬
positions of Bossuet in sublimity.” The enthu¬
siastic admiration of Gibbon for this book, which
he was accustomed from his youth to read once
a year, is well known, and is sufficient to ac¬
count for the rapture with which it never fails
to be spoken of by the erudite vulgar* in this
country. I cannot help, however, suspecting,
1 According to Crousaz, The Art of Thinking contributed more than either the Organon of Bacon, or the Method^ of Des¬
cartes, to improve the established modes of academical education on the Continent—(See the Preface to his Logic,
printed at Geneva, 1724.) Leibnitz himself has mentioned it in the most flattering terms; coupling the name of the
author with that of Pascal, a still more illustrious ornament of the Port-Royal Society:—“ Ingeniosissimus Pascalius in
prseclara dissertatione de ingenio Geometrico, cujus fragmentum extat in egregio Ubro celeberrimi viri. Antonii Ar-
naldi de Arte bene Cogitandi,” &a ; but lest this encomium from so high an authority should excite a curiosity somewhat
out of proportion to the real value of the two works here mentioned, I think it right to add, that the praises bestowed by
Leibnitz, whether on living or dead authors, are not always to be strictly and literally interpreted. . “ No one,” says
Hume,“ is so liable to an excess of admiration as a truly great genius.” Wherever Leibnitz has occasion to refer to any
work of solid merit, this remark applies to him with peculiar force ; partly, it is probable, from his quick and sympathetic
perception of congenial excellence, and partly from a generous anxiety to point it out to the notice of the world. It af¬
fords, on the other hand, a remarkable illustration of the force of prejudice, that Bufller, a learned and most able Jesuit,
should have been so far influenced by the hatred of his order to the Jansenists, as to distinguish the Port-Royal Logic with
the cold approbation of being “ a judicious compilation from former works on the same subject,—particularly from a trea¬
tise by a Spanish Jesuit, Fonstca.,'—Cours de Sciences, p. 873. Paris, 1732. Gibbon also has remarked how much “ the
learned Society of Port-lloyal contributed to establish in France a taste for iust reasoning, simplicity of style, and philoso¬
phical method.”—Misc. Works, Yol. II. p. 70.
2 Erudition Vulgns—Plin. Nat. Hist. Lib. ii.
DISS. I. PART I.
L
82
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
that it is now more praised than read in Great
Britain; so completely have those disputes, to
which it owed its first celebrity, lost their in¬
terest. Many passages in it, indeed, will al¬
ways he perused with delight; hut it may he
questioned, if Gibbon himself would have read
it so often from beginning to end, had it not
been for the strong hold which ecclesiastical con¬
troversies, and the Roman Catholic faith, had
early taken of his mind.
In one respect, the Provincial Letters are well
entitled to the attention of philosophers ; inas¬
much as they present so faithful and lively a
picture of the influence of false religious views
in perverting the moral sentiments of mankind.
The overwhelming ridicule lavished by Pascal on
the whole system of Jesuitical casuistry, and the
happy effects of his pleasantry in preparing,
from a distance, the fall of that formidable
order, might be quoted as proofs, that there are
at least some truths, in whose defence this weapon
may he safely employed;—perhaps with more
advantage than the commanding voice of Reason
herself. The misclnevous absurdities which it
was his aim to correct, scarcely admitted of the
gravity of logical discussion; requiring only the
extirpation or the prevention of those early pre¬
judices which choke the growth of common
sense and of conscience : And for this purpose,
what so likely to succeed with the open and ge¬
nerous minds of youth, as Ridicule, managed
with decency and taste; more especially when
seconded, as in the Provincial Letters, by acute¬
ness of argument, and by the powerful eloquence
of the heart ? In this point of view, few practi¬
cal moralists can boast of having rendered a
more important service than Pascal to the gene¬
ral interests of humanity. Were it not, indeed,
for his exquisite satire, we should already be
tempted to doubt, if, at so recent a date, it were
possible for such extravagances to have main¬
tained a dangerous ascendant over the human
understanding.
The unconnected fragment of Pascal, entitled
Thoughts on Religion, contains various reflec¬
tions which are equally just and ingenious;
some which are truly sublime; and not a few
which are false and puerile: the whole, how¬
ever, deeply tinctured with that ascetic and mor¬
bid melancholy, which seems to have at last
produced a partial eclipse of his faculties. Vol¬
taire has animadverted on this fragment with
much levity and petulance; mingling, at the
same time, with many very exceptionable stric¬
tures, several of which it is impossible to dispute
the justness. The following reflection is worthy
of Addison, and bears a strong resemblance in
its spirit to the amiable lessons inculcated in his
papers on Cheerfulness;1 “To consider the
world as a dungeon, and the whole human race
as so many criminals doomed to execution, is
the idea of an enthusiast; to suppose the world
to be a seat of delight, where we are to expect
nothing but pleasure, is the dream of a Sybarite;
but to conclude that the Earth, Man, and the
lower Animals, are, all of them, subservient to
the purposes of an unerring Providence, is, in
my opinion, the system of a. wise and good
man.”
From the sad history of this great and excel¬
lent person (on whose deep superstitious gloom
it is the more painful to dwell, that, by an un¬
accountable, though not singular coincidence,
it was occasionally brightened by the inoffen¬
sive play of a lively and sportive fancy) the eye
turns with pleasure to repose on the mitts sa-
pientia, and the Elysian imagination of Fenelon.
The interval between the deaths of these two
writers is indeed considerable; but that between
their births does not amount to thirty years;
and, in point of education, both enjoyed nearly
the same advantages.
The reputation of Fenelon as a philosopher
would probably have been higher and more uni¬
versal than it is, if he had not added to the
depth, comprehension, and soundness of his
judgment, so rich a variety of those more pleas¬
ing and attractive qualities, which are common¬
ly regarded rather as the flowers than the fruits
of study. The same remark may be extended
to the Fenelon of England, whose ingenious and
original essays on the Pleasures of Imagination
would have been much more valued by modern
1 Spectator, No. 381 and 387.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
83
metaphysicians, had they been less beautifully
and happily written. The characteristical ex¬
cellence, however, of the Archbishop of Cam-
hray is, that moral wisdom, which (as Shaftes-
hury has well observed), “ comes more from
the heart than from the headand which seems
to depend less on the reach of our reasoning
powers, than on the absence of those narrow
and malignant passions, wliich, on all questions
of ethics and politics (perhaps I might add of
religion also), are the chief source of our specu¬
lative errors.
The Adventures of Telemachus, when consider¬
ed as a production of the seventeenth century,
and still more as the work of a Roman Catholic
Bishop, is a sort of prodigy; and it may, to this
day, be confidently recommended, as the best
manual extant, for impressing on the minds of
youth the leading truths, both of practical mo¬
rals and of political economy. Nor ought it to be
concluded, because these truths appear to lie so
near the surface, and command so immediately
the cordial assent of the understanding, that
they are therefore obvious or trite; for the case
is the same with all the truths most essential to
human happiness. The importance of agricul¬
ture and of religious toleration to the prosperity
of states; the criminal impolicy of thwarting
the kind arrangements of Providence, by re¬
straints upon commerce; and the duty of legis¬
lators to study the laws of the moral world as
the groundwork and standard of their own, ap¬
pear, to minds unsophisticated by inveterate
prejudices, as approaching nearly to the class of
axioms;—yet, how much ingenious and refined
discussion has been employed, even in our own
times, to combat the prejudices which every¬
where continue to struggle against them; and
how remote does the period yet spem, when
there is any probability that these prejudices
shall be completely abandoned !
“ But how,” said Telemachus to Narbal,
“ can such a commerce as this of Tyre be es¬
tablished at Ithaca ?” “ By the same means,”
said Narbal, “ that have established it here.
Receive all strangers with readiness and hospi¬
tality ; let them find convenience and liberty in
your ports; and be careful never to disgust
them by avarice or pride : above all, never re¬
strain the freedom of commerce, by rendering
it subservient to your own immediate gain. The
pecuniary advantages of commerce should be
left wholly to those by whose labour it subsists;
lest this labour, for want of a sufficient motive,
should cease. There are more than equivalent
advantages of another kind, which must neces¬
sarily result to the Prince from the wealth
which a free commerce will bring into his state;
and commerce is a kind of spring, which to di¬
vert from its natural channel is to lose.”1 Had
the same question been put to Smith or to
Franklin in the present age, what sounder ad¬
vice could they have offered ?
In one of Fenelon’s Dialogues of the Dead, the
following remarkable words are put into the
mouth of Socrates: “ It is necessary that a
people should have written laws, always the
same, and consecrated by the whole nation;
that these laws should be paramount to every
thing else; that those who govern should derive
their authority from them alone; possessing an
unbounded power to do all the good which the
laws prescribe, and restrained from every act of
injustice which the laws prohibit.”
But it is chiefly in a work which did not ap¬
pear till many years after his death, that we
have an opportunity of tracing the enlargement
of Fenelon’s political views, and the extent of
his Christian charity. It is entitled, Direction
pour la Conscience dun lloi; and abounds with
as liberal and enlightened maxims of govern¬
ment as, under the freest constitutions, have
ever been offered by a subject to a sovereign.
Where the variety of excellence renders selec¬
tion so difficult, I must not venture upon any
extracts; nor, indeed, would I willingly injure
the effect of the whole by quoting detached pas¬
sages. A few sentences on liberty of conscience
(which I will not presume to translate) may
suffice to convey an idea of the general spirit
with which it is animated. “ Sur toute chose,
ne forcez jamais vos sujets a changer de religion.
» Hawkesworth’s Translation.
84
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Nulle puissance humaine ne peut forcer le re-
tranchement impenetrable tie la liberte du coeur.
La force ne peut jamais persuader les hommes;
elle ne fait que des hypocrites. Quand les rois
se melent de religion, au lieu de la proteger, ils
la mettent en servitude. Accordez a tous la to¬
lerance civile, non en approuvant tout comme
indifferent, mais en souffrant avec patience tout
ce que Dieu souffre, et en tachant de ramener
les hommes par une douce persuasion.”
And so much for the French philosophy of
the seventeenth century. The extracts last
quoted forewarn us, that we are fast approaching
to a new era in the history of the Human
Mind. The glow-worm 'gins to pale his ineffectual
Jire ; and we scent the morning ail of the coming
day. This era I propose to date from the pub¬
lications of Locke and of Leibnitz: but the re¬
marks which I have to offer on their writings,
and on those of their most distinguished suc¬
cessors, I reserve for the Second Part of this
Discourse, confining myself, at present, to a
very short retrospect of the state of philosophy,
during the preceding period, in some other
countries of Europe.1
SECTION III.
Progress of Philosophy during the Seventeenth Century, in some parts of Europe, not included in the
preceding Review.
During the first half of the seventeenth cen¬
tury, the philosophical spirit which had arisen
with such happy auspices in England and in
France, has left behind it few or no traces of its
existence in the rest of Europe. On all ques¬
tions connected with the science of mind (a phrase
which I here use in its largest acceptation), au¬
thority continued to be everywhere mistaken foi
argument; nor can a single work be named,
bearing, in its character, the most distant resem¬
blance to the Organon of Bacon; to the Medita¬
tions of Descartes; or to the bold theories of
that sublime genius, who, soon after, was to shed
so dazzling a lustre on the north of Germany.
Kepler and Galileo still lived;—the former lan¬
guishing in poverty at Prague; the latter op¬
pressed with blindness, and with ecclesiastical
persecution, at Florence: but their pursuits
were of a nature altogether foreign to our pre¬
sent subject.
One celebrated work alone, the treatise of
Grotius De Jure Belli et Pads (first printed in
1625), arrests our attention among the crowd
of useless and forgotten volumes, which were
then issuing from the presses of Holland, Ger¬
many, and Italy. The influence of this treatise,
in giving a new direction to the studies of the
learned, was so remarkable, and continued so
long to operate with undiminished effect, that it
is necessary to allot to the author, and to his
successors, a space considerably larger than may,
at first sight, seem due to their merits. Not¬
withstanding the just neglect into which they
have lately fallen in our universities, it will be
found, on a close examination, that they form
an important link in the history of modern lite¬
rature. It was from their school that most of
our best writers on Ethics have proceeded, and
many of our most original inquirers into the
Human Mind; and it is to the same school (as
1 I have classed Telemaque and the Direction pour la Conscience d'un Roi with the' philosophy of the seventeenth century,
although the publication of the former was not permitted till after the death of Louis XIY. nor that of the latter till 1748.
The tardy appearance of both only shows how far the author had shot a-head of the orthodox religion and politics of his
times.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
85
I shall endeavour to show in the Second Part of
this Discourse), that we are chiefly indebted for
the modern science of Political Economy.1
For the information of those who have not
read the treatise De Jure Belli et Pacis, it may
he proper to observe, that, under this title, Gro-
tius has aimed at a complete system of Natural
Law. Condillac says, that he chose the title, in
order to excite a more general curiosity; add¬
ing (and, I believe, very justly), that many of
the most prominent defects of his works may he
fairly ascribed to a compliance with the taste
of his age. £t The author,” says Condillac,
“ was able to think for himself; but he con¬
stantly labours to support his conclusions by the
authority of others; producing, on many oc¬
casions, in support of the most obvious and in¬
disputable propositions, a long string of quota¬
tions from the Mosaic law; from the Gospels;
from the Fathers of the Church; from the Ca¬
suists; and, not unfrequently, in the very same
paragraph, from Ovid and Aristophanes.” In
consequence of this cloud of witnesses, always
at hand to attest the truth of his axioms, not
only is the attention perpetually interrupted and
distracted; but the author’s reasonings, even
when perfectly solid and satisfactory, fail in
making a due impression on the reader’s mind;
while the very little that there probably was of
systematical arrangement in the general plan of
the book, is totally kept out of view.
In spite of these defects, or rather, perhaps,
in consequence of some of them, the impression
produced by the treatise in question, on its first
publication, was singularly great. The stores
of erudition displayed in it recommended it to
the classical scholar; while the happy applica¬
tion of the author’s reading to the affairs of hu¬
man life, drew the attention of such men as
Gustavus Adolphus; of his Prime Minister, the
Chancellor Oxenstiern; and of the Elector Pa¬
latine, Charles Lewis. The last of these was so
struck with it, that he founded at Heidelberg a
Professorship for the express purpose of teach¬
ing the Law of Nature and Nations;—an office
which he bestowed on Puffendorff, the most
noted, and, on the whole, the most eminent of
those who have aspired to tread in the footsteps
of Grotius.
The fundamental principles of Puflendorff
possess little merit in point of originality, being
a sort of medley of the doctrines of Grotius,
with some opinions of Hobbes; but his book is
entitled to the praise of comparative conciseness,
order, and perspicuity; and accordingly came
very generally to supplant the treatise of Gro¬
tius, as a manual or institute for students, not¬
withstanding its immense inferiority in genius,
in learning, and in classical composition.
The authors who, in different parts of the
Continent, have since employed themselves in
commenting on Grotius and Puflendorff; or in
abridging their systems; or in altering their ar¬
rangements, are innumerable: but notwithstand¬
ing all their industry and learning, it would be
very difficult to name any class of writers whose
labours have been of less utility to the world.
The same ideas are constantly recurring in an
eternal circle; the opinions of Grotius and of
Puffendorff, where they are at all equivocal, are
anxiously investigated, and sometimes involved
in additional obscurity; while, in the meantime,
the science of Natural Jurisprudence never ad¬
vances one single step; but, notwithstanding its
recent birth, seems already sunk into a state of
dotage.2
In perusing the systems now referred to, it is
impossible not to feel a very painful dissatisfac¬
tion, from the difficulty of ascertaining the pre¬
cise object aimed at by the authors. So vague
1 From a letter of Grotius, quoted by Gassendi, we learn, that the treatise De Jure Belli et Pads was undertaken at the
request of his learned friend Peireskius. “ Non otior, sed in illo de jure gentium opere pergo, quod si tale futurum est,^ut
lectores demereri possit, habebit quod tibi debeat posteritas, qui me ad hunc laborem et auxilio et hortatu tuo excitasti. —
Gassendi Opera, Tom. V. p. 294.
2 I have borrowed, in this last paragraph, some expressions from Lampredi. “ Grotii et Puffendorfii interpretes, yin
quidem diligentissimi, sed qui vix fructum aliquem tot commentariis, adnotationibus, compendiis, tabulis, cceterisque ejus-
niodi aridissimis laboribus attulerunt: perpetuo circulo eadem res circumagitur, quid uterque senserit quseritur, interdum
etiam utriusque sententise obscurantur; disciplina nostra tamen ne latum quidem unguem progreditur, et dum ahoium
sententise disquiruntur et explanantur, Rerum Natura quasi senio confecta squalescit, neglectaque jacet et mobservata
omnino.—(Juris Publici Theoremata, p. 34.)
86
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
and indeterminate is the general scope of their
researches, that not only are different views of
the subject taken by different writers, hut even
by the same writer in different parts of his
work;—a circumstance which, of itself, suffi¬
ciently accounts for the slender additions they
have made to the stock of useful knowledge;
and which is the real source of that chaos of
heterogeneous discussions, through which the
reader is perpetually forced to fight his way. A
distinct conception of these different views will
be found to throw more light than might at first
be expected on the subsequent history of Moral
and of Political Science; and I shall therefore
endeavour, as accurately as I can, to disen¬
tangle and separate them from each other, at
the risk perhaps of incurring, from some read¬
ers, the charge of prolixity. The most import¬
ant of them may, I apprehend, he referred to
one or other of the following heads :
1. Among the different ideas winch have
been formed of Natural Jurisprudence, one of
the most common (particularly in the earlier
systems) supposes its object to he—to lay down
those rules of j ustice which would he binding on
men living in a social state, without any posi¬
tive institutions; or (as it is frequently called
by writers on this subject), living together in a
state of nature. This idea of the province of
Jurisprudence seems to have been uppermost in
the mind of Grotius, in various parts of his
treatise.
To this speculation about the state of nature,
Grotius was manifestly led by his laudable anxi¬
ety to counteract the attempts then recently
made to undermine the foundations of morality.
That moral distinctions are created entirely by
the arbitrary and revealed will of God, had, be¬
fore his time, been zealously maintained by some
theologians even of the reformed church; while,
among the political theorists of the same period,
it was not unusual to refer these distinctions (as
was afterwards done by Hobbes) to the positive
institutions of the civil magistrate. In opposi¬
tion to both, it was contended by Grotius, that
there is a natural law coeval with the human
constitution, from which positive institutions
derive all their force; a truth which, how ob¬
vious and trite soever it may now appear, was
so opposite in its spirit to the illiberal systems
taught in the monkish establishments, that he
thought it necessary to exhaust in its support
all his stores of ancient learning. The older
writers on Jurisprudence must, I think, he al¬
lowed to have had great merit in dwelling so
much on this fundamental principle; a principle
which renders “ Man a Laic to himself;” and
which, if it he once admitted, reduces the meta¬
physical question concerning the nature of the
moral faculty, to an object merely of speculative
curiosity.1 To this faculty the ancients fre¬
quently give the name of reason; as in that
noted passage of Cicero, where he observes, that
“ right reason is itself a law ; congenial to the
feelings of nature; diffused among all men;
uniform; eternal; calling us imperiously to our
duty, and peremptorily prohibiting every viola¬
tion of it. Nor does it speak,” continues the
same author, “ one language at Rome and ano¬
ther at Athens, varying from place to place, or
time to time; hut it addresses itself t® all na¬
tions and to all ages; deriving its authority
from the common sovereign of the universe, and
carrying home its sanctions to every breast, by
the inevitable punishment which it inflicts on
transgressors.”3
The habit of considering morality under the
similitude of a law (a law engraved on the hu¬
man heart), led not unnaturally to an applica¬
tion to ethical subjects of the technical language
and arrangements of the Roman jurisprudence,
and this innovation was at once facilitated and
1 “ Upon whatever we suppose that our moral faculties are founded, whether upon a certain modification of reason, upon
an original instinct, called a moral sense, or upon some other principle of our nature, it cannot be doubted that they vvere
given us for the direction of our conduct in this life. They carry along with them the most evident badges of this autho¬
rity, which denote that they were set up within us to be the supreme arbiters of all our actions, to superintend all our
senses, passions, and appetites, and to judge how far each of them was either to be indulged or restrained. The rules,
therefore, which they prescribe, are to be regarded as the commands and laws of the Deity, promulgated by those vicege¬
rents which he has set up within us.”—Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments, Part iii. chap, v.)—See also Dr Butler’s very
original and philosophical Discourses cm Umnan Nature.
2 Frag. Lib. iii. de Rep.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
87
encouraged, by certain peculiarities in the nature
of the most important of all the virtues,—that
of justice; peculiarities which, although first
explained fully by Hume and Smith, were too
prominent to escape altogether the notice of pre¬
ceding moralists.
The circumstances which distinguish justice
from the other virtues, are chiefly two. In the
first place, its rules may he laid down with a
degree of accuracy, whereof moral precepts do
not, in any other instance, admit. Secondly,
its rules may he enforced, inasmuch as every
transgression of them implies a violation of the
rights of others. For the illustration of both
propositions, I must refer to the eminent au¬
thors just mentioned.
As, in the case of justice, there is always a
right, on the one hand, corresponding to an obliga¬
tion on the 'other, the various rules enjoined by
it may be stated in two different forms; either
as a system of duties, or as a system of rights.
The former view of the subject belongs properly
to the moralist—the latter to the lawyer. It is
this last view that the writers on Natural Juris¬
prudence (most of whom were lawyers by pro¬
fession) have in general chosen to adopt; al¬
though, in the same works, both views will be
found to be not unfrequently blended together.
To some indistinct conception among the earlier
writers on Natural Law, of these peculiarities
in the nature of justice, we may probably ascribe
the remarkable contrast pointed out by Mr
Smith, between the ethical systems of ancient
and of modern times. c< In none of the ancient
moralists,” he observes, “ do we find any at¬
tempt towards a particular enumeration of the
rules of justice. On the contrary, Cicero in his
Offices, and Aristotle in his Ethics, treat of jus¬
tice in the same general manner in which they
treat of generosity or of charity.”1
But although the rules of justice are in every
case precise and indispensable; and although
their authority is altogether independent of that
of the civil magistrate, it would obviously be
absurd to spend much time in speculating about
the principles of this natural law, as applicable
to men, before the establishment of government.
The same state of society which diversifies the
condition of individuals to so great a degree as
to suggest problematical questions with respect
to their rights and their duties, necessarily gives
birth to certain conventional laws or customs,
by which the conduct of the different members
of the association is to be guided; and agreeably
to which the disputes that may arise among them
are to be adjusted. 1 The imaginary state refer¬
red to under the title of the State of Nature,
though it certainly does not exclude the idea of
a imral right of property arising from labour, yet
excludes all that variety of cases concerning its
alienation and transmission, and the mutual co¬
venants of parties, which the political union
alone could create ;—an order of things, indeed,
which is virtually supposed in almost all the spe¬
culations about which the law of nature is com¬
monly employed.
2. It was probably in consequence of the very
narrow field of study which Jurisprudence, con¬
sidered in this light, was found to open, that its
province was gradually enlarged, so as to com¬
prehend, not merely the rules of justice, but the
rules enjoining all our other moral duties. Nor
was it only the province of J urisprudence which
was thus enlarged. A corresponding extension
was also given, by the help of arbitrary defini¬
tions, to its technical phraseology, till at length
the whole doctrines of practical ethics came to
be moulded into an artificial form, originally
copied from the Roman code. Although j ustice
is the only branch of virtue in which every mo¬
ral Obligation implies a corresponding Right,
the writers on Natural Law have contrived, by
fictions of imperfect rights, and of external rights,
to treat indirectly of all our various duties, by
pointing out the rights which are supposed to he
their correlates:—in other words, they have con¬
trived to exhibit, in the form of a system of
rights, a connected view of the whole duty of
man. This idea of Jurisprudence, which iden¬
tifies its object with that of Moral Philosophy,
seems to coincide nearly with that of Puffen-
dorff; and some vague notion of the same sort
1 Theory of Moral Sentiments, Part vii. sect. iv.
88
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
has manifestly given birth to many of the di¬
gressions of, Grotius.
Whatever judgment may now he pronounced
on the effects of this innovation, it i^ certain
that they were considered, not only at the time,
but for many years afterwards, as highly favour¬
able. A very learned and respectable writer,
Mr Carmichael of Glasgow, compares them to
the improvements made in Natural Philosophy
by the followers of Lord Bacon. £< No person,’'
he observes, “ liberally educated, can be igno¬
rant, that, within the recollection of ourselves
and of our fathers, philosophy has advanced to
a state of progressive improvement hitherto un¬
exampled ; in consequence partly of the rejection
of scholastic absurdities, and partly of the ac¬
cession of new discoveries. Nor does this re¬
mark apply solely to Natural Philosophy, in
which the improvements accomplished by the
united labours of the learned have forced them¬
selves on the notice even of the vulgar, by their
palpable influence on the mechanical arts. The
other branches of philosophy also have been pro¬
secuted during the last century with no less suc¬
cess ; and none of them in a more remarkable
degree than the science of Morals.
“ This science, so much esteemed, and so as¬
siduously cultivated by the sages of antiquity,
lay, for a length of time, in common with all the
other useful arts, buried in the rubbish of the
dark ages, till (soon after the commencement of
the seventeenth century), the incomparable
treatise of Grotius de Jure Belli et Pacis restored
to more than its ancient splendour that part of
it which defines the relative duties of individu¬
als ; and which, in consequence of the immense
variety of cases comprehended under it, is by
far the most extensive of any. Since that period,
the most learned and polite scholars of Europe,
as if suddenly roused by the alarm of a trumpet,
have vied with each other in the prosecution of
this study,—so strongly recommended to their
attention, not merely by its novelty, but by the
importance of its conclusions, and the dignity
of its object.”1
I have selected this passage, in preference to
many others that might be quoted to the same
purpose from writers of higher name; because,
in the sequel of this historical sketch, it appears
to me peculiarly interesting to mark the progress
of Ethical and Political speculation in that seat
of learning, which, not many years afterwards,
was to give birth to the Theory of Moral Senti¬
ments, and to the Inquiry into the Nature and Causes
of the Wealth of Nations. The powerful effect
which the last of these works has produced on
the political opinions of the whole civilised world,
renders it unnecessary, in a Discourse destined
to form part of a Scotish Encyclopedia, to offer
any apology for attempting to trace, with some
1 The last sentence is thus expressed in the original. “ Ex illo tempore, quasi classico dato, ah eruditissimis passim et
politissimis viris excoli certatim ccepit, utilissima haec nobilissimaque doctrina.”—See the edition of PuffendorfF, De Officio
Hominis et Civis, by Professor Gerschom Carmichael of Glasgow, 1724 ; an author whom Dr Hutchison pronounces to be
“ by far the best commentator on Puffendorff; and “ whose notes," he adds, “ are of much more value than the text."—
See his short Introduction to Moral Philosophy.
PuffendorfF’s principal work, entitled De Jure Naturce et Gentium, was first printed in 1672, and was afterwards abridged
by the author into the small volume referred to in the foregoing paragraph. The idea of PufFendorfF’s aim, formed by Mr
Carmichael, coincides exactly with the account of it given in the text: “ Hoc demum tractatu edito, facile intellexerunt
aequiores harum rerum arbitri, non aliam esse genuinam Morum Philosophiam, quam quae ex evidentibus principiis, in ipsa
rerum natura fundatis, hominis atque civis officia, in singulis vitae humanse circumstantiis debita, eruit ac demonstrat;
atque adeo Juris Naturalis scientiam, quantumvis diversam ab Ethica quae in scholis dudum obtinuerat, prae se ferret
faciem, non esse, quod ad scopum et rem tractandam, vere aliam disciplinam, sed eandem rectius duntaxat et solidius tra-
ditam, ita ut, ad quam prius male collineaverit, tandem reipsa feriret scopum.”—See Carmichael’s edition of the treatise
De Officio Hominis et Civis, p. 7-
To so late a period did this admiration of the treatise De Officio Hominis et Civis, continue in our Scotch Universities,
that the very learned and respectable Sir John Pringle (afterwards President of the Royal Society of London), adopted it
as the text-book for his lectures, while he held the Professorship of Moral Philosophy at Edinburgh. Nor does the case
seem to have been different in England. “ I am going,” says Gray, in a letter written while a student at Cambridge, “ to
attend a lecture on one PufFendorfF.” And, much in the same spirit, Voltaire thus expresses himself with respect to the
schools of the Continent:—“ On est partage, dans les ecoles, entre Grotius et PufFendorfF. Croyez-moi, lisez les Offices
de Ciceron.” From the contemptuous tone of these two writers, it should seem that the old systems of Natural Jurispru¬
dence had entirely lost their credit among men of taste and of enlarged views, long before they ceased to form an essential
part of academical instruction; thus affording an additional confirmation of Mr Smith’s complaint, that the greater part of
universities have not been very forward to adopt improvements after they were made; and that several of those learned
societies have chosen to remain, for a long time, the sanctuaries in which exploded systems found shelter and protection,
after they had been hunted out of every other corner of the world.” Considering his own successful exertions in his aca¬
demical capacity, to remedy this evil, it is more than probable that Mr Smith had Grotius and PufFendorfF in his view
when he wrote the foregoing sentence.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
89
minuteness, the train of thought by which an
undertaking, so highly honourable to the lite¬
rary character of our country, seems to have
been suggested to the author.
The extravagance of the praise lavished on
Grotius and Puffendorff, in the above citation
from Carmichael, can be accounted for only by
the degraded state into which Ethics had fallen
in the hands of those who were led to the study
of it, either as a preparation for the casuistical
discussions subservient to the practice ofauricular
confession, or to justify a scheme of morality
which recommended the useless austerities of an
ascetic retirement, in preference to the manly
duties of social life. The practical doctrines
inculcated by the writers on Natural Law, were
all of them favourable to active virtue; and, how
reprehensible soever in point of form, were not
only harmless, but highly beneficial in their
tendency. They were at the same time so di¬
versified (particularly in the work of Grotius)
with beautiful quotations from the Greek and
Roman classics, that they could not fail to pre¬
sent a striking contrast to the absurd and illibe¬
ral systems which they supplanted; and per¬
haps to these passages, to which they thus gave
a sort of systematical connection, the progress
which the science made in the course of the
eighteenth century may, in no inconsiderable
degree, be ascribed. Even now, when so very
different a taste prevails, the treatise de Jure
Belli et Pads possesses many charms to a classi¬
cal reader; who, although he may not always
set a very high value on the author’s reasonings,
must at least be dazzled and delighted with the
splendid profusion of his learning.
The field of Natural Jurisprudence, however,
was not long to remain circumscribed within the
narrow limits commonly assigned to the province
of Ethics. The contrast between natural law
and positive institution, which it constantly pre¬
sents to the mind, gradually and insensibly
suggested the idea of comprehending under it
every question concerning right and wrong, on
which positive law is silent. Hence the origin
of two different departments of Jurisprudence,
little attended to by some of the first authors
who treated of it, but afterwards, from their
practical importance, gradually encroaching
DISS. I. PART. I.
more and more on those ethical disquisitions by
which they were suggested. Of these depart¬
ments, the one refers to the conduct of indivi¬
duals in those violent and critical moments when
the bonds of political society are torn asunder ;
the other, to the mutual relations of independ¬
ent communities. The questions connected with
the former article, lie indeed within a compara¬
tively narrow compass; but on the latter so
much has been written, that what was formerly
called Natural Jurisprudence, has been, in later
times, not unfrequently distinguished by the
title of the Law of Nature and Nations. The
train of thought by which both subjects came to
be connected with the systems now under con¬
sideration, consists of a few very simple and
obvious steps.
As an individual who is a member of a politi¬
cal body necessarily gives up his will to that of
the governors who are entrusted by the people
with the supreme power, it is his duty to sub¬
mit to those inconveniences which, in conse¬
quence of the imperfection of all human esta¬
blishments, may incidentally fall to his own lot.
This duty is founded on the Law of Nature,
from which, indeed, (as must appear evident on
the slightest reflection) conventional law derives
all its moral force and obligation. The great
end, however, of the political union being a
sense of general utility, if this end should be
manifestly frustrated, either by the injustice of
laws, or the tyranny of rulers, individuals must
have recourse to the principles of Natural Law,
in order to determine how far it is competent
for them to withdraw themselves from their
country, or to resist its governors by force. To
Jurisprudence, therefore, considered in this light,
came with great propriety to be referred all
those practical discussions which relate to the
limits of allegiance, and the right of resistance.
By a step equally simple, the province of the
science was still farther extended. As inde¬
pendent states acknowledge no superior, the
obvious inference was, that the disputes arising
among them must be determined by an appeal
to the Law of Nature; and accordingly, this law,
when applied to states, forms a separate part of
Jurisprudence, under the title of the Law of Na¬
tions. By some writers we are told, that the
M
90
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
general principles of the Law of Nature, and of
the Law of Nations, are one and the same, and
that the distinction between them is merely ver¬
bal. To this opinion, which is, very confidently
stated by Hobbes,1 Puffendorff has given his
sanction 5 and in conformity to it, contents him¬
self with laying down the general principles of
Natural Law, leaving it to the reader to apply it
as he may find necessary, to individuals or to
societies.
The later writers on Jurisprudence have
thought it expedient to separate the law of na¬
tions from that part of the science which treats
of the duties of individuals ;* but without being
at sufficient pains to form to themselves a definite
idea of the object of their studies. Whoever
takes the trouble to look into their systems, will
immediately perceive, that their leading aim is
not, as might have been expected, to ascertain
the great principles of morality binding on all
nations in their intercourse with each other ; or
to point out with what limitations the ethical
rules recognised among individuals must be
understood, when extended to political and un¬
connected bodies; but to exhibit a digest of
those laws and usages, which, partly from con¬
siderations of utility, partly from accidental cir¬
cumstances, and partly from positive conven¬
tions, have gradually arisen among those states
of Christendom, which, from their mutual con¬
nections, may be considered as forming one great
republic. It is evident, that such a digest has
no more connection with the Law of Nature,
properly so called, than it has with the rules of
the Roman Law, or of any other municipal code.
The details contained in it are highly interesting
and useful in themselves ; but they belong to a
science altogether different; a science, in which
the ultimate appeal is made, not to abstract
maxims of right and wrong, but to precedents,
to established customs, and to the authority of
the learned.
The intimate alliance, however, thus establish¬
ed between the Law of Nature and the conven¬
tional Law of Nations, has been on the whole
attended with fortunate effects. In consequence
of the discussions concerning questions of justice
and of expediency which came to be blended
with the details of public law, more enlarged
and philosophical views have gradually present¬
ed themselves to the minds of speculative states¬
men ; and, in the last result, have led, by easy
steps, to those liberal doctrines concerning com¬
mercial policy, and the other mutual relations
of separate and independent states, which, if they
should ever become the creed of the rulers of
mankind, promise so large an accession to hu¬
man happiness.
1 “ Lex Naturalis dividi potest in naturalem hominum quae sola obtinuit dici Lex Naturae, et naturaleny civitatum
quae dici potest Lex Gentium, vulgo autem Jus Gentium appellatur. Praecepta utriusque eadem sunt; sed quia civitates
semel institute induunt proprietates hominum personates, lex quam loquentes de hominum singulorum officio naturalem
dicimus, applicata totis civitatibus, nationibus, sive gentibus, vocatur Jus Gentium.”—De Give, cap. xiv. § 4.
In a late publication, from the title of which some attention to dates might have been expected, we are told, that
“ Hobbes’s book De Give appeared but a little time before the treatise of Grotius whereas, in point of fact, Hobbes’s book
did not appear till twenty-two years after it. A few copies were indeed printed at Paris, and privately circulated by Hobbes,
as early as 1642, but the book was not published till 1047—(See “ An Inquiry into the Foundation and History of the Law of
Nations in Europe," &c. by Robert Ward of the Inner Temple, Esq. London, 1795). This inaccuracy, however, is trifling,
when compared with those committed in the same work, in stating the distinguishing doctrines of the two systems.
As a writer on the Law of Nations, Hobbes is now altogether unworthy of notice. I shall therefore only remark on this
part of his philosophy, that its aim is precisely the reverse of that of Grotius; the latter labouring, through the whole 01
his treatise, to extend, as far as possible, among independent states, the same laws of justice and. of humanity which are
universally recognised among individuals ; while Hobbes, by inverting the argument, exerts his ingenuity to shew, that
the morafrepulmon which commonly exists between independent and neighbouring communities, is an exact picture of that
which existed among individuals prior to the origin of government. The inference, indeed, was most illogical, inasmuch
as it is the social attraction among individuals which is the source of the mutual repulsion among nations, and as this at¬
traction invariably operates with the greatest force where the individual is the most completely independent ol his
species, and where the advantages of the political union are the least sensibly felt. If, in any state of human nature, it be
in danger of becoming quite evanescent, it is in large and civilised empires, where man becomes indispensably necessary to
man, depending for the gratification of his artificial wants on the co-operation of thousands of his fellow citizens.
Let me add, that the theory so fashionable at present, which resolves the whole of morality into the principle of utility,
is more nearly akin to Hobbism, than some of its partisans are aware of.
2 The credit of this improvement is ascribed by Vattel (one of the most esteemed writers on the subject), to the cele¬
brated German philosopher 'VVolfius, whose labours in this department of study he estimates very highly—(Questions de
Droit Naturel. Berne, 1762.) Of this great work I know nothing but the title, which is not calculated to excite much
curiosity in the present times . “ Christiani Wolfii Jus Naturae methodo scientifica pertractatum, in 9 Tomos distributum.
(Francof. 1740.) “ Non est,” says Lampredi, himself a professor of public law, “ qui non deterreatur tanta librorum
farragine, quasi vero Herculeo labore opus esset ut quis honestatem et justitiam addiscat.”
DISSERTATION FIRST.
91
3. Another idea of Natural Jurisprudence,
essentially distinct from those hitherto mention¬
ed, remains to be considered. According to
this, its object is to ascertain the general prin¬
ciples of justice which ought to he recognised in
every municipal code; and to which it ought to
be the aim of every legislator to accommodate
his institutions. It is to this idea of Jurispru¬
dence that Mr Smith has given his sanction in
the conclusion of his Theory of Moral Senti¬
ments ; and this he seems to have conceived to
have been likewise the idea of Grotius, in the
treatise de Jure Belli et Pads.
“ It might have been expected,” says Mr
Smith, “ that the reasonings of lawyers upon
the different imperfections and improvements
of the laws of different countries, should have
given occasion to an inquiry into what were
the natural rules of justice, independent of all
positive institution. It might have been ex¬
pected, that these reasonings should have led
them to aim at establishing a system of what
might properly he called Natural Jurisprudence,
or a theory of the principles which ought to run
through, and to be the foundation of the laws of all
nations. But, though the reasonings of lawyers
did produce something of this kind, and though
no man has treated systematically of the laws of
any particular country, without intermixing in
bis work many observations of this sort, it was
very late in the world before any such general
system was thought of, or before the philosophy
of laws was treated of by itself, and without
regard to the particular institutions of any na¬
tion. Grotius seems to have been the first who
attempted to give the world any thing like a
system of those principles which ought to run
through, and be the foundation of the laws of
all nations; and his Treatise of the Laws of
Peace and War, with all its imperfections, is per¬
haps, at this day, the most complete work that
bas yet been given on the subject.”
Whether this was, or was not, the leading
object of Grotius, it is not material to decide ;
but if this was his object, it will not be disputed
that he has executed his design in a very desul¬
tory manner, and that he often seems to have
lost sight of it altogether, in the midst of those
miscellaneous speculations on political, ethical,
and historical subjects, which form so large a
portion of his Treatise, and which so frequently
succeed each other without any apparent con¬
nection or common aim.1
Nor do the views of Grotius appear always
enlarged or just, even when he is pointing at
the object described by Mr Smith. The Roman
system of Jurisprudence seems to have warped,
in no inconsiderable degree, his notions on all
questions connected with the theory of legisla¬
tion, and to have diverted his attention from
that philosophical idea of law, so well expressed
by Cicero,—“ Non a praetoris edicto, neque a
duodecim tabulis, sed penitus ex intima philo-
sophia, hauriendam juris disciplinam.” In this
idolatry, indeed, of the Roman law, he has not
gone so far as some of his commentators, who
have affirmed, that it is only a different name
for the Law of Nature; but that his partiality
for his professional pursuits has often led him to
overlook the immense difference between the
state of society in ancient and modern Europe,
will not, I believe, be now disputed. It must,
at the same time, be mentioned to his praise,
that no writer appears to have been, in theory,
more completely aware of the essential distinc¬
tion between Natural and Municipal laws. In
one of the paragraphs of his Prolegomena, he
mentions it as a part of his general plan, to illus¬
trate the Roman code, and to systematise those
parts of it which have their origin in the Law
of Nature. “ The task,” says he, “ of mould¬
ing it into the form of a system, has been pro¬
jected by many, but hitherto accomplished by
none. Nor indeed was the thing possible, while
so little attention was paid to the distinction
between natural and positive institutions; for
the former being everywhere the same, may be
easily traced to a few general principles, while
the latter, exhibiting different appearances at
different times, and in different places, elude
1 “ Of what stamp,” says a most ingenious and original thinker, “ are the works of Grotius, Puffendorff, and Burla-
maqm? Are they political or ethical, historical or juridical, expository or censorial?—Sometimes one thi-ng, sometimes
another: they seem hardly to have settled the matter with themselves.”—Bentham’s Introduction to the Principles of Mo¬
rals and Legislation, p. 327-
92
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
every attempt towards methodical arrangement,
no less than the insulated facts which indi¬
vidual objects present to our external senses.
This passage of Grotius has given great of¬
fence to two of the most eminent of his com¬
mentators, Henry and Samuel de Cocceii, who
have laboured much to vindicate the Roman le¬
gislators against that indirect censure which the
words of Grotius appear to convey. ct My chief
objtfct,” says the latter of those writers, “ was,
by deducing the Roman Law from its source in
the nature of things, to reconcile Natural Juris¬
prudence with the civil code; and, at the same
time, to correct the supposition implied in the
foregoing passage of Grotius, which is indeed one
of the most exceptionable to be found in his work.
The remarks on this subject, scattered over the
following commentary, the reader will find ar¬
ranged in due order in my twelfth Preliminary
Dissertation, the chief design of which is to sys¬
tematise the whole Roman Law, and to demon¬
strate its beautiful coincidence with the Law of
Nature.” In the execution of this design, Coc¬
ceii must, I think, be allowed to have contri¬
buted a very useful supplement to the jurispru¬
dential labours of Grotius, the Dissertation in
question being eminently distinguished by that
distinct and luminous method, the want of
which renders the study of the treatise de Jure
Belli ct PcLcis so peculiarly irksome and unsatis¬
factory.
The superstitious veneration for the Roman
code expressed by such writers as the Cocceii,
will appear less wonderful, when we attend to
the influence of the same prejudice on the libe¬
ral and philosophical mind of Leibnitz; an au¬
thor who has not only gone so far as to com¬
pare the civil law (considered as a monument
of human genius) with the remains of the an¬
cient Greek geometry; but has strongly inti¬
mated his dissent from the opinions of those who
have represented its principles as being fre¬
quently at variance with the Law of Nature.
In one very powerful paragraph, he expresses
himself thus:—“ I have often said, that, after
the writings of geometricians, there exists no¬
thing which, in point of strength, subtlety, and
depth, can be compared to the works of the Ro¬
man lawyers. And as it would be scarcely pos¬
sible, from mere intrinsic evidence, to distin¬
guish a demonstration of Euclid’s from one of
Archimedes or of Appollonius (the style of all
of them appearing no less uniform than if rea¬
son herself were speaking through their organs),
so also the Roman lawyers all resemble each
other like twin-brothers; inasmuch that, from
the style alone of any particular opinion or ar¬
gument, hardly any conjecture could be formed
about its author. Nor are the traces of a re¬
fined and deeply meditated system of Natural Ju¬
risprudence anywhere to be found more visible,
or in greater abundance. And even in those
cases where its principles are departed from,
either in compliance with the language conse¬
crated by technical forms, or in consequence of
new statutes, or of ancient traditions, the con¬
clusions which the assumed hypothesis renders
it necessary to incorporate with the eternal dic¬
tates of right reason, are deduced with the
soundest logic, and with an ingenuity that ex¬
cites admiration. Nor are these deviations from
the Law of Nature so frequent as is commonly
apprehended."
In the last sentence of this passage, Leibnitz
had probably an eye to the works of Grotius and
his followers; which, however narrow and ti¬
mid in their views they may now appear, were,
for a long time, regarded among civilians as
savouring somewhat of theoretical innovation,
and of political heresy.
To all this may be added, as a defect still
more important and radical in the systems of
Natural J urisprudence considered as models of
universal legislation, that their authors reason
concerning laws too abstractedly, without spe¬
cifying the particular circumstances of the so¬
ciety to which they mean that their conclusions
should be applied. It is very justly observed
by Mr Bentham, that “ if there are any books
of universal Jurisprudence, they must be look¬
ed for within very narrow limits.” He cer¬
tainly? however, carries this idea too far, when
he asserts, that “ to be susceptible of an uni¬
versal application, all that a book of the expo¬
sitory kind can have to treat of is the import
of words; and that, to be strictly speaking
universal, it must confine itself to terminology;
that is, to an explanation of such words con-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
93
nected with law, as power, right, obligation, li¬
berty, to which are words pretty exactly cor¬
respondent in all languages.”1 His expres¬
sions, too, are somewhat unguarded, when he
calls the Law of Nature “ an obscure phantom,
which in the imaginations of those who go in
chase of it, points sometimes to manners, some¬
times to laws, sometimes to what law is, some¬
times to what it ought to be”* Nothing, indeed,
can be more exact and judicious than this de¬
scription, when restricted to the Law of Nature,
as commonly treated of by writers on Jurispru¬
dence ; but if extended to the Law of Nature, as
originally understood among ethical writers, it
is impossible to assent to it, without abandon¬
ing all the principles on which the science of
morals ultimately rests. With these obvious,
but, in my opinion, very essential limitations, I
perfectly agree with Mr Bentham, in consider¬
ing an abstract code of laws as a thing equally
unphilosophical in the design, and useless in the
execution.
In stating these observations, I would not be
understood to dispute the utility of turning the
attention of students to a comparative view of
the municipal institutions of different nations;
but only to express my doubts whether this can
be done with advantage, by referring these in¬
stitutions to that abstract theory called the Law
of Nature, as to a common standard. The code
of some particular country must be fixed on as
a groundwork for our speculations; and its laws
studied, not as consequences of any abstract
principles of justice, but in their connection
with the circumstances of the people among
whom they originated. A comparison of these
laws with the corresponding laws of other na¬
tions, considered also in their connection with
the circumstances whence they arose, would
form a branch of study equally interesting and
useful, not merely to those who have in view
the profession of law, but to all who receive the
advantages of a liberal education. In fixing on
such a standard, the preference must undoubt¬
edly be given to the Roman Law, if for no other
reason than this, that its technical language is
more or less incorporated with all our munici¬
pal regulations in this part of the world: and
the study of this language, as well as of the
other technical parts of Jurisprudence (so re¬
volting to the taste when considered as the ar¬
bitrary jargon of a philosophical theory), would
possess sufficient attractions to excite the curio¬
sity, when considered as a necessary passport to
a knowledge of that system which so long de¬
termined the rights of the greatest and most
celebrated of nations.
“ Universal grammar,” says Dr Lowth,
<{ cannot be taught abstractedly; it must be
done with reference to some language already
known, in which the terms are to be explained
and the rules exemplified.”3 The same obser¬
vation may be applied (and for reasons strik¬
ingly analogous) to the science of Natural or
Universal Jurisprudence.
Of the truth of this last proposition Bacon
seems to have been fully aware; and it was
manifestly some ideas of the same kind which
gave birth to Montesquieu’s historical specula¬
tions with respect to the origin of laws, and the
reference which they may be expected to bear,
in different parts of the world, to the physical
and moral circumstances of the nations among
whom they have sprung up. During this long
interval, it would be difficult to name any in¬
termediate writer, by whom the important con¬
siderations just stated were duly attended to.
In touching formerly on some of Bacon’s
ideas concerning the philosophy of law, I quoted
a few of the most prominent of those fortunate
anticipations, so profusely scattered over his
works, which, outstripping the ordinary march
of human reason, associate his mind with the
luminaries of the eighteenth century, rather
than with his own contemporaries. These an¬
ticipations, as well as many others of a similar
description, hazarded by his bold yet prophetic
imagination, have often struck me as resembling
the pierres Lattente jutting out from the corners
of an ancient building, and inviting the fancy
to complete what was left unfinished of the
architect’s design;—or the slight and broken
sketches traced on the skirts of an American
1 Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation, p. 323.
Ibid. p. 327-
3 Preface to his English Grammar.
94
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
map, to connect its chains of hills and branches
of rivers with some future survey of the con¬
tiguous wilderness. Yielding to such impres¬
sions, and eager to pursue the rapid flight of
his genius, let me abandon for a moment the
order of time, while I pass from the Fontes Ju¬
ris to the Spirit of Laws. To have a just con¬
ception of the comparatively limited views of
Grotius, it is necessary to attend to what was
planned by his immediate predecessor, and first
executed (or rather first begun to be executed)
by one of his remote successors.
The main object of the Spirit of Laws (it is
necessary here to premise) is to show, not, as
has been frequently supposed, what laws ought
to be, but how the diversities in the physical
and moral circumstances of the human race
have contributed to produce diversities in their
political establishments, and in their municipal
regulations.1 On this point, indeed, an appeal
may be made to the author himself. e£ I write
not,” says he, 44 to censure any thing establish¬
ed in any country whatsoever; every nation
will here find the reasons on which its maxims
are founded.” This plan, however, which,
when understood with proper limitations, is
highly philosophical, and which raises Juris¬
prudence, from the uninteresting and useless
state in which we find it in Grotius and Puffen-
dorff, to be one of the most agreeable and im¬
portant branches of useful knowledge (although
the execution of it occupies by far the greater
part of his work), is prosecuted by Montesquieu
in so very desultory a manner, that I am in¬
clined to think he rather fell into it insensibly,
in consequence of the occasional impulse of ac¬
cidental curiosity, than from any regular de¬
sign he had formed to himself when he began
to collect materials for that celebrated perform¬
ance. He seems, indeed, to confess this in the
following passage of his preface : 44 Often have
I begun, and as often laid aside, this undertak¬
ing. I have followed my observations without
any fixed plan, and without thinking either of
rules or exceptions. I have found the truth
only to lose it again.”
But whatever opinion we may form on this
point, Montesquieu enjoys an unquestionable
claim to the grand idea of connecting Juris¬
prudence with History and Philosophy, in such
a manner as to render them all subservient to
their mutual illustration. Some occasional dis¬
quisitions of the same kind may, it is true, be
traced in earlier writers, particularly in the
works of Bodinus; but they are of a nature too
trifling to detract from the glory of Montesquieu
When we compare the jurisprudential researches
of the latter with the systems previously in pos¬
session of the schools, the step Avhich he made
appears to have been so vast as almost to justify
the somewhat too ostentatious motto prefixed to
them by the author; Prolem sine Matre creatam.
Instead of confining himself, after the example of
his predecessors, to an interpretation of one part
of the Roman code by another, he studied the
Spirit of these laws in the political views of
their authors, and in the peculiar circumstances
of that extraordinary race. He combined the
science of law with the history of [political
society, employing the latter to account for the
varying aims of the legislator; and the former,
in its turn, to explain the nature of the govern¬
ment, and the manners of the people. Nor did
he limit his inquiries to the Roman Law, and to
Roman History; but, convinced that the general
principles of human nature are everywhere the
same, he searched for new lights among the sub¬
jects of every government, and the inhabitants
of every climate; and, while he thus opened
inexhaustible and unthought of resources to the
student of Jurisprudence, he indirectly marked
out to the legislator the extent and the limits of
bis power, and recalled the attention of the
philosopher from abstract and useless theories,
to the only authentic monuments of the history
of mankind.2
1 this, though somewhat ambiguously expressed, must, I think, have been the idea of D’Alembert in the following sen¬
tence ; " Dans cet ouvrage, M. de Montesquieu s’occupe moins des loix qu’on a faites, que de celles qu’on a du faire.”—
(Eloge de M. de Montesquieu.) According to the most obvious interpretation of his words, they convey a meaning
which I conceive to be the very reverse of the truth.
- As examples ot Montesquieu’s peculiar and characteristical style of thinking in The Spirit of Laws, may be mentioned
lus Observations on the Origin and Revolutions of the Roman Laws on Successions ; and what he has written on the History of the
Civil Laws in his own Country; above all, his Theory of the Feudal Laws among the Franks, considered in relation to the re-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
95
This view of law, which unites History and
Philosophy with Jurisprudence, has heen follow¬
ed out with remarkable success by various au¬
thors since Montesquieu’s time; and for a con¬
siderable number of years after the publication
of the Spirit of Laws, became so very fashionable,
particularly in this country, that many seem
to have considered it, not as a step towards a
farther end, but as exhausting the whole science
of Jurisprudence. For such a conclusion there
is undoubtedly some foundation, so long as we
confine our attention to the ruder periods of so¬
ciety, in which governments and laws may be
universally regarded as the gradual result of
time and experience, of circumstances and emer¬
gencies. In enlightened ages, however, there
cannot be a doubt, that political wisdom comes
in for its share in the administration of human
affairs; and there is reasonable ground for hop¬
ing, that its influence will continue to increase,
in proportion as the principles of legislation are
more generally studied and understood. To
suppose the contrary, would reduce us to be
mere spectators of the progress and decline of so¬
ciety, and put an end to every species of pa¬
triotic exertion.
Montesquieu’s own aim in his historical dis¬
quisitions, was obviously much more deep and
refined. In various instances, one would almost
think he had in his mind the very shrewd
aphorism of Lord Coke, that, t£ to trace an
error to its fountain-head, is to refute it—a
species of refutation, which, as Mr Bentham
has well remarked, is, with many understand¬
ings, the only one that has any weight.1 To
men prepossessed with a blind veneration for the
wisdom of antiquity, and strongly impressed
with a conviction that every thing they see
around them is the result of the legislative wis¬
dom of their ancestors, the very existence of a
legal principle, or of an established custom, be¬
comes an argument in its favour; and an argu¬
ment to which no reply can be made, but by
tracing it to some acknowledged prejudice, or to
a form of society so different from that existing
at present, that the same considerations which
serve to account for its first origin, demonstrate
indirectly the expediency of now accommodating
it to the actual circumstances of mankind.
According to this view of the subject, the
speculations of Montesquieu were ultimately
directed to the same practical conclusion with
that pointed out in the prophetic suggestions of
Bacon; aiming, however, at this object, by a
process more circuitous ; and, perhaps, on that
account, the more likely to be effectual. The
plans of both have been since combined with
extraordinary sagacity, by some of the later
writers on Political Economy;2 but with their
systems we have no concern in the present sec¬
tion. I shall therefore only remark, in addition
to the foregoing observations, the peculiar utility
of these researches concerning the history of laws,
in repressing the folly of sudden and violent in¬
novation, by illustrating the reference which
laws must necessarily have to the actual circum¬
stances of a people,—and the tendency which
natural causes have to improve gradually and
progressively the condition ol mankind, under
every government which allows them to enjoy
the blessings of peace and of liberty.
The well-merited popularity of the Spirit of
Laws, gave the first fatal blow to the study of
Natural Jurisprudence; partly by the proofs
volutions of their monarchy. On many points connected with these researches, his conclusions have been since controverte ;
hut all his successors have agreed in acknowledging him as their common master and guide. ..
1 “ If our ancestors have heen all along under a mistake, how came they to have fallen into it ?■ is a ques ion in. na uic y
occurs upon all such occasions. The case is, that, in matters of law more especially, such is the dominion ot authority over oui
minds, and such the prejudice it creates in favour of whatever institution it has taken under its wing, t la , a er a
manner of reasons that can be thought of in favour of the institution have been shewn to be insumcient, we still can¬
not forbear looking to some unassignable and latent reason for its efficient cause, llut it, instead of any such reason, we
can find a cause for it in some notion, of the erroneousness of which we are already satisfied, then at last we are content
to give it up without farther struggle ; and then, and not till then, our satisfaction is complete. —- efenee^ of smy, pp.. ,
2 Above all, by Mr Smith; who, in his Wealth of Nations, has judiciously and skilfully combined with the investigation
of general principles, the most luminous sketches of theoretical history relative to that form of politica socie y v ic las
given birth to so many of the institutions and customs peculiar to modern Europe. “ 1 he strong ray o p n osop nc ig
on this interesting subject,” which, according to Gibbon, “ broke from Scotland in our times, was but a reflection, though
with a far steadier and more concentrated force, from the scattered but brilliant sparks kindled by the genius o on esquieu.
I shall afterwards have occasion to take notice of the mighty influence which his writings have had on t le su sequen
history of Scottish literature.
96
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
which, in every page, the work afforded, of the
absurdity of all schemes of Universal Legisla¬
tion ; and partly by the attractions which it
possessed, in point of eloquence and taste, when
contrasted with the insupportable dulness of the
systems then in possession of the schools. It is
remarkable, that Montesquieu has never once
mentioned the name of Grotius;—in this, pro¬
bably, as in numberless other instances, con¬
ceiving it to be less expedient to attack esta¬
blished prejudices openly and in front, than
gradually to undermine the unsuspected errors
upon which they rest.
If the foregoing details should appear tedious
to some of my readers, I must request them to
recollect, that they relate to a science which,
for much more than a hundred years, constitu¬
ted the whole of philosophy, both ethical and
political, of the largest portion of civilised Eu¬
rope. With respect to Germany, in particu¬
lar, it appears from the Count de Hertzberg,
that this science continued to maintain its un¬
disputed ground, till it was supplanted by that
growing passion for Statistical details, which,
of late, has given a direction so different, and
in some respects so opposite, to the studies of
his countrymen.1
When from Germany we turn our eyes to
the south of Europe, the prospect seems not
merely sterile, but afflicting and almost hope¬
less. Of Spanish literature I know nothing but
through the medium of Translations; a very
imperfect one, undoubtedly, when a judgment
is to be passed on compositions addressed to
the powers of imagination and taste; yet fully
sufficient to enable us to form an estimate of
works which treat of science and philosophy.
On such subjects, it may be safely concluded,
that whatever is unfit to stand the test of a literal
version, is not worth the trouble of being studied
in the original. The progress of the Mind in
Spain during the seventeenth century, we may
therefore confidently pronounce, if not entirely
suspended, to have been too inconsiderable to
merit attention.
“ The only good book,” says Montesquieu,
“ which the Spaniards have to boast of, is that
which exposes the absurdity of all the rest.” In
this remark, I have little doubt that there is a
considerable sacrifice of truth to the pointed
effect of an antithesis. The unqualified censure,
at the same time, of This great man, is not un¬
worthy of notice, as a strong expression of his
feelings with respect to the general insignificance
of the Spanish writers.*
The inimitable work here referred to by
Montesquieu, is itself entitled to a place in this
Discourse, not only as one of the happiest and
most wonderful creations of human fancy, but
as the record of a force of character, and an en¬
largement of mind, which, when contrasted with
the prejudices of the author’s age and nation,
seem almost miraculous. It is not merely
against Books of Chivalry that the satire of Cer¬
vantes is directed. Many other follies and ab¬
surdities of a less local and temporary nature
have their share in his ridicule; while not a
single expression escapes his pen that can give
offence to the most fastidious moralist. Hence
those amusing and interesting contrasts by
which Cervantes so powerfully attaches us to
the hero of his story; chastising the wildest
freaks of a disordered imagination, by a stateli¬
ness yet courtesy of virtue, and (on all subjects
but one) by a superiority of good sense and of
philosophical refinement, which, even under the
most ludicrous circumstances, never cease to
v i connoissance (fes e'tats qu on se plait aujourd’hui d’appeller Statistique, est une de ces sciences qui sont devenues
a la mode, et qui ont pris une vogue generate depuis quelques annees ; elle a presque depossede celle du Droit Public,
qui regnoxt au commencement et jusques vers le milieu du siecle present.”—Reflexions sur la Force des Flats. Par M. le
Comte de Hertzberg. Berlin, 1782.
i m VT*1 ®olillgbro.ke told Mr Spence, as he informs us in his Anecdotes, that Dryden assured him, he v/as more in-
oebted to the Spanish critics, than to the writers of any other nation .’’—(Malone, in a Note on Dryden's Essay on
Dramatic Poesy.
The same anecdote is told, though with a considerable difference in the circumstances, by Warton, in his Essay on
the writings of Pope. “ Lord Bolingbroke assured Pope, that Dryden often declared to him, that he got more from the
Spanish critics, than from the Italian, French, and all other critics put together.”
I suspect that there is some mistake in this story. A Spanish gentleman, equally well acquainted with the literature
of his own country and with that of England, assures me, that he cannot recollect a single Spanish critic from whom
I)ryden can reasonably be supposed to have derived any important lights
DISSERTATION FIRST.
97
command our respect, and to keep alive our
sympathy.
In Italy, notwithstanding the persecution
undergone by Galileo, Physics and Astronomy
continued to he cultivated with success by Tor¬
ricelli, Borelli, Cassini, and others ; and in pure
Geometry, Viviani rose to the very first emi¬
nence, as the Restorer, or rather as the Diviner
of ancient discoveries ; but, in all those studies
which require the animating spirit of civil and
religious liberty, this once renowned country
exhibited the most melancholy symptoms of
mental decrepitude. Rome,” says a French
historian, “ was too much interested in main¬
taining her principles, not to raise every ima¬
ginable barrier against what might destroy them.
Hence that Index of prohibited books, into which
were put the history of the President de Thou ;
the works on the liberties of the Gallican church;
and (who could have believed it?) the transla¬
tions of the Holy Scriptures. Meanwhile, this
tribunal, though always ready to condemn ju¬
dicious authors upon frivolous suspicions of
heresy, approved those seditious and fanatical
theologists, whose writings tended to the en¬
couragement of regicide, and the destruction of
government. The approbation and censure of
books (it is justly added) deserves a place in the
history of the human mind.”
The great glory of the Continent towards the
end of the seventeenth century (I except only the
philosophers of France) was Leibnitz. He was
born as early as 1646, and distinguished him¬
self, while still a very young man, by a display
of those talents which were afterwards to con¬
tend with the united powers of Clarke and of
Newton. I have already introduced his name
among the writers on Natural Law; but, in
every other respect, he ranks more fitly with
the contemporaries of his old age than with
those of his youth. My reasons for thinking so
will appear in the sequel. In the meantime, it
may suffice to remark, that Leibnitz, the Jurist,
belongs to one century, and Leibnitz, the Phi¬
losopher, to another.
In this, and other analogous distributions of
my materials, as well as in the order I have fol¬
lowed in the arrangement of particular facts, it
may be proper, once for all, to observe, that
much must necessarily be left to the discretion¬
ary, though not to the arbitrary decision of the
author’s judgment;—that the dates which sepa¬
rate from each other the different stages in the
progress of Human Reason, do not, like those
which occur in the history of the exact sciences,
admit of being fixed with chronological and in¬
disputable precision; while, in adjusting the
perplexed rights of the innumerable claimants
in this intellectual and shadowy region, a task
is imposed on the writer, resembling not unfre-
quently the labour of him, who should have
attempted to circumscribe, by mathematical
lines, the melting and intermingling colours of
Arachne’s web;
In quo diversi niteant cum mille colores,
Transitus ipse tamen spectantia lumina fallit;
Usque adeo quod tangit idem est, tamen ultima distant.
But I will not add to the number (already
too great) of the foregoing pages, by anticipat¬
ing, and attempting to obviate, the criticisms to
which they may be liable. Nor will I dissem¬
ble the confidence with which, amid a variety
of doubts and misgivings, I look forward to the
candid indulgence of those who are best fitted
to appreciate the difficulties of my undertaking.
I am certainly not prepared to say with John¬
son, that “ I dismiss my work with frigid in¬
difference, and that to me success and miscar¬
riage are empty sounds.” My feelings are more
in unison with those expressed by the same
writer in the conclusion of the admirable pre¬
face to his edition of Shakspeare. One of his
reflections, more particularly, falls in so com¬
pletely with the train of my own thoughts, that
I cannot forbear, before laying down the pen,
to offer it to the consideration of my readers.
“ Perhaps I may not be more censured for
doing wrong, than for doing little ; for raising
in the public, expectations which at last I have
not answered. The expectation of ignorance is
indefinite, and that of knowledge is often tyran¬
nical. It is hard to satisfy those who know not
what to demand, or those who demand by de¬
sign what they think impossible to be done.”
DISS. I. PART. I.
N
.
ei
-
-
-
■
■
DISSERTATION FIRST.
PART SECOND.
In the farther prosecution of the plan of
which I traced the outline in the Preface to the
First Part of this Dissertation, I find it neces¬
sary to depart considerably from the arrange¬
ment which I adopted in treating of the Phi¬
losophy of the seventeenth century. During
that period, the literary intercourse between the
different nations of Europe was comparatively
so slight, that it seemed advisable to consider,
separately and successively, the progress of the
mind in England, in France, and in Germany.
But from the era at which we are now arrived,
Uie Republic of Letters may be justly understood
to comprehend, not only these and other coun¬
tries in their neighbourhood, but every region
of the civilised earth. Disregarding, according¬
ly, all diversities of language and of geographi¬
cal situation, I shall direct my attention to the
intellectual progress of the species in general;
enlarging, however, chiefly on the Philosophy
of those parts of Europe, from whence the rays
of science have, in modern times, diverged to
the other quarters of the globe. I propose also,
in consequence of the thickening crowd of useful
authors, keeping pace in their numbers with the
diffusion of knowledge and of liberality, to allot
separate discourses to the history of Metaphysics,
of Ethics, and of Politics; a distribution which,
while it promises a more distinct and connected
view of these different subjects, will furnish con¬
venient resting-places, both to the writer and
to the reader, and can scarcely fail to place, in
a stronger and more concentrated light, what¬
ever general conclusions may occur in the course
of this survey.
The foregoing considerations, combined with
the narrow limits assigned to the sequel of my
work, will sufficiently account for the contract¬
ed scale of some of the following sketches, when
compared with the magnitude of the questions
to which they relate, and the peculiar interest
which they derive from their immediate influ¬
ence on the opinions of our own times.
In the case of Locke and Leibnitz, with whom
the metaphysical history of the eighteenth cen¬
tury opens, I mean to allow myself a greater de¬
gree of latitude. The rank which I have as¬
signed to both in my general plan seems to re¬
quire, of course, a more ample space for their
leading doctrines, as well as for those of some
of their contemporaries and immediate succes¬
sors, than I can spare for metaphysical systems
of a more modern date; and as the rudiments
of the most important of these are to be found
in the speculations either of one or of the other,
I shall endeavour, by connecting with my re¬
view of their works, those longer and more ab¬
stract discussions which are necessary for the
illustration of fundamental principles, to avoid,
as far as possible, in the remaining part of my
discourse, any tedious digressions into the thorny
paths of scholastic controversy. The critical
remarks, accordingly, which I am now to offer
on their philosophical writings, will, I trust.
100
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
enable me to execute tbe very slight sketches
which are to foliow5 in a manner at once mote
easy to myself) and more satislactoi \ to the bulk
of my readers.
But what I have chiefly in view in these pre¬
liminary observations, is to correct certain mis¬
apprehensions concerning the opinions of Locke
and of Leibnitz, which have misled (with very
few exceptions) all the later historians who
have treated of the literature of the eighteenth
century. I have felt a more particular solici¬
tude to vindicate the fame of Locke, not only
against the censures of his opponents, but against
the mistaken comments and eulogies of his ad¬
mirers, both in England and on the Continent.
Appeals to his authority are so frequent in the
reasonings of all who have since canvassed the
same subjects, that, without a precise idea of
his distinguishing tenets, it is impossible to form
a just estimate, either of the merits or demerits
of his successors. In order to assist my readers
in this previous study, I shall endeavour, as far
as I can, to make Locke his own commentator ;
earnestly entreating them, before they proceed
to the sequel of this dissertation, to collate care¬
fully those scattered extracts from his works,
which, in the following section, they will find
brought into contact with each other, with a
view to their mutual illustration. My own con¬
viction, I confess, is, that the Essay on Human
Understanding has been much more generally
applauded than read ; and if I could only flatter
myself with the hope of drawing the atten¬
tion of the public from the glosses of commen¬
tators to the author’s text, I should think that
I had made a considerable step towards the
correction of some radical and prevailing
errors, which the supposed sanction of his
name has hitherto sheltered from a free exami¬
nation.
PROGRESS OF METAPHYSICS DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
SECTION I.
Historical and Critical Review of the Philosophical Works of Locke and Leibnitz.
LOCKE.
Before entering on the subject of this sec¬
tion, it is proper to premise, that, although my
design is to treat separately of Metaphysics,
Ethics, and Politics, it will be impossible to
keep these sciences wholly unmixed in the course
of my reflections. They all run into each other
by insensible gradations; and they have all been
happily united in the comprehensive speculations
of some of the most distinguished writers of the
eighteenth century. The connection between
Metaphysics and Ethics is more peculiarly close ;
the theory of Morals having furnished, ever
since the time of Cudworth, several of the most
abstruse questions which have been agitated
concerning the general principles, both intel¬
lectual and active, of the human frame. The
inseparable affinity, however, between the dif¬
ferent branches of the Philosophy of the Mind,
does not afford any argument against the arrange¬
ment which I have adopted. It only shows,
that it cannot, in every instance, be rigorously
adhered to. It shall be my aim to deviate from
it as seldom, and as slightly, as the miscellaneous
nature of my materials will permit.
John Locke, from the publication of whose
Essay on Human Understanding a new era is to
be dated in the History of Philosophy, was born
at Wrington in Somersetshire, in 1632. Of
DISSERTATION FIRST.
101
his father nothing remarkable is recorded, but
that he was a captain in the Parliament’s army
daring the civil wars; a circumstance which, it
may be presumed from the son’s political opi¬
nions, would not be regarded by him as a stain
on the memory of his parent.
In the earlier part of Mr Locke’s life, he pro¬
secuted for some years, with great ardour, the
study of medicine; an art, however, which he
never actually exercised as a profession. Ac¬
cording to his friend Le Clerc, the delicacy of
his constitution rendered this impossible. But,
that his proficiency in the study was not in¬
considerable, we have good evidence in the de¬
dication prefixed to Dr Sydenham’s Observations
m the History and Cure of Acute Diseases f where
he boasts of the approbation bestowed on his
Method by Mr John Locke, who (to borrow
Sydenham’s own words) “ examined it to the
bottom; and who, if we consider his genius and
penetrating and exact judgment, has scarce any
superior, and few equals, now living.” The
merit of this Method, therefore, which still
continues to be regarded as a model by the most
competent judges, may be presumed to have be¬
longed in part to Mr Locke,*—a circumstance
which deserves to be noticed, as an additional
confirmation of what Bacon has so sagaciously
taught, concerning the dependence of all the
sciences relating to the phenomena, either of
Matter or of Mind, on principles and rules de¬
rived from the resources of a higher philosophy.
On the other hand, no science could have been
chosen, more happily calculated than Medicine,
to prepare such a mind as that of Locke for the
prosecution of those speculations which have
immortalised his name; the complicated, and
fugitive, and often equivocal phenomena of dis¬
ease, requiring in the observer a far greater
portion of discriminating sagacity, than those
of Physics, strictly so called; resembling, in
this respect, much more nearly, the phenomena
about which Metaphysics, Ethics, and Politics,
are conversant.
I have said, that the study of Medicine forms
one of the best preparations for the study of
Mind, to such an understanding as Locke’s. To
an understanding less comprehensive, and less
cultivated by a liberal education, the effect of
this study is likely to be similar to what we
may trace in the works of Hartley, Darwin, and
Cabanis ; to all of whom we may more or less
apply the sarcasm of Cicero on Aristoxenus, the
Musician, who attempted to explain the nature
of the soul by comparing it to a Harmony ; Hie
AB ARTIFICIO SUO NON RECESSIT.5 In Locke’s
Essay, not a single passage occurs, savouring of
the Anatomical Theatre, or of the Chemical
Laboratory.
In 1666, Mr Locke, then in his thirty-fifth
year, formed an intimate acquaintance with
Lord Ashley, afterwards Earl of Shaftesbury;
from which period a complete change took place,
both in the direction of his studies, and in his
habits of life. His attention appears to have been
then turned, for the first time, to political subjects;
and his place of residence transferred from the
university to the metropolis. From London (a
scene which gave him access to a society very
diffoient from what he had previously lived in)1
he occasionally passed over to the Continent,
where he had an opportunity of profiting by the
conversation of some of the most distinguished
persons of his age. In the course of his fo¬
reign excursions, he visited France, Germany,
and Holland; but the last of these countries
seems to have been his favourite place of resi¬
dence ; the blessings which the people there en¬
joyed, under a government peculiarly favourable
to civil and religious liberty, amply compensat-
1 Published in the year 1676. .
2 It is remarked of Sydenham, by the late Dr John Gregory, u That though full of hypothetical reasoning, it had not the
usual effect of making him less attentive to observation ; and that his hypotheses seem to have sat so loosely about lilirb
that either they did not influence his practice at all, or he could easily abandon them, whenever they would not bend to
his experience.”
This is precisely the idea of Locke concerning the true use of hypotheses. “ Hypotheses, if they are well made, are at
least great helps to the memory, and often direct us to new discoveries.”—Locke’s Works, Yol. III. p. 81. See also some
remarks on the same subject in one of his letters to Mr Molyneux. (The edition of Locke to which I uniformly refer, is
that printed at London in 1812, in Ten Volumes 8vo.)
3 Tusc. Quaest. Lib. 1.
4 Villiers Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Halifax, are particularly mentioned among those who were delighted with
his conversation.
102
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ing, in his view, for what their uninviting ter¬
ritory wanted in point of scenery and of climate.
In this respect, the coincidence between the taste
of Locke and that of Descartes throws a pleasing
light on the characters of both.
The plan of the Essay an Human Understanding
is said to have been formed as early as 1670;
bat the various employments and avocations of
the Author prevented him from finishing it till
1687, when he fortunately availed himself of the
leisure which his exile in Holland afforded him,
to complete his long meditated design. He re¬
turned to England soon after the Revolution,
and published the first edition of his work in
1690 ; the busy and diversified scenes through
which he had passed during its progress, having
probably contributed, not less than the acade¬
mical retirement in which he had spent his
youth, to enhance its peculiar and characte-
ristical merits.
Of the circumstances which gave occasion to
this great and memorable undertaking, the fol¬
lowing interesting account is given in the Pre¬
fatory Epistle to the Reader. <c Five or six
friends, meeting at my chamber, and discoursing
on a subject very remote from this, found them¬
selves quickly at a stand, by the difficulties
that rose on every side. After we had a while
puzzled ourselves, without coming any nearer a
resolution of those doubts which perplexed us,
it came into my thoughts that we took a wrong
course, and that, before we set ourselves upon
inquiries of that nature, it was necessary to ex¬
amine our own abilities, and see what objects
our understandings were, or were not, fitted to
deal with. This I proposed to the company,
who all readily assented, and thereupon it was
agreed, that this should be our first inquiry.
Some hasty and undigested thoughts on a sub¬
ject I had never before considered, which I set
down against our next meeting, gave the first
entrance into this discourse, which having been
thus begun by chance, was continued by en¬
treaty ; written by incoherent parcels, and, after
long intervals of neglect, resumed again as my
humour or occasions permitted; and at last in
retirement, where an attendance on my health
gave me leisure, it was brought into that order
thou now seest it.”
Mr Locke afterwards informs us, that “ when
he first put pen to paper, he thought all he
should have to say on this matter would have
been contained in one sheet, but that the far¬
ther he went the larger prospect he had;—new
discoveries still leading him on, till his book
grew insensibly to the bulk it now appears in.”
On comparing the Essay on Human Under¬
standing with the foregoing account of its origin
and progress, it is curious to observe, that it is
the fourth and last book alone which bears di¬
rectly on the author’s principal object. In this
book, it is further remarkable, that there are
few, if any references to the preceding parts of
the Essay; insomuch that it might have heen
published separately, without being less intel¬
ligible than it is. Hence, it seems not unreason¬
able to conjecture, that it was the frst part
of the work in the order of composition, and
that it contains those leading and fundamental
thoughts which offered themselves to the au¬
thor’s mind, when he first began to reflect on
the friendly conversation which gave rise to his
philosophical researches. The inquiries in the
first and second books, which are of a much
more abstract, as well as scholastic nature, than
the sequel of the work, probably opened gradu¬
ally on the author’s mind in proportion as he
studied his subject with a closer and more con¬
tinued attention. They relate chiefly to the
origin and to the technical classification of our
ideas, frequently branching out into collateral,
and sometimes into digressive discussions, with¬
out much regard to method or connection. The
third book (by far the most important of the
whole), where the nature, the use, and the abuse
of language are so clearly and happily illustrated,
seems, from Locke’s own account, to have been
a sort of after-thought; and the two excellent
chapters on the Association of Ideas and on En¬
thusiasm (the former of which has contributed,
as much as any thing else in Locke’s writings,
to the subsequeut progress of Metaphysical Phi¬
losophy, were printed, for the first time, in the
fourth edition of the Essay.
I would not be understood, by these remarks,
to undervalue the two first books. All that I
have said amounts to this, that the subjects which
they treat of are seldom susceptible of any prae-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
103
tical application to the conduct of the under¬
standing ; and that the author has adopted a new
phraseology of his own, where, in some in¬
stances, he might have much more clearly con-
veyed his meaning without any departure from
the ordinary forms of speech. But although
these considerations render the two first hooks
inferior in point of general utility to the two
last, they do not materially detract from their
merit, as a precious accession to the theory of
the Human Mind. On the contrary, I do not
hesitate to consider them as the richest con¬
tribution of well-observed and well-described
facts, which was ever bequeathed to this branch
of science by a single individual, and as the
indisputable, though not always acknowledged,
source of some of the most refined conclusions,
with respect to the intellectual phenomena, which
have been since brought to light by succeeding
inquirers.
After the details given by Locke himself, of
the circumstances in which his Essay was be¬
gun and completed; more especially, after what
he has stated of the cc discontinued way of writ¬
ing,” imposed on him by the avocations of a
busy and unsettled life, it cannot be thought
surprising, that so very little of method should
appear in the disposition of his materials; or that
the opinions which, on different occasions, he
has pronounced on the same subject, should not
always seem perfectly steady and consistent.
In these last cases, however, I am inclined to
think that the inconsistencies, if duly reflected
on, would be found rather apparent than real.
It is but seldom that a winter possessed of the
powerful and upright mind of Locke, can rea¬
sonably he suspected of stating propositions in
direct contradiction to each other. The pre¬
sumption is, that, in each of these propositions,
there is a mixture of truth, and that the error
lies chiefly in the unqualified manner in which
the truth is stated; proper allowances not being
made, during the fervour of composition, for
the partial survey taken of the objects from a
particular point of view. Perhaps it would not
be going too far to assert, that most of the seem¬
ing contradictions which occur in authors ani¬
mated with a sincere love of truth, might he
fairly accounted for by the different aspects
which the same object presented to them upon
different occasions. In reading such authors,
accordingly, when we meet with discordant ex¬
pressions, instead of indulging ourselves in the
captiousness of verbal criticism, it would better
become us carefully and candidly to collate the
questionable passages; and to study so to re¬
concile them by judicious modifications and cor¬
rections, as to render the oversights and mis¬
takes of our illustrious guides subservient to the
precision and soundness of our own conclusions.
In the case of Locke, it must be owned, that this
is not always an easy task, as the limitations of
some of his most exceptionable propositions are
to be collected, not from the context, but from
different and widely separated parts of his
Essay.1
In a work thus composed by snatches (to bor¬
row a phrase of the author’s), it was not to be
expected, that he should be able accurately to
draw the line between his own ideas, and the
hints for which he was indebted to others. To
those who are well acquainted with his specula¬
tions, it must appear evident, that he had studied
diligently the metaphysical writings both of
Hobbes and of Gassendi; and that he was no
stranger to the Essays of Montaigne, to the phi¬
losophical works of Bacon, or to Malebranche’s
Inquiry after Truth.* That he was familiarly
conversant with the Cartesian system may be
presumed from what we are told by his bio-
1 That Locke himself was sensible that some of his expressions required explanation, and was anxious that his opi¬
nions should be judged of rather from the general tone and spirit of his work, than from detached and isolated proposi¬
tions, may be inferred from a passage in one of his notes, where he replies to the animadversions of one of his antagonists
(the Reverend Mr Lowde), who had accused him of calling in question the immutability ol moi al distinctions. u
(says Locke) the good man does well, and as becomes his calling, to be watchful in such points, and to take the alarm, even
at expressions which, standing alone by themselves, might sound ill, and be suspected.”—(Locke s Works, Vol. li. p. . •
Note.) " . . . .
3 Mr Addison has remarked, that Malebranche had the start of Locke, by several years, in his notions on the subject o
Duration—(Spectator, No. 94.) Some other coincidences, not less remarkable, might be easily pointed out in the opinions
of the English and of the French philosopher.
104
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
grapher, that it was this which first inspired him
with a disgust at the jargon of the schools, and
led him into that train of thinking which he after¬
wards prosecuted so successfully. I do not,
however, recollect that he has anywhere in his
Essay mentioned the name of any one of these
authors.1 It is probable, that, when he sat
down to write, he found the result of his youth¬
ful reading so completely identified with the
fruits of his subsequent reflections, that it was
impossible for him to attempt a separation of
the one from the other ; and that he was thus
occasionally led to mistake the treasures of me¬
mory for those of invention. That this was
really the case, may he farther presumed from
the peculiar and original cast of his phraseo-
logy, which, though in general careless and un¬
polished, has always the merit of that charac-
teristical unity and raciness of style, which de¬
monstrate, that, while he was writing, he con¬
ceived himself to be drawing only from his own
resources.
With respect to his style, it may be further ob-
feerved, that it resembles that of a well educated
and well informed man of the world, rather than
of a recluse student who had made an object of
the art of composition. It everywhere abounds
with colloquial expressions, which he had pro¬
bably caught by the ear from those whom he
considered as models of good conversation; and
hence, though it now seems somewhat antiqua¬
ted, and not altogether suited to the dignity of
the subject, it may be presumed to have contri¬
buted its share towards his great object of turn¬
ing the thoughts of his contemporaries to logi¬
cal and metaphysical inquiries. The author of
the Characteristics, who will not be accused of
an undue partiality for Locke, acknowledges, in
strong terms, the favourable reception which his
book had met with among the higher classes.
“ I am not sorry, however,” says Shaftesbury,
to one of his correspondents, “ that I lent you
Locke’s Essay, a book that may as well qualify
men for business and the world, as for the sciences
and a university. No one has done more to¬
wards the recalling of philosophy from barbarity,
into use and practice of the world, and into the
company of the better and politer sort, who
might well be ashamed of it in its other dress.
No one has opened a better and clearer way to
reasoning.”*
In a passage of one of Warburton’s letters to
Hurd, which I had occasion to quote in the first
part of this Dissertation, it is stated as a fact,
that, “ when Locke first published his Essay, he
had neither followers nor admirers, and hardly a
single approver.” I cannot help suspecting very
strongly the correctness of this assertion, not
only from the flattering terms in which the Essay
is mentioned by Shaftesbury in the foregoing
quotation, and from the frequent allusions to its
doctrines by Addison and other popular writers
of the same period, but from the unexampled
sale of the book, during the fourteen years
which elapsed between its publication and Locke’s
death. Four editions were printed in the space
of ten years, and three others must have ap¬
peared in the space of the next four; a refer¬
ence being made to the sixth edition by the au¬
thor himself, in the epistle to the reader, prefix¬
ed to all the subsequent impressions. A copy
of the thirteenth edition, printed as early as
1748, is now lying before me. So rapid and so
extensive a circulation of a work, on a subject
so little within the reach of common readers, is
the best proof of the established popularity of
the author’s name, and of the respect generally
entertained for his talents and his opinions.
That the Essay 071 Human Understanding should
have excited some alarm in the University oi
Oxford, was no more than the author had rea¬
son to expect from his boldness as a philosophi¬
cal reformer; from his avowed zeal in the cause
of liberty, both civil and religious; from the
suspected orthodoxy of his Theological Creed;
and (it is but candid to add) from the apparent
1 The name of Hobbes occurs in Mr Locke’s Reply to the Bishop of Worcester. See the Notes on his Essay, B. iy- c. 3.
It is curious that he classes Hobbes and Spinoza together, as writers of the same stamp ; and that he disclaims any intimate
acquaintance with the works of either. “ I am not so well read in Hobbes and Spinoza as to be able to say what were their
opinions in this matter, but possibly there be those who will think your Lordship’s authority of more use than those just¬
ly decried names,” &c. &c.
* See Shaftesbury’s First Letter to a Student at the University.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
105
coincidence of his ethical doctrines with those of
Hobbes.1 It is more difficult to account for the
long continuance, in that illustrious seat of learn¬
ing, of the prejudice against the logic of Locke
(by far the most valuable part of his work), and
of that partiality for the logic of Aristotle, of
which Locke has so fully exposed the futility.
In the University of Cambridge, on the other
hand, the Essay on Human Understanding was,
for many years, regarded with a reverence ap¬
proaching to idolatry; and to the authority of
some distinguished persons connected with that
learned body may he traced (as will afterwards
appear) the origin of the greater part of the ex¬
travagancies which, towards the close of the last
century, were grafted on Locke’s errors, by the
disciples of Hartley, of Law, of Priestley, of
Tooke, and of Darwin.2
To a person who now reads with attention
and candour the work in question, it is much more
easy to enter into the prejudices which at first
opposed themselves to its complete success, than
to conceive how it should so soon have acquired
its just celebrity. Something, I suspect, must
be ascribed to the political importance which Mr
Locke had previously acquired as the champion
of religious toleration; as the great apostle of
the Revolution ; and as the intrepid opposer of
a tyranny which had been recently overthrown.
In Scotland, where the liberal constitution of
the universities has been always peculiarly fa¬
vourable to the diffusion of a free and eclectic
spirit of inquiry, the philosophy of Locke seems
very early to have struck its roots, deeply and
permanently, into a kindly and congenial soil.
Nor were the errors of this great man implicit¬
ly adopted from a blind reverence for his name.
The works of Descartes still continued to be
studied and admired; and the combined systems
of the English and the French metaphysicians
served, in many respects, to correct what was
faulty, and to supply what was deficient, in
each. As to the ethical principles of Locke,
where they appear to lean towards Hobbism,
a powerful antidote against them was already
prepared in the Treatise He Jure Belli et Pads,
which was then universally and deservedly re¬
garded in this country as the best introduction
that had yet appeared to the study of moral
science. If Scotland, at this period, produced
no eminent authors in these branches of learn¬
ing, it was not from want of erudition or of ta¬
lents ; nor yet from the narrowness of mind in¬
cident to the inhabitants of remote and insula¬
ted regions; hut from the almost insuperable
difficulty of writing in a dialect, which imposed
upon an author the double task of at once ac¬
quiring a new language, and of unlearning his
own.3
The success of Locke’s Ess&y, in some parts
of the Continent, was equally remarkable;
owing, no doubt, in the first instance, to the
very accurate translation of it into the French
language by Coste, and to the eagerness with
which every thing proceeding from the author of
the Letters on Toleration^ may be presumed to
1 “ It was proposed at a meeting of the heads of houses of the University of Oxford, to censure and discourage the
reading of Locke’s Essay; and, after various debates among themselves, it was concluded, that each head of a house
should endeavour to prevent its being read in his college, without coming to any public censure.”—(See Des Maizeaux s
note on a letter from Locke to Collins—Locke’s Works, Yol. X. p. 284.) _
4 I have taken notice, with due praise, in the former part of this discourse, of the metaphysical speculations ot John
Smith, Henry More, and Ralph Cudworth ; all of them members and ornaments of the University of Cambridge about
the middle of the seventeeth century. They were deeply conversant in the I'latonic Philosophy, and applied it with great
success in combating the Materialists and Necessitarians of their times. They carried, indeed, some of their I latomc no¬
tions to an excess bordering on mysticism, and may, perhaps, have contributed to give a bias to some of their academical
successors towards the opposite extreme. A very pleasing and interesting account of the characters of these amiable and
ingenious men, and of the spirit of their philosophy, is given by Burnet in the History of his Oren Times.
To the credit of Smith and of More it may be added, that they were among the first m England to perceive and to
acknowledge the merits of the Cartesian Metaphysics.
s Note S. . , ,
4 The principle of religious toleration was at that time very imperfectly admitted, even by those philosophers \v io
were the most zealously attached to the cause of civil liberty. The great Scottish lawyer and statesman, Loid Stair,
himself no mean philosopher, and, like Locke, a warm partizan of the Revolution, seems evidently to have regretted t e
impunity which Spinoza had experienced in Holland, and Hobbes in England. “ Execrabihs ille Atheus Spinosa adeo
impudens est, ut affirmet omnia esse absolute necessaria, et nihil quod est, fuit, aut. erit, aliter fien potuisse, m quo omnes
superiores Atheos excessit, aperte negans omnem Deitatem, nihilque prseter potentias naturae agnoscens. . .
“ Vaninus Deitatem non aperte negavit, sed causam illius prodidit, in tractatu quem edidit, argumenta pro Dei existen-
tia tanquam futilia et vana rejiciens, adferendo contrarias omnes rationes per modum objectionum, easque prosequendo u
DISS. I. PART II. °
106
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
have been read by the multitude of learned and
enlightened refugees, whom the revocation of
the edict of Nantz forced to seek an asylum in
Protestant countries. In Holland, where Locke
was personally known to the most distinguish-
ed characters, both literary and political, his
work was read and praised by a discerning few,
with all the partiality of friendship p but it does
not seem to have made its way into the schools
till a period considerably later. The doctrines
of Descartes, at first so vehemently opposed in
that country, were now so completely triumph¬
ant, both among philosophers and divines,2 that
it was difficult for a new reformer to obtain a
hearing. The case was very nearly similar in
Germany, where Leibnitz (who always speaks
coldly of Locke’s Essay)5 was then looked up
to as the great oracle in every branch of learn¬
ing and of science. If I am not mistaken, it
was in Switzerland, where (as Gibbon observes)
“ the intermixture of sects had rendered the
clergy acute and learned on controversial topics,”
that Locke’s real merits were first appreciated
on the Continent with a discriminating impartia¬
lity. In Crousaz’s Treatise of Logic (a book
which, if not distinguished by originality of ge¬
nius, is at least strongly marked with the sound
and unprejudiced judgment of the author), we
everywhere trace the influence of Locke’s doc¬
trines ; and, at the same time, the effects of the
Cartesian Metaphysics, in limiting those hasty
expressions of Locke, which have been so often
misinterpreted by his followers.4 Nor do Crou¬
saz’s academical labours appear to have been less
indissolubiles videantur; postea tamen larvam exuit, et atheismum clare professus est, et justjssime in inclyta urbe
Thoeosa damnatus est et cremates.
“ Horrendus Hobbesius tertius erat atheismi promotor, qui omnia principia moralia et politica subvertit, eorumque
loco naturalem vim et humana pacta, ut prima principia moralitatis, societatis, et politici regiminis substituit: nec ta¬
men Spinosa aut Hobbies, qeamvis in regionibes reformatis vixerint et mortei sint, nedem exempla
FACTI SENT IN ATHEOREM TERROREM, ET NE VEL EELAM PAJNAM SENSERIMT.” (Physiol. NOVO, ExperimentalU. Lllgd.
Batav. 1666, pp. 16, 17-) „
1 Among those whose society Locke chiefly cultivated while in Holland, was the celebrated Le Clerc, the author ot the
BMiotheque Universelle, and the Bibliotheque Choisie, besides many other learned and ingenious publications. He appears to
have been warmly attached to Locke, and embraced the fundamental doctrines of his £ssay without any slavish deference
for his authority. Though he fixed his residence at Amsterdam, where he taught Philosophy and the Belles Lettres, he
was a native of Geneva, where he also received his academical education. He is, therefore, to be numbered with Locke s
Swiss disciples. I shall have occasion to speak of him more at length afterwards, when I come to mention his controversy
with Bayle. At present, I shall only observe, that his Eloge on Locke was published in the Bibliotheque Choisie (Annee
1705,) Tom. VI.; and that some important remarks on the Essay on Human Understanding, particularly on the chapter on
Power, are to be found in the 12th Vol. of the same work (Annee 1707-)
2 Q,u am vis huic sectse (Cartesiame) initio acriter se opponerent Theologi et Philosophi Belgac, in Academiis tamen
eorum hodie (1727,) vix alia, quam Cartesiana principia inculcantur—(Heineccii Elem. Hist. Philosoph.) In Gravesande’s
Introductio ad Philosophiam, published in 1736, the name of Locke is not once mentioned. It is probable that this last au¬
thor was partly influenced by his admiration for Leibnitz, whom he servilely followed even in his physical errors.
3 In Lockio sunt quaedam particularia non male exposita, sed in summa longe aberravit a janua, nec naturam mentis
veritatisque intellexit—(Leibnitz. Op. Tom. V. p. 355. ed. Dutens.)
M. Locke avoit de la subtilite et de Paddresse, et quelque espece de metaphysique superficielle qu’il savoit relever.—
(Ibid. pp. 11, 12.)
Heineccius, a native of Saxony, in a Sketch of the History of Philosophy, printed in 1728, omits altogether the name of
Locke in his enumeration of the logical and metaphysical writers of modern Europe. In a passage of his logic, where
the same author treats of clear and obscure, adequate and inadequate ideas (a subject on which little or nothing of any value
had been advanced before Locke), he observes, in a note, u Debemus hanc Doctrinam Leibnitio, eamque deinde sequutus
est illust. Wolfius.” • . . . . ...
4 Of the Essay on Human Understanding Crousaz speaks in the following terms : “ Clarissimi, et merito celebratissimi
Lockii de Intellectu Humano eximium opus, et auctore suo dignissimum, logicis utilissimis semper annumerabitur.”—
(Prcefat.) If Pope had ever looked into this Treatise, he could not have committed so gross a mistake, as to introduce
the author into the Dunciad, among Locke’s Aristotelian opponents; a distinction for which Crousaz was probably indebted
to his acute strictures on those passages in the Essay on Man, which seem favourable to fatalism.
Prompt at the call, around the goddess roll
Broad hats, and hoods, and caps, a sable shoal;
Thick and more thick the black blockade extends,
A hundred head of Aristotle’s friends.
Nor wert thou, Isis ! wanting to the day
(Though Christ-church long kept prudishly away).
Each staunch Polemic, stubborn as a rock,
Each fierce Logician, still expelling Locke,
Came whip and spur, and dash’d through thin and thick
On German Crousaz, and Dutch Burgersdyck.
Warburton, with his usual scurrility towards all Pope’s adversaries as well as his own, has called Crousaz a blundering
Swiss ; but a very different estimate of his merits has been formed by Gibbon, who seems to have studied his works much
more carefully than the Bight Reverend Commentator on the Dunciad.
“ M. de Crousaz, the adversary of Bayle and Pope, is not distinguished by lively fancy or profound reflection ; and
DISSERTATION FIRST.
107
useful than his writings; if a judgment on this
point may be formed from the sound philosophi¬
cal principles which he diffused among a nume¬
rous race of pupils. One of these (M. Alla-
mand), the friend and correspondent of Gibbon,
deserves particularly to be noticed here, on ac¬
count of two letters published in the posthumous
works of that historian, containing a criticism
on Locke’s argument against innate ideas, so very
able and judicious, that it may still be read with
advantage by many logicians of no small note
in the learned world. Had these letters hap¬
pened to have sooner attracted my attention, I
should not have delayed so long to do this tardy
justice to their merits.1
I am not able to speak with confidence of the
period at which Locke’s Essay began to attract
public notice in France. Voltaire, in a letter to
Horace Walpole, asserts, that he was the first
person who made the name of Locke known to
his countrymen;® but I suspect that this asser¬
tion must be received with Considerable quali¬
fications. The striking coincidence between
some of Locke’s most celebrated doctrines and
those of Gassendi, can scarcely be supposed to
have been altogether overlooked by the followers
and admirers of the latter; considering the im¬
mediate and very general circulation given on the
Continent to the Essay on Human Understanding,
by Coste’s French version. The Gassendists, too,
it must be remembered, formed, even before
the death of their master, a party formidable in
talents as well as in numbers; including, among
other distinguished names, those of Moliere,5
even in his own country, at the end of a few years, his name and writings are almost obliterated. But his Philosophy had
been formed in the school of Locke, his Divinity in that of Limborch and Le Clerc; in a long and laborious life, several
generations of pupils were taught to think, and even to write; his lessons rescued the Academy of Lausanne from Cal-
vinistic prejudices ; and he had the rare merit of diffusing a more liberal spirit among the people of the Pays de Vaud."—
(Gibbon’s Memoirs.')
In a subsequent passage Gibbon says, “ the logic of Crousaz had prepared me to engage with Ins master Locke, and his
antagonist Bayle ; of whom the former may be used as a bridle, and the latter applied as a spur to the curiosity of a young
philosopher.”—(lUd.) . ... . . ^ ,
The following details, independently of their reference to Crousaz, are so interesting m themselves, and aliord so strong
a testimony to the utilitv of logical studies, when rationally conducted, that I am tempted to transcribe them. _
“ December 1755. In finishing this year, I must remark how favourable it was to my studies. In the space of eight
months, I learned the principles of drawing; made myself completely master of the I rench and Latin languages, with
which I was very superficially acquainted before, and wrote and translated a great deal in both; read Ciceio s Epistles ad
Familiares, his Brutus, all his Orations, his Dialogues de Amicitia et deSenectute; Terence twice, and Pliny’s Epistles.
In French, Giannoni’s History of Naples, 1’Abbe Banier’s Mythology, and M. Boehat’s Memoires sur la Suisse, and wrote
a very ample relation of my tour. I likewise began to study Greek, and went through the grammar. 1 began to make
very large collections of what I read. But what I esteem most of all,—from the perusal and meditation of De Crousaz s
logic, I not only understood the principles of that science, but formed my mind to a habit of thinking and reasoning, I had
no idea of before.” , . , ,
After all, I very readily grant, that Crousaz’s logic is chiefly to be regarded as the work of a sagacious and enlightened
compiler; but even this (due allowance being made for the state of philosophy when it appeared) is no mean praise.
“ Good sense (as Gibbon has very truly observed) is a quality of mind hardly less rare than genius. XT _
1 For some remarks of M. Allamand, which approach very near to Reid’s Objections to the Ideal Iheory, feee JN ote I -
Of this extraordinary man Gibbon gives the following account in his Journal; “ C’est un mimstre dans le 1 ays de Vaud,
et un des plus beaux g^nies que je connoisse. II a voulu embrasser tons les genres; mais c est la. 1 miosop ne qu i a e
plus approfondi. Sur toutes les questions il s’est fait des systemes, ou du moins des argumens toujours ongmaux et tou-
jours ingenieux. Ses idees sont fines et lumineuses, son expression heureuse et facile. On lui reproche ayec raison
trop de rafinement et de subtilite dans Pesprit; trop de fierte, trop d’ambition, et trop de violence dans le caractere. Get
homme, qui auroit pu eclairer ou troubler une nation, vit et mourra dans 1’obscurite.” . ,
It is of the same person that Gibbon sneeringly says, in the words of Yossius, “ Est sacnficulus m pago, et rusticos
2 “ Je peux vous assurer qu’avant moi personne en France ne connoissoit la.poesie Angloise, a peine avoit on entendu
parler de Locke. J’ai dte persecute' pendant trente ans par une nuee de fanatiques pour avoir dit que l^octe est i Gier-
culede la Me'taphysique, qui a pose les homes de P Esprit Humain.”—(Ferney, 1701.) . ,.
In the following passage of the Age of Louis XIV. the same celebrated writer is so lavish and undistinguishmg in his
praise of Locke, as almost to justify a doubt whether he had ever read the book which he extols so highly. Locke seul
a developpd I'entcndement humain, dans un livre oil il n’y a que des verites; et ce qui rend 1 ouvrage parfait, toutes ces
verites sont cIritos ^
3 Moliere was in his youth so strongly attached to the Epicurean theories, that he had projected a translation of Lu¬
cretius into French. Fie is even said to have made some progress in executing his design, when a trifling accident de¬
termined him, in a moment of ill humour, to throw his manuscript into the fire. The plan on which he was to proceed in
this bold undertaking does honour to his good sense and good taste, and seems to me the only one on which a successful
version of Lucretius can ever be executed. The didactic passages of the poem were to be translated into prose, and the
descriptive passages into verse. Both parts would have gained greatly by this compromise.; for, where Lucretius wishes
to unfold the philosophy of his master, he is not less admirable for the perspicuity and precision of his expressions, than
he is on other occasions, where his object is to detain and delight the imaginations of . his readers, for the charms of his
figurative diction, and for the bold relief of his images. In instances of the former kind, no modern language can give
108
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Chapelle,1 and Bernier;* all of them eminent¬
ly calculated to give the tone, on disputed ques¬
tions of Metaphysics, to that numerous class of
Parisians of both sexes, with whom the practical
lessons, vulgarly imputed to Epicurus, were not
likely to operate to the prejudice of his specu¬
lative principles. Of the three persons just men¬
tioned, the two last died only a few years before
Locke’s Essay was published; and may he pre¬
sumed to have left behind them many younger
pupils* of the same school. One thing is certain,
that, long before the middle of the last century,
the Essay on Human Understanding was not only
read by the learned, but had made its way into
the circles of fashion at Paris.3 In what man¬
ner this is to be accounted for, it is not easy
to say; but the fact will not be disputed by
those who are at all acquainted with the his¬
tory of French literature.
In consequence of this rapid and extensive
circulation of the work in question, and the
strong impression that it everywhere produced,
by the new and striking contrast which it ex¬
hibited to the doctrines of the schools, a very re¬
markable change soon manifested itself in the
prevailing habits of thinking on philosophical
subjects. Not that it is to be supposed that the
opinions of men, on particular articles of their
former creed, underwent a sudden alteration. I
speak only of the general effect of Locke’s dis¬
cussions, in preparing the thinking part of his
readers, to a degree till then unknown, for the
unshackled use of their own reason. This has
always appeared to me the most characteristical
feature of Locke’s Essay; and that to which it is
chiefly indebted for its immense influence on the
philosophy of the eighteenth century. Few books
can be named, from which it is possible to ex¬
tract more exceptionable passages ; but, such is
the liberal tone of the author; such the man¬
liness with which he constantly appeals to reason,
as the paramount authority which, even in re¬
ligious controversy, every candid disputant is
bound to acknowledge; and such the sincerity
and simplicity with which, on all occasions, he
appears to inquire after truth, that the general
effect of the whole work may be regarded as the
best of all antidotes against the errors involved in
some of its particular conclusions.4
To attempt any general review of the doctrines
even the semblance of poetry to the theories of Epicurus ; while, at the same time, in the vain attempt to conquer this dif¬
ficulty, the rigorous precision and simplicity of the original are inevitably lost.
The influence of Gassendi’s instructions may be traced in several of Moliere’s comedies; particularly in the Femmes
Savantes, and in a little piece Le Mariage Force, where an Aristotelian and a Cartesian doctor are both held up to the same
sort of ridicule, which, in some other of his performances, he has so lavishly bestowed on the medical professors of his time.
1 The joint author, with Bachaumont, of the Voyage cn Provence, which is still regarded as the most perfect model of
that light, easy, and graceful badinage which seems to belong exclusively to French poetry. Gassendi, who was an in¬
timate friend of his father, was so charmed with his vivacity while a boy, that he condescended to be his instructor in phi¬
losophy ; admitting, at the same time, to his lessons, two other illustrious pupils, Moliere and Bernier. The life of Cha¬
pelle, according to all his biographers, exhibited a complete contrast to the simple and ascetic manners of his master.; but,
if the following account is to be credited, he missed no opportunity of propagating, as widely as he could, the speculative
principles in which he had been educated. “ II dtoit fort Eloquent dans 1’ivresse. II restoit ordinairement le dernier k
table, et se mettoit a expliquer aux valets la philosophie d’Epicure.”—(Biographie Universelle, article Chapelle, Paris,
1813.) He died in 1686.
2 The well known author of one of our most interesting and instructive books of travels. After his return from the
East, where he resided twelve years at the court of the Great Mogul, he published at Lyons, an excellent Abridgment of
the Philosophy of Gassendi, in 8 vols. 12mo; a second edition of which, corrected by himself, afterwards appeared, in seven
volumes. To this second edition (which I have never met with) is annexed a Supplement, entitled Doutes de M. Bernier
sur quelques uns des principaux Chapitres de son Abrege de la Philosophie de Gassendi. It is to this work, I presume, that
Leibnitz alludes in the following passage of a letter to John Bernouilli; and, from the manner in which he speaks of its
contents, it would seem to be an object of some curiosity. “ Frustra quaesivi apud typographos librum cui titulus;
Doutes de M. Bernier sur la Philosophie, in Gallia ante annos aliquot editum et mihi visum, sed nunc non repertum. Yel-
lem autem ideo iterum legere, quia file Gassendistorum fuit Princeps; sed paullo ante mortem, libello hoc edito ingenue
professus est, in quibus nec Gassendus nec Cartesius satisfaciant.”—(Leibnitii et Jo. Bernouilli Commerc. Epist. 2 vol.
4to. Laussanae et Genevae, 1745.)
Bernier died in 1688.
3 A decisive proof of this is afforded by the allusions to Locke’s doctrines in the dramatic pieces then in possession of
the French stage. See Note U.
4 The maxim which he constantly inculcates is, that “ Reason must be our last judge and guide in everything.”—
(Locke’s Works, Vql. III. p. 145.) To the same purpose, he elsewhere observes, that “ he who makes use of the light
and faculties God has given him, and seeks sincerely to discover truth by those helps and abilities he has, may have this
satisfaction in doing his duty as a rational creature ; that, though he should miss truth, he will not miss the reward of it.
I or he governs his assent right, and places it as he should, who in any case or matter whatsoever, believes or disbelieves,
according as reason directs him. He that does otherwise, transgresses against his own light, and misuses those faculties
which were given him to no other end, but to search and follow the clearer evidence and greater probability.” {Ibid. p. 125.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
109
sanctioned, or supposed to be sanctioned, by the
name of Locke, would be obviously incompatible
with the design of this Discourse; but, among
these doctrines, there are two, of fundamental
importance, which have misled so many of his
successors, that a few remarks on each form a
necessary preparation for some historical details
which will afterwards occur. The first of these
doctrines relates to the origin of our ideas;
the second to the power of moral perception,
AND THE IMMUTABILITY OF MORAL DISTINC¬
TIONS. On both questions, the real opinion of
Locke has, if I am not widely mistaken, been
very grossly misapprehended or misrepresented,
by a large portion of his professed followers, as
well as of his avowed antagonists.
1. The objections to which Locke’s doctrine
concerning the origin of our ideas, or, in other
words, concerning the sources of our knowledge,
are, in my judgment, liable, I have stated so
fully in a former work,1 that I shall not touch
on them here. It is quite sufficient, on the pre¬
sent occasion, to remark, how very unjustly this
doctrine (imperfect, on the most favourable con¬
struction, as it undoubtedly is) has been con¬
founded with those of Gassendi, of Condillac, of
Diderot, and of Horne Tooke. The substance
of all that is common in the conclusions of these
last winters, cannot be better expressed than in
the words of their Master, Gassendi. “ All our
knowledge (he observes in a letter to Descartes)
appears plainly to derive its origin from the
senses; and although you deny the maxim,
4 Quicquid est in intellectu preeesse debere in
sensu,’ yet this maxim appears, nevertheless, to
be true; since our knowledge is all ultimately
obtained by an influx or incursion from things
external; which knowledge afterwards under¬
goes various modifications by means of analogy,
composition, division, amplification, extenuation,
and other similar processes, which it is un¬
necessary to enumerate.”*
This doctrine of Gassendi’s coincides exactly
with that ascribed to Locke by Diderot and by
Horne Tooke ; and it differs only verbally from
the more concise statement of Condillac, that
“ our ideas are nothing more than transformed
sensations.” “ Every idea,” says the first of
these writers, £t must necessarily, when brought
to its state of ultimate decomposition, resolve it¬
self into a sensible representation or picture; and
since every thing in our understanding has been
introduced there by the channel of sensation,
whatever proceeds out of the understanding is
either chimerical, or must be able, in returning
by the same road, to re-attach itself to its sensible
archetype. Hence an important rule in phi¬
losophy,—that every expression which cannot
find an external and a sensible object, to which
1 Philosophical Essays.
2 “ Deinde omnis nostra notitia videtur plane ducere originem a sensibus ; et quamvis tu neges quicquid est in intellectu
praeesse debere in sensu, videtur id esse nihilominus verum, cum nisi sola incursione xu.ra orfurrucriv, ut loquuntur, fiat; per-
ficiatur tamen analogia, compositione, divisione, ampliatione, extenuatione, aliisque similibus modis, quos commemorare nihil
est necesse.”—( Objectiones in Meditationem Secundam.)
This doctrine of Gassendi’s is thus very clearly stated and illustrated, by the judicious authors of the Port Royal Lofc :
“ Un philosophe qui est estime dans le monde commence sa logique par cette proposition : Omnis idea orsum ducit a sensibus.
Toute idee tire son origine des sens. II avoue neanmoins que toutes nos idees n’ont pas ete dans nos sens telles qu’elles sont
dans notre esprit: mais il pretend qu’elles ont au moins etd formees de celles qui oqt passe par nos sens, ou par composition,
comme lorsque des images separees de 1’or et d’une montagne, on s’en fait une montagne d’or; ou par ampliation et diminu¬
tion, comme lorsque de i’image d’un homme d’une grandeur ordinaire on s’en forme un geant ou un pigmee ; ou ^par ac¬
commodation et proportion, comme lorsque de 1’idee d’une maison qu’on a vue, on s’en forme I’image d’une maison qu on n’a
pas vue. Et aixsi, dit il, nous concevons Dieu qui ne peut tomber sous les sens, sous e’image d un vene¬
rable vieillard.” “ Selon cette pensee, quoique toutes nos hides ne fussent semblables a quelque corps particulier que
nous ayons vu, ou qui ait frappe nos sens, elles seroient neanmoins toutes corporelles, et ne vous representeroient rien qui
ne fut entrd dans nos sens, au moins par parties. Et ainsi nous ne concevons rien que par des images, semblables. a celles
qui se forment dansles cerveau quand nous voyons, ou nous nous imaginons des corps.”—(L'Art de Penser, 1. Partie. c. 1.)
The reference made, in the foregoing quotation, to Gassendi’s illustration drawn from the idea oj God, affords me an
opportunity, of which I gladly avail myself, to contrast it with Locke’s opinion on the same subject. “ How many amongst
us will be found, upon inquiry, to fancy God, in the shape of a man, sitting in heaven, and to have many other absurd and
unfit conceptions of him ? Christians, as well as Turks, have had whole sects owning, or contending earnestly tor it, that
the Deity was corporeal and of human shape : And although we find few amongst us, who profess themselves Anthropomor-
phitcs (though some I have met with that own it), yet, I believe, he that will make it his business, may find amongst the
ignorant and uninstructed Christians, many of that opinion.” *—(Vol. I. p. 67-)
* In the judgment of a very learned and pious divine, the bias towards Anthropomorphism, which Mr Locke has here so
severely reprehended, is not confined to “ ignorant and uninstructed Christians.” “ It Anthropomorphism (says Dr Maclaine)
was banished from theology, orthodoxy would be deprived of some of its most precious phrases, and our confessions of taith
110
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
it can thus establish its affinity, is destitute of
signification.”—(Oeuvres de Diderot, Tom. YI.)
Such is the exposition given by Diderot, of
what is regarded in France as Locke’s great
and capital discovery ; and precisely to the same
purpose we are told by Condorcet, that 44 Locke
was the first who proved that all our ideas are
compounded of sensations.”—(Esquisse IHstorique,
&c.)
If this were to he admitted as a fair account
of Locke’s opinion, it would follow, that he has
not advanced a single step beyond Gassendi and
Hobbes; both of whom have repeatedly expressed
themselves in nearly the same words with Di¬
derot and Condorcet. But although it must be
granted, in favour of their interpretation of his
language, that various detached passages may
be quoted from his work, which seem, on a
superficial view, to justify their comments, yet
of what weight, it may be asked, are these pas¬
sages, when compared with the stress laid by
the author on Reflection^ as an original source of
our ideas, altogether different from Sensation ?
44 The other fountain,” says Locke, 44 from which
experience furnisheth the understanding with
ideas, is the perception of the operations of our
own minds within us, as it is employed about
the ideas it has got; which operations, when the
soul comes to reflect on and consider, do furnish
the understanding with another set of ideas,
which could not be had from things without;
and such are Perception, Thinking, Doubting, Be-
“ Let the ideas of being and matter be strongly joined either by education or much thought, whilst these are still com-
bined in the mind, what notions, what reasonings will there be about separate spirits ? Let custom, from the very childhood,
have joined figure and shape to the idea of God, and what absurdities will that mind be liable to about the Deity ?”—(Voli
II. p. 144.)
The authors of the Port Royal Logic have expressed themselves on this point to the very same purpose with Locke; and
have enlarged upon it still more fully and forcibly. (See the sequel of the passage above quoted.) Some of their remarks on
the subject, which are more particularly directed against Gassendi, have led Brucker to rank them among the advocates for
innate ideas (Brucker, Historia dc Ideis, p. 271), although these remarks coincide exactly in substance with the foregoing quo¬
tation from Locke. Like many other modern metaphysicians, this learned and laborious, but not very acute historian,
could imagine no intermediate opinion between the theory of innate ideas, as taught by the Cartesians, and the Epicurean
account of our knowledge, as revived by Gassendi and Hobbes ; and accordingly thought himself entitled to conclude, that
whoever rejected the one must necessarily have adopted the other. The doctrines of Locke and of his predecessor Arnauld
will be found, on examination, essentially different from both. *
Persons little acquainted with the metaphysical speculations of the two last centuries are apt to imagine, that when “ all
knowledge is said to have its origin in the senses,” nothing more is to be understood than this, that it is by the impressions
of external objects on our organs of perception, that the dormant powers of the understanding are at first awakened. The
foregoing quotation from Gassendi, together with those which I am about to produce from Diderot and Condorcet, may, I
trust, be useful in correcting this very common mistake; all of these quotations explicitly asserting, that the external senses
furnish not only the occasions by which our intellectual powers are excited and developed, but all the materials about which
our thoughts are conversant; or, in other words, that it is impossible for us to think of anything, which is not either a
sensible image, or the result of sensible images combined together, and transmuted into new forms by a sort of logical che¬
mistry. That the powers of the understanding would for ever continue dormant, were it not for the action of things ex¬
ternal on the bodily frame, is a proposition now universally admitted by philosophers. Even Mr Harris and Lord Mon-
boddo, the two most zealous, as well as most learned of Mr Locke’s adversaries in England, have, in the most explicit man¬
ner, expressed their assent to the common doctrine. “ The first class of ideas (says Monboddo) is produced from ideas fur¬
nished by the senses ; the second arises from the operations of the mind upon these materials: for I do not deny, that in
this our present state of existence, all our ideas, and all our knowledge, are ultimately to be derived from sense and matter.”
(Vol. I. p. 44. 2d Ed.) Mr Harris, while he holds the same language, points out, with greater precision, the essential dif¬
ference between his philosophy and that of the Hobbists. “ Though sensible objects may be the destined medium to awa¬
ken the dormant energies of man’s understanding, yet are those energies themselves no more contained in sense, than the
explosion of a cannon in the spark which gave it fire.”—(Hermes.) ' On this subject see Elements of the Philosophy of the
Human Mind, Yol. I. chap. i. sect. 4.
To this doctrine I have little doubt that Descartes himself would have assented, although the contrary opinion has been
generally supposed by his adversaries to be virtually involved in his Theory of Innate Ideas. My reasons for thinking so,
the reader will find stated in Note X.
and systems of doctrine would be reduced within much narrower bounds.” (Note on Mosheim’s Church History, Yol. IV.
p. 550.)
On this point I do not presume to offer any opinion ; but one thing I consider as indisputable, that it is by means of
Anthropomorphism, and other idolatrous pictures of the invisible world, that superstition lays hold of the infant mind.
Such pictures operate not upon Reason* but upon the Imagination; producing that temporary belief with which I conceive
all the illusions of imagination to be accompanied.
In point of fact, the bias of which Locke speaks extends in a greater or less degree to all men of strong imaginations,
whose education has not been very carefully superintended in early infancy.
I have applied to Anthropomorphism the epithet idolatrous, as it seems to be essentially the same thing to bow down and
worship a graven image of the Supreme Being, and to'worship a supposed likeness of Him conceived by the Imagination.
In Bernier’s Abridgment of Gassendi's Philosophy (Tom. III. p. 13 et seq.) an attempt is made to reconcile with the Epi¬
curean account of the origin of our knowledge, that more pure and exalted idea of God to which the mind is gradually led
by the exercise of its reasoning powers : But I am very doubtful, if Gassendi would have subscribed, in this instance, to
the comments of his ingenious disciple.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
Ill
lieving, Reasoning, Knowing, Willing, and all the
different actings of our own minds, which, we
being conscious of, and observing in ourselves,
do from these receive into our understandings
ideas as distinct as we do from bodies affecting
our senses. This source of ideas every man has
wholly in himself: And though it he not sense,
as having nothing to do with external objects, yet it
is very like it, and might properly enough be
called internal sense. But as I call the other
Sensation, so I call this Reflection ; the ideas
it affords being such only as the mind gets by
rejlecting on its own operations within itself.”1
—(Locke’s Works, Vol. I. p. 78.)
“ The understanding seems to me not to have
the least glimmering of any ideas which it doth
not receive from one of these two. External
objects furnish the mind with the ideas of sensible
qualities ; and the mind furnishes the understand¬
ing with ideas of its own operations 1’—[Ibid.
p. 79.)
In another part of the same chapter, Locke
expresses himself thus : “ Men come to he fur¬
nished with fewer or more simple ideas from
without, according as the objects they converse
with afford greater or less variety; and from the
operations of their minds within, according as
they more or less reflect on them. For,
though he that contemplates the operations of
his mind, cannot but have plain and clear ideas
of them; yet, unless he turn his thoughts that
way, and consider them attentively, he will no
more have clear and distinct ideas of all the ope¬
rations of his mind, and all that may be ob¬
served therein, than he will have all the parti¬
cular ideas of any landscape, or of the parts and
motions of a clock, who will not turn his eyes
to it, and with attention heed all the parts of it.
The picture, or clock, may he so placed, that
they may come in his way every day; hut yet
he will have but a confused idea of all the parts
they are made up of, till he applies himself with
attention to consider them in each particular.
“ And hence we see the reason why it is
pretty late before most children get ideas of the
operations of their own minds; and some have
not any very clear or perfect ideas of the great¬
est part of them all their lives Children,
when they first come into it, are surrounded
with a world of new things, which, by a con¬
stant solicitation of their senses, draw the mind
constantly to them,—forward to take notice of
new, and apt to he delighted with the variety of
changing objects. Thus, the first years are
usually employed and directed in looking abroad.
Men’s business in them is to acquaint themselves
with what is to he found without; and so grow¬
ing up in a constant attention to outward sensa¬
tions, seldom make any considerable reflection on
what passes within them, till they come to he
of riper years; and some scarce ever at all.”—
{Ibid. pp. 80. 81.)
I beg leave to request more particularly the
attention of my readers to the following pa¬
ragraphs :
“ If it be demanded, when a man begins to have
any ideas ? I think the true answer is, when
he first has any sensation I conceive that
ideas in the understanding are coeval with sen¬
sation ; which is such an impression or motion,
made in some part of the body, as produces some
perception in the understanding. It is about
these impressions made on our senses by out¬
ward objects, that the mind seems first to em¬
ploy itself in such operations as we call Percep¬
tion, Remembering, Consideration, Reasoning, &c.
“ In time, the mind comes to reflect on its
own operations, and about the ideas got by sen¬
sation, and thereby stores itself with a new set
of ideas, which I call ideas of reflection. 1 hese
impressions that are made on our senses by ob¬
jects extrinsical to the mind; and its own opera¬
tions, proceeding from powers intrinsical and pro¬
per to itself (which, when reflected on by itself,
become also objects of its contemplation), are,
as I have said, the original of all knowledge”2—
{Ibid. pp. 91. 92.)
A few other scattered sentences, collected
2 The idea attached by Locke in the above passages to the word Reflection is clear and precise. But in the course of his
subsequent speculations, he does not always rigidly adhere to it, frequently employing it in that more extensive and popu-
lar sense in which it denotes the attentive and deliberate consideration of any object of thought, whether relating to the tx-
t
112
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
from different parts of Locke’s Essay, may throw
additional light on the point in question.
ii I know that people, whose thoughts are im¬
mersed in matter, and have so subjected their
minds to their senses, that they seldom reflect on
anything beyond them, are apt to say, they can¬
not comprehend a thinking thing, which perhaps
is true: But I affirm, when they consider it
well, they can no more comprehend an extended
thing.
“ If any one say, he knows not what ’tis
thinks in him; he means he knows not what
the substance is of that thinking thing: No more,
say I, knows he what the substance is of that
solid thing. Farther, if he says, he knows not
how he thinks ; I answer, Neither knows he how
he is extended; how the solid parts of body are
united, or cohere together to make extension.”
—(Yol. II. p. 22.)
<c I think we have as many and as clear ideas
belonging to mind, as we have belonging to body,
the substance of each being equally unknown to
us ; and the idea of thinking in mind as clear as
of extension in body; and the communication of
motion by thought which we attribute to mind,
is as evident as that by impulse, which we
ascribe to body. Constant experience makes us
sensible of both of these, though our narrow un¬
derstanding can comprehend neither.1
“ To conclude ; Sensation convinces us, that
there are solid extended substances; and Re¬
flection, that there are thinking ones: Expe¬
rience assures us of the existence of such beings;
and that the one hath a power to move body by
impulse, the other by thought; this we cannot
doubt of. But beyond these ideas, as received
from their proper sources, our faculties will not
reach. If we would inquire farther into their
nature, causes, and manner, we perceive not the
nature of Extension clearer than we do of Think¬
ing. If we would explain them any farther, one
is as easy as the other; and there is no more
difficulty to conceive how a substance we know
not should by thought set body into motion, than
how a substance we know not should, by im¬
pulse, set body into motion.”—(Ibid. pp. 26. 27.)
The passage in Locke which, on a superficial
view, appears the most favourable to the misin¬
terpretation put on his account of the Sources of
our Knowledge, by so many of his professed
followers, is, in my opinion, the following:
“ It may also lead us a little towards the ori¬
ginal of all our notions and knowledge, if we re¬
mark, how great a dependence our words have
on common sensible ideas; and how those which
are made use of to stand for actions and notions
quite removed from sense, have their rise from
thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are
transferred to more abstruse significations, and
made to stand for ideas that come not under the
cognizance of our senses; v. g. to imagine, appre¬
hend, comprehend, adhere, conceive, instil, disgust,
ternal or to the internal world. It is in this sense he uses it when he refers to Reflection our ideas of Cause and Effect,
of Identity and Diversity, and of all other relations. “ All of these (he observes) terminate in, and are concerned about, those
simple ideas, either of Sensation or Reflection, which I think to be the whole materials of all our knowledge.”—(Book II.
c. xxv. sect. 9.) From this explanation it would appear that Locke conceived it sufficient to justify his account of the ori¬
gin of our knowledge, if it could he shown that all our ideas terminate in, and are concerned about, ideas derived either from
Sensation or Reflection, according to which comment it will not be a difficult task to obviate every objection to which his
fundamental principle concerning the two sources of our ideas may appear to be liable.
In this lax interpretation of a principle so completely interwoven with the whole of his philosophy, there, is undoubtedly
a departure from logical accuracy ; and the same remark may be extended to the vague and indefinite use which he occasion¬
ally makes of the word Reflection; a word which expresses the peculiar and characteristical doctrine, by which his system is
distinguished from that of the Gassendists and Hobbists. All this, however, serves only to prove still more clearly, how
widely remote his real opinion on this subject was from that commonly ascribed to him by the French and. German com¬
mentators. For my own part, I do not think, notwithstanding some casual expressions which may seem to favour the con¬
trary supposition, that Locke would have hesitated for a moment to admit, with Cudworth and Price, that the Understand,
ing is itself a source of new ideas. That it is by Reflection (which, according to his own definition, means merely the exercise
of the Understanding on the internal phenomena) that we get our ideas of memory, imagination, reasoning, and of all other
intellectual powers, Mr Locke has again and again told us ; and from this principle it is so obvious an inference, that all the
simple ideas which are necessarily implied in our intellectual operations, are ultimately to be referred to the same source,
that we cannot reasonably suppose a philosopher of Locke’s sagacity to admit the former proposition, and to withhold his
assent to the latter.
1 In transcribing this paragraph, I have taken the liberty to substitute the word Mind instead of Spirit. The two words
were plainly considered by Locke, on the present occasion, as quite synonymous ; and the latter (which seems to involve a
theory concerning the nature of the thinking principle) is now almost universally rejected by English metaphysicians
from their Philosophical Vocabulary.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
113
disturbance, tranquillity, &c. are all words taken
from the operations of sensible things, and ap¬
plied to certain modes of thinking. Spirit, in
its primary signification, is breath ; angel, a mes -
senger : and I doubt not, but if we could trace them
to their sources, we shoiddfind, in all languages,
the names which stand for things that fall not under
our senses, to have had their first rise from sensible
ideas. By which we may give some kind of
guess what kind of notions they were, and
whence derived, which filled their minds, who
were the first beginners of languages; and how
nature, even in the naming of things, unawares
suggested to men the originals and principles of
all their knowledge.”
So far the words of Locke coincide very near¬
ly, if not exactly, with the doctrines of Hobbes
and of Gassendi; and I have not a doubt, that
a mistaken interpretation of the clause which I
have distinguished by italics, furnished the germ
of all the mighty discoveries contained in the
Eirsa IlrcsoEvra. If Mr Tooke, however, had studied
with due attention the import of what immediate¬
ly follows, he must have instantly perceived how
essentially different Locke’s real opinion on the
subject was from what he conceived it to be.—
“ Whilst to give names, that might make known
to others any operations they felt in themselves,
or any other ideas that came not under their
senses, they were fain to borrow words from
ordinary known ideas of sensation, by that means
to make others the more easily to conceive those
operations they experienced in themselves, which
made no outward sensible appearances; and
then, when they had got known and agreed
names, to signify those internal operations of
their own minds, they were sufficiently furnish¬
ed to make known by words all their other ideas;
since they could consist of nothing but either of
outward sensible perceptions, or of the inward
operations of their minds about them.”—(Vol.
II. pp. 147, 148.)
From the sentences last quoted it is manifest,
that when Locke remarked the material etymo¬
logy of all our language about mind, he had not
the most distant intention to draw from it any
inference which might tend to identify the
sensible images which this language presents to
the fancy, with the metaphysical notions which
DISS. I. PART II.
it figuratively expresses. Through the whole of
his Essay, he uniformly represents sensation and
refection as radically distinct sources of know¬
ledge ; and, of consequence, he must have con¬
ceived it to be not less unphilosophical to attempt
an explanation of the phenomena of mind by
the analogy of matter, than to think of explain¬
ing the phenomena of matter by the analogy of
mind. To this fundamental principle concern¬
ing the origin of our ideas, he has added, in the
passage now before us, That, as our knowledge
of mind is posterior in the order of time to that
of matter (the first years of our existence being
necessarily occupied about objects of sense), it
is not surprising, that <c when men wished to
give names that might make known to others any
operations they felt in themselves, or any other
ideas that came not under their senses, they
should have been fain to borrow words from
ordinary known ideas of sensation, by that means
to make others the more easily to conceive those
operations which make no outward sensible ap¬
pearances.” According to this statement, the
purpose of these “borrowed” or metaphorical
words is not (as Mr Tooke concluded) to explain
the nature of the operations, but to direct the
attention of the hearer to that internal world,
the phenomena of which he can only learn to
comprehend by the exercise of his own power
of reflection. If Locke has nowhere affirmed
so explicitly as his predecessor Descartes, that
“ nothing conceivable by the power of imagina¬
tion can throw any light on the operations of
thought,” it may be presumed that he consider¬
ed this as unnecessary, after having dwelt so
much on reflection as the exclusive source of all
our ideas relating to mind; and on the peculiar
difficulties attending the exercise of this power,
in consequence of the effect of early associations
in confounding together our notions of mind and
of matter.
The misapprehensions so prevalent on the
Continent, with respect to Locke’s doctrine on
this most important of all metaphysical questions,
began during his own life time, and were coun¬
tenanced by the authority of no less a writer than
Leibnitz, who always represents Locke as a par-
tizan of the scholastic maxim, Nihil est in intel-
lectu quod non fuerit in sensu.—“ Nempe (says
114
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Leibnitz, in reply to this maxim) nihil est in in¬
tellect n quod non fuerit in sensu, nisi ipse intel-
lectus.”1 The remark is excellent, and does
honour to the acuteness of the critic; but it is
not easy to conceive on what grounds it should
have been urged as an objection to a writer, who
ThSThe^amemistekeTtill keeps its ground among many foreign writers of the highest dass, the following passage affords
a sufficient proof- “ Leibnitz a combattu avec une force de dialectique admirable le Systeme de Locke, qm attnbue toutes
°sensat|<?11^' etl^bnitz'y^jouta cette Restriction^1 *i ’cen'ett'rinteli&nce e/fc-meT^^De'ce'prindpe
d“S JrpSCphle’nl“. S“ie„ce sur le. esprits en Allemagne.-_(M^ ^ Stael rAUe.
Tobser^d InlheYivi Part of this Dissertation (page 67), that this sublime restriction on which so much stress has been
laid by the partizans of the German school, is little more than a transktumof the foUowingwordsjf Aristotle
X- ~ ^ /W£0 ra. vonrk- Wi ntv yap rvv anv v\ns, to awro itn to voowv ko.i to voou^tvoy (De Amma, IaID. 111. Cap. V.j
M to Locke the same injustice which he received from Leibnitz was very early done to him in his own country. In a
tract printed in 1697, by a mathematician of some note, the author of the Essay on Human Understanding is represented as
holding the sale opinion with Gassendi concerning the origin of our ideas. “ Idee nomine sensu utor; earum origmem an
a sensibus solum, ut Gassendo et Lockio nostrati, cseterisque plunmis visum est, an aliunde, hujus loci non est inquirere.
(Dc Spatio Reali, sen Ente Infinite Conamen Mathematico-Metaphysicum. Auctore Josepho RaphsOn, Reg. Soc. Socio. This
tract is annexed to the second edition of a work entitled Analysis jEguationum Universalis. Lond. 1702.)
In order to enable my readers more easily to form a judgment on the argument in the text, I must beg leave once more
to remind them of the distinction already pointed out between the Gassendists and the Cartesians; the former asserting,
that as all our ideas are derived from the external senses, the intellectual phenomena can admit of no other explanation
than’ what is furnished by analogies drawn from the material world; the latter rejecting these analogies altogether, as de¬
lusive and treacherous lights in the study of mind; and contending, that the exercise ot the power of reflection istheoiUy
medium through which any knowledge of its operations is to be obtained. lo the one or the other of theoe two classes, Al
the metaphysicians of the last century may be referred; and even at the present day, the fundamental question whiA
formed the chief ground of controversy between Gassendi and Descartes (I mean the question concerning the pi opei logical
method of studying the mind) still continues the hinge on which the most important disputes relating to the internal vvo
W According to Sdbtinction, Locke, notwithstanding some occasional slips of his pen, belongs indisputably to the class
of Cartesians; as well as the very small number of his followers who have entered thoroughly into the spirit of his ph -
sophy. To the class of Gassendists, on the other hand, belong all those French metaphysicians, who professing to tread
in Locke’s footsteps, have derived all their knowledge of the Essay on Human Understanding from the works of Condiil c,
together with most of the commentators on Locke who have proceeded from the school of Bishop Law. To these may be
added (among the writers of later times) Priestley, Darwin, Beddoes, and, above all, Horne Tooke with Ins numerous
The doctrine of Hobbes on this cardinal question coincided entirely with that of Gassendi, and, accordingly, it is not
unusual in the present times, among Hobbes’s disciples, to ascribe to him the whole merit of that account of the origin ot
our knowledge, which, from a strange misconception, has been supposed to have been claimed by Locke as his own dis¬
covery. But where, it may be asked, has Hobbes said anything about the origin of those ideas wmch Locke refers to the
power of reflection It and may not the numerous observations which Locke has made on this power as a source of ideas peculiar
to itself, be regarded as an indirect refutation of that theory which would resolve all the objects of our knowledge into
sensations, as their ultimate elements ? This was not merely a step beyond Hobbes; but the correction of an error which lies
at the very root of Hobbes’s system ;—an error under which (it may be added) the greater part ol Hobbes s eulogists
have the misfortune still to labour. . , „ . . , ... a_j
It is with much regret I add, that a very large proportion of the English writers, who call _ themselves Lockists^ ana
who, I have no doubt, believe themselves to be so in reality, are at bottom (at least in their metaphysical opinions)
Gassendists or Hobbists. In what respect do the following observations differ from the Epicurean theory concerning the
origin of our knowledge, as expounded by Gassendi? “ The ideas conveyed by sight, and by our other senses, having
entered the mind, intermingle, unite, separate, throw themselves into various combinations and postures, and thereoy
generate new ideas of reflection, strictly so called; such as those of comparing, dividing, distingishing,—ol abstraction,
relation, with many others; all which remain with us as stock for our further use on future occasions.” I do not recollect
any passage, either in Helvetius or Diderot, which contains a more explicit and decided avowal of that Epicurean system
of Metaphysics, which it was the great aim both of Descartes and of Locke to overthrow. _ „
In the following conjectures concerning the nature of our ideas, the same author has far exceeded in extravagance any ot
the Metaphysicians of the French school. “ What those substances are, whereof our ideas are the modifications, whether parts
erf the mind as the members are of our body, or contained in it like wafers in a box, or enveloped by it like fish in water, whether of a spiri¬
tual, corporeal, or middle nature between both, I need not now ascertain. All I mean to lay down at present is this, that,
in every exercise of the understanding, that which discerns is numerically and substantially distinct from that which is (lis-
cemed; and that an act of the understanding is not so much our own proper act, as the act of something else operating
upon us.” . , . ..
I should scarcely have thought it worth while to take notice of these passages, had not the doctrines contained in
work from which they are taken, been sanctioned in the most unqualified terms by the high authority of Dr Raley. 1 ere
is one work (he observes) to which I owe so much, that it would be ungrateful not to confess the obligation: I mean ie
writings of the late Abraham Tucker, Esq. part of which were published by iiimself, and the remainder since his dea ,
under the title of the Light of Nature Pursued, by Edward Search, Esq.” “ / have found, in this writer, more original thinking
and observation upon the several subjects that he has taken in hand, than in any other, not to say than in all others put together. His talen
also for illustration is unrivalled. But his thoughts are diffused through a long, various, and irregular work. I shall accoun
DISSERTATION FIRST.
115
has insisted so explicitly and so frequently on re¬
flection as the source of a class of ideas essential¬
ly different from those which are derived from
sensation. To myself it appears, thai the words
of Leibnitz only convey, in a more concise and
epigrammatic form, the substance of Locke’s
doctrine. Is any thing implied in them which
Locke has not more fully and clearly stated in
the following sentence ? “ External objects
furnish the mind with the ideas of sensible
qualities; and the mind furnishes the under¬
standing with ideae of its own operations.”
(Locke’s Works, Vol. I. p. 79.)
The extraordinary zeal displayed by Locke,
at the very outset of his work, against the hy¬
pothesis of innate ideas, goes far to account for
the mistakes committed by his commentators, in
interpreting his account of the origin of our
knowledge. It ought, however, to be always
kept in view, in reading his argument on the
subject, that it is the Cartesian theory of innate
ideas which he is here combating; according to
which theory (as understood by Locke), an in¬
nate idea signifies something coeval in its existence
with the mind to which it belongs, and illuminat-
iug the understanding before the external senses
begin to operate. The very close affinity be¬
tween this theory, and some of the doctrines of
the Platonic school, prevented Leibnitz, it is
probable, from judging of Locke’s argument
against it, with his usual candour ; and disposed
him hastily to conclude, that the opposition of
Locke to Descartes proceeded from views essen¬
tially the same with those of Gassendi, and of
his other Epicurean antagonists. How very
widely he was mistaken in this conclusion, the
numerous passages which I have quoted in
Locke’s own words sufficiently demonstrate.
In what respects Locke’s account of the origin
of our ideas falls short of the truth, will appear,
when the metaphysical discussions of later times
come under our review. Enough has been al¬
ready said to show, how completely this account
has been misapprehended, not only by his oppo¬
nents, but by the most devoted ofhis admirers ;—
a misapprehension so very general, and at the
same time so obviously at variance with the
whole spirit of his Essay, as to prove to a de¬
monstration that, in point of numbers, the in¬
telligent readers of this celebrated work have
hitherto borne but a small proportion to its
purchasers and panegyrists. What an illustra¬
tion of the folly of trusting, in matters of lite¬
rary history, to the traditionary ]udgments copied
by one commentator or critic from another, when
recourse may so easily be had to the original
sources of information I1
II. Another misapprehension, not less pre¬
valent than the former, with respect to Locke’s
philosophical creed, relates to the power of mo¬
ral perception, and the immutability of moral
distinctions. The consideration of such ques-
1 In justice to Dr Hartley, I must here observe, that, although his account of the origin of our ideas is precisely the
same with that of Gassendi, Hobbes, and Condillac—one ofhis fundamental principles being, that the ideas of sensation are
the elements of which all the rest are compounded—(Hartley on Man, 4th Ed. p. 2. of the Introduction)—he has not availed
himself, like the other Gassendists of later times, of the name of Locke to recommend this theory to the favour of his
readers. On the contrary, he has very clearly and candidly pointed out the wide and essential distinction between the
t wo opinions. “ It may not be amiss here to take notice how far the theory of these papers has led me to differ, in respect
of logic, from Mr Locke’s excellent Essay on the Human Understanding, to which the world is so much indebted for re¬
moving prejudices and encumbrances, and advancing real and useful knowledge.
“ First, then, it appears to me, that all the most complex ideas arise from sensation, and that reflection is not a distinct
source, as Mr Locke makes it.”—(Hartley on Man, 4th Ed. p. 360 of the Introduction.)
This last proposition Hartley seems to have considered as an important and original improvement of his own on Locke’s
d no mean praise, if I have been sometimes able to dispose into method, to collect into heads and articles, or to exhibit in
more compact and tangible masses, what, in that excellent performance, is spread over too much surface.”—(Principles of
Moral and Political Philosophy, Preface, pp. 25, 26.)
Of an author whom Dr Paley has honoured with so very warm an eulogy, it would be equally absurd and presumptuous
to dispute the merits. Nor have I any wish to detract from the praise here bestowed on him as an original thinker and ob¬
server. I readily admit, also, his talent for illustration, although it sometimes leads him to soar into bombast, and more
frequently to sink into buffoonery. As an honest inquirer after moral and religious truth, he is entitled to the most un¬
qualified approbation. But, I must be permitted to add, that, as a metaphysician, he seems to me much more fanciful than
sohd; and, at the same time, to be so rambling, verbose, and excursive, as to be more likely to unsettle than to fix the
principles of his readers.
116
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.'
tions, it may at first sight he thought, belongs
rather to the history of Ethics than of Meta¬
physics ; hut it must he recollected, that, in in¬
troducing them here, I follow the example of
Locke himself, who has enlarged upon them at
considerable length, in his Argument against
the Theory of Innate Ideas, An Ethical disqui¬
sition of this sort formed, it must he owned, an
aukward introduction to a work on the Human
Understanding; hut the conclusion on which it
is meant to hear is purely of a Metaphysical
nature; and when combined with the premises
from which it is deduced, affords a good illus¬
tration of the impossibility, in tracing the pro¬
gress of these two sciences, of separating com¬
pletely the history of the one from that of the
other.
In what sense Locke’s reasonings against In¬
nate Ideas have been commonly understood, may
he collected from the following passage of an
author, who had certainly no wish to do injus¬
tice to Locke’s opinions.
logic ; whereas, in fact, it is only a relapse into the old Epicurean hypothesis, which it was one of the main objects of Locke’s
Essay to explode.
I would not have enlarged so fully on Locke’s account of the origin of our ideas, had not a mistaken view of his argument
on this head, served as a ground-work for the whole Metaphysical Philosophy of the French Encyclopedic. That all our
knowledge is derived from our external senses, is everywhere assumed by the conductors of that work as a demonstrated
principle ; and the credit of this demonstration is uniformly ascribed to Locke, who, we are told, was the first that fully un¬
folded and established a truth, of which his predecessors had only an imperfect glimpse. La Harpe, in his Lycee, has, on
this account, justly censured the metaphysical phraseology of the Encyclopedic, as tending to degrade the intellectual nature
of man ; while, with a strange inconsistency, he bestows the most unqualified praise on the writings of Condillac. Little
did he suspect, when he wrote the following sentences, how much the reasonings of his favourite logician had contributed to
pave the way for those conclusions which he reprobates with so much asperity in Diderot and D’Alembert.
“ La gloire de Condillac est d’avoir dte le premier disciple de Locke; mais si Condillac eut un maitre, il merita d’en ser-
vir a tous les autres ; il repandit meme une plus grande lumiere sur les decouvertes du philosophe Anglois; il les rendit
pour ainsi dire sensibles, et e’est grace a lui qu’elles sont devenues communes et familieres. En un mot, la saine Meta¬
physique ne date en France, que des ouvrages de Condillac, et a ce litre il doit etre comptd dans le petit nombre d’hommes
qui ont avance la science qu’ils ont cultivee.”—(Lycec, Tome XY. pp. 136. 137-
La Harpe proceeds in the same panegyrical strain through more than seventy pages, and concludes his eulogy of Con¬
dillac with these words : “ Le style de Condillac est clair et pur comme ses conceptions; e’est en general 1’esprit le plus
juste et le plus lumineux qui ait contribue, dans ce siecle, aux progres de la bonne philosophie.”—{Ibid. p. 214.)
La Harpe’s account of the power of Reflection will form an appropriate supplement to his comments on Condillac. “ L’im-
pression sentie des objets se nomme perception; Taction de Tame qui les considere, se nomme reflexion. Ce mot, il est vrai,
exprime un mouvement physique, celui de se replier sur soi-meme ou sur quelque chose ; mais toutes nos idees venant des sens,
nous sommes souvent obliges de nous servir de termes physiques pour exprimer les operations de Tame.”—{Ibid. p. 158.)
In another passage, he defines Reflection as follows : “ La faculte de reflexion, e’est-a-dire, le pouvoir qu’a notre ame, de
comparer, d’assembler, de combiner les perceptions.”—{Ibid. p. 183.) How widely do these definitions of reflection differ
from that given by Locke; and how exactly do they accord with the Philosophy of Gassendi, of Hobbes, and of Diderot.!
In a lately published sketch Of the State of French Literature during the Eighteenth Century (a wrork, to which the Author’s
taste and powers as a writer have attracted a degree of public attention something beyond what was due to his philosophi¬
cal depth and discernment), there are some shrewd, and, in my opinion, sound remarks, on the moral tendency of that me¬
taphysical system to which Condillac gave so much circulation and celebrity. I shall quote some of his strictures which
bear more particularly on the foregoing argument.
“ Autrefois, negligeant d’examiner tout ce mecanisme des sens, tous ces rapports directs du corps avec les objets, les phi-
losophes ne s’occupoient que de ce qui se passe au-dedans de Thomme. La science de Tame, telle a e'te la noble etude de
Descartes, de Pascal, de Malebranche, de Leibnitz. (Why omit in this list the name of Locke ?) Peut-etre se per-
doient-ils quelquefois dans les nuages des hautes re'gions oil ils avoient pris leur vol; peut-etre leurs travaux etoient-ils
sans application directe ; mais du raoins ils suivoient une direction elevee, leur doctrine etoit en rapport avec les pensees
qui nous agitent quand nous refle'chissons profondement sur nous-memes. Cette route conduisoit ne'cessairement au plus
nobles des sciences, a la religion, et a la morale. Elle supposoit dans ceux qui la cultivoient un genie eleve et de vastes
meditations.
“ On se lassa de les suivre ; on traita de vaines subtilites, on fletrit du litre de reveries scholastiques les travaux de ces
grandes esprits. On se jeta dans la science des sensations, esperant qu’elle seroit plus a la portee de 1’intelligence humaine.
On s’occupa de plus en plus des rapports mecaniques de Thomme avec les objets, et de Tinfluence de son organisation phy¬
sique. De cette sorte, la metaphysique alia toujours se rabaissant, au point que maintenant, pour quelques personnes, elle
se confond presque avec la physiologic. . . . Le dix-huitieme siecle a voulu faire de cette maniere d’envisager Thomme un de
ses principaux litres de gloire 
“ Condillac est le chef de eette e'cole. C’est dans ses ouvrages que cette metaphysique exerce toutes les seductions de la
methode, et de la lucidite ; d’autant plus claire, qu’elle est moins profonde. Peu d’ecrivains ont obtenu plus de succes. Il
reduisit a la portee du vulgaire la science de la pensee, en retranchant tout ce qu’elle avoit d’eleve. Chacun fut surpris et
glorieux de pouvoir philosopher si facilement; et Ton eut une grande reconnoissance pour celui a qui Ton devoit ce bienfait.
On ne s’apperqut pas qu’il avoit rabaisse la science, au lieu de rendre ses disciples capable d’y atteindre.”—{Tableau dc la
Litteraturc Franfoise pendant le dix-huitieme Siecle, pp. 87- 88. 89. 92.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
117
“The First Book (says Dr Beattie) of the
Essay on Human Understanding, which, with sub¬
mission, I think the worst, tends to establish
this dangerous doctrine, that the human mind,
previous to education and habit, is as suscep¬
tible of any one impression as of any other:—a
doctrine which, if true, would go near to prove,
that truth and virtue are no better than human
contrivances; or at least, that they have nothing
permanent in their nature, but may he as
changeable as the inclinations and capacities of
men.” Dr Beattie, however, candidly and judi¬
ciously adds, “ Surely this is not the doctrine
that Locke meant to establish; but his zeal
against innate ideas, and innate principles, put
him off his guard, and made him allow too little
to instinct, for fear of allowing too much.”
In this last remark, I perfectly agree with Dr
Beattie; although I am well aware, that a con¬
siderable number of Locke’s English disciples
have not only chosen to interpret the first book
of his Essay in that very sense in which it ap¬
peared to Dr Beattie to he of so mischievous a
tendency, hut have avowed Locke’s doctrine,
when thus interpreted, as their own ethical creed.
In this number, I am sorry to say, the respec¬
table name of Paley must he included.1
It is fortunate for Locke’s reputation, that, in
other parts of his Essay, he has disavowed, in
the most unequivocal terms, those dangerous
conclusions which, it must he owned, the gene¬
ral strain of his first book has too much the ap¬
pearance of favouring. “ He that hath the idea
(he observes on one occasion) of an intelligent,
but frail and weak being, made by and depend¬
ing on another, who is omnipotent, perfectly
wise, and good, will as certainly know, that man
is to honour, fear, and obey God, as that the sun
shines when he sees it; nor can he he surer, in
a clear morning, that the sun is risen, if he will
but open his eyes, and turn them that way.
But yet these truths being never so certain, never
so clear, he may he ignorant of either, or all of
them, who will never take the pains to employ
his faculties as he should to inform himself about
them.” To the same purpose, he has elsewhere
said, that “ there is a Law of Nature, as intel¬
ligible to a rational creature and studier of that
law, as the positive laws of commonwealths.”
Nay, he has himself, in the most explicit terms,
anticipated and disclaimed those dangerous con¬
sequences which, it has been so often supposed,
it was the chief scope of this introductory chap¬
ter to establish. “ I would not he mistaken,
as if, because I deny an innate law, I thought
there were none hut positive laws. There is a
great deal of difference between an innate law
and a law of nature; between something im¬
printed on our minds in their very original, and
something that we, being ignorant of, may at¬
tain to the knowledge of, by the use and due
application of our natural faculties. And I
think they equally forsake the truth, who, run¬
ning into the contrary extremes, either affirm
an innate law, or deny that there is a law know-
ahle by the light of nature, without the help of
a positive revelation.” (Vol. I. p. 44.) Nor
was Locke unaware of the influence on men’s
lives of their speculative tenets concerning these
metaphysical and ethical questions. On this
point, which can alone render such discussions
interesting to human happiness, he has express¬
ed himself thus : “ Let that principle of some
of the philosophers, that all is matter, and that
there is nothing else, he received for certain and
indubitable, and it will be easy to be seen, by
the writings of some that have revived it again
in our days, what consequences it will lead in¬
to....Nothing can be so dangerous as principles
thus taken up without due questioning or exami¬
nation ; especially if they be such as influence
men’s lives, and give a bias to all their actions.
He that with Archelaus shall lay it down as a
principle, that right and wrong, honest and dis¬
honest, are defined only by laws, and not by
nature, will have other measures of moral recti¬
tude and pravity, than those who take it for
granted, that we are under obligations antece¬
dent to all human constitutions.”—(Yol. HI. p.
75.) Is not the whole of this passage evidently
1 See Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, Book I. Chap. 5, where the author discusses the question concerning
a moral seme.
118
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
pointed at the Epicurean maxims of Hobbes and
of Gassendi?1
Lord Shaftesbury was one of the first who
sounded the alarm against what he conceived to
be the drift of that philosophy which denies the
existence of innate principles. Various strictures
on this subject occur in the Characteristics ; par¬
ticularly in the treatise entitled Advice tb an Au¬
thor ; but the most direct of all his attacks upon
Locke is to be found in his 8th Letter, address¬
ed to a Student at the University. In this let¬
ter he observes, that “ all those called free wri¬
ters now-a-days have espoused those principles
which Mr Hobbes set a foot in this last age.”—
“ Mr Locke (he continues), as much as I ho¬
nour him on account of other writings (on Go¬
vernment, Policy, Xrade, Coin, Education, To¬
leration, &c.) and as well as I knew him, and
can answer for his sincerity as a most zealous
Christian and believer, did however go in the
self-same tract; and is followed by the Tindals,
and all the other free authors of our times !
“ ’Twas Mr Locke that struck the home blow:
for Mr Hobbes’s character, and base slavish
principles of government, took off the poison of
his philosophy. ’Twas Mr Locke that struck
at all fundamentals, threw all order and virtue
out of the world, and made the very ideas of
these (which are the same with those of God)
unnatural, and without foundation in our minds.
Innate is a word he poorly plays upon: the right
word, though less used, is connatural. For what
has birth or progress of the foetus out of the
womb to do in this case ?—the question is not
about the time the ideas entered, or the moment
that one body came out of the other; but whe-
ther the constitution of man be such, that, being
adult and grown up,3 at such a time, sooner or
later (no matter when,) the idea and sense of
order, administration, and a God, will not infal¬
libly, inevitably, necessarily spring up in him.”
In this last remark Shaftesbury appears to me
to place the question about innate ideas upon the
right and only philosophical footing; and to af¬
ford a key to all the confusion running through
Locke’s argument against their existence. The
sequel of the above quotation is not less just and
valuable—but I must not indulge myself in any
farther extracts. It is sufficient to mention the
perfect coincidence between the opinion of
Shaftesbury, as here stated by himself, and that
formerly quoted in the words of Locke; and, of
consequence, the injustice of concluding, from
some unguarded expressions of the latter, that
there was, at bottom, any essential difference
between their real sentiments.5
Under the title of Locke’s Metaphysical (or,
to speak with more strict precision, his Logical)
writings, may also be classed his tracts on Edu¬
cation, and on the Conduct of the Understand-
1 To the above quotations from Locke, the following deserves to be added: “ Whilst the parties of men cram their
tenets down all men’s throats, whom they can get into their power, without permitting them to examine their truth or
falsehood, and will not let truth have fair play in the world, nor men the liberty to search after it; what improvements
can be expected of this kind ? What greater light can be hoped for in the moral sciences ? The subject part of mankind
in most places might, instead thereof, with Egyptian bondage expect Egyptian darkness, were not the candle of tlie Lord set
up by himself in men's minds, which it is impossible for the breath or power of man wholly to extinguish."—VoL II. pp. 343,
344.
2 Lord Shaftesbury should have said, “ grown up to the possession and exercise of his reasoning powers.”
3 I must, at the same time, again repeat, that the facts and reasonings contained in the introduction to Locke’s Essay
go very far to account for the severity of Shaftesbury’s censures on this part of his work. Sir Isaac Newton himself, an in¬
timate friend of Locke’s, appears, from a letter of his which I have read in his own handwriting, to have felt precisely in
the same manner with the author of the Characteristics. Such, at least, were his first impressions; although he afterwards
requested, with a humility and candour worthy of himself, the forgiveness of Locke, for this injustice done to his character.
“ I beg your pardon (says he) for representing that you struck at the root of morality in a principle you laid down in your
book of ideas, and designed to pursue in another book ; and that I took you for a Hobbist.” In the' same letter Newton
alludes to certain unfounded suspicions which he had been led to entertain of the propriety of Locke’s conduct in some of
their private concerns; adding, with an ingenuous and almost infantine simplicity, ‘‘ I was so much affected with this, that
when one told me you was sickly and would not live, I answered, ’twere better if you were dead. I desire you to forgive
me this uncharitableness.” The letter is subscribed, your most humble and most unfortunate servant. Is. Newton*
The rough draft of Mr Locke’s reply to these afflicting acknowledgments .was kindly communicated to me by a friend
some years ago. It is written with the magnanimity of a philosopher, and with the good-humoured forbearance of a man
of the world; and it breathes throughout so tender and so unaffected a veneration for the good as well as great qualities of
the excellent person to whom it is addressed, as demonstrates at once the conscious integrity of the writer, and the supe¬
riority of his mind to the irritation of little passions. I know of nothing from Locke’s pen which does more honour to his
* It is dated at the Bull in Shoreditch, London, September 1693 ; and is addressed, For John Locke, Esq. at Sir Fra. Masham's
Bart, at Oates, in Essex. ‘ '
DISSERTATION FIRST.
119
ing. These tracts are entirely of a practical
nature, and were plainly intended for a wider
circle of readers than his Essay ; but they every¬
where bear the strongest marks of the same zeal
for extending the empire of Truth and of Reason,
and may be justly regarded as parts of the same
great design.1 It has been often remarked, that
they display less originality than might have
been expected from so bold and powerful a thmk->
er; and, accordingly, both of them have long
fallen into very general neglect. It ought, how¬
ever, to be remembered, that, on the most im¬
portant points discussed in them, new suggestions
are not now to be looked for; and that the great
object of the reader should be, not to learn some¬
thing which he never heard of before, but to
learn, among the multiplicity of discordant pre¬
cepts current in the world, which of them were
sanctioned, and which reprobated by the j udgment
of Locke. The candid and unreserved thoughts
of such a writer upon such subjects as Education,
and the culture of the intellectual powers, possess
an intrinsic value, which is not diminished by
the consideration of their triteness. They not
only serve to illustrate the peculiarities of the
author’s own character and views, but, con¬
sidered in a practical light, come recommended
to us by all the additional weight of his dis¬
criminating experience. In this point of view,
the two tracts in question, but more especially
that on the Conduct of the Understanding, will
always continue to be interesting manuals to
such as are qualified to appreciate the mind from
Avhich they proceeded.*
It must not, however, be concluded from the
apparent triteness of some of Locke’s remarks, to
the present generation of readers, that they were
viewed in the same light by his own contempo-
temper and character; and I introduce it with peculiar satisfaction, in connection with those strictures which truth has ex¬
torted from me on that part of his system which to the moralist stands most in need of explanation and apology.
MR LOCKE TO MR NEWTOR.
“ Sir, Oates, bill October 93.
“ I have been ever since I first knew you so kindly and sincerely your friend, and thought you so much
mine, that I could not have believed what you tell me of yourself, had I had it from any body else. And though I cannot
but be mightily troubled that you should have had so many wrong and unjust thoughts of me, yet, next to the return of
good offices, such as from a sincere good will I have ever done you, I receive your acknowledgment of the contrary as the
kindest thing you could have done me, since it gives me hopes I have net lost a friend I so much valued. After what your
letter expresses, I shall not need to say anything to justify myself to you : I shall always think your own reflection on my
carriage both to you and all mankind will sufficiently do that. Instead of that, give me leave to assure you, that I am more
ready to forgive you than you can be to desire it; and I do it so freely and fully that I wish for nothing more than the op¬
portunity to convince you that I truly love and esteem you; and that I have still the same good will for you as if nothing
of this had happened. To confirm this to you more fully, I should be glad to meet you anywhere, and the rather, because the
conclusion of your letter makes me apprehend it would not be wholly useless to you. I shall always be ready to serve you
to my utmost, in any way you shall like, and shall only need your commands or permission to do it.
“ My book is going to press for a second edition; and, though I can answer for the design with which I writ it, yet,
since you have so opportunely given me notice of what you have said of it, I should take it as a favour if you would point
out to me the places that gave occasion to that censure, that, by explaining myself better, I may avoid being mistaken by
others, or unwillingly doing the least prejudice to truth or virtue. I am sure you are so much a friend to both, that, were
you none to me, I could expect this from you. But I cannot doubt but you would do a great deal more than this for my
sake, who, after all, have all the concern of a friend for you, wish you extremely well, and am, without compliment,” &c. &c.
(For the preservation of this precious memorial of Mr Locke, the public is indebted to the descendants of his triend and
relation the Lord Chancellor King, to whom his papers and library were bequeathed. The original is still in the posses¬
sion of the present representative of that noble family ; for whose flattering permission to enrich my Dissertation with the
above extracts, I feel the more grateful, as I.have not the honour of being personally known to his Lordship.)
* Mr Locke, it would appear, had once intended to publish his thoughts on the Conduct of the Understanding, as an ad¬
ditional chapter to his Essay. “ I have lately,” says he, in a Letter to Mr Molyneux, “ got a little leisure to think of
some additions to my book against the next edition, and within these few days have fallen upon a subject that I know not
how far it will lead me. I have written several pages on it, but the matter, the farther I go, opens the more upon me,
and I cannot get sight of any end of it. The title of the chapter will be, Of the Conduct of the Understanding, which, if I
shall pursue as far as I imagine it will reach, and as it deserves, will, I conclude, make the largest chapter of my Essay.”
Locke’s Works, Vol. IX. p. 407.)
2 A similar remark may be extended to a letter from Locke to his friend Mr Samuel Bold, who had complained to him
of the disadvantages he laboured under from a weakness of memory. It contains nothing but what might have come from
the pen of one of Newberry’s authors ; but wdth what additional interest do we read it, when considered as a comment by
Locke on a suggestion of Bacon’s !—(Locke’s Works, Yol. X. p. 317-) _ ...
t It is a judicious reflection of Shenstone’s, that “ every single observation published by a man of genius, be it ever so tri¬
vial, should be esteemed of importance, because he speaks from Ins ow'r impressions ; whereas common men publish common
things, which they have perhaps gleaned from frivolous writers. I know of few authors to whom this observation applies
more forcibly and happily than to Locke, when he touches on the culture of the intellectual powers. His precepts, indeed,
are not all equally sound ; but they, in general, contain a large proportion of truth, and may always furnish to a specula¬
tive mind mat ter of useful meditation.
120
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
raries. On the contrary, Leibnitz speaks of the
Treatise on Education as a work of still greater
merit than the Essay on Human Understanding.1
Nor will this judgment be wondered at by those
who, abstracting from the habits of thinking in
which they have been reared, transport them¬
selves in imagination to the state of Europe a
hundred years ago. How flat and nugatory
seem now the cautions to parents about watching
over those associations on which the dread of
spirits in the dark is founded ! But how different
was the case (even in Protestant countries) till
a very recent period of the last century !
I have, on a former occasion, taken notice of
the slow hut (since the invention of printing) cer¬
tain steps by which Truth makes its way in the
world; “ the discoveries, which, in one age, are
confined to the studious and enlightened few, be¬
coming, in the next, the established creed of the
learned; and, in the third, forming part of the
elementary principles of education.” The har¬
mony, in the meantime, which exists among truths
of all descriptions, tends perpetually, by blending
them into one common mass, to increase the
joint influence of the whole; the contributions
of individuals to this mass (to borrow the fine
allusion of Middleton) “ resembling the drops of
rain, which, falling separately into the water,
mingle at once with the stream, and strengthen
the general current.” Hence the ambition, so
natural to weak minds, to distinguish themselves
by paradoxical and extravagant opinions; for
these, having no chance to incorporate themselves
with the progressive reason of the species, are
the more likely to immortalise the eccentricity
of their authors, and to furnish subjects of won¬
der to the common compilers of literary history.
This ambition is the more general, as so little
expence of genius is necessary for its gratification.
“ Truth (as Mr Hume has well observed) is owe
thing, but errors are numberless;” and hence
(he might have added) the difficulty of seizing
the former, and the facility of swelling the num¬
ber of the latter.*
Having said so much in illustration of Locke’s
philosophical merits, and in reply to the common
charge against his metaphysical and ethical prin¬
ciples, it now only remains for me to take notice
of one or two defects in his intellectual character,
which exhibit a strong contrast to the general
vigour of his mental powers.
Among these defects, the most prominent is,
the facility with which he listens to historical
evidence, when it happens to favour his own con¬
clusions. Many remarkable instances of this
occur in his long and rambling argument (some¬
what in the style of Montaigne) against the ex¬
istence of innate practical principles; to which
may be added, the degree of credit he appears
to have given to the popular tales about mer¬
maids, and to Sir William Temple’s idle story
of Prince Maurice’s <£ rational and intelligent
parrot.” Strange ! that the same person who,
in matters of reasoning, had divested himself,
almost to a fault, of all reverence for the opinions
of others, should have failed to perceive, that, of
all the various sources of error, one of the most
copious and fatal is an unreflecting faith in hu¬
man testimony!
The disrespect of Locke for the wisdom of
antiquity, is another prejudice which has fre¬
quently given a wrong bias to his judgment.
The idolatry in which the Greek and Roman
writers were held by his immediate predecessors,
although it may help to account for this weak¬
ness, cannot altogether excuse it in a man of so
strong and enlarged an understanding. Locke
(as we are told by Dr Warton) “ affected to de¬
preciate the ancients; which circumstance (he
adds), as I am informed from undoubted autho¬
rity, was the source of perpetual discontent and
dispute betwixt him and his pupil, Lord Shaftes-
1 Leib. Op. Tom. VI. p. 226.
2 Descartes has struck into nearly the same train of thinking with the above, but his remarks apply much better to the
writings of Locke than to his own. /
“ L’experience m’apprit, que quoique mes opinions surprennent d’ahord, parce qu’elles sont fort differentes des vul-
gaires, cependant, apres qu’on les a comprises on les trouve si simples et si conformes au sens commun, qu’on cesse
entierement de les admirer, et par la meme d’en faire cas: pareeque tel est le naturel des hommes qu’ils n’estiment
que les choses qui leur laissent d’admiration et qu’ils ne possedent pas tout-a-fait. C’est ainsi que quoique la sante' soit
le plus grand de tous les biens qui concernent le corps, c’est pourtant celui auquel nous faisons le moins de re'flexion,
et que nous goutons le moins. Or, la connoissance de la verite est comme la sante de 1’ame; lorsque on la possede on
n’y pense plus.”—Leitres, Tome I. Lettre xliii.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
12 f
bury; who, in many parts of the Characteristics,
has ridiculed Locke’s philosophy, and endea¬
voured to represent him as a disciple of Hobbes.”
To those who are aware of the direct opposition
between the principles of Hobbes, of Montaigne,
of Gassendi, and of the other minute philosophers
with whom Locke sometimes seems unconsci¬
ously to unite his strength,—and the principles
of Socrates, of Plato, of Cicero, and of all the
soundest moralists, both of ancient and of mo¬
dern times, the foregoing anecdote will serve at
once to explain and to palliate the acrimony of
some of Shaftesbury’s strictures on Locke’s
Ethical paradoxes.1
With this disposition of Locke to depreciate
the ancients, was intimately connected that con¬
tempt which he everywhere expresses for the
study of Eloquence, and that perversion of taste
which led him to consider Blackmore as one of
the first of our English poets.2 That his own
imagination was neither sterile nor torpid, ap¬
pears sufficiently from the agreeable colouring
and animation which it has not unfrequently
imparted to his style : but this power of the mind
he seems to have regarded with a peculiarly jea¬
lous and unfriendly eye; confining his view ex¬
clusively to its ofeasional effects in misleading
the judgment, and overlooking altogether the
important purposes to which it is subservient,
both in our intellectual and moral frame. Hence,
in all his writings, an inattention to those more
attractive aspects of the mind, the study of which
(as Burke has well observed) “ while it com¬
municates to the taste a sort of philosophical
solidity, may he expected to reflect back on the
severer sciences some of those graces and ele¬
gancies, without which the greatest proficiency
m these sciences will always have the appear¬
ance of something illiberal.”
To a certain hardness of character, not unfre-
quentlyunited with an insensibility to the charms
of poetry and of eloquence, may partly be as¬
cribed the severe and forbidding spirit which
has suggested some of the maxims in his Traci
on Education.* He had been treated, himself,
it would appear, with very little indulgence by
his parents; and probably was led by that filial
veneration which he always expressed for their
memory, to ascribe to the early habits of self-
denial imposed on him by their ascetic system
of ethics, the existence of those moral qualities
which he owed to the regulating influence of his
own reason in fostering his natural dispositions ;
and which, under a gentler and more skilful cul¬
ture, might have assumed a still more engaging
and amiable form. His father, who had served
in the Parliament’s army, seems to have retain¬
ed through life that austerity of manners which
characterised his puritanical associates; and,
notwithstanding the comparative enlargement
and cultivation of Mr Locke’s mind, something
of this hereditary leaven, if I am not mistaken,
continued to operate upon many of his opinions
and habits of thinking. If, in the Cemduct of
the Understanding, he trusted (as many have
thought) too much to nature, and laid too little
stress on logical rules, he certainly fell into the
opposite extreme in everything connected with
the culture of the heart; distrusting nature al¬
together, and placing his sole confidence in the
effects of a systematical and vigilant discipline.
That the great object of education is not to
thwart and disturb, hut to study the aim, and to
facilitate the accomplishment of her beneficial
arrangements, is a maxim, one should think,
obvious to common sense; and yet it is only of
late years that it has begun to gain ground even
among philosophers. It is but justice to Rous¬
seau to acknowledge, that the zeal and elo¬
quence with which he has enforced it, go far
to compensate the mischievous tendency of some
of his other doctrines.
To the same causes it was probably owing,
that Locke has availed himself so little in his
Conduct of the Understanding, of his own favou¬
rite doctrine of the Association of Ideas. He
•> « ah^ ^kiloscphi (says Cicero) qui a Platone et Socrate, et ab ea familia dissident.
All our English poets, except Milton,” says Molyneux in a letter to Locke, “ have been mere ballad-makers in
comparison to Sir Richard Blackmore.” In reply to which Locke says, “ There is, I with pleasure find, a strange har-
ni03ny throughout between your thoughts and mine.”—(Locke’s Works, Vol. IX. pp. 423, 42C.)
Such, for example, as this, that “ a child should never be suffered to have what he craves, or so much as speaks for,
niucli less if he cries for it!” A maxim (as his correspondent Molyneux observes) “ which seems to bear hard on the
en ei spirits of children, and the natural affections of parents.”—(Locke’s Works, Vol. IX. p. 319.)
BISS. I. PART II.
O
122
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
lias been, indeed, at sufficient pains to warn pa¬
rents and guardians of the mischievous conse¬
quences to he apprehended from this part of our
constitution, if not diligently watched over in
our infant years. But he seems to have alto¬
gether overlooked the positive and immense re¬
sources which might be derived from it, in the
culture and amelioration, both of our intellec¬
tual and moral powers;—in strengthening (for
instance), by early habits of right thinking, the
authority of reason and of conscience;—in blend¬
ing with our best feelings the congenial and
ennobling sympathies of taste and of fancy;—
and in identifying, with the first workings of
the imagination, those pleasing views of the
order of the universe, which are so essentially
necessary to human happiness. A law of our
nature, so mighty and so extensive in its influ¬
ence, was surely not given to man in vain; and
the fatal purchase which it has, in all ages, af¬
forded to Machiavellian statesmen, and to poli¬
tical religionists, in carrying into effect their
joint conspiracy against the improvement and
welfare of our species, is the most decisive proof
of the manifold uses to which it might he turn¬
ed in the hands of instructors, well disposed and
well qualified humbly to co-operate with the ob¬
vious and unerring purposes of Divine Wisdom.
A more convenient opportunity will after¬
wards occur for taking some notice of Locke’s
writings on Money and Trade, and on the Prin¬
ciples of Government. They appear to me to
connect less naturally and closely with the li¬
terary history of the times when they appeared,
than with the systematical views which were
opened on the same subjects about fifty years
afterwards, by some speculative politicians in
France and in England. I shall, therefore, de¬
lay any remarks on them which I have to offer,
till we arrive at the period when the questions
to which they relate began everywhere to at¬
tract the attention of the learned world, and to
be discussed on those general principles of ex¬
pediency and equity, which form the basis of
the modern science of Political Economy. With
respect to his merits as a logical and metaphysi¬
cal reformer, enough has heen already said for
this introductory section : but I shall have oc¬
casion, more than once, to recur to them in the
following pages, when I come to review those
later theories, of which the germs or rudiments
may be distinctly traced in his works; and of
which he is, therefore, entitled to divide the
praise with such of his successors as have rear¬
ed to maturity the prolific seeds scattered by
his hand.1
SECTION II.
Continuation of the Review of Locke and Leibnitz.
LEIBNITZ.
Independently of the pre-eminent rank,
which the versatile talents and the universal
learning of Leibnitz entitle him to hold among
the illustrious men who adorned the Continent
of Europe during the eighteenth century, there
are other considerations which have determin¬
ed me to unite his name with that of Locke, in
fixing the commencement of the period, on the
history of which I am now to enter. The
school of which he was the founder was strong¬
ly discriminated from that of Locke, by the ge¬
neral spirit of its doctrines; and to this school
a large proportion of the metaphysicians, and
also of the mathematicians of Germany, Hol-
1 And yet with what modesty does Locke speak of his own pretensions as a Philosopher! “ In an age that produces such
masters as the great Huygenius and the incomparable Mr Newton, it is ambition enough to be employed as an under¬
labourer in clearing the ground a little, and removing some of the rubbish that lies in the way to knowledge.”—(Essay on
Human Understanding. Epistle to the Reader.) See Note Z.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
123
land, France, and Italy, have ever since his
time had a decided leaning. On the funda¬
mental question, indeed, concerning the Origin
of our Knowltdge, the philosophers of the Con¬
tinent (with the exception of the Germans, and
a few eminent individuals in other countries)
have, in general, sided with Locke, or rather
with Gassendi; hut, in most other instances, a
partiality for the opinions, and a deference for
the authority of Leibnitz, may he traced in their
speculations, both on metaphysical and physical
subjects. Hence a striking contrast between
the characteristical features of the continental
philosophy, and those of the contemporary sys¬
tems which have succeeded each other in our
own island; the great proportion of our most
noted writers, notwithstanding the opposition
of their sentiments on particular points, having
either attached themselves, or professed to attach
themselves, to the method of inquiry recom¬
mended and exemplified by Locke.
But the circumstance which chiefly induced
me to assign to Leibnitz so prominent a place
in this historical sketch, is the extraordinary
influence of his industry and zeal, in uniting,
by a mutual communication of intellectual lights
and of moral sympathies, the most powerful
and leading minds scattered over Christendom.
Some preliminary steps towards such an union
had been already taken by Wallis in England,
and by Mersenne in France; but the literary
commerce, of which they were the centres, was
confined almost exclusively to Mathematics and
to Physics; while the comprehensive corre¬
spondence of Leibnitz extended alike to every
pursuit interesting to man, either as a specu¬
lative or as an active being. From this time
forward, accordingly, the history of philosophy
involves, in a far greater degree than at any
former period, the general history of the human
mind; and Ave shall find, in our attempts to
trace its farther progress, our attention more
and more irresistibly withdraAvn from local de¬
tails to more enlarged \dews of the globe which
we inhabit. A striking change in this literary
commerce among nations took place, at least in
the western parts of Europe, before the death
of Leibnitz; hut, during the remainder of the
last century, it continued to proceed with an
accelerated rapidity over the whole face of the
civilised world. A multitude of causes, un¬
doubtedly, conspired to produce it; hut I know
of no individual whose name is better entitled
than that of Leibnitz, to mark the era of its
commencement.1
I have already, in treating of the philosophy
of Locke, said enough, and perhaps more than
enough, of the opinion of Leibnitz concerning
the origin of our knowledge. Although expressed
in a different phraseology, it agrees in the most
essential'points with the innate ideas of the Car¬
tesians ; hut it approaches still more nearly to
some of the mystical speculations of Plato. The
very exact coincidence between the language of
Leibnitz on this question, and that of his con¬
temporary Cudworth, whose mind, like his own,
was deeply tinctured with the Platonic Meta¬
physics, is not unworthy of notice here, as an
historical fact; and it is the only remark on this
part of his system which I mean to add at pre¬
sent to those in the preceding history.
“ The seeds of our acquired knowledge,” says
Leibnitz, <£ or, in other words, our ideas, and
the eternal truths which are derAed from them,
are contained in the mind itself; nor is this won¬
derful, since Ave knoAV by our own consciousness,
that we possess within ourselves the ideas of ex¬
istence, of unity, of substance, of action, and other
ideas of a similar nature.” To the same purpose,
we are told by Cudworth, that “ the mind con¬
tains in itself virtually (as the future plant or
tree is contained in the seed) general notions of
all things which unfold and discover themselves
as occasions invite, and proper circumstances
occur.”
The metaphysical theories, to the establish-
« n followinS Iriaxirns of Leibnitz deserve the serious attention of all who have at heart the improvement of mankind:
On trouye dans le monde plusieurs personnes bien intentionnees; mais le mal est, qu’elles ne s’entendent point, et ne
travaulent point de concert. S’il y avoit moyen de trouver une espece de glu pour les reunir, on feroit quelque chose,
mal est souvent que les gens de bien ont quelques caprices ou opinions particulieres, qui font qu’ils sont contraires
entr eux .....L’esprit sectaire consiste proprement dans cette pretention de vouloir que les autres se reglent sur nos
maximeg, au lieu qu’on se devroit contenter de voir qu’on aille au but principal.”—(Leib. Op. Tom. I. p. 740.)
124
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ment of wliicli Leibnitz chiefly directed the force
of his genius, are the doctrine of Pre-established
Harmony; and the scheme of Optimism, as new mo¬
delled by himself. On neither of these heads will
it be necessary for me long to detain my readers.
1. According to the system of Pre-established
Harmony, the human mind and human body
are two independent but constantly correspond¬
ent machines ;—adjusted to each other like two
unconnected clocks, so constructed, that, at the
same instant, the one should point the hour, and
the other strike it. Of this system the follow¬
ing summary and illustration are given by Leib¬
nitz himself, in his Essay entitled Theodicoia :
“ I cannot help coming into this notion, that
God created the soul in such manner at first,
that it should represent within itself all the
simultaneous changes in the body; and that he
has made the body also in such manner, as that
it must of itself do what the soul wills :—So that
the laws which make the thoughts of the soul
follow each other in regular succession, must
produce images which shall be coincident with
the impressions made by external objects upon
our organs of sense; while the laws by which
the motions of the body follow each other, are
likewise so coincident with the thoughts of the
soul, as to give to our volitions and actions the very
same appearance, as if the latter were really the
natural and the necessary consequences of the
former.”—(Leib. Op. I. p. 163.) Upon another
occasion he observes, that “ every thing goes on
in the soul as if it had no body, and that every
thing goes on in the body as if it had no soul.”
{Ibid. II. p. 44.)
To convey his meaning still more fully, Leib¬
nitz borrows from Mr Jaquelot1 a comparison,
which, whatever may be thought of its justness,
must be at least allowed some merit in point of
ingenuity. C£ Suppose that an intelligent and
powerful being, who knew, beforehand, every
particular thing that I should order my footman
to do to-morrow, should make a machine to re¬
semble my footman exactly, and punctually to
perform, all day, whatever I directed. On this
supposition, would not my will in issuing all the
details of my orders, remain, in every respect,
in the same circumstances as before? And would
not my machine-footman, in performing his dif¬
ferent movements, have the appearance of acting
only in obedience to my commands ?” The in¬
ference to be drawn from this comparison is,
that the movements of my body have no direct
dependence whatever on the volitions of my
mind, any more than the actions of my machine-
footman would have on the words issuing from
my lips. The same inference is to be extended
to the relation which the impressions made on my
different senses bear to the co-existent percep¬
tions arising in my mind. The impressions and
perceptions have no mutual connection, resembling
that of physical causes with their effects; but
the one series of events is made to correspond
invariably with the other, in consequence of an
eternal harmony between them pre-established by
their common Creator.
From this outline of the scheme of Pre-establish¬
ed Harmony, it is manifest, that it took its rise
from the very same train of thinking which
produced Malebranche’s doctrine of Occasional
Causes. The authors of both theories saw clearly
the impossibility of tracing the mode in which
mind acts on body, or body on mind; and hence
were led rashly to conclude, that the connection or
union which seems to exist between them is not
real, but apparent. The inferences, however,
which they drew from this common principle
were directly opposite; Malebranche maintain¬
ing, that the communication between mind and
body was carried on by the immediate and in¬
cessant agency of the Deity; while Leibnitz con¬
ceived, that the agency of God was employed
only in the original contrivance and mutual ad¬
justment of the two machines;—all the subsequent
phenomena of each being the necessary results
of its own independent mechanism, and, at the
same time, the progressive evolutions of a com¬
prehensive design, harmonising the laws of the
one with those of the other.
Of these two opposite hypotheses, that of Leib¬
nitz is by far the more unphilosophical and un¬
tenable. The chief objection to the doctrine of
1 Author of a Book entitled Conformity de la Foi avec la Raison.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
125
occasional causes is, that it presumes to decide
upon a question of which human reason is alto¬
gether incompetent to judge;—our ignorance of
the mode in which matter acts upon mind, or
mind upon matter, furnishing not the shadow of
a proof that the one may not act directly and
immediately on the other, in some way incom¬
prehensible by our faculties.1 But the doctrine
of Pre-established Harmony, besides being equally
liable to this objection, labours under the ad¬
ditional disadvantage of involving a perplexed
and totally inconsistent conception of the nature
of Mechanism ;—an inconsistency, by the way,
with which all those philosophers are justl y charge¬
able, who imagine that, by likening the universe
to a machine, they get rid of the necessity of
admitting the constant agency of powers essen¬
tially different from the known qualities of mat¬
ter. The word Mechanism properly expresses a
combination of natural powers to produce a cer¬
tain effect. When such a combination is success-
fal, a machine, once set a-going, will sometimes
continue to perform its office for a considerable
time, without requiring the interposition of the
artist: And hence we are led to conclude, that
the case may perhaps be si miliar with respect to
the universe, when once put into motion by the
Deity. This idea Leibnitz carried so far as to
exclude the supposition of any subsequent agency
in the first contriver and mover, excepting in
the case of a miracle. But the falseness of the
analogy appears from this, that the moving force
in every machine is some natural power, such
as gravity or elasticity; and, consequently, the
very idea of mechanism assumes the existence of
those active powers, of which it is the professed
object of a mechanical theory of the universe to
give an explanation. Whether, therefore, with
Malebranche, we resolve every effect into the
immediate agency of God, or suppose, with the
great majority of Newtonians, that he employs
the instrumentality of second causes to accom¬
plish his purposes, we are equally forced to ad¬
mit with Bacon, the necessity not only of a first
contriver and mover, but of his constant and effi¬
cient concurrence (either immediately or me¬
diately) in carrying his design into execution :—
“ Opus (says Bacon) quod operatur Deus a pri-
mordio usque ad finem.”
In what I have now said I have confined my¬
self to the idea of Mechanism as it applies to the
material universe; for, as to this word, when
1 The mutual action, or (as it was called in the schools) the mutual influence (influxus) of soul and body, was, till the
time of Descartes, the prevailing hypothesis, both among the learned and the vulgar. The reality of this influx, if not
positively denied by Descartes, was at least mentioned by him as a subject of doubt; but by Malebranche and Leibnitz it
was confidently rejected as absurd and impossible. (See their works passim.) Gravesande, who had a very strong leaning
towards the doctrines of Leibnitz, had yet the good sense to perceive the inconclusiveness of his reasoning in this particu¬
lar instance, and states in opposition to it the following sound and decisive remarks: “Non concipio, quomodo mens in
corpus agere possit; non etiam video, quomodo ex motu nervi perceptio sequatur; non tamen inde sequi mihi apparet,
omnem influxum esse rejiciendum.
“ Substantiae incognitae sunt. Jam videmus naturam mentis nos latere ; scimus hanc esse aliquid, quod ideas habet, has
confert, &c. sed ignoramus quid sit subjectum, cui hae proprietates conveniant.
“ Hoc idem de corpore dicimus ; est extensum, impenetrabile, &e. sed quid est quod habet hasce proprietates ? Nulla
nobis via aperta est, qua ad hanc cognitionem pervenire possimus.
“ Inde concludimus, multa nos latere, quae proprietates mentis et corporis spectant.
“ Invicta demonstratione constat, non mentem in corpus, neque hoc in illam agere, ut corpus in corpus agit; sed mihi
non videtur inde concludi posse, omnem influxum esse impossibilem.
“ Motu suo corpus non agit in aliud corpus, sine resistente; sed an non actio, omnino diversa, et cujus ideam non habemus,
in aliam substantiam dari possit, et ita tamen, ut causa eflectui respondeat, in re adeo obscura, determinare non ausim.
Difficile certe est influxum negare, quando exacte perpendimus, quomodo in minimis quse mens percipit, relatio detur cum
agitationibus in corpore, et quomodo hujus motus cum mentis determinationibus conveniant. Attendo ad ilia quae medici,
et anatomici, nos de his docent.
“ Nihil, ergo, de systemate influxus determine, praeter hoc, mihi nondum hujus impossibilitatem satis clare demonstratam
esse yideri.”—(Introductio ad Philosophiam.) See Note A A.
With respect to the manner in which the intercourse between Mind and Matter is carried on, a very rash assertion escaped
Mr Locke in the first edition of his Essay. “ The next thing to be considered is, how bodies produce ideas in us, and that
is manifestly by impulse, the only way which we can conceive bodies operate in."—(Essay, B. II. ch. viii. § H.)
In the course of Locke’s controversial discussions with the Bishop of Worcester, he afterwards became fully sensible of
this important oversight; and he had the candour to acknowledge his error in the following terms : “ ’Tis true, I have
said, that bodies operate by impulse, and nothing else. And so I thought when I writ it, and can yet conceive no other
way of their operations. But I am since convinced, by the judicious Mr Newton’s incomparable book,, that it is too bold a
presumption to limit God’s power in this point by my narrow conceptions. ****** And, therefore, in the next edi¬
tion of my book, I will take care to have that passage rectified.”
. It is a circumstance that can only be accounted for by the variety of Mr Locke’s other pursuits, that in all the later edi¬
tions of the Essay which have fallen in my way, the proposition in question has been allowed to remain as it originally stood.
126
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
applied by Leibnitz to the mind, which he calls
a Spiritual Automaton, I confess myself quite un¬
able to annex a meaning to it: I shall not, there¬
fore, offer any remarks on this part of his sys¬
tem.1
To these visionary speculations of Leibnitz,
a strong and instructive contrast is exhibited in
the philosophy of Locke; a philosophy, the main
object of which is less to enlarge our knowledge,
than to make us sensible of our ignorance; or
(as the author himself expresses it) “ to prevail
with the busy mind of man to he cautious in
meddling with things exceeding its comprehen¬
sion ; to stop when it is at the utmost extent of
its tether; and to sit down in a quiet ignorance
of those things, which, upon examination, are
found to he beyond the reach of our capacities.
 “ My right hand writes,” says Locke, in
another part of his Essay, “ whilst my left hand
is still. What causes rest in one, and motion in
the other ? Nothing hut my will, a thought of
my mind; my thought only changing, my right
hand rests, and the left hand moves. This is
matter of fact which cannot he denied. Explain
this and make it intelligible, and then the next
step will he to understand Creation In the
meantime, it is an overvaluing ourselves, to re¬
duce all to the narrow measure of our capaci¬
ties ; and to conclude all things impossible to he
done, whose manner of doing exceeds our com¬
prehension If you do not understand the
operations of your own finite Mind, that think¬
ing thing within you, do not deem it strange
that you cannot comprehend the operations of
that eternal infinite Mind, who made and governs
all things, and whom the heaven of heavens can¬
not contain.”2—(Yol. II. pp. 249, 250.)
This contrast between the philosophical cha¬
racters of Locke and of Leibnitz is the more de¬
serving of notice, as something of the same sort
has ever since continued to mark and to discri¬
minate the metaphysical researches of the Eng¬
lish and of the German schools. Various ex¬
ceptions to this remark may, no doubt, be men¬
tioned ; but these exceptions will be found of
trifling moment, when compared with the indis¬
putable extent of its general application.
The theory of pre-established harmony led,
by a natural and obvious transition, to the scheme
of Optimism. As it represented all events, both
in the physical and moral worlds, as the neces¬
sary effects of a mechanism originally contrived
and set a-going by the Deity, it reduced its au¬
thor to the alternative of either calling in ques¬
tion the Divine power, wisdom, and goodness,
or of asserting that the universe which he had
called into being was the best of all possible
systems. This last opinion, accordingly, was
eagerly embraced by Leibnitz; and forms the
subject of a work entitled Theodiccea, in which
are combined together, in an extraordinary de¬
gree, the acuteness of the logician, the imagina¬
tion of the poet, and the impenetrable, yet sub¬
lime darkness, of the metaphysical theologian.5
The modification of Optimism, however, adopt¬
ed by Leibnitz, was, in some essential respects,
peculiar to himself. It differed from that of
Plato, and of some other sages of antiquity, in
considering the human mind in the light of a
spiritual machine, and, of consequence, in posi-
1 Absurd as the hypothesis of a Pre-established Harmony may now appear, not many years have elapsed since it was the pre¬
vailing, or rather universal creed, among the philosophers of Germany. “ II fut un temps” (says the celebrated Euler)
“ oil le systeme de Pharmonie pre-etablie etoit tellement en vogue dans toute PAllemagne, que ceux qui en doutoient, pas-
soientpour des ignorans, ou desesprits homes.”—(Lettres de M. Euler aune Princesse d'Allemagne, 83e Lettre.) It would
he amusing to reckon up the succession of metaphysical creeds which have been since swallowed with the same implicit faith
by this learned and speculative, and (in all those branches of knowledge where imagination has no influence over the judg¬
ment) profound and inventive nation. .
2 That this is a fair representation of the scope of Locke’s philosophy, according to the author’s own view of it, is demon¬
strated by the two mottos prefixed to the Essay on Human Understanding. The one is a passage of the book of Ecclesiastes,
which, from the place it occupies in the front of his work, may be presumed to express what he himself regarded as the most
important moral to be drawn from his speculations. “ As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones
do grow in the womb of her that is with child; even so, thou knowest not the works of God, who maketh all things. The
other motto (from Cicero) strongly expresses a sentiment which every competent judge must feel on comparing the above quo¬
tations from Locke, with the monads and the pre-established harmony of Leibnitz. “ Quam bellum est velle confiteri potius
nescirequodnescias, quamista eff'utientemnauseare, atque ipsum sibidisplicere !” See Note BB.
3 “ La Theodicee seule (says Fontenelle) suffiroit pour representer M. Leibnitz. Une lecture immense, des anecdotes
curieuses sur les livres ou les personnes, beaucoup d’dquite et meme de faveur pour tous les auteurs cites, fut ce en les
combattant; des vues sublimes et lumineuses, des raisonnemens au fond desquelson sent toujours 1’esprit geometrique, un
style oil la force domine, et oil cependant sont admis les agremens d’une imagination heureuse.”—Eloge de Leibnitz.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
127
tively denying the freedom of human actions.
According to Plato, every thing is right, so far
as it is the work of God;—the creation of beings
endowed with free will, and consequently liable
to moral delinquency—and the government of
the world by general laws, from which oc¬
casional evils must result,—furnishing no ob¬
jection to the perfection of the universe, to which
a satisfactory reply may not he found in the
partial and narrow views of it, to which our fa¬
culties are at present confined. But he held at
the same time, that, although the permission of
moral evil does not detract from the goodness of
God, it is nevertheless imputable to man as a
fault, and renders him justly obnoxious to
punishment. This system (under a variety of
forms) has been in all ages maintained by the
wisest and best philosophers, who, while they
were anxious to vindicate the perfections of God,
saw the importance of stating their doctrine in
a manner not inconsistent with man’s free will
and moral agency.
The scheme of Optimism, on the contrary, as
proposed by Leibnitz, is completely subversive
of these cardinal truths. It was, indeed, view¬
ed by the great and excellent author in a very
different light; hut in the judgment of the most
impartial and profound inquirers, it leads, by a
short and demonstrative process, to the annihi¬
lation of all moral distinctions.1
It is of great importance to attend to the dis¬
tinction between these two systems ; because it
has, of late, become customary among sceptical
writers, to confound them studiously together,
in order to extend to both that ridicule to which
the latter is justly entitled. This, in particu¬
lar, was the case with Voltaire, who, in many
parts of his later works, and more especially in
his Candide, has, under the pretence of expos¬
ing the extravagancies of Leibnitz, indulged his
satirical raillery against the order of the uni¬
verse. The success of his attempt was much
aided by the confused and inaccurate manner
in which the scheme of optimism had been re¬
cently stated by various writers, who, in their
zeal to “ vindicate the ways of God,” had been
1 It is observed by Dr Akenside, that “ the Theory of Optimism has been delivered of late, especially abroad, in a man¬
ner which subverts the freedom of human actions; whereas Plato appears very careful to preserve it, and has been in that re¬
spect imitated by the best of his followers.”—(Notes on the 2d Book of the Pleasures of the Imagination.)
I am perfectly aware, at the same time, that different opinions have been entertained of Plato’s real sentiments on this sub¬
ject; and I readily grant that passages with respect to Fate and Necessity may be collected from his works, which it would be
very difficult to reconcile with any one consistent scheme (See the Notes of Mosheimon his Latin Version of Cudworth’s
Intellectual System, Tome. I. pp. 10. 310, et sec). Lugd. Batav. 1773.)
Without entering at all into this question, I may be permitted here to avail myself, for the sake of conciseness, of Plato’s
name, to distinguish that modification of optimism which I have opposed in the text to the optimism of Leibnitz. The follow¬
ing sentence, in the 10th Book De Kepullica, seems sufficient of itself to authorise this liberty:—’Apit-a hi aViimo™, fa
ariftcL^uv, fXtov kou iXarrov avrris ixctirro; zp.u. atria lAo/utvu. 06«f dvalrio;. Virtus inviolabi/is ac libera qiMm prout honerabit yuis ant
negliget, ita plus aut minus ex ea possidebit. Eligentis qnidem culpa est omnis. Deus vero extra culpam.
A short abstract of the allegory with which Leibnitz concludes his Thcodictxa, will convey a clearer idea of the scope of that
work, than I could hope to do by any metaphysical comment. The groundwork of this allegory is taken from a dialogue
on Free-Will, written by Laurentius Valla, in opposition to Boethius;—in which dialogue, Sextus, the son of Tarquin
the Proud, is introduced as consulting Apollo about his destiny. Apollo predicts to him that he is to violate Lucretia, and
afterwards, with his family, to be expelled from Rome. (Exul inopsque cades irata pulsus ub urbe.) Sextus complains of the
prediction. Apollo replies, that the fault is not his; that he has only the gift of seeing into futurity ; * that all things are
regulated by Jupiter; and that it is to him his complaint should be addressed. (Here finishes the allegory of Valla, which
Leibnitz thus continues, agreeably to his own principles.) In consequence of the advice of the Oracle, Sextus goes to Dodona to
complain to Jupiter of the crime which he is destined to perpetrate. “ Why (says he), oh Jupiter ! have y ou made me
wicked and miserable ? Either change my lot and my will, or admit that the fault is yours, not mine.” Jupiter replies to
him : “ Renounce all thoughts of Rome and of the crown ; be wise, and you shall be happy. If you return to Rome you
are undone.” Sextus, unwilling to submit to such a sacrifice, quits the Temple, and abandons himself to his fate.
After his departure, the high priest, Theodorus, asks Jupiter why he had not given another Will to Sextns. Jupiter
sends Theodorus to Athens to consult Minerva. The goddess shows him the Palace of the Destinies, where are represen¬
tations of all possible worlds, -f each of them containing a Sextus Tarquinius with a different^ Will, leading to a catastrophe
more or less happy. In the last and best of these worlds, forming the summit of the pyramid composed by the others, the
high priest sees Sextus go to Rome, throw every thing into confusion, and violate the wife of his friend. “ \ ou see” (says
the Goddess of Wisdom) “it was not my father that made Sextus wicked. He was wicked from all eternity, and he was
always so in consequence of his own will. ^ Jupiter has only bestowed on him that existence which he could not refuse him
in the best of all possible worlds. He only transferred him from the region of possible to that of actual beings. What great
* “ Futura novi, non facio.”
•f World (it must be remembered) is here synonymous with Universe.^
i “ Vides Sextum a Patre meo non fuisse factum improbum, talis quippe ab omni seternitate fuit, et quidem semper h-
bere; existere tantum ei concessit Jupiter, quod ipsum profecto ejus sapientia mundo, in quo ille continebatur, denegare
non poterat: ergo Sextum e regione possibilium ad rerum existentium classem transtulit.”
128
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS
led to hazard principles more dangerous in their
consequences, than the prejudices and errors
which it was their aim to correct.1
The zeal of Leibnitz in propagating the dogma
of Necessity is not easily reconcileable with the
hostility which, as I have already remarked, he
uniformly displays against the congenial doctri ne
of Materialism. Such, however, is the fact, and
I believe it to be quite unprecedented in the pre¬
vious history of philosophy. Spinoza himself has
not pushed the argument for necessity further
than Leibnitz,—the reasonings of both conclud¬
ing not less forcibly against the free-will of God
than against the free-will of man, and, of con¬
sequence, terminating ultimately in this pro¬
position, that no event in the universe could
possibly have been different from what has actu¬
ally taken place.3 The distinguishing feature of
this article of the Leibnitzian creed is, that, while
the Hobbists and Spinozists were employing their
ingenuity in connecting together Materialism
and Necessity, as branches springing from one
common root, Leibnitz always speaks of the soul
as a machine purely spiritual,*—a machine, how¬
ever, as necessarily regulated by pre-ordained
and immutable laws, as the movements of a clock
or the revolutions of the planets. In consequence
of holding this language, he seemed to represent
Man in a less degrading light than other neces¬
sitarians ; but, in as far as such speculative te-
events does the crime of Sextus draw after it ? The liberty of Rome—the rise of a government fertile in civil and mili¬
tary virtues, and of an empire destined to conquer and to civilise the earth.” Theodorus returns thanks to the goddess,
and acknowledges the justice of Jupiter.
1 Among this number must be included the author of the Essay on Man, who, from a want of precision in his metaphy¬
sical ideas, has unconsciously fallen into various expressions, equally inconsistent with each other and with his own avowed
opinions: , '
If plagues and earthquakes break not Heaven’s design,
Why then a Borgia or a Catiline ?—
Who knows but He whose hand the lightning forms.
Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the storms,
Pours fierce ambition on a Caesar’s mind.
Or turns young Ammon loose to scourge mankind ?—
—The general order since the whole began,
Is kept in Nature, and is kept in Man.
This approaches very nearly to the optimism of Leibnitz, and has certainly nothing in common with the optimism of Plato.
Nor is it possible to reconcile it with the sentiments inculcated by Pope in other parts of the same poem.
What makes all physical and moral ill ?
There deviates Nature, and here wanders Will.
In this last couplet he seems to admit, not only that Will may •wander, but that Nature herself may deviate from the general
order; whereas the doctrine of his universal prayer is, that, while the material world is subjected to established laws, man
is left to be the arbiter of his own destiny :
Yet gav’st me in this dark estate
To know the good from ill,
And, binding Nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will.
In the Dunciad, too, the scheme of Necessity is coupled with that of Materialism, as one of the favourite doctrines of the sect
of free-thinkers.
Of nought so certain as our Reason still,
Of nought so doubtful as of Soul and Will.
“Two things” (says Warburtoh, who professes to speak Pope’s sentiments) “the most self-evident, the existence of our
souls and the freedom of our will P’
2 So completely, indeed, and so mathematically linked, did Leibnitz conceive all truths, both physical and moral, to be
with each other, that he represents the eternal geometrician as incessantly occupied in the solution of this problem,—77ic
State of one Monad (or elementary atom) leing given, to determine the state, past,, present, and future, of the whole universe.
3 “ Cuncta itaque in homine certa sunt, et in antecessum determinata, uti in cseteris rebus omnibus, et anima humana
est spirituale quoddam automatum.'’’—Leib. Op. Tom. I. p. 156.
In a note on this sentence, the editor quotes a passage from Bilfinger, a learned German, in which an attempt is made to
vindicate the propriety of the phrase, by a reference to the etymology of the word automaton. Tins word, it is observed, when
traced to its source, literally expresses something which contains within itself its principle of motion, and, consequently, it ap¬
plies still more literally to Mind than to a machine. The remark, considered in a philological point of view, is indisputably
just; but is it not evident, that it leads to a conclusion precisely contrary to what this author would deduce from it ? What¬
ever mav have been the primitive meaning of the word, its common, or rather.its universal meaning, even among scientific
writers, is, a material machine, moving without any foreign impulse; and, that this was the idea annexed to it by Leibnitz,
appears from his distinguishing it by the epithet spirituale,—an epithet which would have been altogether superfluous had he
intended to convey the opinion ascribed to him by Bilfinger. In applying, therefore, this language to the mind, we may
conclude, with confidence, that Leibnitz had no intention to contrast together mind and body, in respect of their moving or
actuating principles, but only to contrast them in respect of the substances of which they are composed. In a word, he con¬
ceived both of them to be equally machines, made and wound up by the Supreme Being; but the machinery in the one case to
be material, and in the other spiritual.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
129
nets may be supposed to have any practical ef¬
fect on human conduct, the tendency of his doc¬
trines is not less dangerous than that of the most
obnoxious systems avowed by his predecessors.1
The scheme of necessity was still farther adorn¬
ed and sublimed in the Theodiccea of Leibnitz,
by an imagination nurtured and trained in the
school of Plato. <e May there not exist,” he asks
on one occasion, “ an immense space beyond the
region of the stars ? and may not this empyreal
heaven be filled with happiness and glory ? It
may be conceived to resemble an ocean, where
the rivers of all those created beings that are des¬
tined for bliss shall finish their course, when
arrived in the starry system, at the perfection of
their respective natures.”—(Leib. Op. Tom. I.
p. 135.)*
In various other instances, he rises from the
deep and seemingly hopeless abyss of Fatalism,
to the same lofty conceptions of the universe;
and has thus invested the most humiliating article
of the atheistic creed, with an air of Platonic
mysticism. The influence of his example appears
to me to have contributed much to corrupt the
taste and to bewilder the speculations of his coun¬
trymen ; giving birth, in the last result, to that
heterogeneous combination of all that is pernicious
in Spinozism, with the transcendental eccentrici¬
ties of a heated and exalted fancy, which, for
many years past, has so deeply tinctured both
their philosophy and their works of fiction.5
In other parts of Europe, the effects of the Theo-
diccea have not been equally unfavourable. In
France, more particularly, it has furnished to
the few who have cultivated with success the
Philosophy of Mind, new weapons for combat¬
ing the materialism of the Gassendists and Hob-
bists; and, in England, we are indebted to it for
the irresistible reasonings by which Clarke sub¬
verted the foundations on which the whole su¬
perstructure of Fatalism rests.4
It may be justly regarded as a proof of the
The following remark in Madame de Stahl's interesting and eloquent review of German philosophy bears marks of a
haste and precipitation with which her criticisms are seldom chargeable: “ Les opinions de Leibnitz tendent surtout au
perfectionnement moral, s’il est vrai, comme les philosophes Allemands ont tache de le prouver, que le libre arbitre repose
sur la doctrine qui affranchit I’ame des objets exterieures, et que la vertu ne puisse exister sans la parfaite independance
du vouloir.”
2 Tjie celebrated Charles Bonnet, in his work entitled, Contemplation de la Nature, has indulged his imagination so far, in
following out the above conjecture of Leibnitz, as to rival some of the wildest flights of Jacob Behmen. “ Mais I’dchelle
de la creation ne se termine point au plus eleves des mondes planetaires. La commence un autre univers, dont 1’etendue
est peut-etre a celle de 1’univers des Fixes, ce qu’est 1’espace du systeme solaire a la capacite d’une noix.
“ La, comme des Astres resplendissans, brillent les Hierarchies Celestes.
“ Lh rayonnent de toutes parts les Anges, les Archanges, les Seraphins, les Cherubixs, les Trones, les Vertes,
les Principaute's, les Dominations, les Puissances.
“Au centre de ces Augustes Spheres, delate le Soleil he Justice, l’Orient d’Enhaut, dont tous les Astres
empruntent leur lumiere et leur splendour.”
“ La Theodicee de Leibnitz,” the same author tells us in another passage, “ est un de mes livres de devotion: J’ai intitule
mon Exemplaire, Manuel de Philosophic Chritienne."
3 “ The gross appetite of Love (says Gibbon) becomes most dangerous when it is elevated, or rather disguised, by sen¬
timental passion.” The remark is strikingly applicable to some of the most popular novels and dramas of Germany; and
something very similar to it will be found to hold with respect to those speculative extravagancies which, in the German
systems of philosophy, are elevated or disguised by the imposing cant of moral enthusiasm.
In one of Leibnitz’s controversial discussions with Dr Clarke, there is a passage which throws some light on his taste, not
only in matters of science, but in judging of works of imagination. “ Du temps de M. Boyle, et d’autres excellens hommes
qui lieurissoient en Angleterre sous Charles II. on n’auroit pas ose nous debiter des notions si creases. (The notions here al¬
luded to are those of Newton concerning the law of gravitation.) J’espere que le beautemps reviendra sous un aussi bon gou-
vernement que celui d’a present. Le capital de M. Boyle etoit d’inculquer que tout se faisoit mechaniquement dans la phy-
sique. Mais e’est un malheur des hommes, de se degouter enfin de la raison meme, et de s'ennuyer de la lumiere. Les
chimeres commencent a revenir, et plaisent parce qu’elles ont quelque chose de merveilleux. II arrive dans le pays philo-
sophique ce qui est arrivd dans le pays poetique. On s’est lassd des romans raisonnables, tel que la Clelie Franfoise ou
rAramenc Allemande ; et on est revenu depuis quelque temps aux Contes des Fees."—(Cinquieme Ecrit de M. Leibnitz, p. 266.)
From this passage it would seem, that Leibnitz looked forward to the period, when the dreams of the Newtonian philo¬
sophy would give way to some of the exploded mechanical theories of the universe ; and when the Fairy-tales then in fa¬
shion (among which number must have been included those of Count Anthony Hamilton) would be supplanted by the re¬
vival of such reasonable Romances as the Grand Clelia. In neither of these instances does there seem to be much probability,
at present, that his prediction will be ever verified.
The German writers, who, of late years, have made the greatest noise among the sciolists of this country, will be found
or f'or their fame to the new lights which they have struck out, than to the unexpected and grotesque forms in
which they have combined together the materials supplied by the invention of former ages, and of other nations. It is this
combination of truth and error in their philosophical systems, and of right and wrong in their works of fiction, which has
enabled them to perplex the understandings, and to unsettle the principles of so many, both in Metaphysics and Ethics,
n point of profound and extensive erudition, the scholars of Germany still continue to maintain their long established su¬
periority over the rest of Europe.
A very interesting account is given by Leibnitz, of the circumstances which gave occasion to his Theodicaea, in a letter
DISS. I. PART II. R
130
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
progress of reason and good sense among
the Metaphysicians of this country since the
time of Leibnitz, that the two theories of which
I have been speaking, and which, not more than
a century ago, were honoured by the opposition
of such an antagonist as Clarke, are now re¬
membered only as subjects of literary history.—
In the arguments, however, alleged in support of
these theories, there are some logical principles
involved, which still continue to have an ex¬
tensive influence over the reasonings of the
learned, on questions seemingly the most remote
from all metaphysical conclusions. The two
most prominent of these are, the principle of
the Sufficient Reason, and the Law of Continuity ;
both of them so intimately connected with some
of the most celebrated disputes of the last cen¬
tury, as to require a more particular notice than
may, at first sight, seem due to their importance.
I. Of the principle of the Sufficient Reason,
the following succinct account is given by Leib¬
nitz himself, in his controversial correspondence
with Dr Clarke: “ The great foundation of
Mathematics is the principle of contradiction or
identity; that is, that a proposition cannot be
true and false at the same time. But, in order
to proceed from Mathematics to Natural Philo¬
sophy, another principle is requisite (as I have
observed in my Theodiccea) ; I mean, the prin¬
ciple of the Sufficient Reason ; or, in other words,
that nothing happens without a reason why it
should be so, rather than otherwise : And, ac¬
cordingly, Archimedes was obliged, in his book
De JEquilibrio, to take for granted, that if there
be a balance, in which every thing is alike on
both sides, and if equal weights are hung on the
two ends of that balance, the whole will be at
rest. It is because no reason can be given why
one side should weigh down rather than the
other. Now, by this single principle of the
Sufficient Reason, may be demonstrated the being
of a God, and all the other parts of Metaphysics
or Natural Theology; and even, in some measure,
those physical truths that are independent of
Mathematics, such as the Dynamical Principles,
or the Principles of Forces.”
to a Scotch gentleman, Mr Burnet of Kemney ; to whom he seems to have unbosomed himself on all subjects without any
reserve: “ Mon livre intitule Essais de Theodicee, sur la bonte de Dieu, la liberte de 1’homme, et I’origine de mal, sera
bientot acheve. La plus grande partie de cet ouvrage avoit e'te' faite par lambeaux, quand je me trouvois chez la feue Heine
de Prusse, oil ces matieres etoient souvent agitees a 1’occasion du Dictionnaire et des autres ouvrages de M. Bayle, qu’on
y lisoit beaucoup. Apres la mort de cette grande Princesse, j’ai rassemble et augment^ ces pieces sur Pexhortation des
amis qui en etoient informes, et j’en ai fait Pouvrage dont je viens de parler. Comme j’ai medite sur cette matiere depuis
majeunesse,je pretends de Pavoir diseute'e a fond.”—(Leibnitz, Opera, Tom. YI. p. 284.)
In another letter to the same correspondent, he expresses himself thus:
“ La plupart de mes sentimens ont e'te enfin arrete's apres une deliberation de 20 ans: car j’ai commence bien jeune a
me'diter, et je n’avois pas encore 15 ans, quand je mepromenois des journees entieresdans un bois, pour prendre parti entre
Aristote et Democrite. Cependant j’ai change et rechange sur des nouvelles lumieres, et ce n’est que depuis environ 12 ans
que je me trouve satisfait, et que je suis arrive' a des demonstrations sur ces matieres qui n’en paroissent point capables:
(dependant de la maniere que je m’y prends, ces de'monstrations peuvent etre sensibles comme celles des nombres, quoique
le sujet passe 1’imagination.”—(Ibid. p. 253.)
The letter from which this last paragraph is taken is dated in the year 1G97-
My chief reason for introducing these extracts, was to do away an absurd suspicion, which has been countenanced by
some respectable writers (among others by Le Clerc), that the opinions maintained in the Theodicee of Leibnitz were not
his real sentiments, and that his own creed, on the most important questions there discussed, was not very different from
that of Bayle. Gibbon has even gone so far as to say, that “ in his defence of the attributes and providence of the Deity,
he was suspected of a secret correspondence with his adversary.”—(Antiquities of the House of Brunswick.) In support of
this very improbable charge, I do not know that any evidence has ever been produced, except the following passage, in a letter
of his, addressed to a Professor of Theology in the University of Tubingen (PfafRus):—“ Ita prorsus est, vir summe re-
verende, uti scribis, de Theodicaea mea. Hem acu tetigisti; et miror, neminem hactenus fuisse, qui sensum hunc meum
senserit. Neque enim Philosophorum est rem serio semper agere ; qui in fingendis hypothesibus, uti bene mones, ingenii
sui vires experiuntur. Tu, qui Theologus, in refutandis erroribus Theologum agis.” In reply to this it is observed, by
the learned editor of Leibnitz’s works, that it is much more probable that I.eibnitz should have expressed himself on this
particular occasion in jocular and ironical terms, than that he should have wasted so much ingenuity and learning in sup¬
port of an hypothesis to which he attached no faith whatever; an hypothesis, he might have added, with which the whole
principles of his philosophy are systematically, and, as he conceived, mathematically connected. It is difficult to believe,
that among the innumerable correspondents of Leibnitz, he should have selected a Professor of Theology at Tubingen, as
the sole depository of a secret which he was anxious to conceal from all the rest of the world.
Surely a solitary document such as this weighs less than nothing, when opposed to the details quoted in the beginning of
this note; not to mention its complete inconsistency with the character of Leibnitz, and with the whole tenor of his
writings.
For my own part, I cannot help thinking, that the passage in question has far more the air of persiflage provoked by
the vanity of Pfaffius, than of a serious compliment to his sagacity and penetration. No injunction to secrecy, it is to
be observed, is here given by Leibnitz to his correspondent.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
131
Some of the inferences deduced by Leibnitz
from this almost gratuitous assumption are so
paradoxical, that one cannot help wondering he
was not a little staggered about its certainty.
Not only Avas he led to conclude, that the mind
is necessarily determined in all its elections by
the influence of motives, insomuch that it would
be impossible for it to make a choice between two
things perfectly alike ; hut he had the boldness
to extend this conclusion to the Deity, and to
assert, that two things perfectly alike could not
Lave been produced even by Divine Power. It
was upon this ground that he rejected a vaczmw,
because all the parts of it would he perfectly
like to each other; and that he also rejected the
supposition of atoms, or similar particles of mat¬
ter, and ascribed to each particle a monad, or
active principle, by which it is discriminated
from every other particle.1 The application of
his principle, however, on which he evidently
valued himself the most, was that to which I
have already alluded; the demonstrative evidence
with which he conceived it to establish the
impossibility of free-agency, not only in man,
but in any other intelligent being :3 a conclusion
which, under whatever form of words it may be
disguised, is liable to every objection which can
be urged against the system of Spinoza.
With respect to the principle from which these
important consequences were deduced, it is ob¬
servable, that it is stated by Leibnitz in terms
so general and vague, as to extend to all the
different departments of our knowledge ; for he
tells us, that there must he a sufficient reason for
every existence, for every event, and for every
truth. This use of the word reason is so extreme¬
ly equivocal, that it is quite impossible to annex
any precise idea to the proposition. Of this it
is unnecessary to produce any other proof than
the application which is here made of it to things
so very different as existences, events, and truths ;
in all of which cases, it must of necessity have
different meanings. It would he a vain attempt,
therefore, to combat the maxim in the form in
which it is commonly appealed to: Nor, indeed,
can we either adopt or reject it, without con¬
sidering particularly how far it holds in the va¬
rious instances to which it may be applied.
The multifarious discussions, however, of a phy¬
sical, a metaphysical, and a theological nature,3
necessarily involved in so detailed an examina¬
tion, would, in the present times (even if this
were a proper place for introducing them), he
equally useless and uninteresting; the peculiar
opinions of Leibnitz on most questions connect¬
ed with these sciences having already fallen into
complete neglect. But as the maxim still con¬
tinues to be quoted by the latest advocates for
the scheme of necessity, it may not he altogether
superfluous to observe, that, when understood
to refer to the changes that take place in the
material universe, it coincides entirely with the
common maxim, that “ every change implies
the operation of a cause and that it is in con¬
sequence of its intuitive evidence in this particu¬
lar case, that so many have been led to acquiesce
in it, in the unlimited terms in which Leibnitz
has announced it. One thing will he readily
1 See Note C C.
2 The following comment on this part of the Leibnitzian system is from the pen of one of his greatest admirers, Cfozrto
Bonnet: “ Cette Metaphysique transcendante deviendra un peu plus intelligible, si I on
1 caciCICG actuel Q0 l aCLlVltG uGS IDOIIRCIGS ailXClUGUGS Gilt COrrGSpuilLl imiucu.! L ^ t • t mnn’iino
point quelconque de I’univers jusqu’a ses extremitds. Itepresentez-vouz les ordres circulaires e conce <1 b <1
pierre excite dans une eau dormante : Elies vont toujours en s’elargissant et en s’afioiblissan • . . •
“ Mais, 1’etat actuel d’une monade est necessairement determine par son etat antecedent. ^ e m-ci pa ^
F“ ALneiie” W fcntnttnTla Jn* seul Caine. Notre philosophe disoit
■^^idisoirencor^que^Eternel tiedmefreresCvoit^MUis cesse ce Probleme; ^onn^’ en <^ter"
miner 1’dtat passd, present, et futur de tout Tunivers.”—Bonnet, Tom. VIII. p. oCM, .50 , ■) ,
3 Since the time of Leibnitz, the principle of the sufficient reason has been adopted by some mathematicians as a legiti-
mate mode of reasoning in plane geometry ; in which case, the application made of it las jeen in gene j ^ ’
notwithstanding the vague and loose manner in which it is expressed. In this science, owever, le use nrono-
attended with much advantage ; except perhaps in demonstrating a lew elementary ru s (sue 1 as 1 instances
sitions of Euclid’s first book), which are commonly established by a more circuitous process : and, even in these instances,
the spirit of the reasoning might easily be preserved under a different form, much less exceptionab e in p i 1 °g.
132
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
granted, that the maxim, when applied to the
determinations of intelligent and moral agents,
is not quite so obvious and indisputable, as when
applied to the changes that take place in things
altogether inanimate and passive.
What then, it may be asked, induced Leibnitz,
in the enunciation of his maxim, to depart from
the form in which it has generally been stated,
and to substitute, instead of the word cause, the
word reason, which is certainly not only the more
unusual, but the more ambiguous expression of
the two ? Was it not evidently a perception of
the impropriety of calling the motives from
which we act the causes of our actions; or, at
least of the inconsistency of this language with
the common ideas and feelings of mankind ?
The word reason is here much less suspicious,
and much more likely to pass current without
examination. It was therefore with no small
dexterity, that Leibnitz contrived to express his
general principle in such a manner, that the
impropriety of his language should be most ap¬
parent in that case in which the proposition is
instantaneously admitted by every reader as self-
evident ; and to adapt it, in its most precise and
definite shape, to the case in which it was in the
greatest danger of undergoing a severe scrutiny.
In this respect, he has managed his argument
with more address than Collins, or Edwards, or
Hume, all of whom have applied the maxim to
mind, in the very same words in which it is
usually applied to inanimate matter.
But on this article of Leibnitz’s philosophy,
which gave occasion to his celebrated controversy
with Clarke, I shall have a more convenient op¬
portunity to offer some strictures, when I come to
take notice of another antagonist, more formi¬
dable still, whom Clarke had soon after to contend
with on the same ground. The person I allude to
is Anthony Collins ; a writer certainly not once
to be compared with Leibnitz, in the grasp of
his intellectual powers ; but who seems to have
studied this particular question with greater at¬
tention and accuracy, and who is universally al¬
lowed to have defended his opinions concerning
it in a manner far more likely to mislead the opi¬
nions of the multitude.
II. The same remark which has been already
made on the principle of the Sufficient Reason
may be extended to that of the Law of Continui¬
ty. In both instances the phraseology is so in¬
determinate, that it may be interpreted in vari¬
ous senses essentially different from each other;
and, accordingly, it would be idle to argue
against either principle as a general theorem,
without attending separately to the specialties of
the manifold cases which it may be understood
to comprehend. Where such a latitude is taken
in the enunciation of a proposition, which, so
far as it is true, must have been inferred from
an induction of particulars, it is at least possible
that, while it holds in some of its applications, it
may yet be far from possessing any claim to that
universality which seems necessarily to belong
to it, when considered in the light of a metaphy¬
sical axiom, resting on its own intrinsic evi¬
dence.
Whether this vagueness of language was the
effect of artifice, or of a real vagueness in the
author’s notions, may perhaps be doubted; but
that it has contributed greatly to extend his re¬
putation among a very numerous class of readers,
may be confidently asserted. The possession
of a general maxim, sanctioned by the authori¬
ty of an illustrious name, and in which, as in
those of the schoolmen, more seems to he meant
than meets the ear, affords of itself no slight
gratification to the vanity of many; nor is it
inconvenient for a disputant, that the maxims to
which he is to appeal should be stated in so du¬
bious a shape, as to enable him, when pressed
in an ai’gument, to shift his ground at pleasure,
from one interpretation to another. The extra¬
ordinary popularity which, in our own times,
the philosophy of Kant enjoyed, for a few years,
among the countrymen of Leibnitz, may, in like
manner, be in a great degree ascribed to the
imposing aspect of his enigmatical oracles, and
to the consequent facility of arguing without end,
in defence of a system so transmutable and so
elusive in its forms.
The extension, however, given to the Law of
Continuity, in the later publications of Leibnitz,
and still more by some of his successors, has
been far greater than there is any reason to
think was originally in the author’s contempla¬
tion. It first occurred to him in the course of one
of his physical controversies, and was probably
DISSERTATION FIRST.
133
suggested by the beautiful exemplifications of it
which occur in pure geometry. At that time it
does not appear that he had the slightest idea of its
being susceptible of any application to the ob¬
jects of natural history; far less to the succes¬
sion of events in the intellectual and moral
worlds. The supposition of bodies perfectly
hard, having been shown to be inconsistent with
two of his leading doctrines, that of the constant
maintenance of the same quantity of force in
the Universe, and that of the proportionality of
forces to the squares of the velocities,—he found
himself reduced to the necessity of asserting,
that all changes are produced by insensible gra¬
dations, so as to render it impossible for a body
to have its state changed from motion to rest, or
from rest to motion, without passing through all
the intermediate states of velocity. From this
assumption he argued, with much ingenuity,
that the existence of atoms, or of perfectly hard
bodies, is impossible; because, if two of them
should meet with equal and opposite motions,
they would necessarily stop at once, in violation
of the law of continuity. It would, perhaps,
have been still more logical, had he argued
against the universality of a law so gratuitously
assumed, from its incompatibility with an hypo¬
thesis, which, whether true or false, certainly
involves nothing either contradictory or impro¬
bable: but as this inversion of the argument
would have undermined some of the fundamental
principles of his physical system, he chose ra¬
ther to adopt the other alternative, and to an¬
nounce the law of continuity as a metaphysical
truth, which admitted of no exception whatever.
The facili ty with which this law has been adopt¬
ed by subsequent philosophers is not easily ex¬
plicable ; more especially, as it has been main¬
tained by many who reject those physical errors,
in defence of which Leibnitz was first led to
advance it.
One of the earliest, and certainly the most
illustrious, of all the partizans and defenders of
this principle, was John Bernouilli, whose dis¬
course on motion first appeared at Paris in 1727,
having been previously communicated to the
Royal Academy of Sciences, in 1724 and 1726.1
It was from this period it began to attract the
general attention of the learned ; although many
years were yet to elapse, before it was to ac¬
quire that authority which it now possesses
among our most eminent mathematicians.
Mr Maclaurin, whose Memoir on the Percus¬
sion of Bodies gained the prize from the Royal
Academy of Sciences, in 1724, continued from
that time, till his death, the steady opposer of
this new law. In his Treatise of Fluxions, pub¬
lished in 1742, he observes, that <c the existence
of hard bodies void of elasticity has been reject¬
ed for the sake of what is called the Law of
Continuity ; a law which has been supposed to be
general, without sufficient ground.”2 And still
more explicitly, in his Posthumous Account of
Newton’s Philosophical Discoveries, he complains
of those who “ have rejected hard bodies as im¬
possible, from far-fetched and metaphysical con¬
siderations proposing to his adversaries this
unanswerable question, <c Upon what grounds
is the law of continuity assumed as an universal
law of nature?”5
1 “ En effet (says Bernouilli), un pareil principe de duretd (the supposition to wit of bodies perfectly hard) ne scauroit
exister; c’est une chimere qui repugne a cette loi generale que la nature observe constamment dans toutes ses operations,;
je parle de cet ordre hnmuable et perpetuel etabli depuis la crdation de 1’univers, qu'on pent appeller loi de continuite,
en vertu de laquelle tout ce qui s’execute, s’exdcute par des degres infiniment petits. II semble que le bon sens dicte,
qu’aucun changement ne peut se faire par sunt; natura non operatur per saltum; rien ne peut passer d’une extremite a
I’autre, sans passer par tous les degres du milieu,” &c. The continuation of this passage (which I have not room to quote)
is curious, as it suggests an argument, in proof of the law of continuity, from the principle of the sufficient reason.
It may be worth while to observe here, that though, in the above quotation, Bemouilli speaks of the law of continuity. as
an arbitrary arrangement of the Creator, he represents, in the preceding paragraph, the idea of perfectly hard bodies, as in¬
volving a manifest contradiction.
2 Maclaurin’s Fluxions, Vol. II. p. 438.
3 Nearly to the same purpose Mr Bobins, a mathematician and philosopher of the highest eminence, expresses himself
thus : u M. Bernouilli (in his Discours sur les Lois de la Communication du Mouvemcnt), in order to prove that there are no
bodies perfectly hard and inflexible, lays it down as an immutable law of nature, that no body can pass from motion to rest
instantaneously, or without having its velocity gradually diminished. That this is a law of nature, M. Bernouilli thinks is
evident from that principle, Natura non operatur per saltum, and from good sense. But how good sense can, of itself,
WITHOUT EXPEimtENT, DETERMINE ANY OF THE LAWS OF NATURE, IS TO ME VERY ASTONISHING. Indeed, from ally
thing M. Bernouilli has said, it would have been altogether as conclusive to have begun at the other end, and have disput-
134
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
In the speculations hitherto mentioned, the
law of continuity is applied merely to such suc¬
cessive events in the material world as are con¬
nected together hy the relation of cause and
effect; and, indeed, chiefly to the changes which
take place in the state of bodies with respect
to motion and rest. But in the philosophy of
Leibnitz, we find the same law appealed to as
an indisputable principle in all his various re¬
searches, physical, metaphysical, and theologi¬
cal. He extends it with the same confidence to
mind as to matter, urging it as a demonstrative
proof, in opposition to Locke, that the soul never
ceases to think even in sleep or \ndeliquium;l nay,
inferring from it the impossibility that, in the
case of any animated being, there should he
such a thing as death) in the literal sense of
that word.3 It is hy no means probable that
the author was at all aware, when he first intro¬
duced this principle into the theory of motion,
how far it was to lead him in his researches con¬
cerning other questions of greater moment; nor
does it appear that it attracted much notice from
the learned, but as a new mechanical axiom, till
a considerable time after his death.
Charles Bonnet of Geneva, a man of unques¬
tionable talents and of most exemplary worth,
was, as far as I know, the first who entered
fully into the views of Leibnitz on this point 5
perceiving how inseparably the law of con¬
tinuity (as well as the principle of the suffi¬
cient reason) was interwoven with his scheme of
universal concatenation and mechanism; and
inferring from thence not only all the paradoxi¬
cal corollaries deduced from it hy its author,
but some equally bold conclusions of his own,
which Leibnitz either did not foresee in their full
extent, or to which the course of his inquiries
did not particularly attract his attention. The
most remarkable of these conclusions was, that
all the various beings whfch compose the uni¬
verse, form a scale descending downwards with¬
out any chasm or saltus, from the Deity to the
simplest forms of unorganised matter;3 a pro¬
position not altogether new in the history of
philosophy, but which I do not know that any
writer before Bonnet had ventured to assert as
a metaphysical and necessary truth. With what
important limitations and exceptions it must
be received, even when confined to the compa-
ed, that no body can pass instantaneously from motion to rest ; because it is an immutable law of nature that all bodies
shall be flexible.”—(Robins, Vol. II. p. 174. 175.)
In quoting these passages, I would not wish to be understood as calling in question the universality of the Law of Con¬
tinuity in the phenomena of moving bodies ; a point on which I am not led hy the subject of this discourse to offer any
opinion; but on which I intend to hazard some remarks in a Note at the end of it—See Note D D. All that I would here
assert is, that it is a law, the truth of which can be inferred only by an induction from the phenomena; and to which, ac¬
cordingly, we are not entitled to say that there cannot possibly exist any exceptions.
1 “ Je tiens que Tame, et meme le corps, n’est jamais sans action, et que Fame n’est jamais sans quelque perception ;
meme en dormant on a quelque sentiment confus et sombre du lieu oil Fon est, et d’autres choses. Mais quand Vexptrience
ne le confirmeroit pas, je crois qu'il y en a demonstration. C’est a peu pres comme on ne sqauroit prouver absolument par les
experiences, s’il n’y a point de vuide dans Fespace, et s’il n’y a point de repos dans la matiere. Et cependant ces questions
me paroissent decidees demonstrativement, aussi bien qu’a M. Locke.”—(Leib. Op. Tome II. p. 220.)
? See Note EE.
3 “ Leibnitz admettoit comme un principe fondamental de sa sublime pliilosophie, qu’il n’y a jamais de sauts dans la
nature, et que tout est continu ou nuance dans le physique et dans le moral. C’e'toit sa fameuse Loi de Continuity,
qu’il croyoit retrouver encore dans les mathematiques, et cj’avoit ete cette loi qui lui avoit inspire la singuliere pre¬
diction dont je parlois.”* “ Tous les etres, disoit il, ne forment qu’une seule chaine, dans laquelle les diflerentes classes,
comme autant d’anneaux, tiennent si etroitement les unes aux autres, qu’il est impossible aux sens et a Fimagination de
fixer precisdment le point oil quelqu’un commence ou finit: toutes les especes qui bordent ou qui occupent, pour ainsi
dire, les regions d’inflection, et de rebroussement, devoit etre Equivoques et douees de caracteres qui peuvent se rapporter
aux especes voisins egalement. Ainsi, Fexistence des zoophytes ou Plant-Animaux n’a rien de monstrueux ; mais il est
meme convenable a Fordre de la nature qu’il y en ait. Et telle est la force du principe de continuite chez moi, que non
seulement je ne serois point Etonne d’apprendre, qu’on eut trouvE des etres, qui par rapport a plusieurs propriEtEs, par
exemple, celle de se nourrir ou de se multiplier, puissent passer pour des vegEtaux a aussi bon droit que pour des
animaux, . . . J’en serois si peu EtonnE, dis-je, que meme je suis convaincu qu’il doit y en avoir de tels, que FHistoire
Naturelle parviendra peut-etre a connoitre un jour,” &c. &c.—f Contemplation de la Nature, pp. 341. 342.)
Bonnet, in the sequel of this passage, speaks of the words of Leibnitz, as a prediction of the discovery of the Polypus,
deduced from the Metaphysical principle of the Law of Continuity. But wo.uld it not be more philosophical to regard
it as a query founded on the analogy of nature, as made known to us by experience and observation ?j-
* La prEdiction de la dEcouverte des Polypes.
+ Ad eum modum summus opifex rerum seriem concatenavit a planta ad hominem, ut quasi sine ullo cohoereant
intervallo ; sic ZuoQura. cum plantis bruta conjungunt; sic cum homine simia quadrupedes. Itaque in hominis quaque
specie invenimus divinos, humanos, feros.—Scaligee, (prefixed as a motto to Mr White’s Essay on the regular gradation
in Man. London, 1799.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
135
rative anatomy of animals, has been fully de¬
monstrated by Cuvier;1 and it is of material
consequence to remark, that these exceptions,
how few soever, to a metaphysical principle, are
not less fatal to its truth than if they exceeded in
number the instances which are quoted in sup¬
port of the general rule.a
At a period somewhat later, an attempt has
been made to connect the same law of continuity
with the history of human improvement, and
more particularly with the progress of invention
in the sciences and arts. Helvetius is the most
noted writer in whom I have observed this last
extension of the Leibnitzian principle; and I
have little doubt, from his known opinions, that,
when it occurred to him, he conceived it to af¬
ford a new illustration of the scheme of necessi¬
ty, and of the mechanical concatenation of all
the phenomena of human life. Arguing in sup¬
port of his favourite paradox concerning the ori¬
ginal equality of all men in point of mental capa¬
city, he represents the successive advances made
by different individuals in the career of discovery,
as so many imperceptible or infinitesimal steps,
each individual surpassing his predecessor by a
trifle, till at length nothing is wanting but an
additional mind, not superior to the others in
natural powers, to combine together, and to
turn to its own account, their accumulated la¬
bours. <c It is upon this mind,” he observes,
C£ that the world is always ready to bestow the
attribute of genius. From the tragedies of The
Passion, to the poets Hardy and Rotrou, and to
the Mariamne of Tristan, the French theatre
was always acquiring successively an infinite
number of inconsiderable improvements. Cor¬
neille was born at a moment, when the addition
he made to the art could not fail to form an
epoch; and accordingly Corneille is universally
regarded as a Genius. I am far from wishing,”
Helvetius adds, “ to detract from the glory of
this great poet. I wish only to prove, that Na¬
ture never proceeds per saltum, and that the Law
of Continuity is always exactly observed. The re¬
marks, therefore, now made on the dramatic
art, may also be applied to the sciences which
rest on observation.”5—(De VEsprit, Dis. IV.
Chap. I.)
With this last extension of the Law of Con¬
tinuity, as well as with that of Bonnet, a care¬
less reader is the more apt to be dazzled, as there
is a large mixture in both of unquestionable
truth. The mistake of the ingenious writers
lay in pushing to extreme cases a doctrine, which,
1 Lecons d'Anatomie Compartc.
* While Bonnet was thus employing his ingenuity in generalising, still farther than his predecessors had done, the law
of continuity, one of the most distinguished of his fellow citizens, with whom he appears to have been connected in the
closest and most confidential friendship (the very ingenious M. Le Sage), was led, in the course of his researches concerning
the physical cause of gravitation, to deny the existence of the law, even in the descent of heavy bodies. “ The action of
gravity (according to him) is not continuous.” In other words, “ each of its impressions is finite; and the interval of time
which separates it from the following impression is of a finite duration.” Of this proposition he offers a proof, which he
considers as demonstrative; and thence deduces the following very paradoxical corollary, That “ Projectiles do not move
in curvilinear paths, but in rectilinear polygons.” *—“ C’est ainsi (he adds) qu’un pres, qui vu de pres, se trouve couvert
de parties vertes reellement separees, offre cependant aux personnes qui le regardent de loin, la sensation d’une verdure
continue': Et qu’un corps poll, auquel le microscope decouvre mille solutions de continuity, paroit a Poeil nu, posseder une
continuity parfaite.”
“ Generalement, le simple bons sens, qui veut, qu’on suspende son jugement sur ce qu’on ignore, et que 1’on ne tranche
pas hardiment sur la non-existence de ce qui echappe a nos sens, auroit du empecher des gens qui s’appelloient philosophes
de decider si dogmatiquement, la continuity ryelle, de ce qui avoit une continuity apparente ; et la non-existence des in-
tervalles qu’ils n’apercevoient pas.”—(Essai de Chymie Mecanique. Couronne en 1758, Par 1’Academic de Rouen: Imprime
a Geneve, 1761. pp. 94. 95. 96.)
5 It may, perhaps, be alleged, that the above allusion to the Law of Continuity was introduced merely for the sake of il¬
lustration, and that the author did not mean his words to be strictly interpreted; but this remark will not be made by those
who are acquainted with the philosophy of Helvetius.
Let me add, that, in selecting Corneille as the only exemplification of this theory, Helvetius has been singularly unfor¬
tunate. It would have been difficult to have named any other modern poet, in whose works, when compared with those of
ms immediate predecessors, the Law of Continuity has been more remarkably violated. “ Corneille (says a most judicious
French critic) est, pour ainsi dire, de notre terns; mais ses contemporains n’en sont pas. Le Cid, les Horaces, Cinna,^ Po-
lieucte, foment le commencement de cette chaine brillante qui rdunit notre litterature actuelle de celle du regne de^ Riche¬
lieu et de la minority de Louis XIV.; mais autour de ces points lumineux regne encore une nuit profonde ; leur eclat les
rapproche en apparence de nos yeux ; le reste, repoussy dans 1’obscurite, semble bien loin de nous. Pour nous Corneille
est moderne, et Rotrou ancien,” &c. (For detailed illustrations and proofs of these positions, see a slight but masterly his¬
torical sketch of the French Theatre, by M. Suard.)
Ullas vero curvas in rerum natura esse negavere multi. Nominabo tantum, qui nunc occurrunt: Lubinum, Bassonem,
Regium, Bonartem, et quem parum abest, quin addam Ilobbesium."—(Leibnitz, Op. Tom. II. p. 47.)
136
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
when kept within certain limits, is not only so¬
lid hut important; a mode of reasoning, which,
although it may he always safely followed out in
pure Mathematics (where the principles on
which we proceed are mere definitions), is a
never-failing source of error in all the other
sciences; and which, when practically applied
to the concerns of life, may he regarded as an
infallible symptom of an understanding better
fitted for the subtle contentions of the schools,
than for those average estimates of what is ex¬
pedient and practicable in the conduct of affairs,
which form the chief elements of political saga¬
city and of moral wisdom.1
If on these two celebrated principles of Leib¬
nitz, I have enlarged at greater length than may
appear to some of my readers to he necessary,
I must remind them, ls£, Of the illustration
they afford of what Locke has so forcibly urged
with respect to the danger of adopting, upon the
faith of reasonings a priori, metaphysical conclu¬
sions concerning the laws by which the universe
is governed: 2dly, Of the proof they exhibit of
the strong bias of the human mind, even in the
present advanced stage of experimental know¬
ledge, to grasp at general maxims, without a
careful examination of the grounds on which
they rest; and of that less frequent, but not less
unfortunate bias, which has led some of our
most eminent mathematicians to transfer to
sciences, resting ultimately on an appeal to facts,
those habits of thinking which have been formed
amidst the hypothetical abstractions of pure
geometry: Lastly, Of the fight they throw on
the mighty influence which the name and autho¬
rity of Leibnitz have, for more than a century
past, exercised over the strongest and acutest
understandings in the most enlightened coun¬
tries of Europe.
It would be improper to close these reflections
on the philosophical speculations of Leibnitz,
without taking some notice of his very ingenious
and original thoughts on the etymological study
of languages, considered as a guide to our con¬
clusions concerning the origin and migrations of
different tribes of our species. These thoughts
were published in 1710, in the Memoirs of the
Berlin Academy; and form the first article of
the first volume of that justly celebrated collec¬
tion. I do not recollect any author of an ear¬
lier date, who seems to have been completely
aware of the important consequences to which
the prosecution of this inquiry is likely to lead;
nor, indeed, was much progress made in it by
any of Leibnitz’s successors, till towards the end
of the last century; when it became a favourite
object of pursuit to some very learned and inge¬
nious men, both in France, Germany, and Eng¬
land. Now, however, when our knowledge of
the globe, and of its inhabitants, is so wonder¬
fully enlarged by commerce, and by conquest;
and when so great advances have been made in
the acquisition of languages, the names of which,
till very lately, were unheard of in this quarter
of the world;—there is every reason to hope for
a series of farther discoveries, strengthening pro¬
gressively, by the multiplication of their mutual
points of contact, the common evidence of their
joint results; and tending more and more to
dissipate the darkness in which the primeval
history of our race is involved. It is a field, of
which only detached corners have hitherto been
explored; and in which, it may be confidently
presumed, that unthought of treasures still lie
hid, to reward sooner or later the researches of
our posterity.2
My present subject does not lead me to speak
of the mathematical and physical researches,
1 Locke has fallen into a train of thought very similar to that of Bonnet, concerning the Scale of Beings ; but has ex¬
pressed himself with far greater caution stating it modestly as an inference deduced from an induction of particulars, not
as the result of any abstract or metaphysical principle.—(See Locke’s Works, Vol. III. p. 101.) In one instance, indeed, e
avails himself of an allusion, which, at first sight, may appear to favour the extension of the mathematical Law of Continuity
to the works of creation ; but it is evident, from the context, that he meant this allusion merely as a popular illustration ot
a fact in Natural History ; not as the rigorous enunciation of a theorem applicable alike to all truths, mathematical, physi¬
cal, and moral. “ It is a hard matter to'say where sensible and rational begin, and where insensible and irrational end;
and who is there quick-sighted enough to determine precisely, which is the lowest species of living things, and which is the
first of those who have no life ? Things, as far as we can observe, lessen and augment, as the quantity does in a. regular
cone, where, though there be a manifest odds betwixt the bigness of the diameter at a remote distance, yet the difference
between the upper and under, where they touch one another, is hardly discernible.”—{Ibid.)
See some Reflections on this speculation of Locke’s in the Spectator, No. 519.
2 See Note F F.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
which have associated so closely the name of Leib¬
nitz with that of Newton, in the history of modern
science; of the inexhaustible treasures of his
erudition, both classical and scholastic; of his
vast and manifold contributions towards the
elucidation of German antiquities and of Roman
jurisprudence; or of those theological controver¬
sies, in which, while he combated with one hand
the enemies of revelation, he defended, with the
other, the orthodoxy of his own dogmas against
the profoundest and most learned divines of Eu¬
rope. Nor would I have digressed so far as to
allude here to these particulars, were it not for
the unparalleled example they display, of what
a vigorous and versatile genius, seconded by
habits of persevering industry, may accomplish,
within the short span of human life. Even the
relaxations with which he was accustomed to fill
up his moments of leisure, partook of the general
character of his more serious engagements. By
early and long habit, he had acquired a singular
facility in the composition of Latin verses; and
he seems to have delighted in loading his muse
with new fetters of his own contrivance, in ad¬
dition to those imposed by the laws of classical
prosody.1 The number, besides, of his literary
correspondents was immense ; including all that
was most illustrious in Europe: and the rich
materials everywhere scattered over his letters
are sufficient of themselves to show, that his
amusements consisted rather in a change of ob¬
jects, than in a suspension of his mental activi¬
ty. Yet while we admire these stupendous mo¬
numents of his intellectual energy, we must not
forget (if I may borrow the language of Gibbon)
that “ even the powers of Leibnitz were dissipat¬
ed by the multiplicity of his pursuits. He at¬
tempted more than he could finish; he designed
more than he could execute; his imagination
was too easily satisfied with a bold and rapid
glance on the subject which he was impatient to
leave; and he may be compared to those heroes
137
whose empire has been lost in the ambition of
universal conquest.” “
From some expressions which Leibnitz has
occasionally dropped, I think it probable, that
he himself became sensible, as he advanced in
life, that his time might have been more pro¬
fitably employed, had his studies been more con¬
fined in their aim. “ If the whole earth (he has
observed on one occasion) had continued to be
of one language and of one speech, human life
might be considered as extended beyond its pre¬
sent term, by the addition of all that part of it
which is devoted to the acquisition of dead and
foreign tongues. Many other branches of know¬
ledge, too, may, in this respect, be classed with
the languages; such as Positive Laws, Cere¬
monies, the Styles of Courts, and a great pro¬
portion of what is called critical erudition. The
utility of all these arises merely from opinion ;
nor is there to be found, in the innumerable
volumes that have been written to illustrate
them, a hundredth part, which contains any¬
thing subservient to the happiness or improve¬
ment of mankind.”
The most instructive lesson, however, to be
drawn from the history of Leibnitz, is the in¬
competency of the most splendid gifts of the un¬
derstanding, to advance essentially the interests
either of Metaphysical or of Ethical Science, un¬
less accompanied with that rare devotion to truth,
which maybe regarded, if not as the basis, at least
as one of the most indispensable elements, of mo¬
ral genius. The chief attraction to the study
of philosophy, in his mind, seems to have been
(what many French critics have considered as a
chief source of the charms of the imitative arts)
the pride of conquering difficulties: a feature of
his character which he had probably in his own
eye, when he remarked (not without some de¬
gree of conscious vanity), as a peculiarity in the
turn or cast of his intellect, that to him “ all
difficult things were easy, and all easy things
1 A remarkable instance of this is mentioned by himself in one of his letters. “ Annos natus tredecim una die trecentos
versus hexametros effudi, sine elisione omnes, quod hoc fieri facile posse forte affirmassem.”—Leib. Op. iom. V. p. 304.)
He also amused himself occasionally with writing verses in German and in French.
2 May I presume to remark farther, that the native powers of Leibnitz’s mind, astonishing and preternatural as they
certainly were, seem sometimes oppressed and overlaid under the weight of his still more astonishing erudition ? 1 he in¬
fluence of his scholastic reading is more peculiarly apparent in warping his judgment, and clouding his reason, on all ques¬
tions connected with Metaphysical Theology.
DISS. I. PART. II.
S
138
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
difficult.”1 Hence the disregard manifested in
his writings to the simple and obvious conclu¬
sions of experience and common sense; and the
perpetual effort to unriddle mysteries over which
an impenetrable veil is drawn. “ Scilicet su¬
blime et erectum ingenium, pulchritudinem ac
speciem excels® magnseque glorise vehementius
quam caute appetebat.” It is to be regretted,
that the sequel of this fine eulogy does not equal¬
ly apply to him. “ Mox mitigavit ratio et setas;
retimitque, quod est difficillimum, et in sapientia
modum.” 2 How happily does this last expression
characterise the temperate wisdom of Locke,
when contrasted with that towering, but impo¬
tent ambition, which, in the Theories of Opti¬
mism and of Pre-established Harmony, seemed
to realize the fabled revolt of the giants against
the sovereignty of the gods !
After all, a similarity may be traced between
these two great men in one intellectual weakness
common to both; a facility in the admission of
facts, stamped sufficiently (as we should now
think) by their own intrinsic evidence, with the
marks of incredibility. The observation has
been often made with respect to Locke; but it
would be difficult to find in Locke’s writings,
any thing so absurd as an account gravely trans¬
mitted by Leibnitz to the Abbe de St Pierre,
and by him communicated to the Royal Acade¬
my of Sciences at Paris, of a dog who spoke,*
No person liberally educated could, I believe,
be found at present in any Protestant country of
Christendom, capable of such credulity. By
what causes so extraordinary a revolution in the
minds of men has been effected, within the short
space of a hundred years, I must not here stop to
inquire. Much, I apprehend, must be ascribed
to our enlarged knowledge of nature, and more
particularly to those scientific voyages and tra¬
vels which have annihilated so many of the
prodigies which exercised the wonder and sub¬
dued the reason of our ancestors. But, in what¬
ever manner the revolution is to be explained,
there can be no doubt that this growing dispo¬
sition to weigh scrupulously the probability of
alleged facts against the faith due to the testi¬
monies brought to attest them, and, even in
some cases, against the apparent evidence of our
own senses, enters largely and essentially into
the composition of that philosophical spirit or
temper, which so strongly distinguishes the
eighteenth century from all those which preced¬
ed it.4 It is no small consolation to reflect,
that some important maxims of good sense have
been thus familiarised to the most ordinary un¬
derstandings, which, at so very recent a period,
failed in producing their due effect on two of
the most powerful minds in Europe.
On reviewing the foregoing paragraphs, I am
almost tempted to retract part of what I have
written, when I reflect on the benefits which the
world has derived even from the errors of Leib¬
nitz. It has been well and justly said, that
“ every desideratum is an imperfect discovery
to which it may be added, that every new pro¬
blem which is started, and still more every at¬
tempt, however abortive, towards its solution,
strikes out a new path, which must sooner or
later lead to the truth. If the problem be sol-
vible, a solution will in due time be obtained:
if insolvible, it will soon be abandoned as hope¬
less by general consent; and the legitimate field
of scientific research will become more fertile,
in proportion as a more accurate survey of its
boundaries adapts it better to the limited re¬
sources of the cultivators.
In this point of view, what individual in mo¬
dern times can be compared to Leibnitz ! To
how many of those researches, which still use¬
fully employ the talents and industry of the
learned, did he not point out and open the
way ! From how many more did he not warn
the wise to withhold their curiosity, by his bold
and fruitless attempts to burst the barriers of
the invisible world!
The best eloge of Leibnitz is furnished by the
literary history of the eighteenth century;—a
history which, whoever takes the pains to com¬
pare with his works, and with his epistolary
correspondence, will find reason to doubt
1 “ Sentio paucos esse mei characteris, et omnia facilia xnihi difficilia, omnia contra difficilia mihi facilia esse.”—Leib.
Op. Tom. YI. p. 302.
* Tacitus, Agrk.
3 See Note G G.
4 See Note H H.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
139
whether, at the singular era when he appeared,
he could have more accelerated the advancement
of knowledge by the concentration of his studies,
than he has actually done by the universality
of his aims; and whether he does not afford one
of the few instances to which the words of the
poet may literally be applied:
“ Si non errasset, fecerat ille minus.”'
SECTION III.
Of the Metaphysical Speculations of Newton and Clarke. Digression with respect to the System of
Spinoza.—Collins and Jonathan Edwards.—Anxiety of both to reconcile the Scheme of Necessity
with Man's Moral Agency.—Departure of some later Necessitarians from their views.8
The foregoing review of the philosophical
writings of Locke and of Leibnitz naturally
leads our attention, in the next place, to those of
our illustrious countrymen Newton and Clarke;
the former of whom has exhibited, in his Prin-
cipia and Optics, the most perfect exemplifica¬
tions which have yet appeared, of the cautious
logic recommended by Bacon and Locke ; while
the other, in defending against the assaults of
Leibnitz the metaphysical principles on which
the Newtonian philosophy proceeds, has been
led, at the same time, to vindicate the authority
of various other truths, of still higher impor¬
tance, and more general interest.
The chief subjects of dispute between Leibnitz
and Clarke, so far as the principles of the New¬
tonian philosophy are concerned, have been long
ago settled, to the entire satisfaction of the learn¬
ed world. The monads, and the plenum, and the
pre-established harmony of Leibnitz, already rank,
in the public estimation, with the vortices of
Descartes, and the plastic nature of Cudworth;
while the theory of gravitation prevails every¬
where over all opposition; and (as Mr Smith
remarks) “ has advanced to the acquisition of
the most universal empire that was ever esta¬
blished in philosophy.” On these points, there¬
fore, I have only to refer my readers to the col¬
lection published by Dr Clarke, in 1717, of
the controversial papers which passed between
him and Leibnitz during the two preceding
years;—a correspondence equally curious and
instructive; and which, it is to be lamented,
that the death of Leibnitz in 1716 prevented
from being longer continued. ^
Although Newton does not appear to have de-
1 See Note 11.
8 In conformity to the plan announced in the preface to this Dissertation, I confine myself to those authors whose opinions
have had a marked and general influence on the subsequent history of philosophy; passing over a multitude of other names
well worthy to be recorded in the annals of metaphysical science. Among these, I shall only mention the name of Boyle,
to whom the world is indebted, beside some very acute remarks and many fine illustrations of his own upon metaphysical
questions of the highest moment, for the philosophical arguments in defence of religion, which have added so much lustre
to the names of Derham and Bentley ; and, far above both, to that of Clarke.* The remarks and illustrations, which I here
refer to, are to be found in his Inquiry into the Vulgar Notion of Nature, and in his Essay, inquiring whether, and how, a Natu¬
ralist should consider Final Causes. Both of these tracts display powers which might have placed their author on a level with
Descartes and Locke, had not his taste and inclination determined him more strongly to other pursuits. I am inclined to
think, that neither of them is so well known as were to be wished. I do not even recollect to have seen it anywhere no¬
ticed, that some of the most striking and beautiful instances of design in the order of the material world, which occur in the
Sermons preached at Boyle’s Lecture, are borrowed from the works of the founder, -f-
Notwithstanding, however, these great merits, he has written too little on such abstract subjects to entitle him to a place
among English metaphysicians; nor has he, like Newton, started any leading thoughts which have since given a new direc¬
tion to the studies of metaphysical inquirers. From the slight specimens he has left, there is reason to conclude, that his
mind was still more happily turned than that of Newton, for the prosecution of that branch of science to which their con¬
temporary Locke was then beginning to invite the attention of the public.
8 From a letter of Leibnitz to M. Remond de Montmort, it appears that he considered Newton, and not Clarke, as his
* To the English reader it is unnecessary to observe, that I allude to the Sermons preached at the Lecture founded by
the Honourable Robert Boyle.
1" Those instances, more especially, which are drawn from the anatomical structure of animals, and the adaptation of their
perceptive organs to the habits of life for which they are destined.
140
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
voted much of his time to Metaphysical re¬
searches, yet the general spirit of his physical
investigations has had a great, though indirect,
influence on the metaphysical studies of his suc¬
cessors. It is justly and profoundly remarked
by Mr Hume, that “ while Newton seemed to
draw off the veil from some of the mysteries of
nature, he showed, at the same time, the imper¬
fections of the mechanical philosophy, and there¬
by restored her ultimate secrets to that obscurity
in which they ever did, and ever will remain.”
In this way, his discoveries have co-operated
powerfully with the reasonings of Locke in pro¬
ducing a general conviction of the inadequacy of
our faculties to unriddle those sublime enigmas
on which Descartes, Malebranche, and Leib¬
nitz, had so recently wasted their strength, and
which, in the ancient world, were regarded as
the only fit objects of philosophical curiosity.
It is chiefly too since the time of Newton, that
the ontology and pneumatology of the dark ages
have been abandoned for inquiries resting on the
solid basis of experience and analogy; and that
philosophers have felt themselves emboldened
by his astonishing discoveries concerning the
more distant parts of the material universe, to
argue from the known to the unknown parts of
the moral world. So completely has the pre¬
diction been verified which he himself hazarded,
in the form of a query, at the end of his Optics,
that “ if natural philosophy should continue to
be improved in its various branches, the bounds
of moral philosophy would be enlarged also.”
How far the peculiar cast of Newton’s genius
qualified him for prosecuting successfully the
study of Mind, he has not afforded us sufficient
data for judging; but such was the admiration
with which his transcendent powers as a Mathe¬
matician and Natural Philosopher were univer¬
sally regarded, that the slightest of his hints on
other subjects have been eagerly seized upon as
indisputable axioms, though sometimes with
little other evidence in their favour but the sup¬
posed sanction of his authority.1 The part of
his works, however, which chiefly led me to con¬
nect his name with that of Clarke, is a passage
in the Scholium annexed to his Principia,2 which
may be considered as the germ of the celebrated
real antagonist in this controversy. “ M. Clarke, ou plutot M. Newton, dont M. Clarke soutient les dogmes, est en dispute
avec moi sur la philosophic.”—(Leib. Op. Tom. V. p. 33.) From another letter to the same correspondent we learn, that
Leibnitz aimed at nothing less than the complete overthrow of the Newtonian philosophy; and that it was chiefly to his
grand principle of the sufficient reason that he trusted for the accomplishment of this object. “ J’ai reduit 1’dtat de notre
dispute a ce grand axiome, que rien n'exists ou n'arrive sans qu'il y ait une raison suffisante, pourquoi il en est plutot ainsi qu'au-
trement. S’il continue a me le nier, ou en sera sa sincerite ? S’il me 1’accorde, adieu le vuide, les atomes, et toute la philoso¬
phic de M. Newton."—(Ibid.) See also a letter from Leibnitz to M. des Maizeaux in the same volume of his works, p. 39.
1 "Witness Hartley’s Physiological Theory of the Mind, founded on a query in Newton’s Optics ; and a long list of theories
in medicine, grafted on a hint thrown out in the same query, in the form of a modest conjecture.
2 This Scholium, it is to be observed, first appeared at the end of the second edition of the Principia, printed at Cambridge
in 1713. The former edition, published at London in 1687, has no Scholium annexed to it. From a passage, however, in a
letter of Newton’s to Dr Bentley (dated 1692), it seems probable, that as far back, at least, as that period, he had thoughts
of attempting a proof a priori of the existence of God. After some new illustrations, drawn from his own discoveries, of the
common argument from final causes, he thus concludes : “ There is yet another argument for1, a Deity, which I take to be a
very strong one ; but, till the principles on which it is grounded are better received, I think it more advisable to let it
sleep.” (Four Letters from Sir I. Newton to Dr Bentley, p. 11. London, Dodsley, 1756.)
It appears from this passage, that Newton had no intention, like his predecessor Descartes, to supersede, by any new ar¬
gument of his own for the existence of God, the common one drawn from the consideration of final causes ; and, therefore,
nothing could be more uncandid than the following sarcasm pointed by Pope at the laudable attempts of his two country¬
men to add to the evidence of this conclusion, by deducing it from other principles:
“ Let others creep by timid steps and slow,
On plain experience lay foundations low.
By common sense to common knowledge bred,
And last to Nature’s cause thro’ Nature led:
We nobly take the high priori-road,
And reason downwards till we doubt of God.”
That Pope had Clarke in his eye when he wrote these lines, will not be doubted by those who recollect the various other
occasions in which he has stepped out of his way, to vent an impotent spleen against this excellent person.
“ Let Clarke live half his life the poor’s support,
But let him live the other half at court.”
And again:
“ Even in an ornament its place remark;
Nor in a hermitage set Dr Clarke
in which last couplet there is a manifest allusion to the bust of Clarke, placed in a hermitage by Queen Caroline, together
with those of Newton, Boyle, Locke, and Wollaston. See some fine verses on these busts in a poem called the Grotto, by
Matthew Green.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
141
argument a priori for the existence of God, which
is commonly, though, I apprehend, not justly,
regarded as the most important of all Clarke’s
contributions to Metaphysical Philosophy. I
shall quote the passage in Newton’s own words,
to the oracular conciseness of which no English
version can do j ustice.
“ iEternus est et infinitus, omnipotens et om-
nisciens; id est, durat ah aeterno in seternum, et
adest ah infinite in infinitum Non est
seternitas et infinitas, sed seternus et infinitus;
non est duratio et spatium, sed durat et adest.
Durat semper et adest ubique, et existendo sem¬
per et ubique durationem et spatium constituit.”1
Proceeding on these principles, Dr Clarke argued,
that, as immensity and eternity (which force
themselves irresistibly on our belief as necessary
existences, or, in other words, as existences of
which the annihilation is impossible) are not
substances, hut attributes, the immense and eter¬
nal Being, whose attributes they are, must exist
of necessity also. The existence of God, there¬
fore, according to Clarke, is a truth that follows
with demonstrative evidence from those concep¬
tions of space and time which are inseparable
from the human mind £< These (says Dr
Reid) are the speculations of men of superior
genius; hut whether they he as solid as they are
sublime, or whether they he the wanderings of
imagination in a region beyond the limits of the
human understanding, I am at a loss to deter¬
mine.” After this candid acknowledgment from
Dr Reid, I need not he ashamed to confess my
own doubts and difficulties on the same ques¬
tion.2
But although the argument, as stated by
Clarke, does not carry complete satisfaction to
my mind, I think it must he granted that there
is something peculiarly wonderful and over¬
whelming in those conceptions of immensity and
eternity, which it is not less impossible to banish
from our thoughts, than the consciousness of our
own existence. Nay, further, I think that these
conceptions are very intimately connected with
the fundamental principles of Natural Religion.
For when once we have established, from the
evidences of design everywhere manifested
around us, the existence of an intelligent and
powerful cause, we are unavoidably led to apply
to this cause our conceptions of immensity and
eternity, and to conceive Him as filling the infi¬
nite extent of both with his presence and with
his power. Hence we associate with the idea of
God those awful impressions which are naturally
produced by the idea of infinite space, and per¬
haps still more by the idea of endless duration.
Nor is this all. It is from the immensity of
space that the notion of infinity is originally de¬
rived ; and it is hence that we transfer the ex¬
pression, by a sort of metaphor, to other subjects.
When we speak, therefore, of infinite power, wis¬
dom, and goodness, our notions, if not wholly
borrowed from space, are at least greatly aided
by this analogy; so that the conceptions of Im¬
mensity and Eternity, if they do not of them¬
selves demonstrate the existence of God, yet ne¬
cessarily enter into the ideas we form of his na¬
ture and attributes.
To these various considerations it may be
added that the notion of necessary existence which
we derive from the contemplation of Space and
of Time, renders the same notion, when applied
to the Supreme Being, much more easy to be
apprehended than it would otherwise be.
It is not, therefore, surprising, that Newton
and Clarke should have fallen into that train of
thought which encouraged them to attempt a
demonstration of the being of God from our
conceptions of Immensity and Eternity; and
still less is it to be wondered at, that, in pursu¬
ing this lofty argument, they should have soar¬
ed into regions where they were lost in the
clouds.
I have said above, that Clarke’s demonstra¬
tion seems to have been suggested to him by a
passage in Newton’s Scholium. It is, however,
1 Thus translated by Dr Clarke: “ God is eternal and infinite, omnipotent and. omniscient; that is, he endures from
everlasting to everlasting, and is present from infinity to infinity. He is not eternity or infinity, but eternal and infinite.
He is not duration or space, but he endures and is present. He endures always, and is present everywhere, and by exist-
ing always and everywhere, constitutes duration and space.”—(See Clarke’s Fourth Reply to Leibnitz.')
2 An argument substantially the same with this for the existence of God, is hinted at very distinctly by Cudworth,
InteUect. System, Chap. Y. sect. 3. 4. Also by Dr Henry More, Enchir. Metaph. Cap. 8. sect. 8. See Mosheim s Transl. of
Cudworth, Tom. II. p. 356.
142
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
more than probable that he had himself struck
into a path very nearly approaching to it, at a
much earlier period of his life. The following
anecdote of his childhood, related, upon his own
authority, by his learned and authentic, though,
in many respects, weak and visionary biogra¬
pher (Whiston), exhibits an interesting example
of an anomalous development of the powers of
reflection and abstraction, at an age when, in
ordinary cases, the attention is wholly engross¬
ed with sensible objects. Such an inversion of
the common process of nature in unfolding our
different faculties, is perhaps one of the rarest
phenomena in the intellectual world; and,
wherever it occurs, may be regarded as strongly
symptomatic of something peculiar and decided
in the philosophical character of the individual.
“ One of his parents,” says Whiston, “ ask¬
ed him when he was very young, Whether God
could do every thing ? He answered, Yes ! He
was asked again, Whether God could tell a lie ?
He answered, No ! And he understood the ques¬
tion to suppose, that this was the only thing
that God could not do; nor durst he say, so
young was he then, that he thought there was
any thing else which God could not do; while
yet, well he remembered, that he had, even then,
a clear conviction in his own mind, that there was
one thing which God could not do ;—that he could
not annihilate that space which was in the room
where they were.”x
With this early and deep impression on his
mind, it is easy to conceive how Newton’s
Scholium should have encouraged him to resume
the musings of his boyish days, concerning the
necessary existence of space; and to trace, as
far as he could, its connection with the prin¬
ciples of Natural Theology. But the above anec¬
dote affords d proof how strongly his habits of
thought had long before predisposed him for the
prosecution of a metaphysical idea, precisely the
same with that on which this Scholium proceeds.
It would be superfluous to dwell longer on
the history of these speculations, which, what¬
ever value they may possess in the opinion of
persons accustomed to deep and abstract rea¬
soning, are certainly not well adapted to ordi¬
nary or to uncultivated understandings. This
consideration furnishes, of itself, no slight pre¬
sumption, that they were not intended to he the
media by which the hulk of mankind were to he
led to the knowledge of truths so essential to
human happiness; and, accordingly, it was on
this very ground, that Bishop Butler, and Dr
Francis Hutcheson, were induced to strike into
a different and more popular path for establish-
1 The question concerning the necessary existence of Space and of Time formed one of the principal subjects of discus¬
sion between Clarke and Leibnitz. According to the former, space and time are, both of them, infinite, immutable, and
indestructible. According to his antagonist, “ space is nothing but the order of things co-existing,” and “ time nothing
but the order of things successive !” The notion of real absolute Space, in particular, he pronounces to be a mere chimera
and superficial imagination ; classing it with those prejudices which Bacon called idola tribus—(See his 4th Paper, § 14.)
It has always appeared to me a thing quite inexplicable, that the great majority of philosophers, both in Germany and
in France, have, on the above question, decided in favour of Leibnitz. Even D’Alembert himself, who, on most metaphy¬
sical points, reasons so justly and so profoundly, has, in this instance, been carried along by the prevailing opinion (or, per¬
haps, it would be more correct to say, by the fashionable phraseology) among his countrymen. “ Y auroit-il un espace,
s’il n’y avoit point de corps, et une duree s’il n’y avoit rien ? Ces questions viennent, ce me semble, de ee qu’on suppose au
temps et a 1’espace plus de realite qu’ils n’en ont Les enfants, qui disent que le vuide n’est rien, ont raison parce
qu’ils s’en tiennent au simples notions du sens commun:* et les philosophes qui veulent realiser le vuide se perdent
dans leurs speculations: le vuide a ete' enfante par les abstractions, et voila 1’abus d’une methode si utile a bien des e'gards.
S'il n'y avoit point de corps et de succession, Vespace ct le temps seroient possibles, mais Us n’existeroient pas."—(Melanges, &e.
T. V. § xvi.) Bailly, a writer by no means partial to D’Alembert, quotes, with entire approbation, the foregoing observa¬
tions ; subjoining to them, in the following terms, his own judgment on the merits of this branch of the controversy be¬
tween Clarke and Leibnitz. “ La notion du temps et de Pespace, est un des points sur lesquels Leibnitz a -combattu cen¬
tre Clarke ; mais il nous semble que 1’Anglois n’a rien oppose de satisfaisant aux raisons de Leibnitz.”—(Eloge de Leibnitz.)
As for the point here in dispute, I must own, that it does not seem to me a fit subject for argument; inasmuch as I can¬
not even form a conception of the proposition contended for by Leibnitz. The light in which the question struck Clarke
in his childhood, is the same in which I am still disposed to view it; or rather, I should say, is the light in which I must
ever view it, while the frame of my understanding continues unaltered. Of what data is human reason possessed, from
which it is entitled to argue in opposition to truths, the contrary of w'hich it is impossible not only to prove, but to express
m terms comprehensible by our faculties ?
For some remarks on the scholastic controversies concerning space and time, see the First Part of this Dissertatwn, Note I.
See also Locke’s Essay, Book ii. Chap. 13. §§ 16, 17, 18.
* I quote the sequel of this passage on the authority of Bailly (see his Eloge on Leibnitz), for it is not to be found in the
copy of the Melanges before me printed at Amsterdam in 1767-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
143
ing the fundamental principles of religion and
morality. Both of these writers appear to have
communicated, in very early youth, their doubts
and objections to Dr Clarke; and to have had,
even then, a glimpse of those inquiries by which
they were afterwards to give so new and so for¬
tunate a direction to the ethical studies of their
countrymen. It is sufficient here to remark
this circumstance as an important step in the
progress of Moral Philosophy. The farther il¬
lustration of it properly belongs to another part
of this discourse.
The chief glory of Clarke, as a metaphysical
author, is due to the boldness and ability with
which he placed himself in the breach against
the Necessitarians and Fatalists of his times.
With a mind far inferior to that of Locke, in
comprehensiveness, in originality, and in ferti¬
lity of invention, he was nevertheless the more
wary and skilful disputant of the two, possess¬
ing, in a singular degree, that reach of thought
in grasping remote consequences, which effec¬
tually saved him from those rash concessions
into which Locke was frequently betrayed by
the greater warmth of his temperament, and vi¬
vacity of his fancy. This logical foresight (the
natural result of his habits of mathematical
study) rendered him peculiarly fit to contend
with adversaries, eager and qualified to take ad¬
vantage of every vulnerable point in his doc¬
trines; but it gave, at the same time, to his
style a tameness, and monotony, and want of
colouring, which never appear in the easy and
spirited, though often unfinished and unequal,
sketches of Locke. Voltaire has somewhere
said of him, that he was a mere reasoning ma¬
chine f un moulin a raisonnement), and the ex¬
pression (though doubtless much too unquali¬
fied) possesses a merit, in point of j ust discri¬
mination, of which Voltaire was probably not
fully aware.1
I have already taken notice of Clarke’s de¬
fence of moral liberty in opposition to Leibnitz ;
but soon after this controversy was brought to a
1 In the extent of his learning, the correctness of his taste, and the depth of his scientific acquirements, Clarke possess¬
ed indisputable advantages over JLocke; with which advantages he combined another not less important, the systematical
steadiness with which his easy fortune and unbroken leisure enabled him to pursue his favourite speculations through the
whole course of his life. _
On the subject of Free-will, Locke is more indistinct, undecided, and inconsistent, than might have been expected worn
his powerful mind, when directed to so important a question. This was probably owing to his own strong feelings in fa¬
vour of man’s moral liberty, struggling with the deep impression left on his philosophical creed by the writings of
Hobbes, and with his deference for the talents of his own intimate friend, Anthony Collins.* That Locke conceived him¬
self to be an advocate fov free-will, appears indisputably from many expressions in his Chapter on Power; and yet, in that
very chapter, he has made various concessions to his adversaries, in which he seems to yield all that was contended foi by
Hobbes and Collins : And, accordingly, he is ranked, with some appearance of truth, by Priestley, with, those who, while
they opposed verbally the scheme of necessity, have adopted it substantially, without being aware of their mistake.
In one of Locke’s letters to Mr Molyneux, he has stated, in the strongest possible terms, his conviction of man’s free
agency ; resting this conviction entirely on our indisputable consciousness of the fact. This declaration of Locke I consi¬
der as well worthy of attention in the argument about Free Will; for, although in questions of pure speculation, the au¬
thority of great names is entitled to no weight, excepting in so far as it is supported by solid reasonings, the case is other¬
wise with facts relating to the phenomena of the human mind. The patient attention with which Mr Locke had studied
these very nice phenomena during the course of a long life, gives to the results of his metaphysical experience a value of
the same sort, but much greater in degree, with that which we attach to a delicate experiment in chemistry, when vouched
by a Black or a Davy. The ultimate appeal, after all, must be made by every person to his own consciousness ; but
when we have the experience of Locke on the one hand, and that of Priestley and Belsham on the other, the contrast is
surely sufficient to induce every cautious inquirer to re-examine his feelings before he allows himself to listen o le
statements of the latter in preference to that of the former. .
For the information of some of my readers, it may be proper to mention that it has of late become fashionable among a
certain class of metaphysicians, boldly to assert, that the evidence of consciousness is decidedly in lavourot the scheme
qj necessitv
But to return to Mr Locke. The only consideration on this subject which seems to have staggered him, was the difficul¬
ty of reconciling this opinion with the prescience of God. As to this theological difficulty, I have nothing to say at present.
The only question which I consider as of any consequence, is the matter of fact; and, on this point, nothing can be more
explicit and satisfactory than the words of Locke. In examining these, the attentive reader will be satisfied, that Locke s
declaration is not (as Priestley asserts) in favour of the Liberty of Spontaneity, but in favour of the Liberty of Indifference ;
for as to the former, there seems to be no difficulty in reconciling it with the prescience of God. ' I own (says Mr Loc e)
ireeiy to you the weakness
once in God our Maker,
dom in man consistent with omnipotence anu ...    0 ,. , . - „ . .
I most firmly assent to ; and therefore I have long since given off the consideration of that question ; resolving all into
this short conclusion, that, if it he possible for God to make a free agent, then man is free, though I see not the way of it. 
See Note K K.
144
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
conclusion by the death of his antagonist, he
had to resume the same argument, in reply to
his countryman, Anthony Collins; who, follow¬
ing the footsteps of Hobbes, with logical talents
not inferior to those of his master, and with a
weight of personal character in his favour, to
which his master had no pretensions,1 gave to
the cause which he so warmly espoused, a de¬
gree of credit among sober and serious inquir¬
ers, which it had never before possessed in Eng¬
land. I have reserved, therefore, for this place,
the few general reflections which I have to offer
on this endless subject of controversy. In stat¬
ing these, I shall be the less anxious to con¬
dense my thoughts, as I do not mean to return
to the discussion in the sequel of this historical
sketch. Indeed, I do not know of anything
that has been advanced by later writers, in
support of the scheme of necessity, of which
the germ is not to be found in the inquiry of
Collins.
In order to enter completely into the motives
which induced Clarke to take so zealous and so
prominent a part in the dispute about Free
Will, it is necessary to look back to the sys¬
tem of Spinoza; an author, with whose pecu¬
liar opinions I have hitherto avoided to dis¬
tract my readers’ attention. At the time when
he wrote, he does not appear to have made
many proselytes; the extravagant and alarming
consequences in which his system terminated,
serving with most persons as a sufficient anti¬
dote against it. Clarke was probably the first
who perceived distinctly the logical accuracy of
his reasoning; and that, if the principles were
admitted, it was impossible to resist the conclu¬
sions deduced from them.2 It seems to have
been the object both of Leibnitz and of Collins,
to obviate the force of this indirect argument
against the scheme of necessity, by attempting
to reconcile it with the moral agency of man;
a task which, I think, it must be allowed, was
much less ably and plausibly executed by the
former than by the latter. Convinced, on the
other hand, that Spinoza had reasoned from his
premises much more rigorously than either Col¬
lins or Leibnitz, Clarke bent the whole force of
his mind to demonstrate that these premises
were false; and, at the same time, to put in¬
cautious reasoners on their guard against the
seducing sophistry of his antagonists, by show¬
ing, that there was no medium between admit¬
ting the free-agency of man, and of acquiescing
in all the monstrous absurdities which the creed
of Spinoza involves.
Spinoza,5 it may be proper to mention, was an
Amsterdam Jew of Portuguese extraction, who
(with a view probably to gain a more favourable
reception to his philosophical dogmas) withdrew
himself from the sect in which he had been edu¬
cated, and afterwards appears to have lived
chiefly in the society of Christians;4 without,
however, making any public profession of the
Christian faith, or even submitting to the cere¬
mony of baptism. In his philosophical creed,
he at first embraced the system of Descartes,
1 In speaking disrespectfully of the personal character of Hobbes, I allude to the base servility of his political principles,
and to the suppleness with which he adapted them to the opposite interests of the three successive governments under which
his literary life was spent. To his private virtues the most honourable testimony has been borne, both by his friends and
by his enemies.
2 Dr lleid’s opinion on this point coincides exactly with that of Clarke. See his Essays on the Active Powers of Man,
(p. 289, 4to. Edition), where he pronounces the system of Spinoza to be “ the genuine, and the most tenable system of ne¬
cessity.”
3 Born 1632, died 1677* It is observed by Bayle, that “ although Spinoza was the first who reduced Atheism to a sys¬
tem, and formed it into a body of doctrine, connected according to the method of geometricians, yet, in other respects, his
opinion is not new, the substance of it being the same with that of several other philosophers, both ancient and modern,
European and Eastern.”—See his Diet. art. Spinoza, and the authorities in Note S.
It is asserted by a late German writer, that “ Spinoza has been little heard of in England, and not at all in France, and
that he has been zealously defended and attacked by Germans alone.” The same writer informs us, that “ the philosophy
of Eeibmtz has been little studied in France, and not at all in England.”—(Lectures on the History of Literature, by Fred.
Schleged. English Transl. published at Edin. 1818. Yol. II. p. 243.)
Is it possible that an author who pronounces so dogmatically upon the philosophy of England, should never have heard
the name of Dr Clarke ? s ’
4 .Ti?f Synagogue were so indignant at his apostacy, that they pronounced against him their highest sentence of excom-
mumcation called Schammata. The form of the sentence may be found in the Treatise of Selden, De Jure Natures et Gentium,
Eib. IV. c. 7- It is a document of some curiosity, and will scarcely suffer by a comparison with the Popish form of ex¬
communication recorded by Sterne. For some farther particulars with respect to Spinoza see Note LL.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
145
and began his literary career with a work en¬
titled, Renati Descartes Principiorum Philoso¬
phic Pars Prima et Secunda, More Geometrico
Demonstrate 1663. It was, however, in little
else than his physical principles that he agreed
with Descartes; for no two philosophers ever
differed more widely in their metaphysical and
theological tenets. Fontenelle characterises his
system as a “ Cartesianism pushed to extra¬
vagance” (une Cartesianisme outreeJ ; an expres¬
sion which, although far from conveying a just
or adequate idea of the whole spirit of his
doctrines, applies very happily to his boldness
and pertinacity in following out his avowed
principles to the most paradoxical consequences
which he conceived them to involve. The re¬
putation of his writings, accordingly, has fallen
entirely (excepting perhaps in Germany and in
Holland) with the philosophy on which they
were grafted; although some of the most ob¬
noxious opinions contained in them are still,
from time to time, obtruded on the world, un¬
der the disguise of a new form, and of a phra¬
seology less revolting to modern taste.1
In no part of Spinoza’s works has he avowed
himself an atheist; but it will not be disputed,
by those who comprehend the di-ift of his rea¬
sonings, that, in point of practical tendency,
Atheism and Spinozism are one and the same.
In this respect, we may apply to Spinoza (and
I may add to Vanini also) what Cicero has said
of Epicurus, Verbis reliquit Deos, re sustulit;—
a remark which coincides exactly with an ex¬
pression of Newton’s in the Scholium at the end
of the Principia: “ Deus sine dominio, provi-
dentia, et causis finalibus, nihil aliud est quam
Fatum et Natura.”*
Among other doctrines of natural and reveal¬
ed religion, which Spinoza affected to embrace,
was that of the Divine Omnipresence; a doc¬
trine which, combined with the Plenum of Des¬
cartes, led him, by a short and plausible process
of reasoning, to the revival of the old theory
which represented God as the sold of the world;
or rather to that identification of God and of
the material universe, which I take to be still
more agreeable to the idea of Spinoza.5 I am
particularly anxious to direct the attention of
my readers to this part of his system, as I con¬
ceive it to be at present very generally misrepre-
1 “ On vient de proposer a 1’Academic de Berlin, pour sujet de concours: “ Quels sont les points de contact du Car-
te'sianisme et du systeme de Spinoza ?”—(Recherches Philosophiquea, par M. de Ronald, 1818.)
2 One of the most elaborate and acute refutations of Spinozism which has yet appeared is to be found in Bayle’s Dic¬
tionary, where it is described as “ the most monstrous scheme imaginable, and the most diametrically opposite to the
clearest notions of the mind.”—The same author affirms, that “ it has been fully overthrown even by the weakest of its
adversaries.”—“ It does not, indeed, appear possible” (as Mr Maclaurin has observed) “ to invent another system equally
absurd; amounting (as it does in fact) to this proposition, that there is but one substance in the universe, endowed with
infinite attributes (particularly infinite extension and cogitation), which produces all other things necessarily as its own
modifications, and which alone is, in all events, both physical and moral, at once cause and effect, agent and patient—View
of Newton's Discoveries, Book I. Chap 4.
3 Spinoza supposes that there are in God two eternal properties, thought and extension ; and as he held, with Descartes,
that extension is the essence of matter, he must necessarily have conceived materiality to be an essential attribute of God.
“ Per Corpus intelligo modum, qui Dei essentiam quatenus tit res extensa consideratur, certo et determinate modo expn-
mit.”—(Ethicaonline GeomctricoDemonstruta. Pars2. Defin 1. See also Ethic. Pars l.Prop. 14.) With respect to the other
attributes of God, he held, that God is the cause of all things ; but that he acts, not from choice, but from necessity; and of
consequence, that he is the involuntary author of all the good and evil, virtue and vice, which are exhibited in human life.
“ lies nullo alio modo, neque alio ordine a Deo produci potuerunt, quam productse sunt.”—Ibid. Pars 1. Prop. 33.) In one
of his letters to Mr Oldenburgh (I.etter 21), he acknowledges, that his ideas of God and of nature were very different
from those entertained by modern Christians; adding by way of explanation, “ Deum rerum omnium causamimmanentem,
non vero transeuntem statuo;”—an expression to which I can annex no other meaning but this, that God is inseparably
and essentially united with his works, and that they form together but one being. _ ,
The diversity of opinions entertained concerning the nature of Spinozism has been chiefly owing to this, that some have
formed their notions of it from the books which Spinoza published during his life, and others from his posthumous re¬
mains. It is in the last alone (particularly in his Ethics') that his system is to be seen completely unveiled and undisguis¬
ed. In the former, and also in the letters addressed to his friends, he occasionally accommodates himself, with a veiy tem¬
porising spirit, to what he considered as the prejudices of the world. In proof of this, see his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus,
and his epistolary correspondence, ,• above all, his letter to a young friend who had apostatised^ fiom 1 rotestantism
to the Catholic Church. The letter is addressed, 1,4 Nobilissimo Juveni, Alberto Burgh."—(Spin. Op. I. II. p. C95.)
1 he edition of Spinoza’s works to which mv references are made, is the complete and very accurate one published at
Jena in 1802, by Henr. Eberh. Gottlob Paulus, who styles himself Doctor and Professor of 1 heology.
I his learned divine is at no pains to conceal his admiration of the character as well as talents of his authoi; nor does he
seem to have much to object to the system of Spinozism, as explained in his posthumous work upon Ethics ; a work which,
the editor admits, contains the only genuine exposition of Spinoza’s creed. “ Sedes systematis quod sibi condidit in ethica
est.”—(Prccf. Iterutce Editionis, p. ix.) In what manner all this was reconciled in his theological lectures with the doctnnes
either of natural or of revealed religion, it is not. very easy to imagine. Perhaps he only affords a new example of what
DISS. I. PART II. T
146
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
sented, or, at least, very generally misunder¬
stood ; a thing not to be wondered at, consider¬
ing the total neglect into which his works have
long fallen. It is only in this way I can ac¬
count for the frequent use which has most un¬
fairly been made of the term Spinozism to stig¬
matise and discredit some doctrines, or rather
some modes of speaking, which have been sanc¬
tioned, not only by the wisest of the ancients,
hut by the highest names in English philosophy
and literature; and which, whether right or
wrong, will he found, on a careful examina¬
tion and comparison, not to have the most dis¬
tant affinity to the absurd creed with which
they have been confounded. I am afraid that
Pope, in the following lines of the Dunciad,
suffered himself so far to he misled by the ma¬
lignity of Warburton, as to aim a secret stab
at Newton and Clarke, by associating their figu¬
rative, and not altogether unexceptionable lan¬
guage, concerning space (when they called it
the sensorium of the Deity), with the opinion of
Spinoza, as I have just explained it.1
“ Thrust some Mechanic Cause into His place,
Or bind in matter, or diffuse in space”
Dr Clarke long ago remarked, that “ Believing too much and too little have commonly the luck to meet together, like two
things moving contrary ways in the same circle.”—( Third Letter to Dodxcell.)
A late German writer, who, in his own opinions, has certainly no leaning towards Spinozism, has yet spoken of the mo¬
ral tendency of Spinoza’s writings, in terms of the warmest praise. “ The morality of Spinoza (says M. Fred. Schlegel)
is not indeed that of the Bible, for he himself was no Christian, but it is still a pure and noble morality, resembling that of
the ancient Stoics, perhaps possessing considerable advantages over that system. That which makes him strong when op-
posed to adversaries who do not understand or feel his depth, or who unconsciously have fallen into errors not much diffe¬
rent from his, is not merely the scientific clearness and decision of his intellect, but in a much higher degree the openhearted¬
ness, strong feeling, and conviction, with which all that he says seems to gush from his heart and soul.”—(Led. o/T’red.
Schlegel, Eng. Transl. Vol. H.p. 244.) The rest of the passage, which contains a sort of apology for the system of Spinoza,
is still more curious.
Although it is with the metaphysical tenets of Spinoza alone that we are immediately concerned at present, it is not al¬
together foreign to my purpose to observe, that he had also speculated much about the principles of government; and that
the coincidence of his opinions with those of Hobbes, on this last subject, was not less remarkable than the similarity of
their views on the most important questions of metaphysics and ethics. Unconnected as these different branches of know¬
ledge may at first appear, the theories of Spinoza and o’f Hobbes concerning all of them, formed parts of one and the same
system; the whole terminating ultimately in the maxim with which, according to Plutarch, Anaxarchus consoled Alex-
ander after the murder of Clytus: ri«v ™ a-ro rov K^urovroi hxuiov inui. Even in discussing the question about Liber-
ty and Necessity, Hobbes cannot help glancing at this political corollary. “ The power of God alone is a sufhcient justifica¬
tion of any action he doth.”.... “ That which he doth is made just by his doing it.”.... “ Power irresistible justifies
all actions really and properly, in whomsoever it be found.”—(Of Liberty and Necessity, addressed to the Lord Marquis of
Newcastle.) .Spinoza has expressed himself exactly to the same purpose.—(See his Tractatus Politicus, Cap. 2. §§ 3, 4.) So
steadily, indeed, is this practical application of their abstract principles kept in view by both these writers, that not one
•generous feeling is ever suffered to escape the pen of either in favour of the rights, the liberties, or the improvement of
their species.
The close affinity between those abstract thories which tend to degrade human nature, and that accommodating morality
which prepares the minds of men for receiving passively the yoke of slavery, although too little attended to by the writers
of literary history, has not been overlooked by those deeper politicians who are disposed (as has been alleged of the first of
the Caesars) to consider their fellow-creatures “ but as rubbish in the way of their ambition, or tools to be employed in re¬
moving it.” This practical tendency of the Epicurean philosophy is remarked by one of the wisest of the Homan states¬
men ; and we learn from the same high authority, how fashionable this philosophy was in the higher circles of his country,
men, at that disastrous period which immediately preceded the ruin of the Republic. “ Nunquam audiviin Epicuri schola,
Lycurgum, Solonem, Miltiadem, Themistoclem, Epaminondam, nominari; qui in ore sunt caeterorum omnium philoso-
phorum.”—(De Fin. Lib. ii. c. 21.) _ “ Nec tamen Epicuri licet oblivisci, si cupiam ; cujus imaginem non modo in tabulis
nostri familiares, sed etiam in poculis, et annulis habent.”—(Ibid. lib- v. c. 1.)
The prevalence of Hobbism at the court of Charles II. (a fact acknowledged by Clarendon himself) is but one of the
many instances which might be quoted from modern times in confirmation of these remarks.
The practical tendency of such doctrines as would pave the way to universal scepticism, by holding up to ridicule the
extravagancies and inconsistencies of the learned, is precisely similar. We are told by Tacitus {Annul. Lib. 14), that
Nero was accustomed, at the close of a banquet, to summon a party of philosophers, that he might amuse himself with lis¬
tening to the endless diversity and discordancy of their respective systems: nor were there wanting philosophers at
Rome, the same historian adds, who were flattered to be thus exhibited as a spectacle at the table of the Emperor. What a
deep and instructive moral is conveyed by this anecdote ! and what a contrast does it afford to the sentiment of one of
Nero’s successors, who was himself a philosopher in the best sense of the word, and whose reign furnishes some of the
fairest pages, in the annals of the human race ! “ I search for truth (says Marcus Antoninus), by which no person has
ever been injured.” rijn axfiltiuv, bp' Us bous snbvroit ‘i&Xufln.
1 Warburton, indeed, alwayspro/cssi?.? great respect for Newton ; but of his hostility to Clarke it is unnecessary to produce
any other proof than his note on the following line of the Dunciad:
“ Where Tindal dictates, and Silenus snores.”—B. iv. 1. 492. S
May I venture to add, that the noted line of the Essay on Man,
“ And showed a Newton as we show an ape,”
could not possibly have been written by any person impressed with a due veneration for this glory of his species ?
DISSERTATION FIRST.
147
How little was it suspected by the poet, when
this sarcasm escaped him, that the charge of
Spinozism and Pantheism was afterwards to he
brought against himself, for the suhlimest pas¬
sage to he found in his writings !
“ All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
* * * * »
Lives through all Life, extends through all extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unspent.”1
Bayle was, I think, the writer who first led the
way to this misapplication of the term Spinozism ;
and his object in doing so was plainly to destroy
the effect of the most refined and philosophical
conceptions of the Deity which were ever formed
by the unassisted power of human reason.
“ Estne Dei sedes nisi terra, et pontus, et aer,
Et ccelum, et virtus ? Superos quid quaerimus ultra ?
Jupiter est quodcumque vides, quocumque moveris.”
“ Is there a place that God would choose to love
Beyond this earth, the seas, yon Heaven above,
And virtuous minds, the noblest throne for Jove;
Why seek we farther then ? Behold around,
How all thou seest does with the God abound,
Jove is alike to all, and always to be found.”
Howe’s Lucan.
Who but Bayle, could have thought of extract¬
ing anything like Spinozism from such verses as
these !
On a subject so infinitely disproportioned to
our faculties, it is vain to expect language which
will bear a logical and captious examination.
Even the Sacred Writers themselves are forced
to adapt their phraseology to the comprehension
of those to whom it is addressed, and frequently
borrow the figurative diction of poetry to convey
ideas which must be interpreted, not according
to the letter, but the spirit of the passage. It is
thus that thunder is called the voice of God;
the wind, His breath ; and the tempest, the blast
of His nostrils. Not attending to this circum¬
stance, or rather not choosing to direct to it the
attention of his readers, Spinoza has laid hold
of the well known expression of St Paul, that
“ in God we live, and move, and have our being,”
as a proof that the ideas of the apostle, concern¬
ing the Divine Nature, were pretty much the
same with his own ; a consideration which, if
duly weighed, might have protected some of the
passages above quoted from the uncharitable cri¬
ticisms to which they have frequently been ex¬
posed. *
To return, however, to Collins, from whose
controversy with Clarke I was insensibly led
aside into this short digression about Spinoza ;
1 Ibis passage, as Warton has remarked, bears a very striking analogy to a noble one in the old Orphic verses quoted in
the treatise x.crp.%, ascribed to Aristotle; and it is not a little curious, that the same ideas occur in some specimens of
Hindoo poetry, translated by Sir W. Jones; more particularly in the Hymn to Narrayna, or the Spirit of God, taken, as.
he informs us, from the writings of their ancient authors :
Omniscient Spirit, whose all-ruling power
Bids from each sense bright emanations beam; •
Glows in the rainbow, sparkles in the stream,
&c. &c.
8 Mr Gibbon, in commenting upon the celebrated lines of Virgil,
“ Spiritus intus alit, totamque .infusa per artus,
“ Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet,”
observes, that “ the mind which is infused into the different parts of matter, and which mingles itself with the mighty
mass, scarcely retains any property of a spiritual substance, and bears too near an affinity to the principles which the im¬
pious Spinoza revived rather than invented.” He adds, however, that “ the poverty of human language, and the obscu¬
rity of human ideas, make it difficult to speak worthily of the gkeat first cause ; and that our most religious poets
(particularly Pope and Thomson), in striving to express the presence and energy of the Deity in every part of the universe,
deviate unwarily into images which require a favourable construction. But these writers (he candidly remarks) deserve that
tavour, by the sublime manner in which they celebrate the Great Father of the universe, and by those effusions of love
and gratitude which are inconsistent with the materialist’s system.”—{Misc. Works, Vol. II. pp. 509, 510.)
May I be permitted here to remark, that it is not only difficult but impossible to speak of the omnipresence and omnipo-
tence °f God, without deviating into such images ?
With the doctrine of the Anima Mundi, some philosophers, both ancient and modern, have connected another theory,
according to which the souls of men are portions of the Supreme Being, with whom they are re-united at death, and in
whom they are finally absorbed and lost. To assist the imagination in conceiving this theory, death has been compared to
the breaking of a phial of water, immersed in the ocean. " It is needless to say, that this incomprehensible jargon has no
necessary^ connection with the doctrine which represents God as the soul of the world, and that it would have been
loudly disclaimed, not only by Pope and Thomson, but by Epictetus, Antoninus, and all the wisest and soberest of the
otoical school. Whatever objections, therefore, may be made to this doctrine, let not its supposed consequences be charged
upon any but those who may expressly avow them. On such a subject, as Gibbon has well remarked, “ we should be slow
t°S'JST*rt’-and Sti11 slower t0 condemn.”—{Ibid. p. 510.)
fur William Jones mentions a very curious modification of this theory of absorption, as one of the doctrines of the Vedanta
?c The Vedanta school represent Elysian happiness as a total absorption, though not such as to destroy consciousness,
111 e Divine Essence.”—f Dissertation on the Gods of Greece, Italy, and India.)
148
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
I have already said, that it seems to have been
the aim of Collins to vindicate the doctrine of
Necessity from the reproach brought on it by its
supposed alliance with Spinozism ; and to retort
upon the partizans of free-will the charges of
favouring atheism and immorality. In proof of
this I have only to quote the account given by
the author himself, of the plan of his work:
“ Too much care cannot be taken to prevent
being misunderstood and prejudged, in handling
questions of such nice speculation as those of
Liberty and Necessity > and, therefore, though I
might in justice expect to be read before any
judgment be passed on me, I think it proper to
premise the following observations :
<c 1. First, Though I deny liberty in a certain
meaning of that word, yet I contend for liberty,
as it signifies a power in man to do as he wills or
pleases.
“ 2. Secondly, When I affirm necessity, I con¬
tend only for moral necessity ; meaning thereby,
that man, who is an intelligent and sensible
being, is determined by his reason and his senses;
and I deny man to be subject to such necessity
as is in clocks, watches, and such other beings,
which, for want of sensation and intelligence,
are subject to an absolute, physical, or mecha¬
nical necessity.
“ 3. Thirdly, I have undertaken to show, that
the notions I advance are so far from being in¬
consistent with, that they are the sole founda¬
tions of morality and laws, and of rewards and
punishments in society; and that the notions I
explode are subversive of them.”1
In the prosecution of his argument on this
question, Collins endeavours to show, that man
is a necessary agent, 1. From our experience.
(By experience he means our own consciousness
that we are necessary agents.) 2. From the
impossibility of liberty.2 3. From the conside¬
ration of the Divine prescience. 4. From the
nature and use of rewards and punishments;
and 5. From the nature of morality.5
In this view of the subject, and, indeed, in the
very selection of his premises, it is remarkable
how completely Collins has anticipated Dr Jona¬
than Edwards, the most celebrated and indis¬
putably the ablest champion of the scheme of
Necessity who has since appeared. The coinci¬
dence is so perfect, that the outline given by the
former, of the plan of his work, might have
served with equal propriety as a preface to that
of the latter.
From the above summary, and still more from
the whole tenor of the Philosophical Inquiry, it is
evident, that Collins (one of the most obnoxious
writers of his day to divines of all denomina¬
tions) was not less solicitous than his successor
Edwards to reconcile his metaphysical notions
with man’s accountableness and moral agency.
The remarks, accordingly, of Clarke upon Col¬
lins’s work, are equally applicable to that of Ed¬
wards. It is to be regretted that they seem
never to have fallen into the hands of this very
acute and honest reasoner. As for Collins, it is
a remarkable circumstance, that he attempted
no reply to this tract of Clarke’s, although he
lived twelve years after its publication. The
reasonings contained in it, together with those
on the same subject in his correspondence with
Leibnitz, and in his Demonstration of the Being
and Attributes of God, form, in my humble opi¬
nion, the most important as well as powerful
of all his metaphysical arguments.4 The ad¬
versaries wdth whom he had to contend were,
both of them, eminently distinguished by inge¬
nuity and subtlety, and he seems to have put
forth to the utmost his logical strength, in con¬
tending with such antagonists. “ The liber¬
ty or moral agency of man (says his friend
Bishop Hoadly) was a darling point to him. He
excelled always, and showed a superiority to all,
whenever it came into private discourse or pub¬
lic debate. But he never more excelled than
when he was pressed with the strength Leibnitz
was master of; which made him exert all his
1 A Philosophical Inquiry concerning Human Liberty, 3d edit. Lond. 1735
2 See Note MM.
3 See Note N N.
4 Voltaire, who, in all probability, never read either Clarke or Collins, has said that the former replied to the latter only
by Theological reasonings : “ Clarke n'a repondu a Collins qu'en Theologicn."—(Quest sur 1'Encyclopedic, Art. LilertL) Nothing
can be more remote from the truth. The argument of Clarke is wholly Mctavhysical; whereas, his antagonist, in various
instances, has attempted to wrest to his own purposes the words of Scripture.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
149
talents to set it once again in a clear light, to
guard it against the evil of metaphysical obscu¬
rities, and to give the finishing stroke to a sub¬
ject which must ever be the foundation of mo¬
rality in man, and is the ground of the account-
ableness of intelligent creatures for all their
actions.”1
It is needless to say, that neither Leibnitz nor
Collins admitted the fairness of the inferences
which Clarke conceived to follow from the
scheme of necessity : But almost every page in
the subsequent history of this controversy may
be regarded as an additional illustration of the
soundness of Clarke’s reasonings, and of the sa¬
gacity with which he anticipated the fatal er¬
rors likely to issue from the system which he
opposed.
“ Thus (says a very learned disciple of Leib¬
nitz, who made his first appearance as an author
about thirty years after the death of his mas¬
ter)2—thus, the same chain embraces the phy¬
sical and moral worlds, hinds the past to the
present, the present to the future, the future to
eternity.”
“ That wisdom which has ordained the ex¬
istence of this chain, has doubtless willed that
of every link of which it is composed. A Ca¬
ligula is one of those links, and this link is
of iron : A Marcus Aurelius is another link,
and this link is of gold. Both are necessary
parts of one whole, which could not hut exist.
Shall God then he angry at the sight of the iron
link ? What absurdity ! God esteems this
link at its proper value: He sees it in its cause,
and he approves this cause, for it is good. God
beholds moral monsters as he beholds physical
monsters. Happy is the link of gold ! Still more
happy if he know that he is only fortunate.5 He
has attained the highest degree of moral perfec¬
tion, and is nevertheless without pride, knowing
that what he is, is the necessary result of the
place which he must occupy in the chain.”
“ The gospel is the allegorical exposition of
this system; the simile of the potter is its sum¬
mary.”4 (Bonnet, T. VIII. pp. 237, 238.)
In what essential respect does this system
differ from that of Spinoza? Is it not even
more dangerous in its practical tendency, in
consequence of the high strain of mystical devo¬
tion by which it is exalted ?A
This objection, however, does not apply to
the quotations which follow. They exhibit,
without any colourings of imagination or of en¬
thusiasm, the scheme of necessity pushed to the
remotest and most alarming conclusions which
it appeared to Clarke to involve; and as they
express the serious and avowed creed of two of
our contemporaries (both of them men ol dis¬
tinguished talents), may he regarded as a proof,
that the zeal displayed by Clarke against the
1 Preface to the folio ed. of Clarke’s Works The vital importance which Clarke attached to this question, has given
to the concluding paragraphs of his remarks on Collins, an earnestness and a f0™
in his writings S Thete paragraphs cannot he too
who, in our own times, have come forward as the apostles ot .Dr 1 nest-e} g &
Necessity.”
^ Charles Bonnet, born 1720, died 1/93. _ _ coit mi’il n’pst ^ll, Tieutcux?* The
3 The words in the original are, “ Heureux le chainon d,or ! plus t least ^ epigrammatic turn, which
double meaning of heureux, if it render the expression less logically pieci , g
cannot be preserved in our language.
i imo^thVanous forms which religious entf—^
the specious disguise ot a deep humility, aims at exalting the ? / Si/james Mackintosh, in speaking of
belong to Human Nature. “ Nothing is more usual for lervent e war ' iv on the meanness and worthlessness of
some theories current among the Hindoos), than to dwell so long a ^ insensibly from comparative to absolute lan-
created things, and on the all-sufhciency of the Supreme BeinB, tl t - ;v,ilate everything else.” (See Philosophy of
guage, and in the eagerness of its zeal to magnify the Deity seems to annihilate everytmng ene. ^ 1
the Human Mind, Vol. II. p. 529, 2d ed.) - 4, , v.v -Ronnet and many other devout men, in fa-
This excellent observation may serve to account for the zeal disp y y , remind us) but what we have re-
vour of the Scheme of Necessity. “ We Have not receded from God the gift of
ceived.”—But the question here is simply a matter of fact, whe ble to advance for the nega-
Free Will; and the only argument, it must be remembered winch they have y ^ argument which annihl_
tive proposition, is, that this gift was impomWo, even 101 p ts him as weii as all his creatures, to the control of
(Tractat. Polit. Cap. II. § C )
150
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
metaphysical principles which led ultimately to
such results, was not so unfounded as some
worthy and able inquirers have supposed.
May I he permitted to observe farther on
this head, that, as one of these writers spent his
life in the pay of a German prince, and as the
other was the favourite philosopher of another
sovereign, still more illustrious, the sentiments
which they were so anxious to proclaim to the
world, may he presumed to have been not very
offensive, in their judgments, to the ears of their
protectors ?
“ All that is must he (says the Baron de
Grimm, addressing himself to the Duke of Saxe-
Gotha)—all that is must be, even because it
is; this is the only sound philosophy; as long
as we do not know this universe a priori (as
they say in the schools), all is necessity.1
Liberty is a word without meaning, as you
shall see in the letter of M. Diderot.”
The following passage is extracted from Di¬
derot’s letter here referred to :
“ I am now, my dear friend, going to quit
the tone of a preacher, to take, if I can, that of
a philosopher. Examine it narrowly, and you
will see that the word Liberty is a word, devoid
of meaning;2 that there are not, and that there
cannot he free beings; that we are only what
accords with the general order, with our organi¬
zation, our education, and the chain of events.
These dispose of us invincibly. We can no
more conceive a being acting without a motive,
than we can one of the arms of a balance acting
without a weight. The motive is always exte¬
rior and foreign, fastened upon us by some
cause distinct from ourselves. What deceives
us, is the prodigious variety of our actions,
joined to the habit which we catch at our birth,
of confounding the voluntary and the free. We
have been so often praised and blamed, and
have so often praised and blamed others, that
we contract an inveterate prejudice of believing
that we and they will and act freely. But if there
is no liberty, there is no action that merits either
praise or blame; neither vice nor Aurtue, no¬
thing that ought either to be rewarded or punish¬
ed. What then is the distinction among men ?
The doing of good and the doing of ill! The
doer of ill is one who must be destroyed, not
punished. The doer of good is lucky, not vir¬
tuous. But though neither the doer of good or
of ill be free, man is nevertheless a being to
be modified; it is for this reason the doer of ill
should be destroyed upon the scaffold. From
thence the good effects of education, of plea¬
sure, of grief, of grandeur, of poverty, &c.;
from thence a philosophy full of pity, strongly
attached to the good, nor more angry with the
wicked, than with the whirlwind which fills
one’s eyes with dust. Strictly speaking, there
is but one sort of causes, that is, physical
causes. There is but one sort of necessity,
which is the same for all beings. This is what
reconciles me to humankind: it is for this rea¬
son I exhorted you to philanthropy. Adopt
these principles if you think them good, or show
me that they are bad. If you adopt them,
they will reconcile you too with others and
with yourself: you will neither be pleased nor
angry with yourself for being what you are.
Reproach others for nothing, and repent of
nothing; this is the first step to wisdom. Be¬
sides this, all is prejudice and false philosophy.”3
The prevalence of the principles here so earnest¬
ly inculcated among the higher orders in France,
at a period somewhat later in the history of the
monarchy, may be judged of from the occasion¬
al allusions to them in the dramatic pieces then
chiefly in request at Paris. In the Manage de
Figaro (the popularity of which was quite un-
The logical inference ought undoubtedly to have been, “ as long as we know nothing of the universe a priori, we
are not entitled to say of anything that it either is, or is not, necessary.”
trovcrsy ? ^ thiS remark of I)iderot apply with infinitely greater force to the word necessity, as employed in this con-
. . Poorly to the same purpose, we are told by Mr Belsham, that “ t\ve fallacious feeling of remorse is superseded by the doc¬
trine oi necessity..E/m. p. 284.) And again, “ Remorse supposes free will. It is of little or no use in moral disci-
P1™3- ln a degree, it is even pernicious.”—f/Sid. p. 400.)
Ivor does the_opinion of Hartley seem to have been dilferent. “ The doctrine of Necessity has a tendency to abate all
edS with themg”inSt men’ SmCe aU they do a»ainst us is the appointment of God, it is rebellion against him to be offend-
For the originals of the quotations from Grimm and Diderot, see Note P P.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
151
exampled), the hero of the piece, an intriguing
valet in the service of a Spanish courtier, is in¬
troduced as thus moralising, in a soliloquy on
his own free-agency and personal identity. Such
an exhibition upon the English stage would have
been universally censured as out of character and
extravagant, or rather, would have been com¬
pletely unintelligible to the crowds by which our
theatres are filled.
“ Oh bisarre suite d’evenemens! Comment
cela m’a-t-il arrive ? Pourquoi ces choses et non
pas d’autres ? Qui les a fixees sur ma tete ?
Force de parcourir la route ou je suis entre sans
le savoir, comme j’en sortirai sans le vouloir, je
1’ai jonchee d’autant de fleurs que ma gaiete me
la permit: encore je dis ma gaiete, sans savoir
si elle est a moi plus que le reste, ni meme qui
est ce moi dont je m’dccupe.”
That this soliloquy, though put into the mouth
of Figaro, was meant as a picture of the philo¬
sophical jargon at that time affected by courtiers
and men of the world, will not be doubted by
those who have attended to the importance of
the rolles commonly assigned to confidential valets
in French comedies, and to the habits of fami¬
liarity in which they are always represented as
living with their masters. The sentiments which
they are made to utter may, accordingly, be
safely considered as but an echo of the lessons
which they have learned from their superiors.1
My anxiety to state, without any interruption,
my remarks on some of the most important
questions to which the attention of the public
was called by the speculations of Locke, of
Leibnitz, of Newton, and of Clarke, has led me,
in various instances, to depart from the strict
order of Chronology. It is time for me, how¬
ever, now to pause, and, before I proceed far¬
ther, to supply a few chasms in the foregoing
sketch.
SECTION IV.
Of some Authors who have contributed, by their Critical or Historical Writings, to diffuse a Taste for
Metaphysical Studies.—Bayle—Fontenelle—
Among the many eminent persons who were
either driven from France, or who went into
voluntary exile, in consequence of the revoca¬
tion of the edict of Nantz, the most illustrious by
far was Bayle;2 who, fixing his residence in
Holland, and availing himself, to the utmost ex¬
tent, of the religious toleration then enjoyed in
that country, diffused from thence, over Europe,
■Addison. Metaphysical Works of Berkeley.
a greater mass of accurate and curious informa¬
tion, accompanied by a more splendid display of
acute and lively criticism, than had ever before
come from the pen of a single individual.3
Happy ! if he had been able to restrain within
due bounds his passion for sceptical and licenti¬
ous discussion, and to respect the feelings of the
wise and good, on topics connected with religion
S1 A reflection of Voltaire’s on the writings of Spinoza may, I think, be here quoted without impropriety. ^ A ous etes
tres confus, Baruc Spinoza, mais etes vous aussi dangereux qu’on le dit ? Je soutiens que non, et ma raison c est que vous
etes confus, que vous avez dcrit en mauvais Latin, et qu’il n’y a pas dix personnes en Europe qui vous lisent dun bout a
1’autre. Quel est 1’auteur dangereux? C’est celui qui est lu par les Oisifs de la Cour, et par les Dames. (Quest, sur
VEncyclop. Art. Dieu.) „ ,
Had Voltaire kept this last remark steadily in view in his own writings, how many of those pages would he have cancel¬
led which he has given to the world !
3 Born in 1647, died 1705. • , ^ .
3 The erudition of Bayle is greatly undervalued by his antagonist Le Clerc. _ Toutes les lumieres phdosopmques e
M. Bayle consistoient en quelque peu de Peripatetisme, qu’il avoit appris des Jesuites de 1 oulouse, et un peu de Car ^sia-
nisme, qu’il n’avoit jamais approfondi.”—(Bib. Choisie, Tom. XII. p. 106.) , , , , „ . „
In the judgment of Gibbon, “ Bayle’s learning was chiefly confined to the Latin authors ; and he had more of a certain
multifarious reading than of real erudition. Le Clerc, his great antagonist, was as supenor to him in that respect as interior
in every other.”-—(Uxiraifs llaisonms de tncs Lectures, p. 62. ,
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
*52
and morality. But, in the peculiar circum¬
stances in which he was educated, combined
with the seducing profession of a literary ad¬
venturer, to which his hard fortune condemned
him, such a spirit of moderation was rather to
he wished than expected.
When Bayle first appeared as an author, the
opinions of the learned still continued to be di¬
vided between Aristotle and Descartes. A con¬
siderable number leaned, in secret, to the meta¬
physical creed of Spinoza and of Hobbes 5 while
the clergy of the Roman Catholic and the Pro¬
testant churches, instead of uniting their efforts
in defence of those truths which they professed
in common, wasted their strength against each
other in fruitless disputes and recriminations.
In the midst of these controversies, Bayle,
keeping aloof as far as possible from all the
parties, indulged his sceptical and ironical hu¬
mour ht the common expence of the various
combatants. Unattached himself to any sys¬
tem, or, to speak more correctly, unfixed in his
opinions on the most fundamental questions, he
did not prosecute any particular study with
sufficient perseverance to add materially to the
stock of useful knowledge. The influence, how¬
ever, of his writings on the taste and views of
speculative men of all persuasions, has been so
great, as to mark him out as one of the most
conspicuous characters of his age; and I shall
accordingly devote to him a larger space than
may, at first sight, appear due to an author who
has distinguished himself only by the extent of
his historical researches, and by the sagacity and
subtlety of his critical disquisitions.
We are informed by Bayle himself, that his
favourite authors, during his youth, were Plu¬
tarch and Montaigne; and from them., it has
been alleged by some of his biographers, he im¬
bibed his first lessons of scepticism. In what
manner the first of these writers should have
contributed to inspire him with this temper of
mind, is not very obvious. There is certainly
no heathen philosopher or historian whose mo¬
rality is more pure or elevated; and none who
has drawn the line between superstition and re¬
ligion with a nicer hand.1 Pope has with per¬
fect truth said of him, that “ he abounds more
in strokes of good nature than any other au¬
thor;” to which it may be added, that he abounds
also in touches of simple and exquisite 'pathos^
seldom to be met with among the greatest paint¬
ers of antiquity. In all these respects what a
contrast does Bayle present to Plutarch !
Considering the share which Bayle ascribes
to Montaigne’s Essays in forming his literary
taste, it is cui’ious, that there is no separate
article allotted to Montaigne in the Historical
and Critical Dictionary. What is still more
curious, there is more than one reference to
this article, as if it actually existed; without
any explanation of the omission (as far as I recol¬
lect) from the author or the publisher of the work.
Some very interesting particulars, however, con¬
cerning Montaigne’s life and writings, are scat¬
tered over the Dictionary, in the notices of other
persons, with whom his name appeared to Bayle
to have a sufficient connection to furnish an
apology for a short episode.
It does not seem to me a very improbable
conjecture, that Bayle had intended, and per¬
haps attempted, to write an account of Mon¬
taigne; and that he had experienced greater
difficulties than he was aware of, in the execu¬
tion of his design. Notwithstanding their com¬
mon tendency to scepticism, no two characters
were ever more strongly discriminated in their
most prominent features; the doubts of the one
resulting from the singular coldness of his mo¬
ral temperament, combined with a subtlety and
over-refinement in his habits of thinking, which
rendered his ingenuity, acuteness, and erudition,
more than a match for his good sense and sa¬
gacity;—the indecision of the other partaking
1 See, in particular, his account of the effects produced on the character of Pericles by the sublime lessons of Anaxagoras.
Plutarch, it is true, had said before Bayle, that atheism is less pernicious than superstition; but how wide the difference
between this paradox, as explained and qualified by the Greek philosopher, and as interpreted and applied in the Reflections
on the Comet! Mr Addison himself seems to give his sanction to Plutarch’s maxim in one of his papers on Cheerfulness.
“ An eminent Pagan writer has made a discourse to show, that the atheist, who denies a God, does him less dishonour than
the man who owns his being, but, at the same time, believes him to be cruel, hard to please, and terrible to human nature.
For my own part, says he, I would rather it should be said of me, that there was never any such man as Plutarch, than
that Plutarch was ill-natured, capricious, and inhuman.”—{Spectator, No. 494.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
153
more of the shrewd and soldier-like etourderie of
Henry IV. when he exclaimed, after hearing
two lawyers plead on opposite sides of the same
question, <c Ventre St Gris f il me senible que tons
les deux out raison.”
Independently of Bayle’s constitutional bias
towards scepticism, some other motives, it is
probable, conspired to induce him, in the com¬
position of his Dictionary, to copy the spirit and
tone of the old Academic school. On these col¬
lateral motives a strong and not very favourable
light is thrown by his own candid avowal in
one of his letters. “ In truth (says he to his
correspondent Minutoli), it ought not to be
thought strange, that so many persons should
have inclined to Pyrrhonism; for of all things
in the world it is the most convenient. You
may dispute with impunity against every body
you meet, without any dread of that vexatious
argument which is addressed ad hominem. You
are never afraid of a retort; for as you announce
no opinion of your own, you are always ready
to abandon those of others to the attacks of so¬
phists of every description. In a word, you
may dispute and jest on all subjects without in¬
curring any danger from the lex taUonis.”1 It is
amusing to think, that the Pyrrhonism which
Bayle himself has here so ingeniously accounted
for, from motives of conveniency and of literary
cowardice, should have been mistaken by so
many of his disciples for the sportive triumph
of a superior intellect over the weaknesses and
errors of human reason.2
The profession of Bayle, which made it an
object to him to turn to account even the sweep¬
ings of his study, affords an additional explana¬
tion of the indigested mass of heterogeneous and
inconsistent materials contained in his Dictio¬
nary. Had he adopted any one system exclusive¬
ly, his work would have shrunk in its dimen¬
sions into a comparatively narrow compass.5
When these different considerations are ma¬
turely weighed, the omission by Bayle of the
article Montaigne will not be much regretted by
the admirers of the Essays. It is extremely
doubtful if Bayle would have been able to seize
the true spirit of Montaigne’s character; and,
at any rate, it is not in the delineation of charac¬
ter that Bayle excels. His critical acumen,
indeed, in the examination of opinions and
En vente, il ne faut pas trouver Strange que tant des gens aient donne' dans le Pyrrhonisme. Car c’est la chose du
monde le plus commode. Youspouvez impunement disputer contre tous venans, et sans craindreces argumens ad hominem,
qui font quelquefois tant de peine. Vous ne craignez point la retorsion; puisque ne soutenant rien, vous abandonnez de
bon cceur a tous les sophismes et a tous les raisonnemens de la terre quelque opinion quece soit. Vous n’etes jamais oblige
den vemr a la defensive. En un mot, vous contestez et vous daubez sur toutes choses tout votre saoul, sans craindrela
peine du talion.”—(Oeuv. Div. de Bayle, IV. p. 537.)
I The estimate formed by Warburton of Bayle’s character, both intellectual and moral, is candid and temperate. “ A
writ er whose strength and clearness of reasoning can only be equalled by the gaiety, easiness, and delicacy, of his wit; who,
pervading human nature with a glance, struck into the province of paradox, as an exercise for the restless vigour of his
mind: who, with a soul superior to the sharpest attacks of fortune, and a heart practised to the best philosophy, had not
yet enough ot real greatness, to overcome that last foible of superior geniuses, the temptation of honour, which the acade¬
mical exercise of wit is supposed to bring to its professors. (Divine Legation.)
there be anything objectionable in this panegyric, it is the unqualified praise bestowed on Bayle’s wit, which,
• se ,on} . k copiousness, in poignancy, or in that grave argumentative irony, by which it is still more characte-
ns ically marked, is commonly as deficient in gaiety and delicacy as that of Warburton himself.
“ tl 1 ni^Z seems Perfectly to have entered into the peculiar temper of his adversary Bayle, when he said of him, that
le only way to make Bayle write usefully, would be to attack him when he advances propositions that are sound and
ue, and to abstain from attacking him, when he says anything false or pernicious.”
e vrai moyen de faire ecrire utilement M. Bayle, ce seroit de I’attaquer, lorsqu’il ecrit des bonnes choses et vraies,
r ce seroit le moyen de le piquer pour continuer. Au lieu qu’il ne faudroit point I’attaquer quand il en dit de mauvaises,
aij tYa f engagera a en dire d’autres aussi mauvaises pour soutenir les premieres.”—(Tom. VI. p. 273.)
Eeibnitz elsewhere says of him: Ubi bene, nemo melius (Tom. I. p. 257.)
tb h The inequality of Bayle’s voluminous works (says Gibbon) is explained by his alternately writing for himself, for
o ® 00kseller, and for posterity; and if a severe critic would reduce him to a single folio, that relic, like the books of the
M r- d become st.iU more valuable.”—(Gibbon’s Mem. p. 50.)
... r rfbbon observes in another place, that, “ if Bayle wrote his Dictionary to empty the various collections he had made,
noth' ailju Parf'cu^ar design, he could not have chosen a better plan. It permitted him everything, and obliged him to
1 ]in£>‘ ®y double freedom of a Dictionary and of Notes, he could pitch on what articles he pleased, and say what
®ased on those articles.”—(Extraits Raisonnes de mes Lectures, p. 64.)
2 Bow could such a genius as Bayle,” says the same author, “ employ three or four pages, and a great apparatus of
to examine whether Achilles was fed with marrow only ; whether it was the marrow of lions and stags, or that
of hons only ?” Sut—flbid. p. 66.) b
pp 49 Vo°nfiand interestblg passage with respect to Bayle’s history and character, see Gibbon’s Memoirs, &c. Vol. I.
DISS. I. PART. II. U
154
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
arguments, is unrivalled; but bis portraits of
persons commonly exhibit only the coarser linea¬
ments which obtrude themselves on the senses
of ordinary observers; and seldom, if ever,
evince that discriminating and divining eye, or
that sympathetic penetration into the retire¬
ments of the heart, which lend to every touch
of a master artist, the never-to-be-mistaken ex¬
pression of truth and nature.
It furnishes some apology for the unsettled
state of Bayle’s opinions, that his habits of
thinking were formed prior to the discoveries of
the Newtonian School. Neither the vortices of
Descartes, nor the monads and pre-established
harmony of Leibnitz, were well calculated to
inspire him with confidence in the powers of the
human understanding; nor does he seem to have
been led, either by taste or by genius, to the study
of those exacter sciences in which Kepler, Galileo,
and others, had, in the preceding age, made such
splendid advances. In Geometry he never pro¬
ceeded beyond a few of the elementary proposi¬
tions ; and it is even said (although I apprehend
with little probability) that his farther progress
was stopped by some defect in his intellectual
powers, which disqualified him for the successful
prosecution of the study.
It is not unworthy of notice, that Bayle was
the son of a Calvinist minister, and was destin¬
ed by his father for his own profession; that
during the course of his education in a college
of Jesuits he was converted to the Roman Ca¬
tholic persuasion j1 and that finally he went to
Geneva, where, if he was not recalled to the
Protestant faith, he was at least most thorough¬
ly reclaimed from the errors of Popery.2
To these early fluctuations in his religious
creed, may be ascribed his singularly accurate
knowledge of controversial theology, and of the
lives and tenets of the most distinguished divines
of both churches;—a knowledge much more
minute than a person of his talents could well be
supposed to accumulate from the mere impulse
of literary curiosity. In these respects he ex¬
hibits a striking resemblance to the historian of
the Decline and Fall of the Boman Empire: Nor
is the parallel between them less exact in the
similar effects produced on their minds, by the
polemical cast of their juvenile studies. Their
common propensity to indulge in indecency is
not so easily explicable. In neither does it seem
to have originated in the habits of a dissolute
youth; but in the wantonness of a polluted and'
distempered imagination. Bayle, it is well
known, led the life of an anchoret ;3 and the li¬
centiousness of his pen is, on that very account,
the more reprehensible. But, everything con¬
sidered, the grossness of Gibbon is certainly the
more unaccountable, and perhaps the more un¬
pardonable of the two.4
1 “ For the benefit of education, the Protestants were tempted to risk their children in the Catholic Universities; and
in the 22d year of his age young Bayle was seduced by the arts and arguments of the Jesuits of Thoulouse. He remained
about seventeen months in their hands a voluntary captive.”—(Gibbon’s Misc. Works, Yol. I. p. 49.)
2 According to Gibbon, “ the piety of Bayle was offended by the excessive worship of creatures ; and the study of physics
convinced him of the impossibility of transubstantiation, which is abundantly refuted by the testimony of our senses.”
(Ibid. A2.) t ,
The same author, speaking of his own conversion from Popery, observes (after allowing to his Preceptor Mr Pavillard
“ a handsome share” of the honour), “ that it was principally effected by his private reflectionsadding the following
very curjous acknowledgment: “ I still remember my solitary transport at the discovery of a philosophical argument against
the doctrine of Transubstantiation ; that the text of Scripture, which seems to inculcate the real presence, is attested only
by a single sense—our sight; while the real presence itself is disproved by three of our senses—the sight, the touch, and
the taste.”—(Ibid. p. 58.) That this '•'■philosophical argument” should have had any influence on the mind of Gibbon, even
at the early period of life when he made “ the discovery,” would appear highly improbable, if the fact were not attested
by himself; but as for Bayle, whose logical acumen was of a far harder and keener edge, it seems quite impossible to con¬
ceive, “ that the study of physics” was at all necessary to open his eyes to the absurdity of the real presence; or that he
would not at once have perceived the futility of appealing to our senses or to our reason, against an article of faith which
professedly disclaims the authority of both.
3 “ Chaste dans ses discours, grave, dans ses discours, sobre dans ses alimens, austere dans son genre de vie.”—(Portrait
de Bayle par M. Saumn, dans son Sermon sur 1’accord de la Religion avec la Politique.)
* In justice to Bayle, and also to Gibbon, it should be remembered, that over the most offensive passages in their works
they have drawn the veil of the learned languages. It was reserved for the translators of the Historical and Critical Dic¬
tionary to tear this veil asunder, and to expose the indelicacy of their author to every curious eye. It is impossible to ob¬
serve the patient industry and fidelity with which they have executed this part of their task without feelings oi indignation
and disgust. For such an outrage on taste and decorum, their tedious and feeble attacks on the Manicheism of Bayle oner
but a poor compensation. Of all Bayle’s suspected heresies, it was perhaps that which stood the least in need of a serious
refutation; and, if the case had been otherwise, their incompetency to contend with such an adversary would have only
injured the cause which they professed to defend:
DISSERTATION FIRST.
155
On the mischievous tendency of Bayle’s work
to unsettle the principles of superficial readers,
and, what is worse, to damp the moral enthusi¬
asm of youth, hy shaking their faith in the re¬
ality of virtue, it would be superfluous to enlarge.
The fact is indisputable, and is admitted even by
his most partial admirers. It may not be equally
useless to remark the benefits which (whether
foreseen or not by the author, is of little conse¬
quence) have actually resulted to literature from
his indefatigable labours. One thing will, I ap¬
prehend, be very generally granted in his favour,
that, if he has taught men to suspend their judg¬
ment, he has taught them also to think and to
reason for themselves; a lesson which appeared
to a late philosophical divine of so great impor¬
tance, as to suggest to him a doubt, whether it
would not be better for authors to state nothing
but premises, and to leave to their readers the
task of forming their own conclusions.1 Nor
can Bayle be candidly accused of often discover¬
ing a partiality for any particular sect of philo¬
sophers. He opposes Spinoza and Hobbes with
the same spirit and ability, and apparently with
the same good faith, with which he controverts
the doctrines of Anaxagoras and of Plato.
Even the ancient sceptics, for whose mode of
philosophising he might be supposed to have felt
some degree of tenderness, are treated with as
little ceremony as the most extravagant of the
dogmatists. He has been often accused of a
leaning to the most absurd of all systems, that
of the Manicheans; and it must be owned, that
there is none in defence of which he has so often
and so ably2 exerted his talents; but it is easy
to perceive, that, when he does so, it is not from
any serious faith which he attaches to it (per¬
haps the contrary supposition would be nearer
the truth), but from the peculiarly ample field
which it opened for the display of his contro¬
versial subtlety, and of his inexhaustible stores
of miscellaneous information.5 In one passage
he has pronounced with a tone of decision which
he seldom assumes, that “ it is absurd, indefen¬
sible, and inconsistent with the regularity and
order of the universe; that the arguments in
favour of it are liable to be retorted; and that,
granting it to be true, it would afford no solu¬
tion of the difficulties in question.”4 The ap¬
parent zeal with which, on various occasions, he
has taken up its defence, may, I think, be reason¬
ably accounted for, by the favourable opportu¬
nity it afforded him of measuring his logical
powers with those of Leibnitz.5
To these considerations it may be added, that,
in consequence of the progress of the sciences
since Bayle’s time, the -unlimited scepticism
commonly, and perhaps justly imputed to him,
is much less likely to mislead than it was a cen¬
tury ago; while the value of his researches, and
of his critical reflections, becomes every day
more conspicuous, in proportion as more en¬
larged views of nature, and of human affairs,
enable us to combine together that mass of
rich but indigested materials, in the compilation
of which his own opinions and principles seem
to have been totally lost. Neither comprehen¬
sion, indeed, nor generalisation, nor metaphysical
! 1 See the preface to Bishop Butler’s Sermons.
2 Particularly in the article entitled Paulicians.
3 One of the earliest as well as th^ ablest of those who undertook a reply to the passages in Bayle which seem to favour
Manicheism, candidly acquits him of any serious design to,recommend that system to his readers. “ En repondant aux
objections Manicheennes, je ne pretends faire aucun tort a M. Bayle : que je ne soupconne nullement de les favoriser. Je
suis persuade qu’il n’a pris la liberte philosophique de dire, en bien des rencontres, le pour et le centre, sans rien dissimu-
jer, que pour donner de 1’exercice a ceux qui entendent les matieres qu’il traite, et non pour favoriser ceux dont il explique
les raisons.”—(Parrhasiana, ou Penstcs Diverses, p. 302, par M. Le Cmite. Amsterdam, 1699.)
4 See the illustration upon the Sceptics at the end of the Dictionary.
f supposition may be thought inconsistent with the well known fact, that the Theodicee of Leibnitz was not pub¬
lished till after the death of Bayle. But it must be recollected, that Bayle had previously entered the lists with Leibnitz
in the article Rorarius, where he had urged some very acute and forcible objections against the scheme of pre-established har¬
mony ; a scheme which leads so naturally and obviously to that of optimism, that it was not difficult to foresee what ground
Leibnitz was likely to take in defending his principles. The great aim of Bayle seems to have been to provoke Leibnitz
to unfold the whole of his system and of its necessary consequences ; well knowing what advantages in the management of
such a controversy would be on the side of the assailant.
The tribute paid by Leibnitz to the memory of his illustrious antagonist deserves to be quoted. “ Sperandum est,
fiahwTO luminibus illis nunc circumdari, quod terns negatum est: cum credibile sit, bonam voluntatem ei nequaquam
“ Candidus insuetum miratur limen Olympi,
Sub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera Daphnis.”
156
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
depth,1 are to he numbered among the charac-
teristical attributes of his genius. Far less does
he ever anticipate, by the moral lights of the
soul, the slow and hesitating decisions of the un¬
derstanding; or touch with a privileged hand
those mysterious chords to which all the social
sympathies of our frame are responsive. Had
his ambition, however, been more exalted, or his
philanthropy more warm and diffusive, he would
probably have attempted less than he actually
accomplished ; nor would he have stooped to en¬
joy that undisputed pre-eminence which the
public voice has now unanimously assigned him,
among those inestimable though often ill requit¬
ed authors, whom Johnson has called “ the
pioneers of literature.”
The suspense of judgment which Bayle’s
Dictionary inspires with respect to facts, is, per¬
haps, still more useful than that which it en¬
courages in matters of abstract reasoning. Fon-
tenelle certainly went much too far, when he
said of history, that, it was only a collection of
Fables Convenues ;—a most significant and happy
phrase, to which I am sorry that I cannot do
justice in an English version. But though Fon-
tenelle pushed his maxim to an extreme, there
is yet a great deal of important truth in the re¬
mark ; and of this I believe every person’s con¬
viction will he stronger, in proportion as his
knowledge of men and of hooks is profound and
extensive.2
Of the various lessons of historical scepticism
to he learned from Bayle, there is none more
practically valuable (more especially in such
revolutionary times as we have witnessed) than
that which relates to the biographical portraits
of distinguished persons, when drawn by their
theological and political opponents. In illustra¬
tion of this, I have only to refer to the copious
and instructive extracts which he has produced
from Roman Catholic writers, concerning the
lives, and still more concerning the deaths, of
Luther, Knox,3 Buchanan, and various other
leaders or partizans of the Reformation. It
would be impossible for any well-informed Pro¬
testant to read these extracts, without indulging
a smile at their incredible absurdity, if every
feeling of levity were not lost in a sentiment of
deep indignation at the effrontery and falsehood
of their authors. In stating this observation, I
have taken my examples from Roman Catholic
libellers, without any illiberal prejudices against
the members of that church. The injustice done
by Protestants to some of the conscientious de¬
fenders of the old faith has been, in all probabi¬
lity, equally great; but this we have no oppor¬
tunity of ascertaining here, by the same direct
evidence to which we can fortunately appeal, in
vindication of the three characters mentioned
above. With the history of two of them every
person in this country is fully acquainted; and
I have purposely selected them in preference to
others, as their names alone are sufficient to cover
with disgrace the memory of their calumniators.4
A few years before the death of Bayle, Fon-
tenelle began to attract the notice of Europe.5
I class them together on account of the mighty
influence of both on the literary taste of their
contemporaries; an influence in neither case
founded on any claims to original genius, or to
important improvements; but on the attractions
which they possessed in common, though in
very different ways, as popular winters; and on
the easy and agreeable access which their works
opened to the opinions and speculations of the
1 I speak of that metaphysical depth which is the exclusive result of what Newton called patient thinking. In logical
quickness, and metaphysical subtlety, Bayle has never been surpassed.
2 Montesquieu has expressed himself on this subject, in nearly as strong terms as Fontenelle. “ Les Histoires sent
des fails faux composes sur des faits vrais, ou bien al’occasion des vrais.”—(Pensees Diverges de Montesquieu, Tom. V.
de ses (Euvres. Ed. de Paris, 1818.)
3 See Note QQ,.
4 Of all Bayle’s works, “ the most useful and the least sceptical,” according to Gibbon, “ is his Commentaire Philoso*
phique on these words of the Gospel, Compel them to come in.”
The great object of this commentary is to establish the general principles of Toleration, and to remonstrate with the
members of Protestant churches on the inconsistency of their refusing to those they esteem heretics, the same indulgence
which they claim for themselves in Catholic countries. The work is diffuse and rambling, like all Bayle’s compositions;
but the matter is excellent, and well deserves the praise which Gibbon has bestowed on it.
5 Bayle died in 1706. Eontenelle’s first work in prose (the Dialogues of the Dead) was published as early as 1683, and
was quickly followed by his Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
157
learned. Nor do I depart so far as might at
first be supposed, from the order of chronology,
in passing from the one to the other. For though
Fontenelle survived almost to our own times
(having very nearly completed a century at the
time of his death), the interval between his
birth and that of Bayle was only ten years, and
he had actually published several volumes, both
in prose and verse, before the Dictionary of Bayle
appeared.
But my chief .reason for connecting Fonte¬
nelle rather with the contemporaries of his youth
than with those of his old age is, that, during
the latter part of his life, he was left far behind
in his philosophical creed (for he never renoun¬
ced his faith as a Cartesian)1 by those very
pupils to whose minds he had given so power¬
ful an impulse, and whom he had so long taught
by his example, the art (till then unknown in
modern times) of ble'nding the truths of the
severer sciences with the lights and graces of
eloquence. Even this eloquence, once so much
admired, had ceased, before his death, to be re¬
garded as a model, and was fast giving way to
the purer and more manly taste in writing, re¬
commended by the precepts, and exemplified in
the historical compositions of Voltaire.
Fontenelle was a nephew of the great Cor¬
neille ; but his genius was, in many respects,
very strongly contrasted with that of the author
of the Cid. Of this he has himself enabled us
to judge by the feeble and unsuccessful attempts
in dramatic poetry, by which he was first known
to the world. In these, indeed, as in all his
productions, there is an abundance of ingenu¬
ity, of elegance, and of courtly refinement; but
not the faintest vestige of the mens divinior, or
of that sympathy with the higher and nobler
passions which enabled Corneille to re-animate
and to reproduce on the stage the heroes of an¬
cient Rome. The circumstance, however, which
more peculiarly marks and distinguishes his
writings, is the French mould in which education
and habit seem to have recast all the original
features of his mind;—identifying, at the same
time, so perfectly the impressions of art with the
workmanship of nature, that one would think
the Parisian, as well as the man, had started
fresh and finished from her creative hand. Even
in his Conversations on the Plurality of Worlds,
the dry discussions with the Marchioness about
the now forgotten vortices of Descartes, are en¬
livened throughout by a never-failing spirit of
light and national gallantry, which will for ever
render them an amusing picture of the manners of
the times, and of the character of the author. The
gallantry, it must be owned, is often strained
and affected; but the affectation sits so well on
Fontenelle, that he would appear less easy and
graceful without it.
The only other production of Fontenelle’s
youth which deserves to be noticed is his History
of Oracles; a work of which the aim was, to
combat the popular belief that the oracles of an¬
tiquity were uttered by evil spirits, and that all
these spirits became dumb at the moment of the
Christian sera. To this work Fontenelle con¬
tributed little more than the agreeable and live¬
ly form in which he gave it to the world; the
chief materials being derived from a dull and
prolix dissertation on the same subject, by a
learned Dutchman. The publication excited a
keen opposition among divines, both Catholic
and Protestant; and, in particular, gave occa¬
sion to a very angry, and, it is said, not con¬
temptible criticism, from a member of the So¬
ciety of Jesuits.2 It is mentioned by La Harpe,
as an illustration of the rapid change in men’s
1 Excepting on a few metaphysical points. The chief of these were, the question concerning the origin of our uleas,
and that relating to the nature of the lower animals. On the former of these subjects he has said explicitly: -L An-
cienne Philosophie n’a pas toujours eu tort. Elle a soutenu que tout ce qui etoit dans I’esprit avoit passt paths sens, et
nous n’aurions pas mal fait de conserver cela d’elle.”—(Fragment of an intended Treatise on the Hurnan^ Mind.) On another
occasion, he states his own opinion on this point, in language coinciding exactly with that of Gassendi. . A fence d operer
sur les premieres idees formees par les sens, d’y ajouter, d’en retrancher, de les rendre de particulieres universeiles, d univer-
selles plus universelles encore, I’esprit les rend si diffdrentes de ce qu’elles etoient d’abord qu’on a quelquefois pome u recon¬
noitre leur origine. Cependant qui voudra prendre le fil et le suivre exactement, retournera toujours de 1 idee la plus
sublime et la plus dlevee, a quelque idee sensible et grossiere.” ,
2 To this criticism, the only reply made by Fontenelle was a single sentence, which he addressed to Journalist who
had urged him to take up arms in his own defence. “ Je laisserai mon censeur jouir en paix de son tiiomphe, je consens
que le diable ait ete prophete, puisque le Jesuite le veut, et qu’il croit cela plus orthodoxe. —(D Alembekt, JS ge e a
Matte.) We are told by D’Alembert, that the silence of Fontenelle, on this occasion, was owing to the advice ot Da
158
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
opinions which took place during Fontenelle’s
life, that a book which, in his youth, was cen¬
sured for its impiety, was regarded before his
death as a proof of his respect for religion.
The most solid basis of Fontenelle’s fame is
his History of the Academy of Sciences, and his
Eloges of the Academicians. Both of these works,
but more especially the latter, possess, in an
eminent degree, all the charms of his former
publications, and are written in a much simpler
and better taste than any of the others. The
materials, besides, are of inestimable value, as
succinct and authentic records of one of the most
memorable periods in the history of the human
mind; and are distinguished by a rare imparti¬
ality towards the illustrious dead, of all coun¬
tries, and of all persuasions. The philosophi¬
cal reflections, too, which the author has most
skilfully interwoven with his literary details,
discover a depth and justness of understanding
far beyond the promise of his juvenile Essays;
and afford many proofs of the soundness of his
logical views,1 as well as of his acute and fine
discrimination of the varieties and shades of
character, both intellectual and moral.
The chief and distinguishing merit of Fonte-
nelle, as the historian of the Academy, is the
happy facility with which he adapts the most
abstruse and refined speculations to the compre¬
hension of ordinary readers. Nor is this excel¬
lence purchased by any sacrifice of scientific
precision. What he aims at is nothing more
than an outline; but this outline is always exe¬
cuted with the firm and exact hand of a master,
<£ When employed in composition (he has some¬
where said) my first concern is to be certain
that I myself understand what I am about to
writeand on the utility of this practice every
page of his Historical Memoirs may serve as a
comment.2
As a writer of Eloges, he has not been equal¬
led (if I may be allowed to hazard my own opi¬
nion) by any of his countrymen. Some of those,
indeed, by D’Alembert and by Condorcet, ma¬
nifest powers of a far higher order than belonged
to Fontenelle ; but neither of these writers pos¬
sessed Fontenelle’s incommunicable art of in¬
teresting the curiosity and the feelings of his
readers in the fortunes of every individual whom
he honoured by his notice. In this art it is not
improbable that they might have succeeded bet¬
ter had they imitated Fontenelle’s self-denial in
sacrificing the fleeting praise of brilliant colour¬
ing, to the fidelity and lasting effect of their
portraits; a self-denial which in him was the
more meritorious, as his great ambition plainly
was to unite the reputation of a hel-esprit with
that of a philosopher. A justly celebrated aca-i
demician of the present times (M. Cuvier), who
has evidently adopted Fontenelle as his model,
has accordingly given an interest and truth to
his Eloges, which the public had long ceased to
expect in that species of composition.3
But the principal charm of Fontenelle’s Eloges
Motte. “ Fontenelle bien tente de terrasser son adversaire par la facility qu’il y trouvoit, fut retenu par les avis prudens
de La Motte; cet ami lui fit craindre de s’aliener par sa reponse une societe qui s’appeloit Legion, quand on avoit affaire au
dernier de ses membres.” The advice merits the attention of philosophers in all countries, for the spirit of Jesuitism is not
confined to the Church of Rome.
1 An instance of this which happens at present to recur to my memory, may serve to illustrate and to confirm the above
remark. It is unnecessary to point out its coincidence witli "the views which gave birth to the new nomenclature in
chemistry.
“ If languages had been the work of philosophers, they might certainly be more easily learned. Philosophers would
have established everywhere a systematical uniformity, which would have proved a safe and infallible guide ; and the man¬
ner of forming a derivative word, would, as a necessary consequence, have suggested its signification. The uncivilised
nations, who are the first authors of languages, fell naturally into that notion with respect to certain terminations, all of
which have some common property or virtue; but that advantage, unknown to those who had it in their hands, was not
carried to a sufficient extent.”
J From this praise, however, must be excepted, the mysterious jargon in which (after the example of some of his con¬
temporaries) he has indulged himself in speaking of the geometry and calculus of infinites. “ Nous le disons avec peine
(says D’Alembert), et sans vouloir outrager les manes d’un homme celebre qui n’est plus, il n’y a peut-etre point d’ouvrage
ou ron trouye des preuves plus frdquentes de 1’abus de la metaphysique, que dans 1’ouvrage tres connu de M. Fontenelle,
qui a pour titre Siemens de la Geometric de I'lnfini; ouvrage dont la lecture est d’autant plus dangereuse aux jeunes geo-
metres que I’auteur y presente les sophismes avec une sorte d’dlegance et de grace, dont le suiet ne paroissoit pas suscep-
tible.”—{Melanges, &c. Tom. V. p. 204.)
. 1 Alembert, in his ingenious parallel of Fontenelle and La Motte, has made a remark on Fontenelle’s style when he
aims at simplicity, of the justness of which French critics alone are competent judges. “ L’un et 1’autre ont ecrit en prose
avec beaucoup de clarte, d’elegance, de simplicitd meme; mais La Motte avec une simplicitd plus naturelle, et Fontenelle
DISSERTATION FIRST.
159
arises from the pleasing pictures which they
everywhere present of genius and learning in
the scenes of domestic life. In this respect, it
has been justly said of them by M. Suard,1 that
a they form the noblest monument ever raised
to the glory of the sciences and of letters.” Fon-
tenelle himself, in his Eloge of Varignon, after
remarking, that in him the simplicity of his cha¬
racter was only equalled by the superiority of
his talents, finely adds, “ I have already be¬
stowed so often the same praise on other mem¬
bers of this academy, that it may be doubted
whether it is not less due to the individuals, than
to the sciences which they cultivated in com¬
mon.” What a proud reply does this reflection
afford to the Machiavellian calumniators of phi¬
losophy ! i
The influence of these two works of Fon-
tenelle on the studies of the rising generation all
over Europe, can be conceived by those alone
who have compared them with similar produc¬
tions of an earlier date. Sciences which had
long been immured in colleges and cloisters,
began at length to breathe the ventilated and
wholesome air of social life. The union of phi¬
losophy and the fine arts, so much boasted of in
the schools of ancient Greece, seemed to promise
a speedy and invigorated revival. Geometry,
Mechanics, Physics, Metaphysics, and Morals,
became objects of pursuit in courts and in camps;
the accomplishments of a scholar grew more and
more into repute among the other characteristics
of a gentleman : and (what was of still greater
importance to the world) the learned discovered
the secret of cultivating the graces of writing,
as a necessary passport to truth, in a refined but
dissipated age.
Nor was this change of manners confined to
one of the sexes. The other sex, to whom na¬
ture has entrusted the first development of our
intellectual and moral powers, and who may,
therefore, be regarded as the chief medium
through which the progress of the mind is con¬
tinued from generation to generation, shared also
largely in the general improvement. Fontenelle
aspired above all things to be the philosopher of
the Parisian circles; and certainly contributed
not a little to diffuse a taste for useful know¬
ledge among women of all conditions in France,
by bringing it into vogue among the higher
classes. A reformation so great and so sudden
could not possibly take place, without giving
birth to much affectation, extravagance, and
folly; but the whole analogy of human affairs
encourages us to hope, that the inconveniencies
and evils connected with it will be partial and
temporary, and its beneficial results permanent
and progressive.2
Among the various moral defects imputed to
Fontenelle, that of a complete apathy and in-
avec une simplicity plus ^tudi^e: car la simplicity pent I’etre, et des lors elle devient maniere, et cesse d etre modele.
An idea very similar to this is happily expressed by Congreve, in his portrait of Amoret:
Coquet and Coy at once her air,
Both studied, though both seem neglected:
Careless she is with artful care.
Affecting to seem unaffected.
1 Notice sur la Vie et les Ecrits du Docteur Rolertson. (Paris, 1817.) . .
2 Among the various other respects in which Fontenelle contributed to the intellectual improvement ot his countrymen,
it ought to be mentioned, that he was one of the first writers in France who diverted the attention of metaphysicians^ rom
the old topics of scholastic discussion, to a philosophical investigation of the principles of the. fine arts. Various ongina
hints upon these subjects are scattered over his works : but the most favourable specimens of his talents for t ns very < e ica e
species of analysis are to be found in his Dissertation on Pastorals, and in his Theory concerning tlie Deng it we eiwc jrom
Tragedy.* His speculations, indeed, are not always just and satisfactory; but they are seldom deficient in noye y or re¬
finement. Their principal fault, perhaps, arises from the author’s disposition to carry his refinements oo ar, m con¬
sequence of which, his theories become chargeable with that sort of sublimated ingenuity which the I lenc i epi le am iqiie
expresses more precisely and forcibly than anv word in our language.
Something of the same philosophical spirit may be traced in Fenelon’s Dialogues on Eloqumce, am .n is. - er n
Rhetoric and Poetry. The former of these treatises, besides its merits as a speculative discussion, contains various prac¬
tical hints, well entitled to the attention of those who aspire to eminence as public speakers; and of which the most
apparently trifling claim some regard, as the results of the author’s reflections upon an art v nc i ew evei prac ise wi
greater success. „ ,„ x
Let me add, that both of these eminent men (who may be regarded as the fathers of philosophical criticism in trance)
were zealous partizans and admirers of the Cartesian metaphysics. It is this critical branch of metaphysical science which,
* In the judgment of Mr Hume, “ there is not a finer piece of criticism than Fontenelle’s Dissertation on Pastorals ; in
tvhich, by a number of reflections and philosophical reasonings, he endeavours to fix the just medium between snap ici .
and refinement, which is suitable to that species of poetry.”
160
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
sensibility to all concerns but his own is by far
the most prominent. A letter of the Baron de
Grimm, written immediately after Fontenelle s
death, but not published till lately, has given a
new circulation in this country to some anec¬
dotes injurious to his memory, which had long
ago fallen into oblivion or contempt in France.
The authority, however, of this adventurer, who
earned his subsistence by collecting and retail¬
ing, for the amusement of a German Prince,
the literary scandal of Paris, is not much to be
relied on in estimating a character with which
he does not appear to have had any opportunity of
becoming personally acquainted; more especially
as, during Fontenelle’s long decline, the great
majority of men of letters in France were dis¬
posed to throw his merits into the shade, as
an acceptable homage to the rising and more
dazzling glories of Voltaire.1 It is in the Aca¬
demical Memoirs of D’Alembert and Condorcet
(neither of whom can be suspected of any un¬
just prejudice against Voltaire, but who were
both too candid to sacrifice truth to party feel¬
ings) that we ought to search for Fontenelle’s
real portrait:8 Or rather (if it be true, as
Dr Hutcheson has somewhere remarked, that
ec men have commonly the good or bad quali¬
ties which they ascribe to mankind”) the most
faithful Ebge on Fontenelle himself is to be
found in those which he has pronounced upon
others.
That the character of Fontenelle would have
been more amiable and interesting, had his vir¬
tues been less the result of cold and prudent
calculation, it is impossible to dispute. But his
conduct through life was pure and blameless;
and the happy serenity of his temper, which
prolonged his life till he had almost completed
his hundredth year, served as the best comment
on the spirit of that mild and benevolent philo¬
sophy, of which he had laboured so long to ex¬
tend the empire.
It is a circumstance almost singular in his
history, that since the period of his death, his
reputation, both as a man and as an author,
has been gradually rising. The fact has been
as remarkably the reverse with most of those
who have calumniated his memory.
While the circle of mental cultivation was
thus rapidly widening in France, a similar pro¬
gress was taking place, upon a larger scale, and
under still more favourable circumstances, in
England. To this progress nothing contributed
in my opinion, has been most successfully cultivated by French writers; although too many of them have been infected
(after the example of Fontenelle) with the disease of sickly and of hyper-vietaphysical subtlety.
From this censure, however, must be excepted the Abbe Dubos, whose Critical Reflections on Poetry and Painting is one
of the most agreeable and instructive works that can be put into the hands of youth. Few books are better calculated for
leading their minds gradually from literature to philosophy. The author’s theories, if not always profound or just, are in
general marked with good sense as well as with ingenuity; and the subjects to which they relate are so peculiarly attrac¬
tive, as to fix the attention even of those readers who have but little relish for speculative discussions. “ Ce qui fait la
bonte de cet ouvrage (says Voltaire) c’est qu’il n’y a que pen d’erreurs, et beaucoup de reflexions vraies, nouvelles, et pro-
fondes. II manque cependant d’ordre et sur-tout de precision ; il auroit pu etre ecrit avec plus de feu, de grace, et d’eld-
gance ; mais Vccrivain pense et fait penser."—(Siecle de Louis XIV.)
1 As to Voltaire himself, it must be mentioned, to his honour, that though there seems never to have been much cordia¬
lity between him and Fontenelle, he had yet the magnanimity to give a place to this Nestor of French literature in his
catalogue of the eminent persons who adorned the reign of >Louis XIV.: a tribute of respect the more flattering, as it is
_ the single instance in which he has departed from his general rule of excluding from his list the names of all his living con¬
temporaries. Even Fontenelle’s most devoted admirers ought to be satisfied with the liberality of Voltaire’s eulogy, in
which, after pronouncing Fontenelle “ the most universal genius which the age of Louis XIV. had produced,” he thus sums
up his merits as an author. “ Enfin on 1’a regarde comme le premier des homines dans 1’art nouveau de repandre de la
lumiere et des graces sur les sciences abstraites, et il a eu du merite dans tous les autres genres qu’il a traite's. Tant de
talens ont ete soutenus par la connoissance des langues et de 1’histoire, et il a etc sans contredit au-dessus de tous les sfavans qui
n’ont pas eu le don de I'invention."
* Condorcet has said expressly, that his apathy was confined entirely to what regarded himself; and that he was always
an active, though frequently a concealed friend, where his good offices could be useful to those who deserved them. “ On a
cm Fontenelle insensible, parce que sachant maitriser les mouvemens de son ame il seconduisoit d’apresson esprit, toujours
juste et toujours sage. D’ailleurs, il avoit consent! sans peine a conserver cette reputation d’insensibilite; il avoit souffert
les plaisanteries de ses societes sur sa froideur, sans chercher a les detromper, parce que, bien sur que les vraies amis n’en
seroit pas la dupe, il voyoit dans cette reputation un moyen commode de se delivrer des indifferens sans blesser leur amour-
propre.”—(Eloge de Fontenelle, par Condorcet.)
Many of Fontenelle’s sayings, the import of which must have depended entirely on circumstances of time and place un¬
known to us, have been absurdly quoted to his disadvantage, in their literal and most obvious acceptation. “ I hate war
(said he), for it spoils conversation.” Can any just inference be drawn from the levity of this convivial sally, against the
humanity of the person who uttered it ? Or father, when connected with the characteristical finesse of Fontenelle’s wit,
does it not lead to a conclusion precisely opposite ?
DISSERTATION FIRST.
161
more powerfully than the periodical papers pub¬
lished under various titles by Addison1 and his
associates. The effect of these in reclaiming
the public taste from the licentiousness and
grossness introduced into England at the period
of the Restoration; in recommending the most
serious and important truths by the united at¬
tractions of wit, humour, imagination, and elo¬
quence ; and, above all, in counteracting those
superstitious terrors which the weak and igno¬
rant are so apt to mistake for religious and moral
impressions—has been remarked by numberless
critics, and is acknowledged even by those who
felt no undue partiality in favour of the authors.8
Some of the papers of Addison, however, are of
an order still higher, and bear marks of a mind
which, if early and steadily turned to philoso¬
phical pursuits, might have accomplished much
more than it ventured to undertake. His fre¬
quent references to the Essay on Human Under¬
standing^ and the high encomiums with which
they are always accompanied, show how suc¬
cessfully he had entered into the spirit of that
work, and how completely he was aware of the
importance of its object. The popular nature
of his publications, indeed, which rendered it
necessary for him to avoid everything that
might savour of scholastic or of metaphysical
discussion, has left us no means of estimating
his philosophical depth, but what are afforded
by the results of his thoughts on the particular
topics which he has occasion to allude to, and
by some of his incidental comments on the
scientific merits of preceding authors. But
these means are sufficiently ample to justify a
very high opinion of his sound and unprejudiced
judgment, as well as of the extent and correct¬
ness of his literary information. Of his powers
as a logical reasoner he has not enabled us to
form an estimate; but none of his contempo¬
raries seem to have been more completely tinc¬
tured with all that is most valuable in the me-
taphysical and ethical systems of his time.5
But what chiefly entitles the name of Addi¬
son to a place in this Discourse, is his Essays on
the Pleasures of Imagination; the first attempt
in England to investigate the principles of the
fine arts; and an attempt which, notwithstand¬
ing many defects in the execution, is entitled to
the praise of having struck out a new avenue to
the study of the human mind, more alluring
than any which had been opened before. In
this respect, it forms a most important supple¬
ment to Locke’s Survey of the Intellectual Powers ;
and it has, accordingly, served as a text, on
which the greater part of Locke’s disciples have
been eager to offer their comments and their
corrections. The progress made by some of
these in exploring this interesting region has
been great; but let not Addison be defrauded of
his claims as a discoverer.
Similar remarks may be extended to the hints
suggested by Addison on Wit, on Humour, and
on the causes of Laughter. It cannot, indeed,
be said of him, that he exhausted any one of
these subjects; but he had at least the merit of
starting them as problems for the consideration
of philosophers; nor would it be easy to name
among his successors, a single writer who has
made so important a step towards their solution,
as the original proposer.
The philosophy of the papers to which the fore¬
going observations refer, has been pronounced
to be slight and superficial, by a crowd of modern
metaphysicians, who were but ill entitled to erect
themselves into judges on such a question.4 The
singular simplicity and perspicuity of Addison’s
style have contributed much to the prevalence
' Born in 1672, died in 1719.
3 ^ee Pope’s Imitations of Horace, Book II. Epistle I. “ Unhappy Dryden,” &c. &c.
1 quote the following passage from Addison, not as a specimen of his'metaphysical acumen, but as a proof of his good
ense m divining and obviating a difficulty which I believe most persons will acknowledge occurred to themselves when
“ AirSt ent;ere^ on metaphysical studies :—
, __ Although we divide the soul into several powers and faculties, there is no such division in the soul itself, since it is
ie ■whole soul that remembers, understands, wills, or imagines. Our manner of considering the memory, understanding,
wi t, imagination, and the like faculties, is for the better enabling us to express ourselves in such abstracted subjects of
peculation, not that there is any such division in the soul itself.” In another part of the same paper, Addison observes,
a what we call the faculties of the soul are only the different ways or modes in which the soul can exert herself.”—
(Spectator, No. 600.)
For some important remarks on the words Powers and Faculties, as applied to the Mind, see Locke, B. II. Ch. xxi. § 20.
See Nj^te R R. ’
DISS. i. PART II. X
162
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
of this prejudice. Eager for the instruction,
and unambitious of the admiration of the multi¬
tude, he everywhere studies to bring himself
down to their level; and even when he thinks
with the greatest originality, and writes with
the most inimitable felicity, so easily do we en¬
ter into the train of his ideas, that we can hard¬
ly persuade ourselves that we could not have
thought and written in the same manner. He
has somewhere said of “ fine writing,” that it
“ consists of sentiments which are natural, with¬
out being obvious and his definition has been
applauded by Hume, as at once concise and just.
Of the thing defined, his own periodical essays
exhibit the most perfect examples.
To this simplicity and perspicuity, the wide
circulation which his works have so long main¬
tained among all classes of readers, is in a great
measure to he ascribed. His periods are not
constructed, like those of Johnson, to “ elevate
and surprise,” by filling the ear and dazzling
the fancy; hut we close his volumes with greater
reluctance, and return to the perusal of them with
far greater alacrity. Franklin, whose fugitive
publications on political topics have had so extra¬
ordinary an influence on public opinion, both in
the Old and New Worlds, tells us that his style in
writing was formed upon the model of Addison:
Nor do I know anything in the history of his
life which does more honour to his shrewdness
and sagacity. The copyist, indeed, did not pos¬
sess the gifted hand of his master,—Museo con-
ting ens cuncta lepore; but such is the effect of
his plain and seemingly artless manner, that the
most profound conclusions of political economy
assume, in his hands, the appearance of indis¬
putable truths; and some of them, which had
been formerly confined to the speculative few,
are already current in every country of Europe,
as proverbial maxims.1
To touch, however slightly, on Addison’s
other merits, as a critic, as a wit, as a specula¬
tive politician, and, above all, as a moralist,
would lead me completely astray from my pre¬
sent object. It will not he equally foreign to it
to quote the two following short passages,
which, though not strictly metaphysical, are, both
of them, the result of metaphysical habits of
thinking, and bear a stronger resemblance than
anything I recollect among the wits of Queen
Anne’s reign, to the best philosophy of the pre¬
sent age. They approach, indeed, very nearly to
the philosophy of Turgot and of Smith.
“ Among other excellent arguments for tbe
immortality of the soul, there is one drawn from
the perpetual progress of the soul to its perfec¬
tion, without a possibility of ever arriving at it;
which is a hint that I do not remember to have
seen opened and improved by others who have
written on this subject, though it seems to me
to carry a great weight with it. A brute arrives
at a point of perfection that he can never pass.
In a few years he has all the endowments he is
capable of; and were he to live ten thousand
more, would he the same thing he is at present.
Were a human soul thus at a stand in her ac¬
complishments, were her faculties to he full¬
blown, and incapable of further enlargement, I
would imagine it might fall away insensibly,
and drop at once into a state of annihilation.
But can we believe a thinking being, that is in
a perpetual progress of improvement, and tra¬
velling on from perfection to perfection, after
having just looked abroad into the works of its
Creator, and made a few discoveries of his in¬
finite goodness, wisdom, and power, must perish
at her first setting out, and in the very begin¬
ning of her inquiries ?”2
The philosophy of the other passage is not
unworthy of the author of the Wealth of Nations.
The thought may he traced to earlier writers, but
certainly it was never before presented with the
same fulness and liveliness of illustration; nor
do I know, in all Addison’s works, a finer in¬
stance of his solicitude for the improvement of
his fair readers, than the address with which he
1 The expressions “ Laissez nous fair c,” and “pas trap gouvernerf which comprise, in a few words, two of the most im¬
portant lessons of Political Wisdom, are indebted chiefly for their extensive circulation to the short and luminous comments
of Franklin—(See his Political Fragments, § 4.)
2 This argument has been prosecuted with great ingenuity and force of reasoning (blended, however, with some of the
peculiarities of his Berkeleian metaphysics) by the late Dr James Hutton.—(See his Investigation, of the Principles of Know¬
ledge, Yol. III. p. 195, et seq. Edin. 1794.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
163
here insinuates one of the sublimest moral les- ed at a greater distance from each other than at
sons, while apparently aiming only to amuse the Revolution, when Locke stood at the head
them with the geographical history of the muff of one party, and Dryden of the other.” He
and the tippet. observes, also, that “ a Arery great progress to-
“ Nature seems to have taken a particular wards their re-union had been made within these
care to disseminate her blessings among the dif¬
ferent regions of the world, with an eye to the
mutual intercourse and traffic among mankind;
that the natives of the several parts of the globe
might have a kind of dependance upon one
another, and he united together by their com¬
mon interest. Almost every degree produces
something peculiar to it. The food often grows
in one country, and the sauce in another. The
fruits of Portugal are corrected by the products
of Barbadoes; the infusion of a China plant,
sweetened with the pith of an Indian cane. The
Philippine Islands give a flavour to our Euro¬
pean bowls. The single dress of a woman of
quality is often the product of a hundred cli¬
mates. The muff and the fan come together from
the opposite ends of the earth. The scarf is
sent from the torrid zone, and the tippet from
beneath the pole. The brocade petticoat rises
out of the mines of Peru, and the diamond neck¬
lace out of the bowels of Indostan.”
But I must not dwell longer on the fascinat-
ing pages of Addison. Allow me only, before
I close them, to contrast the last extract with a
remark of Voltaire, which, shallow and con¬
temptible as it is, occurs more than once, both
in verse and in prose, in his voluminous writings.
II murit, a Moka, dans le sable Arabique,
Ce Caffe ne'cessaire aux pays des frimats;
II met la Fievre en nos climats,
Ft le remede en Amerique.
(Epitre au Roi du Prussc, 1750.)
And yet Voltaire is admired as a philosopher
by many who will smile to hear this title bestow¬
ed upon Addison !
It is observed by Akenside, in one of the notes
to the Pleasures of Imagination, that 4 4 Philoso¬
phy and the Fine Arts can hardly be conceiv-
few years.” To this progress the chief impulse was
undoubtedly gi ven by Addison and Shaftesbury.
Notwithstanding, however, my strong parti¬
ality for the former of these writers, I should
he truly sorry to think, with Mr Hume, that
44 Addison will he read with pleasure when
Locke shall he entirely forgotten.”—(Essay on
the Different Species of Philosophy.)
A few years before the commencement of
these periodical works, a memorable accession
was made to metaphysical science, by the pub¬
lication of Berkeley’s ~New Theory of Vision, and
of his Principles of Human Knowledge. Possess¬
ed of a mind which, however inferior to that
of Locke in depth of reflection and in soundness
of judgment, was fully its equal in logical acute¬
ness and invention, and in learning, fancy, and
taste, far its superior,—Berkeley was singularly
fitted to promote that re-union of Philosophy and
of the Fine Arts which is so essential to the
prosperity of both. Locke, we are told, despis¬
ed poetry; and we know from one of his own
letters, that, among our English poets, his fa¬
vourite author was Sir Richard Blackmore.
Berkeley, on the other hand, courted the society
of all, from whose conversation and manners
he could hope to add to the embellishments of
his genius; and although himself a decided and
High Church Tory,1 lived in habits of friend¬
ship with Steele and Addison, as well as with
Pope and Swift. Pope’s admiration of him
seems to have risen to a sort of enthusiasm. He
yielded to Berkeley’s decision on a very delicate
question relating to the exordium of the Essay
on Man ; and on his moral qualities he has be¬
stowed the highest and most unqualified eulogy
to he found in his writings.
• , ee a volume of Sermons, preached in the chapel of Trinity College, Dublin. See also a Discourse addressed to Ma¬
th8 T efs,-^c' Pooled in 1736. In both of these publications, the author carries his Tory principles so far, as to represent
mai 0Ctnne °* Passlvo obedience and non-resistance as an essential article of the Christian faith. “ The Christian religion
ooHstitutum sacred, by commanding our submission thereto. Let every soul be subject to the higher powers,
kt I aul, for the powers that be are ordained of God.”
164
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
“ Even in a Bishop I can spy desert;
Seeker is decent; Bundle has a heart;
Manners with candour are to Benson given;
To Berkeley every virtue under Heaven.”
With these intellectual and moral endow¬
ments, admired and blazoned as they were by
the most distinguished wits of his age, it is not
surprising that Berkeley should have given a
popularity and fashion to metaphysical pursuits,
which they had never before acquired in Eng¬
land. Nor was this popularity diminished by
the boldness of some of his paradoxes: on the
contrary, it was in no small degree the effect of
them; the great bulk of mankind being always
prone to mistake a singularity or eccentricity of
thinking, for the originality of a creative genius.
The solid additions, however, made by Berke¬
ley to the stock of human knowledge were im¬
portant and brilliant. Among these, the first
place is unquestionably due to his New Theory
of Vision ; a work abounding with ideas so dif¬
ferent from those commonly received, and, at
the same time, so profound and refined, that it
was regarded by all but a few accustomed to deep
metaphysical reflection, rather in the light of a
philosophical romance, than of a sober inquiry
after truth. Such, however, has been since the
progress and diffusion of this sort of knowledge,
that the leading and most abstracted doctrines
contained in it, form now an essential part of
every elementary treatise of optics, and are
adopted by the most superficial smatterers in
science as fundamental articles of their faith.
Of a theory, the outlines of which cannot fail
to be familiar to a great majority of my readers,
it would be wholly superfluous to attempt any
explanation here, even if it were consistent with
the limits within which I am circumscribed.
Suffice it to observe, that its chief aim is to dis¬
tinguish the immediate and natural objects of
sight from the seemingly instantaneous conclu¬
sions which experience and habit teach us to
draw from them in our earliest infancy; or, in
the more concise metaphysical language of a
later period, to draw the line between the ori¬
ginal and the acquired perceptions of the eye.
They who wish to study it in detail, will find
ample satisfaction, and, if they have any relish
for such studies, an inexhaustible fund of enter¬
tainment, in Berkeley’s own short but masterly
exposition of his principles, and in the excellent
comments upon it by Smith of Cambridge; by
Porterfield; by Reid; and, still more lately, by
the author of the Wealth of Nations.1
That this doctrine, with respect to the acquir¬
ed perceptions of sight, was quite unknown to
the best metaphysicians of antiquity, we have
direct evidence in a passage of Aristotle’s Nico-
machian Ethics, where he states the distinction
between those endowments which are the imme¬
diate gift of nature, and those which are the
fruit of custom and habit. In the former class,
he ranks the perceptions of sense, mentioning
particularly the senses of seeing and of hearing.
The passage (which I have transcribed in a
Note) is curious, and seems to me decisive on
the subject.2
The misapprehensions of the ancients on this
very obscure question will not appear surprising,
when it is considered, that forty years after the
publication of Berkeley’s Theory of Vision, and
sixty years after the date of Locke’s Essay, the
subject was so imperfectly understood in France,
that Condillac (who is, to this day, very gene¬
rally regarded by his countrymen as the father
of genuine logic and metaphysics) combated at
great length the conclusions of the English phi¬
losophers concerning the acquired perceptions of
sight; affirming that “ the eye judges naturally
of figures, of magnitudes, of situations, and of
1 By this excellent judge, Berkeley’s New Theory of Vision is pronounced to be “ one of the finest examples of Philoso¬
phical Analysis that is to be found in our own, or any other language.”—(Essays on Philosophical Subjects. Lond. 1795,
p. 215.)
2 Ou yu!> Ik t5 ToXXtixis <c£v, ») ToXXazts axovffui ru; clur^taei; tXa[!n>y.iv, aXX’ avaoraXiv, i%ovrt; \^nffayi6a, n ftgtiffuytvoi
(Ethic. Nicomach. Lib. ii. cap. 1.)
“ For it is not from seeing often, or from hearing often, that we get these senses; but, on the contrary, instead of get¬
ting them by using them, we use them because we have got them.”
Had Aristotle been at all aware of the distinction so finely illustrated by Berkeley, instead of appealing to the percep¬
tions of these two senses, as instances of endowments coeval with our birth, he would have quoted them as the most
triking of all examples of th e effects of custom in apparently identifying our acquired powers with our original faculties.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
165
distances.” His argument in support of this
opinion is to be found in the sixth section of
his Essay on the Origin of Human Knowledge.
It is difficult to suppose, that a person of
mature years, who had read and studied Locke
and Berkeley with as much care and attention
as Condillac appears to have bestowed on them,
should have reverted to this ancient and vulgar
prejudice; without suspecting that his metaphy¬
sical depth has been somewhat overrated by the
world.1 It is hut justice, however, to Condillac
to add, that, in a subsequent work, he had the
candour to acknowledge and to retract his er¬
ror •—a rare example of that disinterested love
of truth, which is so becoming in a philosopher.
I quote the passage (in a literal, though some¬
what abridged version), not only to show, that,
in the above statement, I have not misrepre¬
sented his opinion, but because I consider this
remarkable circumstance in his literary history
as a peculiarly amiable and honourable trait in
his character.
“ We cannot recall to our memory the igno¬
rance in which we were born : It is a state
which leaves no trace behind it. We only re¬
collect our ignorance of those things, the know¬
ledge of which we recollect to have acquired;
and to remark what we acquire, some previous
knowledge is necessary. That memory which
now renders us so sensible of the step from one
acquisition to another, cannot remount to the
first steps of the progress; on the contrary, it
supposes them already made; and hence the
origin of our disposition to believe them connate
with ourselves. To say that we have learnt to
see, to hear, to taste, to smell, to touch, appears
a most extraordinary paradox. It seems to us
that nature gave us the complete use of our
senses the moment she formed them, and that
we have always made use of them without study,
because we are no longer obliged to study in
order to use them. I retained these prejudices
at the time I published my Essay on the Origin
of Human Knowledge ; the reasonings of Locke
on a man horn blind, to whom the sense of sight
Avas afterwards given, did not undeceive me :
and I maintained against this philosopher that the
eye judges naturally of figures, of sizes, of situa¬
tions, and of distances”—Nothing short of his
own explicit aAmwal could have convinced me,
that a writer of so high pretensions and of such
unquestionable ingenuity as Condillac, had real¬
ly commenced his metaphysical career under so
gross and unaccountable a delusion.
In bestowing the praise of originality on
Berkeley’s Theory of Vision, I do not mean to
say, that the whole merit of this Theory is ex¬
clusively his own. In this, as in most other
cases, it may he presumed, that the progress of
the human mind has been gradual: And, in
point of fact, it will, on examination, he found,
that Berkeley only took up the inquiry Avhere
Locke dropped it; following out his principles
to their remoter consequences, and placing them
in so great a variety of strong and happy lights,
as to bring a doctrine till then understood but by
a few, Avithin the reach of every intelligent and
attentive reader. For my OAvn part, on com¬
paring these two philosophers together, I am at
a loss whether most to admire the powerful and
penetrating sagacity of the one, or the fertility
of invention displayed in the illustrations of the
other. What can be more clear and forcible
than the statement of Locke quoted in the Note
beloAV; and what an idea does it convey of his
superiority to Condillac, Avhen it is considered,
that he anticipated a priori the same doctrine
Avhich was afterwards confirmed by the fine
analysis of Berkeley, and demonstrated by the
judicious experiments of Cheselden; Avhile the
1 Voltaire, at an earlier period, had seized completely the scope of Berkeley s theory an la e p <1
brevity and precision, in the following passage of his Elements of the Newtonian Phi osophy.— nnrlpr pWps
“ II faut absolument conclure, que les distances, les grandeurs, les situations ne son p ■> ' P P P, , ’ . t
visibles, c’est a dire, ne sont pas les objets propres et immediats de la vue. L obje prop ym,„ annrpnons x
tre chose que la lumiere coloree: tout le reste, nous ne le sentons qu a la longue e par t pe . PP j
ir, pre'cisement comme nous apprenons a parler et a lire. La difference est, que Part de voir est plus facile, et que la
autre
voir.
^“nShrmes, que toutes nos fcnes a un certain age ^
des situations, nous font penser, qu’il n’y a qu’a ouvrir les yeux pour voir a mamere dont nousvoyons. On se trompe,U
y faut le secours des autres sens. Si les hommes n’avoient que lessens de la yiie, s n au oi Dieu ne la lui
noitre Petendue en longeur, largeur et profondeur, et un pur esprit ne la connoitroit p - ? ‘I
re'vdlat.”—P/m/s. Newton, Chap. 7«
166
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
French metaphysician, with all this accumula¬
tion of evidence before him, relapsed into a pre¬
judice transmitted to modern times, from the
very infancy of optical science !1
I believe it would be difficult to produce from
any writer prior to Locke, an equal number of im¬
portant facts relating to the intellectual phenome¬
na, as well observed, and as unexceptionably de¬
scribed, as those which I have here brought under
my reader’s eye. It must appear evident, besides,
to all who have studied the subject, that Locke
has, in this passage, enunciated, in terms the
most precise and decided, the same general con¬
clusion concerning the effect of constant and
early habits, which it was the great object of
Berkeley’s Theory of Vision to establish, and
which, indeed, gives to that work its chief value,
when considered in connection with the Philo¬
sophy of the Human Mind.
Berkeley himself, it is to be observed, by no
means lays claim to that complete novelty in
his Theory of Vision, which has been ascribed
to it by many who, in all probability, derived
their whole information concerning it from the
traditional and inexact transcripts of book-mak¬
ing historians. In the introductory sentences
of his Essay, he states very clearly and candid¬
ly the conclusions of his immediate predecessors
on this class of our perceptions; and explains,
with the greatest precision, in what particulars
his own opinion differs from theirs. “ It is, I
think, agreed by all, that distance, of itself, can¬
not be seen. For distance being a line directed
end-wise to the eye, it projects only one point
in the fund of the eye, which point remains in¬
variably the same, whether the distance be
longer or shorter.
“ I find it also acknowledged, that the esti¬
mate we make of the distance of objects consi¬
derably remote, is rather an act of judgment
grounded on experience, than of sense. For ex¬
ample, when I perceive a great number of inter¬
mediate objects, such as houses, fields, rivers,
and the like, which I have experienced to take
1 “ We are farther to consider,” says Locke, “ concerning perception, that the ideas we receive by sensation are often in
grown people altered by the judgment, without our taking notice of it. When we set before our eyes a round globe, of any
uniform coloui, v. g. gold, alabaster, or jet, it is certain that the idea thereby imprinted in our mind is of a fiat circle, va¬
riously shadowed, with several degrees ot light and brightness coming to our eyes. But we having by use been accustomed
to perceive what kind of appearance convex bodies are wont to make in us, what alterations are made in the reflections of
light by the dilreience of the sensible figure of bodies; the judgment presently, by an habitual custom, alters the appear¬
ances into their causes, so that,, from what truly is variety of shadow or colour, collecting the figure it makes it pass for a
mark of figure, and frames to itself the perception of a convex figure, and an uniform colour; when the idea we receive
from thence is only a plane variously coloured, as is evident in painting. * * • *
‘ But this is not, I think, usual in any of our ideas, but those received by sight ;* because sight, the most comprehensive
°f a]1 our senses, conveying to our minds the ideas of lights and colours, which are peculiar only to that sense ; and also
t.e .ar 11 erent ideas of space, figure, or motion, the several varieties whereof change the appearances of its proper objects,
viz. l.ght and colours, we bring ourselves by use to judge of the one by the other. This, in many cases, bv a settled habit
in things whereof we have frequent experience, is performed so constantly and so quick, that we take t/iai for the perception
o om sensation, which is an idea formed by our judgment; so that one, viz. that of sensation, serves only to excite the
other, and is scarce taken notice of itself: as a man who reads or hears with attention or understanding, takes little notice
ot the characters or sounds, but of the ideas that are excited in him by them.
“ Nor need we wonder that it is done with so little notice, if we consider how very yutck the actions of the mind are per-
formed; for as itself is thought to take up no space, to have no extension, so its actions seem to require no time, but many
of them seem to be crowded into an instant. I speak this in comparison to the actions of the body. Any one may easily
observe this in his own thoughts, who will take the pains to reflect on them. How, as it were in an instant, do our minds
with one glance see all the parts of a demonstration, which may very well be called a long one, if we consider the time it
will require to put it into words, and step by step show it to another? Secondly, we shall not be so much surprised
that this is done in us with so little notice, if we consider how the facility which we get of doing things by a custom of doing
makes them often pass in us without our notice. J/aM/s, especially such as are begun very early, come at last to produce
U-S’ W.u1C.h °ften eSfa?,e.Tr, obf r™tlons. How frequently do we in a day cover our eyes with our eye-lids, with-
cspnimi CLUin£ ia 've aie at a . f t1le ,,ai ^ • Hen. tnat have by custom got the use of a bye-word, do almost in every
forp ft tPn T0Unte S0UndJ’ 'vhlch’ th°^1 taken notlce of by others, they themselves neither hear nor observe; and,there-
sffvp nflv fl 1 0Ur rnd shoul( .often c!ianS? the idea of its nation into that of its judgment, and make one
serve only to excite the other, without our taking notice of it.”—(Locke’s Works, Vol. I. p. 123, et seq.)
nnrtinrfnf b's'Tpf ow5Tei ’ have remarked something very similar to it in the perceptions of the ear; a very large pro-
conversation bmv ™ ^ 6 ° if'if8 ^einS rather judged of than actually perceived. In the rapidity (for example) of common
words ar^f’nofl-W 7 F iafleS’ T e,ven words’ escaPe the notice of the most attentive hearer; which syllables and
tfoomish betvfeenVbP froa\t.he .relat,lon which they bear to the rest of the sentence, that it is quite impossible to dis-
SifcefbvlL most afni I® and tA°.lnaudlble sounds ! A very.palpable instance of this occurs in the difficulty expe-
first time they are pronounced111 catc unS lr,'°Pcr names or arithmetical sums, or words borrowed from unknown tongues, the
DISSERTATION FIRST.
167
up a considerable space ; I thence form a judg¬
ment or conclusion, that the object I see beyond
them is at a great distance. Again, when an
object appears faint and small, which, at a near
distance, I have experienced to make a vigorous
and large appearance, I instantly conclude it to
he far off. And this, ’tis evident, is the result
of experience; without which, from the faintness
and littleness, I should not have inferred any¬
thing concerning the distance of objects.
a But when an object is placed at so near a
distance, as that the interval between the eyes
hears any sensible proportion to it, it is the re¬
ceived opinion that the two optic axes, concur¬
ring at the object, do there make an angle, by
means of which, according as it is greater or
less, the object is perceived to he nearer or far¬
ther off.
« There is another way mentioned by the
optic writers, whereby they will have us judge
of those distances, in respect of which the
breadth of the pupil hath any sensible bigness;
and that is, the greater or less divergency of
the rays, which, issuing from the visible point,
do fall on the pupil; that point being judged
nearest, which is seen by most diverging rays,
and that remoter, which is seen by less diver¬
ging rays.”
These (according to Berkeley) are the ti com¬
mon and current accounts” given by mathema¬
ticians of our perceiving near distances by sight.
He then proceeds to show, that they are unsa¬
tisfactory ; and that it is necessary, for the so¬
lution of this problem, to avail ourselves of prin¬
ciples borrowed from a higher philosophy : Af¬
ter which, he explains, in detail, his own theory
concerning the ideas (sensations) which, by ex¬
perience, become signs of distance;1 or (to use
his own phraseology) <c by which distance is
suggested* to the mind.” The result of the
whole is, that, “ a man born blind, being made
to see, would not at first have any idea of dis¬
tance by sight. The sun and stars, the remotest
objects as well as the nearest, would all seem to be
in his Eye, or rather in his Mind.”s
From this quotation it appears, that, before
Berkeley’s time, philosophers had advanced
greatly beyond the point at which Aristotle
stopped, and towards which Condillac, in his first
publication, made a retrograde movement. Of
this progress some of the chief steps may be
traced as early as the twelfth century in the
Optics of Alhazen ;4 and they may be perceived
still more clearly and distinctly in various op¬
tical writers since the revival of letters ; parti¬
cularly in the Optica Promota of James Gre¬
gory.5 Father Malebranche went still farther,
and even anticipated some of the metaphysical
1 For assisting persons unaccustomed to metaphysical studies to enter into the spirit and scope of Berkeley s T;ran/, the
best illustration I know of is furnished by the phenomena of the Phantasmagoria. It is sufhcient to hint at this application
of these phenomena, to those who know anything of the subject. , . , t , . . . Tr-
* The word suggest is much used by Berkeley, in this appropriate and technical sense, not only in his JAeoz-t/ 0/
but in his Principles of Human Knowledge, and in his Minute Philosopher. It expresses, indeed, the cardinal pnriciple on
which his Theory of Vision hinges; and is now so incorporated with some of our best metaphysical speculations, that 0
cannot easily conceive how the use of it was so long dispensed with. Locke (in the passage quo e in le ’ P’ ‘j
uses the word excite' for the same purpose; but it seems to imply an hypothesis concerning 11^ mec lanism ,
by no means expresses the fact in question with the same force and precision. . , a
It is remarkable, that Dr Held should have thought it incumbent on him to apologise for introducing into philosop y a
word so familiar to every person conversant with Berkeley’s works. “ I beg leave to make use o r>’ u:
cause I know not one more proper to express a power of the mmd, which seems entirely to ave es 1 •
losophers, and to which we owe many of our simple notions which are neither impressions nor 1 a , . , ^
nal principles of belief. I shall endeavour to explain, by an example, what I understanc y '1
a certain kind of sound suggests immediately to the mind a coach passing in the street; an no 'P, disagree
tion, but the belief, that a coach is passing: Yet there is no comparing of ideas, no Pfff
ments to produce this belief; nor is there the least similitude between the sound we hear, and the coach we imagine a
SoLrDrVSTSse of the word coincides exactly with that of Berkeley ; but the former will be found ^ ^
meaning more extensive than the latter, by employing it to comprehend not on y lose w p i tue orimnal
experience and habit; but another class intimations (quite overlooked by Berkeley), 10 e S
frame of the human mind—(See Reid’s/Mgwir?/, chap. ii. sect. 7-) v*cintwl frnve rise to
3 I request the attention of my readers to this last sentence, as I have little on .. • f Indeed sur
the theory which Berkeley afterwards adopted, concerning the non-existence of the material world. Jt is not, indeed,
prising that a conclusion, so very curious with respect to the objects of sight, should have been, in the first ardour ot dis-
covery, too hastily extended to those qualities also which are the appropriate objects 01 touen.
4 Alhazen, Lib. ii. N N. 10. 12. 39.
. * See the end of Prop. 28.
168
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
reasonings of Berkeley concerning the means hy
which experience enables us to judge of the dis¬
tances of near objects. In proof of this, it is
sufficient to mention the explanation he gives of
the manner in which a comparison of the percep¬
tions of sight and of touch teaches us gradually
to estimate by the eye the distances of all those
objects which are within reach of our hands, or
of which we are accustomed to measure the dis¬
tance, by walking over the intermediate ground.
In rendering this justice to earlier writers, I
have no wish to detract from the originality of
Berkeley. With the single exception, indeed,
of the passage in Malehranche which I have
just referred to, and which it is more than pro¬
bable was unknown to Berkeley when his theory
first occurred to him,1 I have ascribed to his
predecessors nothing more than what he has
himself explicitly acknowledged to belong to
them. All that I wished to do was, to supply
some links in the historical chain, which he has
omitted.
The influence v/hich this justly celebrated
work has had, not only in perfecting the theory
of optics, but in illustrating the astonishing ef¬
fects of early habit on the mental phenomena in
general, will sufficiently account to my intelli¬
gent readers for the length to which the fore¬
going observations upon it have extended.
Next in point of importance to Berkeley’s New
Theory of Vision, which I regard as by far the
most solid basis of his philosophical fame, may be
ranked his speculations concerning the Objects
of General Terms, and his celebrated argument
against the existence of the Material World.
On both of these questions I have elsewhere ex¬
plained my own ideas so fully, that it would be
quite superfluous for me to resume the consi¬
deration of them here.2 In neither instance are
his reasonings so entirely original as has been
commonly supposed. In the former, they co¬
incide in substance, although with immense im¬
provements in the form, with those of the scho¬
lastic nominalists, as revived and modified by
Hobbes and Leibnitz. In the latter instance,
they amount to little more than an ingenious
and elegant development of some principles of
Malebranche, pushed to certain paradoxical but
obvious consequences, of which Malebranche,
though unwilling to avow them, appears to have
been fully aware. These consequences, too,
had been previously pointed out by Mr Norris,
a very learned divine of the church of England,
whose name has unaccountably failed in obtain¬
ing that distinction to which his acuteness as a
logician, and his boldness as a theorist, justly
entitled him !5
The great object of Berkeley, in maintaining
his system of idealism, it may be proper to re¬
mark in passing, was to cut up by the roots the
scheme of materialism. “ Matter (he tells us
himself) being once expelled out of nature, drags
with it so many sceptical and impious notions.
* # # # Without it your Epicureans, Hobbists,
and the like, have not even the shadow of a
pretence, but become the most cheap and easy
triumph in the world.”
Not satisfied with addressing these abstract
speculations to the learned, Berkeley conceived
them to be of such moment to human happiness,
that he resolved to bring them, if possible, with¬
in the reach of a wider circle of readers, by
throwing them into the more popular and amu¬
sing form of dialogues.4 The skill with which
WaS 0nl7 t'ren*y-fiVe! ^ ''tol il ^ “ Ms
2 See Philosophical Essays.
and fthe ®ameuchu"ch (Arthur Colller’ author of a Demonstration of the Non-existence
SaphTS SSnfrt/1 • T°?Ahal“et !:;th S.tl11 Feater inJustice- ^ to be found in any of our Bio-
Ss£s thfsamp t?„P0 ri ' t’ ^ Pullllcatlon !s some years posterior to that of Norris, and therefore it does not
the same deoree with the ’ i >Ut ^ if- far suP®nar to 11 m logical closeness and precision, and is not obscured to
of Idealism.” Indeed wben^nm 'eoosy'vlllcP^oms (after the example of Malebranche) connected with the scheme
than in comnosition and °t 1,^ie wiling8 of Berkeley himself, it yields to them less in force of argument,
Truth being a Demonstratim oP Collier's book is “ Clavis Universalis, or a New Inquiry after
Robert Slg at the Sre ^ ^ 4rthuJ Collier, Rector of Langford Magna, near Sarum. (Lond. printed for
lier to his work’is from MalebrJ!?agTSt ? ^nstan’s Church, Fleet Street, 1713.)’’ The motto prefixed by Col-
“ Vulgi assensus et annmhaHn ,C e’ -1S c^iaraclensllcal Poll1 °f the English and French Inquirer after Truth.
—(Match. Be Inquir. Lib. fi? p.^g^Se^Note^ Certum argumentum falsitatis isthis opinionis cui assentitur.”
aspire tono^fighe/merit than^Fi^nf fh ^ MinuteFhilosoPhf i for a8 to the dialogues between Hylas and PhUonovs, they
4 and “ COmPendi°US ^ ^
DISSERTATION FIRST.
169
he has executed this very difficult and unpro¬
mising task cannot be too much admired. The
characters of his speakers are strongly marked
and happily contrasted; the illustrations exhibit
a singular combination of logical subtlety and of
poetical invention; and the style, while it every¬
where abounds with the rich, yet sober colour¬
ings of the author’s fancy, is perhaps superior,
in point of purity and of grammatical correct¬
ness, to any English composition of an earlier
date.1
The impression produced in England by
Berkeley’s Idealism was not so great as might
have been expected; but the novelty of his pa¬
radoxes attracted very powerfully the attention
of a set of young men who were then prose¬
cuting their studies at Edinburgh, and who
formed themselves into a society for the express
purpose of soliciting from the author an expla¬
nation of some parts of his theory which seemed
to them obscurely or equivocally expressed. To
this correspondence the amiable and excellent
prelate appears to have given every encourage¬
ment ; and I have been told by the best autho¬
rity, that he was accustomed to say, that his
reasonings had been nowhere better understood
than by this club of young Scotsmen. ® The in¬
genious Dr Wallace, author of the Discourse on
the Numbers of Mankind, was one of the leading
members; and with him were associated several
other individuals whose names are now well
known and honourably distinguished in the
learned world. Mr Hume’s Treatise of Human
Nature, which was published in 1739, affords
sufficient evidence of the deep impression which
Berkeley’s writings had left upon his mind; and
to this juvenile essay of Mr Hume’s may be
traced the origin of the most important meta¬
physical works which Scotland has since pro¬
duced.
It is not, however, my intention to prosecute
farther, at present, the history of Scottish phi¬
losophy. The subject may be more convenient¬
ly, and I hope advantageously resumed, after a
slight review of the speculations of some Eng¬
lish and French writers, who, while they pro¬
fessed a general acquiescence in the doctrines of
Locke, have attempted to modify his funda¬
mental principles in a manner totally incon¬
sistent with the views of their master. The re¬
marks which I mean to offer on the modern
French school will afford me, at the same time,
a convenient opportunity of introducing some
strictures on the metaphysical systems which
have of late prevailed in other parts of the Con¬
tinent.
SECTION V.
Hartleian School.
The English writers to whom I have alluded
m the last paragraph, I shall distinguish by the
title of Dr Hartley’s School; for although I by
no means consider this person as the first author
of any of the theories commonly ascribed to him
(the seeds of all of them having been previously
, sown in the university where he was educated),
it was nevertheless reserved for him to combine
them together, and to exhibit them to the world
in the imposing form of a system.
Among the immediate predecessors of Hart¬
ley, Dr Law, afterwards Bishop of Carlisle,
1 Dr Warton, after bestowing high praise on the Minute Philosopher, excepts from his encomium “ those passages in the
tourth dialogue, where the author has introduced his fanciful and whimsical opinions about vision.”—(Essay on the Writings
and Genius of Pope, Vol. II. p. 264.) If I were called on to point out the most ingenious and original part of the whole
work, it would be the argument contained in the passages here so contemptuously alluded to by this learned and (on all
questions of taste) most respectable Critic.
2 The authority I here allude to is that of my old friend and preceptor, Dr John Stevenson, who was himself a member
ol the Rankenian Club, and who was accustomed for many years to mention this fact in his Academical Prelections.
DISS. I. PART II. Y
170
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
seems to have been chiefly instrumental in pre¬
paring the way for a schism among Locke’s dis¬
ciples. The name of Law was first known to
the public by an excellent translation, accom¬
panied by many learned, and some very judi¬
cious notes, of Archbishop King’s work on the
Origin of Evil; a work of which the great ob¬
ject was to combat the Optimism of Leibnitz,
and the Manicheism imputed to Bayle. In
making this work more generally known, the
translator certainly rendered a most acceptable
and important service to the world, and, indeed,
it is upon this ground that his best claim to li¬
terary distinction is still founded.1 In his own
original speculations, he is weak, paradoxical,
and oracular;2 affecting, on all occasions, the
most profound veneration for the opinions of
Locke, but much more apt to attach himself to
the errors and oversights of that great man,
than to enter into the general spirit of his meta¬
physical philosophy.
To this translation, Dr Law prefixed a Dis¬
sertation concerning the Fundamental Principle
of Virtue, by the Reverend Mr Gay: a per¬
formance of considerable ingenuity, but which
would now be entitled to little notice, were it
not for the influence it appears to have had in
suggesting to Dr Hartley the possibility of ac¬
counting for all our intellectual pleasures and
pains, by the single principle of the Association
of Ideas. We are informed by Dr Hartley
himself, that it was in consequence of hearing
some account of the contents of this dissertation,
he was first led to engage in those inquiries
which produced his celebrated Theory of Human
Nature.
The other principle on which this theory pro¬
ceeds (that of the vibrations and vibratiuncles
in the medullary substance of the brain) is also
of Cambridge origin. It occurs in the form of
a query in Sir Isaac Newton’s Optics; and a
distinct allusion to it, as a principle likely to
throw new light on the phenomena of mind, is
to be found in the concluding sentence of Smith’s
Harmonies.
Very nearly about the time when Hartley’s
Theory appeared, Charles Bonnet of Geneva
published some speculations of his own, pro¬
ceeding almost exactly on the same assumptions.
Both writers speak of vibrations (ebranlemens)
in the nerves; and both of them have recourse
to a subtle and elastic ether, co-operating with
the nerves in carrying on the communication
between soul and body.5 This fluid Bonnet
conceived to be contained in the nerves, in a
manner analogous to that in which the electric
fluid is contained in the solid bodies which con¬
duct it; differing in this respect from the Car¬
tesians as well as from the ancient physiologists,
who considered the nerves as hollow tubes or
pipes, within which the animal spirits were in¬
cluded. It is to this elastic ether that Bonnet
ascribes the vibrations of which he supposes the
nerves to be susceptible; for the nerves them¬
selves (he justly observes) have no resemblance
to the stretched cords of a musical instrument.4
1 King’s argument in proof of the prevalence in this world, both' of Natural and Moral Good, over the corresponding
Evils, has been much and deservedly admired ; nor are Law’s Notes upon this head entitled to less praise. Indeed, it is
in this part of the work that both the author and his commentator appear, in my opinion, to the greatest advantage.'
2 As instances of this I need only refer to the first and third of his Notes on King; the former of which relates to the
word substance; and the latter to the dispute between Clarke and Leibnitz concerning space. His reasonings on both sub¬
jects are obscured by an affected use of hard and unmeaning words, ill becoming so devoted an admirer of Locke. The
same remark may be extended to an Inquiry into the Ideas of Space and Time, published by Dr Law in 1734.
The result of Law’s speculations on Space and Time is thus stated by himself: “ That our ideas of them do not imply
any external ideatum or objective reality; that these ideas (as well as those of infinity and number) are universal or abstract
ideas, existing under that formality no where but in the mind ; nor affording a proof of any thing, but of the power which
the mind has to form them.”—(Law’s Trans, of King, p. 7- 4th edit.) This language, as we shall afterwards see, approaches
very nearly to that lately introduced by Kant. Dr Law’s favourite author might have cautioned him against such jargon.
(See Essay on the Human Understanding, Book II. Chap. xiii. § 17, 18.)
The absurd application of the scholastic word substance to empty space; an absurdity in which the powerful mind of
Gravesande acquiesced many years after the publication of the Essay on- Human Understanding, has probably contributed
not a little to force some authors into the opposite extreme of maintaining, with Leibnitz and Dr Law, that our idea of
space does not imply any external ideatum or objective reality. Gravesande’s words are these : “ Substantiae sunt aut
cogitantes, aut non cogitantes; cogitantes duas novimus, Deum et Mentem nostram : prceter has et alias dari in dubium
non revocamus. Duae etiam substantiae, quae non cogitant, nobis notae sunt Spatium et Corpus.” Gravesande, Introi.
ad Philosophiam, § 19.
s Essai Analytique de I'Ame, Chap. v. See also the additional notes on the first chapter of the seventh part of the Con¬
templation de la Nature.
Mais les nerfs sont mous, ils ne sont point tendus comme les cordes d’un instrument; les objets y exciteroient-ils done
DISSERTATION FIRST.
171
Hartley’s Theory differs in one respect from
this, as he speaks of vibrations and vibratiuncles
in the medullary substance of the brain and
nerves. He agrees, however, with Bonnet, in
thinking, that to these vibrations in the nerves
the co-operation of the ether is essentially ne¬
cessary ; and, therefore, at bottom the two hy¬
potheses may be regarded as in substance the
same. As to the trifling shade of difference be¬
tween them, the advantage seems to me to be
in favour of Bonnet.
Nor was it only ill their Physiological Theo¬
ries concerning the nature of the union between
soul and body, that these two philosophers
agreed. On all the great articles of metaphy¬
sical theology, the coincidence between their
conclusions is truly astonishing. Both held the
doctrine of Necessity in its fullest extent; and
both combined with it a vein of mystical devo¬
tion, setting at defiance the creeds of all esta¬
blished churches. The intentions of both are
allowed, by those who best knew them, to have
been eminently pure and worthy; but it cannot
be said of either, that his metaphysical writings
have contributed much to the instruction or to
the improvement of the public. On the con¬
trary, they have been instrumental in spreading
a set of speculative tenets very nearly allied to
that sentimental and fanatical modification of
Spinozism, which, for many years past, has pre¬
vailed so much, and produced such mischievous
effects in some parts of Germany.1
But it is chiefly by his application of the asso¬
ciating principle to account for all the mental
phenomena, that Hartley is known to the world;
and upon this I have nothing to add to what I
have already stated in another work.—(Phil.
Essays, Essay IV.)—His Theory seems to be al¬
ready fast passing into oblivion; the temporary
popularity which it enjoyed in this country
having, in a great measure, ceased with the
life of its zealous and indefatigable apostle Dr
Priestley.2
It would be unfair, however, to the translator
of Archbishop King, to identify his opinions
with those of Hartley and Priestley. The zeal
with which he contends for man’s free agency
is sufficient, of itself, to draw a strong line of
distinction between his Ethical System and
theirs.—(See his Notes on King, passim.)—But
I must be allowed to say of him, that the gene¬
ral scope of his writings tends, in common with
that of the two other metaphysicians, to depre¬
ciate the evidences of Natural Religion, and
more especially to depreciate the evidences which
the light of nature affords of a life to come ;■—
les vibrations analogues a celle d’une corde pincee ? Ces vibrations se communiqueroient-elles a I’instant au siege de fame ?
La chose paroit difficile a conqevoir. Mais si Ton admet dans les nerfs un fluide dont la subtilite et I’elasticite approche de
celle de la lumiere ou de 1’ether, on expliquera facilement par le secours de ce fluide, et la celeritd avec laquelle les impres¬
sions se communiquent a 1’ame, et celle avec laquelle 1’ame execute tant d’operations differentes.”—fEssai Anal. Chap, v.)
“ Au reste, les physiologistes qui avoient cru que les filets nerveux etoient solides, avoient cede a des apparences trom-
peuses. Ils vouloient d’auleurs faire osciller les nerfs pour rendre raison des sensations, et les^ nerfs ne peuvent osciller.
Ils sont mous, et nullement dlastiques. Un nerf coupd ne se retire point. C’est le fluide invisible que les nerfs renfer-
ment, qui est doud de cette elasticite qu’on leur attribuoit, et d’une plus grande elasticite encore.”—( Contemp. de la Nature,
VII. Partie, Chap. i. Note at the end of the chapter.) _ .
M. Quesnai, the celebrated author of the Economical System has expressed himself to the same purpose concerning the
supposed vibrations of the nerves: “ Plusieurs physiciens ont pense que le seul dbranlement des nerfs, cause par les objets
qui touchent les organes des corps, suffit pour occasioner le mouvement et le sentiment dans les parties ou les nerfs sont
e'branlds. Ils se representent les nerfs comme des cordes fort tendus, qu’un leger contact met en vibration dans toute leur
dtendue. Des philosophes, peu instruits en anatomie, ont pu se former un telle idee ...... Mais cette tension qu on sup¬
pose dans les nerfs, et qui les rend si susceptibles d’dbranlement et de vibration, est si grossierement imaginee qu if seroit
ridicule de s’occuper serieusement a la refuter.”—Econ. Animate, sect. 3. c. 13.) _ . .....
As this passage from Quesnai is quoted by Condillac, and sanctioned by his authority (Traite des Ammaux, Chap, m.;, it
would appear that the hypothesis which supposes the nerves to perform their functions by means of vibiations was going
fast into discredit, both among the metaphysicians and the physiologists of France, at the very time when it was beginning
to attract notice in England, in consequence of the visionary speculations of Hartley. _
1 In a letter which I received from Dr Parr, he mentions a treatise of Dr Hartley’s which appeared about a year before
the publication of his great work ; to which it was meant by the author to serve as a precursor. Of this rare treatise A had
never before heard. “ You will be astonished to hear,” says Dr Parr, “that in this book, instead of the doctime of ne¬
cessity, Hartley openly declares for the indifference of the will, as maintained by Archbishop King. V e are told y
Hartley himself that his notions upon necessity grew upon him while he was writing his observations upon man , but i
is curious (as Dr Parr remarks), that in the course of a year, his opinions on so very essential a point should have under¬
gone a complete change. ,. „ _ . . ,
, 2 Dr Priestley’s opinion of the merits of Hartley’s work is thus stated by himselfSomething was done m this field of
knowledge by Descartes, very much by Mr Locke, but most of all by Dr Hartley, who has thrown more useful light upon
the theory of the mind, than Newton did upon the theory of the natural world.”—f Remarks on Reid, Beattie, and Oswald,
P* 2. London, 1774.
172
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
<c a doctrine equally necessary to comfort the
weakness, and to support our lofty ideas of the
grandeur of human nature;”1 and of which it
seems hard to confine exclusively the knowledge
to that portion of mankind who have been fa¬
voured with the light of Revelation. The in¬
fluence of the same fundamental error, arising,
too, from the same mistaken idea, of thus
strengthening the cause of Christianity, may he
traced in various passages of the posthumous
work of the late Bishop of Llandaff. It is won¬
derful that the reasonings of Clarke and of But¬
ler did not teach these eminent men a sounder
and more consistent logic; or, at least, open
their eyes to the inevitable consequences of the
rash concessions which they made to their ad¬
versaries. 3
Among the disciples of Law, one illustrious
exception to these remarks occurs in Br Paley,
whose treatise on Natural Theology is unques¬
tionably the most instructive as well as inte¬
resting publication on that subject which has
appeared in our times. As the book was in¬
tended for popular use, the author has wisely
avoided, as much as possible, all metaphysical
discussions; hut I do not know that there exists
any other work where the argument from final
causes is placed in so great a variety of pleasing
and striking points of view.
SECTION VI.
\
Condillac, and other Trench Metaphysicians of a later date.
While Hartley and Bonnet were indulging
their imagination in theorising concerning the
nature of the union between soul and body,
Condillac was attempting to draw the attention
of his countrymen to the method of studying
the phenomena of Mind recommended and ex¬
emplified by Locke.3 Of the vanity of expect¬
ing to illustrate, by physiological conjectures,
1 Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments, 6th ed. Yol. I. pp. 325, 326.
Dr Law’s doctrine of the sleep of the soul, to which his high’station in the church could not fail to add much weight in
w'lnlf u5nt °f 1S- 1 be.,e/e’ u^versally adopted by the followers of Hartley and Priestley ; the theory of vi-
from the body eVU 6n ^ inconsisten^ wlt l supposition of the soul’s being able to exercise her powers in a separate state
i aVaU 'yt0 argument with Dr Law or his followers, it is sufficient here to mention, as an histori-
I* °lder hghtS °f tbe Engiish church, from Hooker downwards. “ All Religion,” says
tion< nf fbul 1 select as an unexceptionable organ of their common sentiments, “ is founded on right no-
sitmifv nothin to - eC lu08’ t iat Ulvluc Revelation itself does suppose these for its foundations; and can
of thm whih L roln|inH »S reey J?\ uW,nu andbelleved’ s.° that the principles of natural religion are the foundation
moral e-ood and evil 'iro fivod ei™°n 4b) khere is an mtrinsical good and evil in things, and the reasons and respects of
will the vi ilo of in nr l iL> immutaDle, eternal and indispensable. Nor do they speak safely who make the Divine
but that all gihd ^ CVl1, T 11 ,thei:f lwere nothing good or evil in its own nature antecedently to the will of God;
ffience to the SatfrU d°tt S0°doand evd be,caus? t}od wills them to be so.”_(Sermon 68.) “ Natural religion is obe-
lation doth dictate to i ic’ an tu6 hp1' or,mancn of such duties as natural light, without any express and supernatural reve-
auires, of all manbin 1 ^ Th ies® 16 at the bottom of all religion, and are the great fundamental duties which God re-
and written mon o^’h ^ ^ SUVeSt ^ m°St nCred °,f aI1 °ther laws ; those which God bath rivetted in our souls
nernS ohEtion hoc Vn" 4hese are'vha^ ,we cal1. moral duties, and most valued by God, which are of eternal and
are the foundation f ecause they do naturally oblige, without any particular and express revelation from God; and these
SermonsTs! 49 °f reVealed and mstltuted rehgion; and all revealed religion does suppose them and build upon them.”-
taphvskTan7 d^riZthVl^6 ?nacco™Ktable’ thatTno notice should have been taken, in this Dissertation, of any French me-
leave to quote the words f m between Malebranche and Condillac. As an apology for this apparent omission, I beg
STtlynSedto acquainted with the history of French literature and philosophy, and emi-
S?nith fn a • aPP^ciate the merits of those who have contributed to their progress. “ If we except,” says Mr Adam
S’aSirefatTriinalK “ ^ “ tH? ^tati«ns «f De3cartes’ 1 of Lthing in the works of fS writers
more than the meditation f of T*0™ S ^ metaPbysics.; b,r the philosophy of Regius and that of Malebranche are nothing
Lord Shaftesbury Dr Rutlpf nfru f Unf°id^ WTTh T™ art and rebnement- But Hobbes, Locke, Dr Matideville,
have tried to be orimnal -n lpa i • aT e’ a”d ^rrJlUtcbeSOn’ eacb in b^s own system, all different and all incompatible,
0inal, at least in some points. They have attempted to add something to the fund of observations col-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
173
the manner in which the intercourse between
the thinking principle and the external world is
carried on, no philosopher seems ever to have
been more completely aware; and, accordingly,
he confines himself strictly, in all his researches
concerning this intercourse, to an examination
of the general laws by which it is regulated.
There is, at the same time, a remarkable coin¬
cidence between some of his views and those of
the other two writers. All of the three, while
they profess the highest veneration for Locke,
have abandoned his account of the origin of our
ideas for that of Gassendi; and, by doing so,
have, with the best intentions, furnished arms
against those principles which it was their com¬
mon aim to establish in the world.1 It is much
to be regretted, that by far the greater part of
those French writers who have since speculated
about the human mind, have acquired the whole
of their knowledge of Locke’s philosophy through
this mistaken comment upon its fundamental
principle. On this subject I have already ex¬
hausted all that I have to offer on the effect of
Condillac’s writings; and I flatter myself have
sufficiently shown how widely his commentary
differs from the text of his author. It is this
commentary, however, which is now almost
universally received on the Continent as the
doctrine of Locke, and which may justly be re¬
garded as the sheet-anchor of those systems
which are commonly stigmatised in England
with the appellation of French philosophy. Had
Condillac been sufficiently aware of the conse¬
quences which have been deduced (and I must
add logically deduced) from his account of the
origin of our knowledge, I am, persuaded, from
his known candour and love of truth, that he
would have been eager to acknowledge and to
retract his error.
In this apparent simplification and generali¬
sation of Locke’s doctrine, there is, it must be
acknowledged, something, at first sight, ex¬
tremely seducing. It relieves the mind from
the painful exercise of abstracted reflection, and
amuses it with analogy and metaphor when it
looked only for the severity of logical discus¬
sion. The clearness and simplicity of Condil¬
lac’s style add to the force of this illusion, and
flatter the reader with an agreeable idea of the
powers of his own understanding, when he finds
himself so easily conducted through the darkest
labyrinths of metaphysical science. It is to this
cause I would chiefly ascribe the great popula¬
rity of his works. They may be read with as
little exertion of thought as a history or a novel;
and it is only when we shut the book, and at ¬
tempt to express in our own words the sub¬
stance of what we have gained, that we have the
mortification to see our supposed acquisitions
vanish into air.
The philosophy of Condillac was, in a more
peculiar manner, suited to the taste of his own
country, where (according to Mad. de Stael)
<£ few read a book but with a view to talk of
it.”2 Among such a people, speculations which
are addressed to the power of reflection can
never expect to acquire the same popularity
with theories expressed in a metaphorical lan-
lected by their predecessors, and already the common property of mankind. This branch of science, which the English
themselves neglect at present, appears to have been recently transported into France. I discover some traces of it not only
in the Encycloptdie, but in the Theory of Agreeable Sensations, by M. de Pouilly; and much more in the late discourse of M.
Itousseau, On the Origin and Foundation of the Inequality of Ranks among Men?'
Although I perfectly agree with Mr Smith in his general remark on the sterility of invention among the h rench meta¬
physicians posterior to Descartes, when compared to those of England, I cannot pass over the foregoing quotation with¬
out expressing my surprise, ls<, To find the name of Malebranche (one of the highest in modern philosophy) degraded to
a level with that of Regius; and, 2dly, To observe Mr Smith’s silence with respect to Buffier and Condillac, while he men¬
tions the author of the Theory of Agreeable Sensations as a metaphysician of original genius. Of the merits of Condillac,
whose most important works were published several years before this paper of Mr Smith’s, I am about to speak in the text;
and those of Buffier I shall have occasion to mention in a subsequent part of this discourse. In the mean time, I shall only
say of him, that I regard him as one of the most original as well as sound philosophers of whom the eighteenth century has
to boast.
t 1 Condillac’s earliest work appeared three years before the publication of Hartley’s Theory. It is entitled, “ Essaisur
l Origine des Connoissances Humaines. Ouvrage oil Von reduit d un seul principe tout ce qui concerne l entendement hiimain. This
seul principc is the association of ideas. The account which both authors give of the transformation of sensations into ideas
is substantially the same.
8 “En France, on ne lit guere un ouvrage que pour en parler.”—(Allemagne. Tom. I. p. 292.) The same remark, I am
much afraid, is becoming daily more and more applicable to our own island.
174
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
guagc, and constantly recalling to the fancy the
impressions of the external senses. The state
of society in France, accordingly, is singularly
unfavourable to the inductive philosophy of the
human mind; and of this truth no proof more
decisive can he produced, than the admiration
with which the metaphysical writings of Con¬
dillac have been so long regarded.
On the other hand, it cannot he denied that
Condillac has, in many instances, been eminent¬
ly successful, both in observing and describing
the mental phenomena; but, in such cases, he
commonly follows Locke as his guide; and,
wherever he trusts to his own judgment, he
seldom fails to wander from his way. The best
part of his works relates to the action and re¬
action of thought and language on each other, a
subject which had been previously very pro¬
foundly treated by Locke, but which Condillac
has had the merit of placing in many new and
happy points of view. In various cases, his
conclusions are pushed too far, and in others
are expressed without due precision; hut, on
the whole, they form a most valuable accession
to this important branch of logic; and (what
not a little enhances their value) they have been
instrumental in recommending the subject to
the attention of other inquirers, still better qua¬
lified than their author to do it justice.
In the speculation, too, concerning the origin
and the theoretical history of language, Condil¬
lac was one of the first who made any consider¬
able advances; nor does it reflect any discredit
on his ingenuity, that he has left some of the
principal difficulties connected with the inquiry
very imperfectly explained. The same subject
was soon after taken up by Mr Smith, who, I
think, it must be owned, has rather slurred over
these difficulties, than attempted to remove
them; an omission on his part the more re¬
markable, as a very specious and puzzling ob¬
jection had been recently stated by Rousseau,
not only to the theory of Condillac, but to all
speculations which have for their object the so¬
lution of the same problem. “ If language”
(says Rousseau) “ be the result of human con¬
vention, and if words be essential to the exer¬
cise of thought, language would appear to be
necessary for the invention of language.”1—
“ But” (continues the same author) “ when, by
means which I cannot conceive, our new gram¬
marians began to extend their ideas, and to
generalise their words, their ignorance must
have confined them within very narrow bounds.
 How, for example, could they ima¬
gine or comprehend such words as matter, mind,
substance, mode, figure, motion, since our phi¬
losophers, who have so long made use of them,
scarcely understand them, and since the ideas
attached to them, being purely metaphysical,
can have no model in nature ?”
<{ I stop at these first steps” (continues Rous¬
seau), “ and in treat my judges to pause, and
consider the distance between the easiest part of
language, the invention of physical substantives,
and the power of expressing all the thoughts of
man, so as to speak in public, and influence so¬
ciety. I entreat them to reflect upon the time
and knowledge it must have required to dis¬
cover numbers, abstract words, aorists, and all
the tenses of verbs, particles, syntax, the art ot
connecting propositions and arguments, and
how to form the whole logic of discourse. As
for myself, alarmed at these multiplying diffi¬
culties, and convinced of the almost demon¬
strable impossibility of language having been
formed and established by means merely human,
I leave to others the discussion of the problem,
4 Whether a society already formed was more
necessary for the institution of language, or a
language already invented for the establishment
of society ?’ ”* ''' ■
Of the various difficulties here enumerated,
that mentioned by Rousseau, in the last sentence,
was plainly considered by him as the greatest
of all; or rather as comprehending under it all
4 1 That men never could have invented an artificial language, if they had not possessed a natural language, is an observa-
tion of Dr Iteid’s; and it is this indisputable and self-evident truth which gives to Rousseau’s remark that imposing plau¬
sibility, which, at first sight, dazzles and perplexes the judgment. I by no means say, that the former proposition afibrds
a key to all the difficulties suggested by the latter ; but it advances us at least one important step towards their solution.
2 Discours sur VOrigine et les Fondemens de VIncgalitc parmi les Hommes.
* DISSERTATION FIRST.
175
the rest. But this difficulty arises merely from
his own peculiar and paradoxical theory about
the artificial origin of society; a theory which
needs no refutation, but the short and luminous
aphorism of Montesquieu, that C£ man is horn in
society, and there he remains.’’ The other dif¬
ficulties touched upon by Rousseau, in the for¬
mer part of this quotation, are much more se¬
rious, and have never yet been removed in a
manner completely satisfactory: And hence
some very ingenious writers have been led to
conclude, that language could not possibly have
been the work of human invention. This ar¬
gument has been lately urged with much acute¬
ness and plausibility by Dr Magee of Dublin,
and by M. de Bonald of Paris.1 It may, how¬
ever, be reasonably questioned, if these philoso¬
phers would not have reasoned more logically,
had they contented themselves with merely af¬
firming, that the problem has not yet been solv¬
ed, without going so far as to pronounce it to
be absolutely insolvable. For my own part,
when I consider its extreme difficulty, and the
short space of time during which it has engaged
the attention of the learned, I am more dispos¬
ed to wonder at the steps which have been al¬
ready gained in the research, than at the num¬
ber of desiderata which remain to employ the
ingenuity of our successors. It is justly re¬
marked by Dr Ferguson, that, “ when language
has attained to that perfection to which it ar¬
rives in the progress of society, the speculative
mind, in comparing the first and the last stages
of the progress, feels the same sort of amaze¬
ment with a traveller, who, after rising insen¬
sibly on the slope of a hill, comes to look down
from a precipice, to the summit of which he
scarcely believes he could have ascended with¬
out supernatural aid.”2
With respect to some of the difficulties point¬
ed out by Rousseau and his commentators, it
may be here remarked in passing (and the ob¬
servation is equally applicable to various pas¬
sages in Mr Smith’s dissertation on the same
subject), that the difficulty of explaining the
theory of any of our intellectual operations af¬
fords no proof of any difficulty in applying that
operation to its proper practical purpose; nor
is the difficulty of explaining the metaphysical
nature of any part of speech a proof, that, in its
first origin, it implied any extraordinary effort
of intellectual capacity. How many metaphy¬
sical difficulties might be raised about the ma¬
thematical notion of a line ? And yet this notion
is perfectly comprehended by every peasant,
when he speaks of the distance between two
places; or of the length, breadth, or height of
his cottage. In like manner, although it may
be difficult to give a satisfactory account of the
origin and import of such words as of or fiy, we
ought not to conclude, that the invention of
them implied any metaphysical knowledge in
1 The same theory has been extended to the art of writing; but if this art was first taught to man by an express reve¬
lation from Heaven, what account can be given of its present state in the great empire of China ? Is the mode of writing
practised there of divine or of human origin ?
2 Principles of Moral and Political Science, Vol. I. p. 43. Edin. 1792. To this observation may be added, by way of com¬
ment, the following reflections of one of the most learned prelates of the English church:—“ Man, we are told, had a lan¬
guage from the beginning; for he conversed with God, and gave to every animal its particular name. But how came man
by language ? He must either have had it from inspiration, ready formed from his Creator, or have derived it by the exer¬
tion of those faculties of the mind, which were implanted in him as a rational creature, from natural and external objects
with which he was surrounded. Scripture is silent on the means by which it was acquired. We are not, therefore, war¬
ranted to affirm, that it was received by inspiration, and there is no internal evidence in language to lead us to such y sup¬
position. On this side, then, of the question, we have nothing but uncertainty; but on a subject, the causes of which are
so remote, nothing is more convenient than to refer them to inspiration, and to recur to that easy and comprehensive argu¬
ment,
Ails S’ (riXitera fiovXtl’ . .
that is, man enjoyed the great privilege of speech, which distinguished him at first, and still continues to distinguish him
as a rational creature, so eminently from the brute creation, without exerting those reasoning faculties, by which he was m
otter respects enabled to raise himself so much above their level. Inspiration, then, seems to have been an argument
adopted and made necessary by the difficulty of accounting for it otherwise; and the name of inspiration carries wfrh it an
awfulness, which forbids the unhallowed approach of inquisitive discussion.”—(Essay on the Study of Antiquities, by Dr Bur¬
gess, 2d edit. Oxford, 1782. Pp 85, 86.) , , „
It is farther remarked very sagaciously, and I think very decisively, by the same author, that the supposition of man
having received a language ready formed from his Creator, is actually inconsistent with the evidence of the origin ot our
ideas, which exists in language. For, as the origin of our ideas is to be traced in the words through which the ideas are
conveyed, so the origin oflanguage is referable to the source from whence our (frstj ideas are derived, namely, natural and
external objects.”—pp. 83, 84.)
176
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the individual who first employed them.1 Their
import, we see, is fully understood by children
of three or four years of age.
In this view of the History of Language I
have been anticipated by Dr'Ferguson. “ Parts
of speech” (says this profound and original
writer), which, in speculation, cost the gram¬
marian so much study, are, in practice, familiar
to the vulgar. The rudest tribes, even the idiot
and the insane, are possessed of them. They
are soonest learned in childhood, insomuch that
we must suppose human nature, in its lowest
state, competent to the use of them ; and, with¬
out the intervention of uncommon genius, man¬
kind, in a succession of ages, qualified to ac¬
complish in detail this amazing fabric of lan¬
guage, which, when raised to its height, appears
so much above what could be ascribed to any
simultaneous effort of the most sublime and
comprehensive abilities.”*
It is, however, less in tracing the first rudi¬
ments of speech, than in some collateral inqui¬
ries concerning the genius of different languages,
that Condillac’s ingenuity appears to advantage.
Some of his observations, in particular, on the
connection of natural signs with the growth of
a systematical prosody, and on the imitative arts
of the Greeks and Romans, as distinguished
from those of the moderns, are new and cu¬
rious ; and are enlivened with a mixture of his¬
torical illustration, and of critical discussion,
seldom to be met with among metaphysical
writers.
But through all his researches, the radical
error may, more or less, be traced, which lies
at the bottom of his system;3 and hence it is,
1 In this remark I had an eye to the following passage in Mr Smith’s dissertation“ It is worth while to observe, that
those prepositions, which, in modern languages, hold the place of the ancient cases, are, of all others, the most general and
abstract, and metaphysical; and, of consequence, would probably be the last invented. Ask any man of common acuteness, what
relation is expressed by the preposition above ? He will readily answer, that of superiority. By the preposition below ? He
will as quickly reply, that-of inferiority. But ask him what relation is expressed by the preposition of? and, if he has not
beforehand employed his thoughts a good deal upon these subjects, you may safely allow him a week to consider of his
answer.”
2 The following judicious reflections, with which M Itaynouard concludes the introduction to his Elemens de la Langue
Bomane, may serve to illustrate some of the above observations. The modification of an existing language is, I acknow¬
ledge, a thing much less wonderful than the formation of a language entirely new ; but the processes of thought, it is rea-
sonable to think, are, in both cases, of the same kind; and the consideration of the one is at least a step gained towards the
elucidation of the other.
“ La langue Romane'est peut-etre la seule a la formation de laquelle il soit permis de remonter ainsi, pour decouvrir et
expliquer le secret de son industrieux mecanisme. . . . J’ose dire que 1’esprit philosophique, consulte sur le choix des
moyens qui devraient epargner a Tignorance beaucoup d’etudes penibles et fastidieux, n’eut pas ete aussi heureux quel’ig-
norance elle-meme; il est vrai qu’elle avoit deux grands maitres ; la Necessite et le Tems.
“ En considerant a quelle epoque d’ignorance et de barbarie s’est forme et perfectionne ce nouvel ididme, d’apres des
principes indiquds seulement par 1’analogie et 1’euphonic, on se dira peut-etre comme je me le suis dit; I’homme porte en
soi-meme les principes d’une logique naturelle, d’un instinct regulateur, que nous admirons quelquefois dans les enfans.
Oui, la Providence nous a dotd de la faculte indestructible et des moyens ingenieux d’exprimer, de communiquer, d’eterni-
ser par la parole, et par les signes permanens oil elle se reproduit, cette pensee qui est 1’un de nos plus beaux attributs, et
qui nous distingue si eminemment et si avantageusement dans Pordre de la creation.-”—(Elemens de la Grammaire de la Langue
Bomane avant PAn. 1000. Pp. 104, 105. A Paris, 1816.)
In the theoretical history of language, it is more than probable, that some steps will remain to exercise the ingenuity of
our latest posterity. Nor will this appear surprising, when we consider how impossible it is for us to judge, from our own
experience, ot the intellectual processes which pass in the minds of savages. Some instincts, we know, possessed both by them
and. by infants (that ot imitation, for example, and the use of natural signs), disappear in by far the greater number of in¬
dividuals, almost entirely in the maturity of their reason. It does not seem at all improbable, that other instincts connect¬
ed with the invention ot speech, may be confined to that state of the intellectual powers which requires their guidance:
nor is. it. quite impossible, that some latent capacities of the understanding may be evolved by the pressure of necessity.
The facility with which infants surmount so many grammatical and metaphysical difficulties, seems to me to add much
weight to these conjectures.
In tracing the first steps of the invention of language, it ought never to be forgotten, that we undertake a task more si¬
milar than might at first be supposed, to that of tracing the first operations of the infant mind. In both cases, we are apt
to attempt an explanation from reason alone, of what requires the co-operation of very different principles. To trace the
theoretical history of geometry, in which we know for certain, that all the transitions have depended on reasoning alone, is
a problem which has not yet been completely solved. Nor has even any satisfactory account been hitherto given of the
experimental steps by which men were gradually led to the use of iron. And yet how simple are these problems, when
Compared with that relating to the origin and progress of language !
2 A remarkable instance of this occurs in that part of Condillac’s Cours d'Etude, where he treats of the art of writing:
, ' ous savez. Monseigneur, comment les memes noms ont ete transporters des objets qui tombent sous les sens a ceux qui les
ecnappent. Vous avez remarque, qu’il y en a qui sont encore en usage dans 1’un et 1’autre acceptation, et qu’il y en a qui
Sont devenus les noms propres des choses, dont ils avoient d’abord ete les signes figures.
“ Les premiers, tel que \e mouvement de Tame, son penchant, sa Kflexion, donnent un corps h des choses qui n’en ont pas.
Les seconds, tels que la pensee, la volonte, le desir, ne peignent plus rien, et laissent aux id des abstraites cette spiritualite
qui les derobe aux sens. Mais si le langage doit etre I’image de nos pensees, on a perdu beaucoup, lorsqu’ oubliant la pre-
4
DISSERTATION FIRST.
177
that, with all his skill as a writer, he never ele¬
vates the imagination, or touches the heart.
That he wrote with the best intentions, we have
satisfactory evidence; and yet hardly a philo¬
sopher can be named, whose theories have had
more influence in misleading the opinions of his
contemporaries.1 In France, he very early
attained to a rank and authority not inferior to
those which have been so long and so deserved¬
ly assigned to Locke in England; and even in
this country, his works have been more gene¬
rally read and admired, than those of any fo¬
reign metaphysician of an equally recent date.
The very general sketches to which I am here
obliged to confine myself, do not allow me to
take notice of various contributions to metaphy¬
sical science, which are to be collected from
writers professedly intent upon other subjects.
I must not, however, pass over in silence the
name of Buflbn, who, in the midst of those
magnificent views of external nature, which
the peculiar character of his eloquence fitted
him so admirably to delineate, has frequently
indulged himself in ingenious discussions con¬
cerning the faculties both of men and of brutes.
His subject, indeed, led his attention chiefly to
man, considered as an animal; but the pecu¬
liarities which the human race exhibit in their
physical condition, and the manifest reference
which these bear to their superior rank in the
creation, unavoidably engaged him in specula¬
tions of a higher aim, and of a deeper interest.
In prosecuting these, he has been accused (and
perhaps with some justice) of ascribing too
much to the effects of bodily organisation on
the intellectual powers; but he leads his reader
in so pleasing a manner from matter to mind,
that I have no doubt he has attracted the curio¬
sity of many to metaphysical inquiries, who
would never otherwise have thought of them.
In his theories concerning the nature of the
brutes, he has been commonly considered as
leaning to the opinion of Descartes; but I can¬
not help thinking, without any good reason.
Some of his ideas on the complicated operations
of insects appear to me just and satisfactory;
and while they account for the phenomena,
without ascribing to the animal any deep or
comprehensive knowledge, are far from de¬
grading him to an insentient and unconscious
machine.
In his account of the process by which the
use of our external senses (particularly that of
sight) is acquired, Buffon has in general foliow-
miere signification des mots, on a dfface jusqu’au traits qu’ils donnoient aux idees. Toutes les langues sont en cela plusou
moins de'fectueuses, toutes aussi ont des tableaux plus ou moins conserves.”—(Cours d'Etude, Tome II. p. 212. a Parme,
1775.)
Condillac enlarges on this point at considerable length ; endeavouring to show, that whenever we lose sight of the ana¬
logical origin of a figurative word, we become insensible to one of the chief beauties of language. “ In the word examen,
for example, a Frenchman perceives only the proper name of one of our mental operations. A Roman attached to it the
same idea, and received over and above the image of weighing and balancing. The case is the same with the words dme and
anima; pensee and cogitatio.
In this view of the subject, Condillac plainly proceeded on his favourite principle, that all our notions of our mental ope¬
rations are compounded of sensible images. Whereas the fact is, that the only just notions we can form of the, powers of
the mind are obtained by abstracting from the qualities and laws of the material world. In proportion, therefore, as the
analogical origin of a figurative word disappears, it becomes a fitter instrument of metaphysical thought and reasoning.—
(See Philosophical Essays, Part I. Essay V. Chap, iii.)
1 A late writer (M. de Ronald), whose philosophical opinions, in general, agree nearly with those of La Harpe, has, how¬
ever, appreciated very differently, and, in my judgment, much more sagaciously, the merits of Condillac : “ Condillac a eu
sur (’esprit philosophique du dernier siecle, Pinfluence que-Voltaire a prise sur I’esprit religieux, et J. J. Rousseau sur les
opinions politiques. Condillac a mis de la sechdresse et de la minutie dans les esprits; Voltaire du penchant a la jaillerie
et h la frivolite ; Rousseau les a rendus chagrins et me'contens Condillac a encore plus fausse I’esprit de la
nation, parce que sa doctrine etoit enseignee dans les premieres dtudes h des jeunes gens qui n’avoient encore lu ni Rous¬
seau ni Voltaire, et que la maniere de raisonner et la direction philosophique de I’esprit s’etendent a tout.”—(Recherches
Phil. Tome I. pp. 187, 188.)
The following criticism on the supposed perspicuity of Condillac’s style is so just and philosophical, that I cannot refrain
from giving it a place here : Condillac est, ou paroit etre, clair et methodique ; mais il faut prendre garde^ que la clarte
des penseeS, comme la transparence des objets physiques, peut tenir d’un dcfaut de profondeur, et que la methode dans les
dcrits, qui suppose la patience de I’esprit, n’en prouve pas toujours la justesse; et moins encore la lecondite. II y a. aussi
une clartd de style en quelque sorte toute materielle, qui n’est pas incompatible avec I’obscurite dans les idees. Rien de
plus facile a entendre que les mots de sensations transforme.es dont Condillac s’est servi, parce que ces mots ne parlent qu a
1 imagination, qui se figure a volonte des transformations et des changemens. Mais cette transformation, appliquee aux
operations de I’esprit, 'n’est qu’un mot vide de sens; et Condillac lui-meme auroit e'te bien embarrasse' d’en dormer une
explication satisfaisante. Ce philosophe me paroit plus h^ureux dans ses appercus que dans ses demonstrations: I .a route
de la yentd semble quelquefois s’ouvrir devant lui, mais retenu par la circonspection naturelle a un esprit sans chaleur, et
intimide par la faiblesse de son propre systeme, il n’ose s’y engager.”—(Ibid. Tome I. pp. 33. 34.)
DISS. I. PART. II. z
t
178
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ed the principles of Berkeley; and, notwith¬
standing some important mistakes which have
*■ escaped him in his applications of these prin¬
ciples, I do not know that there is anywhere to
be found so pleasing or so popular an exposition
of the theory of vision. Nothing certainly was
ever more finely imagined, than the recital
which he puts into the mouth of our first pa¬
rent, of the gradual steps by which he learned
the use of his perceptive organs; and although
there are various parts of it which will not hear
the test of a rigorous examination, it is impos¬
sible to read it without sharing in that admira¬
tion, with which we are told the author himself
always regarded this favourite effusion of his
eloquence.
Nor are these the only instances in which
Buffon has discovered the powers of a metaphy¬
sician. His thoughts on probabilities (a sub¬
ject widely removed from his favourite studies)
afford a proof how strongly some metaphysical
questions had laid hold of his curiosity, and
what new lights he was qualified to throw on
them, if he had allowed them to occupy more
of his attention.1 In his observations, too, on
the peculiar nature of mathematical evidence,
he has struck into a train of the soundest think¬
ing, in which he has been very generally fol¬
lowed by our later logicians.3 Some particular
expressions in the passage I refer to are excep¬
tionable; but his remarks on what he calls
Verites de Definition are just and important;
nor do I remember any modern writer, of an
earlier date, who has touched on the same argu¬
ment. Plato, indeed, and after him Proclus,
had called the definitions of geometry Hypothe¬
ses; an expression which may he considered as
involving the doctrine which Buffon and his
successors have more fully unfolded.
What the opinions of Buffon were on those
essential questions, which were then in dispute
among the French philosophers, his writings do
not furnish the means of judging with certainty.
In his theory of Organic Molecules, and of In¬
ternal Moulds, he has been accused of entertain¬
ing views not very different from those of the
ancient atomists; nor would it perhaps he easy
to repel the charge, if we were not able to op¬
pose to this wild and unintelligible hypothesis
the noble and elevating strain, which in general
so peculiarly characterises his descriptions of
nature. The eloquence of some of the finest
passages in his works has manifestly been in¬
spired by the same sentiment which dictated to
one of his favourite authors the following just
and pathetic reflection:—4 4 Le spectacle de la
nature, si vivant, si anime pour ceux qui recon-
noissent un Dieu, est mort aux yeux de I’athee,
et dans cette grande harmonic des etres ou tout
parle de Dieu d’une voix si douce, il n’apercoit
qu’un silence eternel.”5
I have already mentioned the strong bias to¬
wards materialism which the authors of the En¬
cyclopedic derived from Condillac’s comments
upon Locke. These comments they seem to
have received entirely upon credit, without ever
being at pains to compare them with the origi¬
nal. Had D’Alembert exercised freely his own
judgment, no person was more likely to have
perceived their complete futility; and, in fact,
he has thrown out various observations which
strike at their very root. Notwithstanding,
however, these occasional glimpses of light, he
invariably reverts to the same error, and has
once and again repeated it in terms as strong as
Condillac or Gassendi.
The author who pushed this account of the
origin of our knowledge to the most extraordi¬
nary and offensive consequences, was Helvetius.
His hook, De VEsprit, is said to have been com-
1 See his Essai d'Arithmetiquc Morale.
s See the First Discourse prefixed to his Natural History, towards the end.
3 Rousseau—In a work by Herault de Sechelles (entitled Voyages a Montbar, contenant des details tres interessans sur le
caractere, la personne, et les ecrits de Buffon, Paris, 1801), a very different idea of his religious creed is given from that which
I have ascribed to him ; but, in direct opposition to this statement, we have a letter, dictated by Buffon, on his death-bed,
to Madame Necker, in return for a present of her husband’s book, On the Importance of Religious Opinions. The letter (we
are told) is in the hand-writing of Buffon’s son, who describes his father as then too weak to hold the pen.—(Melanges ex¬
traits des Manuscrits de Madame Necker. 3 Vols. Paris, 1788.)
The sublime address to the Supreme Being, with which Buffon closes his reflections on the calamities of war, seems to
breathe the very soul of Fenelon. “ Grand Dieu ! dont la seule presence soutient la nature et maintient I’harmonie des
loix de Punivers,” &c. &c. &c.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
179
posed of materials collected from the conversa¬
tions of the society in which he habitually lived;
and it has accordingly been quoted as an au¬
thentic record of the ideas then in fashion among
the wits of Paris. The unconnected and desul¬
tory composition of the work certainly furnishes
some intrinsic evidence of the truth of this
anecdote.
According to Helvetius, as all our ideas are
derived from the external senses,1 the causes of
the inferiority of the souls of brutes to those of
men, are to he sought for in the difference be¬
tween them with respect to bodily organisation.
In illustration of this remark he reasons as fol¬
lows :—
“ 1. The feet of all quadrupeds terminate ei¬
ther in horn, as those of the ox and the deer;
or in nails, as those of the dog and the wolf; or
in claws, as those of the lion and the cat. This
peculiar organisation of the feet of these animals
deprives them not only of the sense of touch,
considered as a channel of information with re¬
spect to external objects, hut also of the dexte¬
rity requisite for the practice of the mechanical
arts.
“ 2. The life of animals, in general, being of
a shorter duration than that of man, does not
permit them to make so many observations, or
to acquire so many ideas.
“ 3. Animals being better armed and better
clothed by nature than the human species, have
fewer wants, and consequently fewer motives to
stimulate or to exercise their invention. If the
voracious animals are more cunning than others,
it is because hunger, ever inventive, inspires
them with the art of stratagems to surprise their
prey.
“ 4. The lower animals compose a society
that flies from man, who, by the assistance of
weapons made by himself, is become formidable
to the strongest amongst them.
“ 5. Man is the most prolific and versatile
animal upon earth. He is horn and lives in
every climate; while many of the other animals,
as the lion, the elephant, and the rhinoceros, are
found only in a certain latitude. And the more
any species of animals capable of making obser¬
vations is multiplied, the more ideas and the
greater ingenuity is it likely to possess.
<£ But some may ask (continues Helvetius),
why monkeys, whose paws are nearly as dexte¬
rous as our hands, do not make a progress equal
to that of man ? A variety of causes (he ob¬
serves) conspire to fix them in that state of in¬
feriority in which we find them:—1. Men are
more multiplied upon the earth. 2. Among the
different species of monkeys, there are few
whose strength can be compared with that of
man; and, accordingly, they form only a fugi¬
tive society before the human race. 3. Monkeys
being frugiverous, have fewer wants, and, there¬
fore, less invention than man. 4. Their life is
shorter. And, finally, the organical structure
of their bodies keeping them, like children, in
perpetual motion, even after their desires are sa¬
tisfied, they are not susceptible of lassitude
(ennuiJ, which ought to he considered (as I
shall prove afterwards) as one of the principles
1 In combating the philosophy of Helvetius, La Harpe (whose philosophical opinions seem, on many occasions, to have
been not a little influenced by his private partialities and dislikes) exclaims loudly against the same principles to which he
had tacitly given his unqualified approbation in speaking of Condillac. On this occasion he is at pains to distinguish between
the doctrines of the two writers; asserting that Condillac considered our senses as only the occasional caus®3 our u'cas,
while Helvetius represented the former as the productive causes of the latter.—(Cours de Litterat. Tome XV. pp. 348, 349 )
But that this is by no means reconcileable with the general spirit of Condillac’s works (although perhaps some detached expres¬
sions may be selected from them admitting of such an interpretation), appears sufficiently from the passages formerly quot¬
ed. In addition to these, I beg leave to transcribe the following : “ Dans le systeme que toutes nos connoisances viennent
des sens, rien n’est plus aise que de se faire une notion exacte des idees. Car elles ne sont que des sensations ou des por¬
tions extraites de quelque sensation pour etre considerees a part; ce qui produit deux sortes d idees, les sensible^ et les
abstraites.”—(Traite des Systemes, Chap, vi.) “ Puisque nous avons vu que le souvenir n’est qu’une maniere de^sentir, c est
une consequence, que les idees intellectuelles ne different pas essentiellement des sensations memes. (Ttaite dcs Sensa¬
tions, Chap. viii. § 33.) Is not this precisely the doctrine and even the language of Helvetius ? ...
In the same passage of the Lycte, from which the above quotation is taken from La Harpe, there is a sweeping judgment
pronounced on the merits of Locke, which may serve as a specimen of the author’s competency to decide on metaphysica
questions : “ Locke a prouve autant qu’il est possible :i 1’homme, que 1’ame est une substance simple et indivisible, et par
consequent immaterielle. Cependant, il ajoute, qu’il n’oseroit affirmer que Dieu ne puisse douer la matiere de pensee.
Condillac est de son avis sur le premier article, et le combat sur le second. Je suis entierement de 1 avis de Condillac, t
tons les bans mttaphysiciens conviennent que c'est la seule inexactitude aidon puisse relever dans l ouvrage de Locke. (Cours de Littt t at.
Tome XV. p. 149.)
180
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to which the human mind owes its improve¬
ment.
.44 By combining (he adds) all these differences
between the nature of man and of beast, we may
understand why sensibility and memory, though
faculties common to man and to the lower ani¬
mals, are in the latter only sterile qualities.”1
The foregoing passage is translated literally
from a note on one of the first paragraphs of the
book De VEsprit; and in the sentence of the
text to which the note refers, the author trium¬
phantly asks, <{ Who can doubt, that if the wrist
of a man had been terminated by the hoof of a
horse, the species would still have been wander¬
ing in the forest ?”
Without attempting any examination of this
shallow and miserable theory, I shall content
myself with observing, that it is not peculiar to
the philosophers of modern France. From the
Memorabilia of Xenophon it appears, that it was
current among the sophists of Greece; and the
answer given it by Socrates is as philosophical
and satisfactory as any thing that could possibly
be advanced in the present state of the sciences.
<c And canst thou doubt, Aristodemus, if the
gods take care of man ? Hath not the privilege
of an erect form been bestowed on him alone ?
Other animals they have provided with feet, by
which they may be removed from one place to
another; but to man they have also given the
use of the hand. A tongue hath been bestowed
on every other animal; but what animal, except
man, hath the power of making his thoughts in¬
telligible to others ?
44 Nor is it with respect to the body alone that
the gods have shown themselves bountiful to
man. Who seeth not that he is as it were a
god in' the midst of this visible creation ? So
far doth he surpass all animals whatever in the
endowments of his body and his mind. For if
the body of the ox had been joined to the mind
of man, the invention of the latter would have
been of little avail, while unable to execute his
purposes with facility. Nor would the human
form have been of more use to the brute, so long
as he remained destitute of understanding. But
in thee, Aristodemus, hath been joined to a
wonderful soul, a body no less wonderful; and
sayst thou, after this, the gods take no care of
me ? What wouldst thou then more to con¬
vince thee of their care ?” 2
A very remarkable passage to the same pur¬
pose occurs in Galen’s treatise, De Usu Partium.
44 But as of all animals man is the wisest, so
hands are well fitted for the purposes of a wise
animal. For it is not because he had hands
that he is therefore wiser than the rest, as An¬
axagoras alleged; but because he was wiser than
the rest that he had therefore hands, as Aris¬
totle has most wisely judged. Neither was it
his hands, but his reason, which instructed man
in the arts. The hands are only the organs by
which the arts are practised.” 3
The contrast, in point of elevation, between
the tone of French philosophy, and that of the
best heathen moralists, was long ago remarked
by Addison; and of this contrast it would be
difficult to find a better illustration than the
passages which have just been quoted.
The disposition of ingenious men to pass sud¬
denly from one extreme to another in matters of
controversy, has, in no instance, been more
strikingly exemplified than in the opposite theo¬
ries concerning the nature of the brutes, which
successively became fashionable in France du¬
ring the last century. While the prevailing
creed of French materialists leads to the rejec¬
tion of every theory which professes to discri¬
minate the rational mind from the animal prin¬
ciple of action, it is well known that, but a few
years before, the disciples of Descartes allowed
no one faculty to belong to man and brutes in
common; and even went so far as to consider
the latter in the light of mere machines. To
this paradox the author was probably led, partly
by his anxiety to elude the objection which the
1 It is not a little surprising that, in the above enumeration, H elvetius takes no notice of the want of language in the
lower animals ; a faculty without which, the multiplication of individuals could contribute nothing to the improvement of
the species. Nor is this want of language in the brutes owing to any defect in the organs of speech ; as sufficiently appears
from those tribes which are possessed of the power of articulation in no inconsiderable degree. It plainly indicates, there¬
fore, some defect in those higher principles which are connected with the use of artificial signs.
* Mrs Sarah Fielding’s Translation.
• Galen, De Us. Part. 1. 1. c. 3.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
181
faculties of the lower animals have been sup¬
posed to present to the doctrine of the immorta¬
lity of the soul, and partly by the difficulty of
reconciling their sufferings with the Divine
Goodness.
Absurd as this idea may now appear, none of
the tenets of Descartes were once adopted with
more implicit faith by some of the profoundest
thinkers in Europe. The great Pascal admired
it as the finest and most valuable article of the
Cartesian system; and of the deep impression it
made on the mind of Malebranche, a most de¬
cisive proof was exhibited by himself in the pre¬
sence of Fontenelle. “ M. de Fontenelle con-
toit,” says one of his intimate friends,1 “ qu’un
jour etant alle voir Malebranche aux PP. de
TOratoire de la Rue St Honore, une grosse
chienne de la maison, et qui etoit pleine, entra
dans la salle ou ils se promenoient, vint caresser
le P. Malebranche, et se rouler a ses pieds.
Apres quelques mouvemens inutiles pour la
chasser, le philosophe lui donna un grand coup
de pied, qui fit jetter a la chienne un cri de dou-
leur, et a M. de Fontenelle un cri de compas¬
sion. Eh quoi (lui dit froidement le P. Male¬
branche) ne s^avez vous pas bien que cela ne se
sent point ?”
On this point Fontenelle, though a zealous
Cartesian, had the good sense to dissent openly
from his master, and even to express his appro¬
bation of the sarcastic remark of La Motte, que
cette opinion sur les animaux etoit une debauche de
raisonnew.ent. Is not the same expression equally
applicable to the opposite theory quoted from
Helvetius ?2
From those representations of human nature
which tend to assimilate to each other the facul¬
ties of man and of the brutes, the transition to
atheism is not very wide. In the present in¬
stance, both conclusions seem to be the neces¬
sary corollaries of the same fundamental maxim.
For if all the sources of our knowledge are to be
found in the external senses, how is it possible
for the human mind to rise to a conception of
the Supreme Being, or to that of any other truth
either of natural or of revealed religion ?
To this question Gassendi and Condillac, it
cannot be doubted, were both able to return an
answer, which seemed to themselves abundantly
satisfactory. But how few of the multitude are
competent to enter into these refined explana¬
tions ? And how much is it to be dreaded, that
the majority will embrace, with the general prin¬
ciple, all the more obvious consequences which
to their own gross conceptions it seems neces¬
sarily to involve ? Something of the same sort
may be remarked in the controversy about the
freedom of the human will. Among the multi¬
tudes whom Leibnitz and Edwards have made
converts to the scheme of necessity, how com¬
paratively inconsiderable is the number who
have acquiesced in their subtle and ingenious
attempts to reconcile this scheme with man’s ac¬
countableness and moral agency?
Of the prevalence of atheism at Paris, among
the higher classes, at the period of which we are
now speaking, the Memoires and Correspondanxe
of the Baron de Grimm afford the most unques¬
tionable proofs.5 His friend Diderot seems to
have been one of its most zealous abettors; who.
1 The Abb(5 Trublet in the Mercure de Juillet, 1757-—(See CEuvres de Fontenelle, Tome II. p. 137. Amsterdam, 17^4.)
2 In La Fontaine’s Discours a Madame de la Sabliere (Liv. X. Fable I.), the good sense with which he points out the ex¬
travagance of both these extremes is truly admirable. His argument (in spite of the fetters of rhyme) is stated, not only
with his usual grace, but with singular clearness and precision ; and considering the period when he wrote, reflects much
honour on his philosophical sagacity. ..
3 The Systeme de la Nature (the boldest, if not the ablest, publication of the Parisian atheists) appeared in 1770* It bore
on the title-page the name of Mirabaud, a respectable but not very eminent writer, who, after long filling the office of per¬
petual secretary to the French Academy, died at a very advanced age in 1760. (He was chiefly known as the author of
very indifferent translations of Tasso and Ariosto.) It is now, however, universally admitted that Mirabaud had no share
whatever in the composition of the Systeme de la Nature. It has been ascribed to various authors; nor am T quite certain,
that, among those who are most competent to form a judgment upon this point, there is yet a perfect unanimity. In
one of the latest works which has reached this country from France (the Correspondance inedite de Galiani, 1818), it seems to
be assumed by the editors, as an acknowledged fact, that it proceeded from the pen of the Baron d Holbach. 1 he Abbe
Galiani having remarked, in one of his letters to Madame Epinay, that it appeared to him to come from the same hand W1^h
the Chrisiianisme Devoile and the Militaire Philosophe, the editors remark in a note, u On peut rendre homage a la sagacite
<ie I’Abbd Galiani. Le Christianisme Devoile est en effet le premier ouvrage philosophique du Baron d’Holbach. C est en
Vain que la Biographic Universelle nous assure, d’apres le temoignage de Voltaire, que cet ouvrage est de Damilaville.
Having mentioned the name of Damilaville, I am tempted to add, that the article relating to him m the Biographic Um-
'ocrseUcy notwithstanding the incorrectness with which it is charged in the foregoing passage, is not unworthy of the reader s
182
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
it appears from various accounts, contributed to
render it fashionable, still more by the extraor¬
dinary powers of his conversation, than by the
odd combination of eloquence and of obscurity
displayed in all his metaphysical productions.1
In order, however, to prevent misapprehen¬
sion of my meaning, it is proper for me to cau¬
tion my readers against supposing that all the
eminent French philosophers of this period were
of the same school with Grimm and Diderot.
On this subject many of our English writers
have been misled by taking for granted that to
speak lightly of final causes is, of itself, sufficient
proof of atheism. That this is a very rash as
well as uncharitable conclusion, no other proof
is necessary than the manner in which final
causes are spoken of by Descartes himself, the
great object of whose metaphysical writings
plainly was, to establish by demonstration the
existence of God. The following vindication of
this part of the Cartesian philosophy has been
lately offered by a French divine, and it may be
extended with equal justice to Buffon and many
others of Descartes’s successors : “ Quelques au¬
teurs, et particulierement Leibnitz, ont critique
cette partie de la doctrine de Descartes; mais
nous la croyons irreprochable, si on veut bien
1’entendre, et remarquer que Descartes ne parle
que des Fins totales de Dieu. Sans doute, le
soleil par exemple, et les etoiles, ont ete faits
pour I’homme, dans ce sens, que Dieu, en les
creant, a eu en vue 1’utilite de I’homme ; et cette
utilite a ete sa fin. Mais cette utilite a-t-elle
ete 1’unique fin de Dieu ? Croit-on qu’en lui
attribuant d’autres fins, on affoibliroit la re-
connoissance de 1’homme, et 1’obligation ou il
est de louer et de benir Dieu dans toutes ses
oeuvres ? Les auteurs de la vie spirituelle, les
plus mystiques meme, et les plus accredites, ne
I’ont pas cru.”—(M. 1’Abbe Emery, Editor of
the Thoughts of Descartes upon Religion and Mo¬
rals, Paris, 1811, p. 79.)
As to the unqualified charge of atheism, which
has been brought by some French ecclesiastics
against all of their countrymen that have pre¬
sumed to differ from the tenets of the Catholic
church, it will be admitted, with large allow¬
ances, by every candid Presbyterian, when it is
recollected that something of the same illiberali-
ty formerly existed under the comparatively
enlightened establishment of England. In the
present times, the following anecdote would ap-
* pear incredible, if it did not rest on the unques¬
tionable testimony of Dr Jortin: “I heard Dr
B. say in a sermon, if any one denies the unin¬
terrupted succession of bishops, I shall not
scruple to call him a downright atheist. This,
when I was young (Jortin adds), was sound,
orthodox, and fashionable doctrine.”—(Tracts,
Yol. I. p. 436.)2
How far the effects of that false philosophy of
which Grimm’s correspondence exhibits so dark
and so authentic a picture, were connected with
the awful revolution which soon after followed,
it is not easy to say. That they contributed
greatly to blacken its atrocities, as well as to re¬
volt against it the feelings of the whole Chris¬
tian world, cannot be disputed. The experi¬
ment was indeed tremendous, to set loose th*
passions of all classes of men from the restraints
attention, as it contains some very remarkable marginal notes on the Christianisme Devoile, copied from Voltaire’s own
handwriting.
Since writing the above note, I have seen the Memoirs of M. Suard, by M. Garat (Paris, 1820), in which the biographer,
■whose authority on this point is perfectly decisive, ascribes with confidence to Baron d’Holbach the Systeme de la Nature,
and also a work entitled La Morale et La Legislation Universelle (Vol. I. pp. 210, 211.)
According to the same author, the Baron d’Holbach was one of Diderot’s proselytes.—(Hid. p. 208.) His former creed,
it would appear, had been very different.
1 And yet Diderot, in some of his lucid intervals, seems to have thought and felt very differently. See Note TT.
2 See Note U U.
Of the levity and extravagance with which such charges have sometimes been brought forward, v-e have a remarkable
instance in a tract entitled Athei Detecti, by a very learned Jesuit Father Hardouin ; (see his Opera Varia Posthuma, Amsterdam,
1733, in fob) where, among a number of other names, are to be found those of Jansenius, Descartes, Malebranche, Arnauld,
Nicole, and Pascal. Large additions on grounds equally frivolous, have been made in later times, to this list, by authors,
who having themselves made profession of Atheism, were anxious, out of vanity, to swell the number of their sect. Of
this kind was a book published at Paris, under some of the revolutionary governments, by Pierre Sylvain Marechal, en¬
titled Dictionnaire des Athees. Here we meet with the names of St Chrysostom, St Augustin, Pascal, Bossuet, Fenelon,
Bellarmin, Labruyere, Leibnitz, and many others not less unexpected. This book he is said to have published at thp
suggestion of the celebrated astronomer Lalande, who afterwards published a supplement to the Dictionary, supplying the
omissions of the author. See the Biogravhie Universelle, articles Marechal, Lalande.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
183
imposed by religious principles; and the result
exceeded, if possible, what could have been an¬
ticipated in theory. The lesson it has afforded
has been dearly purchased; but let us indulge
the hope that it will not be thrown away on the
generations which are to come.
A prediction, which Bishop Butler hazarded
many years before, does honour to his political
sagacity, as well as to his knowledge of human
nature; that the spirit of irreligion would pro¬
duce, some time or other, political disorders, si¬
milar to those which arose from religious fana¬
ticism in the seventeenth century.1
Nearly about the time that the Encyclopedic
was undertaken, another set of philosophers,
since known by the name of Economists, formed
themselves into an association for the purpose of
enlightening the public on questions of political
economy. The object of their studies seemed
widely removed from all abstract discussion;
but they had, nevertheless, a metaphysical sys¬
tem of their own, which, if it had been brought
forward with less enthusiasm and exaggeration,
might have been useful in counteracting the
gloomy ideas then so generally prevalent about
the order of the universe. The whole of their
theory proceeds on the supposition that the ar¬
rangements of nature are wise and benevolent,
and that it is the business of the legislator to
study and co-operate with her plans in all his
own regulations. With this principle, another
was combined, that of the indefinite improve¬
ment of which the human mind and character
are susceptible; an improvement which was re¬
presented as a natural and necessary consequence
of wise laws, and which was pointed out to le¬
gislators as the most important advantage to be
gained from their institutions.
These speculations, whatever opinion may be
formed of their solidity, are certainly as remote
as possible from any tendency to atheism, and
still less do they partake of the spirit of that
philosophy which would level man with the
brute creation. With their practical tendency
in a political view we are not at present concern¬
ed ; hut it would be an unpardonable omission,
after what has been just said of the metaphysi¬
cal theories of the same period, not to mention
the abstract principles involved in the Economi¬
cal System, as a remarkable exception to the ge¬
neral observation. It may be questioned, too,
if the authors of this system, by incorporating
their ethical views with their political disquisi¬
tions, did not take a more effectual step towards
discountenancing the opinions to which they were
opposed, than if they had attacked them in the
way of direct argument.8
On the metaphysical theories which issued from
the French press during the latter half of the
last century, I do not think it necessary for me
to enlarge, after what I have so fully stated in
some of my former publications. To enter into
details with respect to particular works would
be superfluous, as the remarks made upon any
one of them are nearly applicable to them all.
The excellent writings of M. Prevost, and of
M. Degerando, will, it is to be hoped, gradually
introduce into France a sounder taste in this
branch of philosophy.5 At present, so far as I
am acquainted with the state of what is called
1 “ Is there no danger that all this may raise somewhat like that levelling spirit, upon atheistical principles, which, in
the last age, prevailed upon enthusiastic ones ? Not to speak of the possibility, that different sorts of people may unite in
it upon these contrary principles.”—(Sermon preached before the House of Lords, January 30, 1741.)
As the fatal effects of both these extremes have, in the course of the two last centuries, been exemplified on so gigantic
a scale in the two most civilised .ountries of Europe, it is to be hoped that mankind, may in future derive some salutary
admonitions from the experience of their predecessors. In the meantime, from that disposition common both to the higher
and lower orders to pass suddenly from one extreme to another, it is at least possible that the strong re-action produced by
the spirit of impiety during the French Revolution may, in the first instance, impel the multitude to something approach¬
ing to the puritanical fanaticism and frenzy of the Cromwellian Commonwealth.
2 For some other observations on the Ethical principles assumed in the Economical System, see Elements of the Philosophy
of the Human Mind, Vol. II. Chap. iv. Sect. 6. § 1. towards the end.
3 Some symptoms of such a reformation are admitted already to exist, by an author decidedly hostile to all philosophical
systems. “ Bacon, Locke, Condillac, cherchoient dans nos sens 1’origine de nos idees ; Helvetius y a trouve nos idees elles-
memes. Juger, selon ce philosophe, n'est autre chose que sentir* Aujourd’hui les bons esprits, eclaires par les evenemens
* I was somewhat surprised, in looking over very lately the Principia of Descartes, to find (what had formerly escaped
me), that the mode of speaking objected to in the above paragraph may plead in its favourtheauthority of that philosopher.
44 Cogitationis nomine, intelligo ilia omnia, quae nobis consciis in nobis fiunt, quatenus eorum in nobis conscientia est. Atque
184
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Ideologic in that country, it does not appear to
me to furnish much matter either for the in¬
struction or amusement of my readers.
The works of Rousseau have, in general, too
slight a connection with metaphysical science, to
come under review in this part of my discouise.
But to his Emile, which has been regarded as a
supplement to Locke,s Tveatise on Education,
some attention is justly due, on account of vari¬
ous original and sound suggestions on the ma¬
nagement of the infant mind, which, among
many extravagancies, savouring strongly both
of intellectual and moral insanity, may be
gathered by a sober and discriminating inquirer.
The estimate of the merits of this work, formed
by Mr Gray, appears to me so just and impar¬
tial, that I shall adopt it here without a com¬
ment.
“ I doubt” (says he, in a letter to a friend)
“ you have not yet read Rousseau’s Emile.
Every body that has children should read it more
than once; for though it abounds with his usual
glorious absurdity, though his general scheme
of education be an impracticable chimera, yet
there are a thousand lights struck out, a thousand
important truths better expressed than ever they
were before, that may be of service to the wisest
men. Particularly, I think he has observed
children with more attention, knows their mean¬
ing, and the working of their little passions,
better than any other writer. As to his religi¬
ous discussions, which have alarmed the world,
and engaged their thoughts more than any other
parts of his hook, I set them all at nought, and
wish they had been omitted.”—(Gray’s Works
by Mason, Letter 49.)
The most valuable additions made by French
writers to the Philosophy of the Human Mind
are to be found, not in their systematical trea¬
tises on metaphysics, but in those more popu¬
lar compositions, which, professing to paint
the prevailing manners of the times, touch
occasionally on the varieties of intellectual
character. In this most interesting and im¬
portant study, which has been hitherto almost
entirely neglected in Great Britain,1 France
must be allowed not only to have led the way,
but to remain still unrivalled. It would he
endless to enumerate names; but I must not
pass over those of Yauvenargues2 and Du-
sur la secrete tendance de toutes ces opinions, les ont soumises a un examen plus severe. La transformation des sensations
en idees ne paroit plus qu’un mot vide de sens. On trouve que Vhomme statue ressemble un peu trop a Vhomme machine, et
Condillac est moditie ou meme combattu sur quelques points, par tous ceux qui s’en servent encore dans I’enseignement
phiiosophique.” (Rccherches Philosophiques, §<:. par M. de Bonald, Tome I. pp. 34. 35.)
1 Many precious hints connected with it may, however, be collected from the writings of Lord Bacon, and a few from
those of Mr Locke. It does not seem to have engaged the curiosity of Mr Hume in so great a degree as might have been
expected from his habits of observation and extensive intercourse with the world. The objects of Dr Beid’s inquiries led
him into a totally different track. _ _ _ .
Among German writers, Leibnitz has occasionally glanced with a penetrating eye at the varieties of genius; and it were
to be wished that he had done so more frequently. How far his example has been followed by his countrymen in later
times, I am unable to judge, from my ignorance of their language. _
A work expressly on this subject was published by a Spanish physician (Huarte) in the seventeenth century. A French
translation of it, printed at Amsterdam in 1672, is now lying before me. It is entitled, Examen des Esprits pour les Sciences.
Ou se montrent les differences des Esprits, qui se trouvent par mi les hommes, et a quel genre de Science chacun est propre en par-
liculier. The execution of this work certainly falls far short of the expectations raised by the title; but, allowances being
made for the period when it was written, it is by no means destitute of merit, nor unworthy of the attention of those who
may speculate on the subject of Education. For some particulars about its contents, and also about the author, see Bayle’s
Dictionary, Art. Huarte; and The Spectator, No. 30.
2 The Marquis de Yauvenargues, author of a small volume, entitled Introduction ci la Connoissance de-VEsprit Humam.
He entered into the army at the age of eighteen, and continued to serve for nine years ; when, having lost his health irre¬
coverably, in consequence of the fatigues he underwent in the memorable retreat from Prague, in December IT42, he re¬
solved to quit his profession, in the hope of obtaining some diplomatic employment better suited to his broken constitution.
Soon after, he was attacked by the small-pox, which unfortunately turned out of so malignant a kind, as to disfigure his
countenance, and deprive him almost totally of sight. He died in 1747, at the age of thirty-two. The small volume above
mentioned was published the year before his death. It bears everywhere the marks of a powerful, original, and elevated
mind; and the imperfect education which the author appears to have received gives it an additional charm, as the genuine
result of his own unsophisticated reflections.
Marmontel has given a most interesting picture of his social character : “ En le lisant, je crois encore Pentendre, et jene
ita non modo intelligere, velle, imaginari, sed etiam sentire, idem est hie quod cogitare.”—(Princ. Phil. p. 2.) Dr Beid,
too, has said that “ the sensation of colour is a sort of thought” (Inquiry, Chap. vi. § 4.); but no names, how great soever,
can sanction so gross an abuse of language.
After all, there is some difference between saying, that sensation is a sort of thought, and that thought is a sort of sen¬
sation.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
185
clos.1 Nor can I forbear to remark, in justice
to an author whom I have already very
freely censured, that a variety of acute and
refined observations on the different modifi¬
cations of genius may be collected from the
writings of Helvetius. The soundness of some
of his distinctions may perhaps be question¬
ed ; but even his attempts at classification may
serve as useful guides to future observers, and
may supply them with a convenient nomencla¬
ture, to which it is not always easy to find cor¬
responding terms in other languages. As ex¬
amples of this, it is sufficient to mention the fol¬
lowing phrases: Esprit juste, Esprit borne. Es¬
prit etendu, Esprit jin, Esprit delie, Esprit de
lumiere. The peculiar richness of the French
tongue in such appropriate expressions (a cir¬
cumstance, by the way, which not unfrequently
leads foreigners to overrate the depth of a talka¬
tive Frenchman) is itself a proof of the degree
of attention which the ideas they are meant to
convey have attracted in that country among the
higher and more cultivated classes.
The influence, however, of the philosophical
spirit on the general habits of thinking among
men of letters in France, was in no instance dis¬
played to greater advantage, than in the nume¬
rous examples of theoretical or conjectural history,
which appeared about the middle of last century.
I have already mentioned the attempts of Con¬
dillac and others, to trace upon this plan the
first steps of the human mind in the invention
of language. The same sort of speculation has
been applied with greater success to the mecha¬
nical and other necessary arts of civilised life ;a
and still more ingeniously and happily to the
different branches of pure and mixed mathema¬
tics. To a philosophical mind, no study certain¬
ly can be more delightful than this species of
history; but as an organ of instruction, I am
not disposed to estimate its practical utility so
highly as D’Alembert. It does not seem to me
at all adapted to interest the curiosity of novices:
nor is it so well calculated to engage the atten¬
tion of those who wash to enlarge their scientific
knowledge, as of persons accustomed to reflect
on the phenomena and laws of the intellectual
world.
Of the application of theoretical history, to
account for the diversities of laws and modes
of government among men, I shall have occasion
afterwards to speak. At present I shall only
remark the common relation in which all such
researches stand to the Philosophy of the Hu¬
man Mind, and their common tendency to ex¬
pand and to liberalise the views of those who are
occupied in the more confined pursuits of the
subordinate sciences.
After what has been already said of the
general tone of French philosophy, it will not
appear surprising, that a system so mystical and
spiritual as that of Leibnitz never struck its
roots deeply in that country. A masterly out¬
line of its principles wras published by Madame
du Chatelet, at a period of her life when she
was an enthusiastic admirer of the author; and
a work on such a subject, composed by a lady
of her rank and genius, could not fail to pro¬
duce at first a very strong sensation at Paris;
but not long after, she herself abandoned the
sais si sa conversation n’avait pas meme quelque chose de plus animd, de plus ddlicat que ses divins ecrits.” And, on a
different occasion, he speaks of him thus: “Doux, sensible, compatissant, il tenait nos ames dans ses mains. Une serdnitd
inalterable derobait ses douleurs aux yeux de I’amitie. Pour soutenir I’adversite, on n’avoit besoin que de son exemple ;
et temoin de 1’egalitd de son ame, on n’osait etre malheureux avec lui.” See also an eloquent and pathetic tribute to the
genius and worth of Vauvenargues, in Voltaire’s Eloge Funthre des Officiers qui sont marts dans la Guerre de 1741.
_ If the space allotted to him in this note should be thought to exceed what is due to his literary eminence, the singular
circumstances of his short and unfortunate life, and the deep impression which his virtues, as well as his talents, appear to
have left on the minds of all who knew him, will, I trust, be a sufficient apology for my wish to add something to the cele¬
brity of a name, hitherto, I believe, very little known in this country.
* The work of iluclos, here referred to, has for its title, Considerations sur les Maeurs de cc Siecle. Gibbon’s opinion of
this book is, I think, not beyond its merits : “ G’ouvrage en general est bon. Quelques chapitres (le rapport de 1’esprit et
du caractere) me paroissent excellens.”—(Extrait du Journal.)
1 have said nothing of La Rochefoucauld and La Bruyere, as their attention was chiefly confined to manners, apd to mo¬
ral qualities. Yet many of their remarks show, that they had not wholly overlooked the diversities among men in point of
intellect. An observer of sagacity equal to their’s might, I should think, find a rich field of study in this part of human
nature, as well as in the other.
2 Particularly by the President de Goguet, in his learned work, entitled, “ De VOrigine des Lois, des Arts, et dcs Sciences,
et de leurs Progres chez les Anciens Peuples.'’’ Paris, 1758
DISS. I. PART II. 2 A
186
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
German philosophy, and became a zealous
partizan of the Newtonian school. She even
translated into French, and enriched with a
commentary, the Principia of Newton ; and by
thus renouncing her first faith, contributed more
to discredit it, than she had previously done to
bring it into fashion. Since that time, Leibnitz
has had few, if any, disciples in France, al¬
though some of his peculiar tenets have oc¬
casionally found advocates there, among those
who have rejected the great and leading doc¬
trines, by which his system is more peculiarly
characterised. His opinions and reasonings in
particular, on the necessary concatenation of all
events, both physical and moral (which accord¬
ed but too well with the philosophy professed
by Grimm and Diderot), have been long incor¬
porated with the doctrines of the French ma¬
terialists, and they have been lately adopted
and sanctioned, in all their extent, by an au¬
thor, the unrivalled splendour of whose ma¬
thematical genius may be justly suspected, in
the case of some of his admirers, to throw a
false lustre on the dark shades of his philosophi¬
cal creed.1
Notwithstanding, however, this important
and unfortunate coincidence, no two systems
can well be imagined more strongly contrasted
on the whole, than the lofty metaphysics of
Leibnitz, and that degrading theory concerning
the origin of our ideas, which has been fashion¬
able in France since the time of Condillac. In
proof of this, I have only to refer to the account
of both, which has been already given.
The same contrast, it would appear, still con¬
tinues to exist between the favourite doctrines
of the German and of the French schools. “ In
the French empiricism (says a most impartial,
as well as competent judge, M. Ancillon), the
faculty of feeling, and the faculty of knowing,
1 “ Les evenemens actuels ont avec les pr^cedens une liaison fondee sur le principe evident, qu’une chose ne pent pas
commencer d’etre, sans une cause qui la produise. Get axiome, connu sous le nom de principe de la raism~mffisante, setend
aux actions meme que Ton juge indifFerentes. La volonte la plus libre ne peut, sans un motif determinant, leur aonner
naissance; car si, toutes les circonstances de deux positions dtant exactement semblables, elle agissoit dans 1 une et s aD-
stenoit d’agir dans 1’autre, son choix seroit un effet sans cause ;* elle seroit alors, dit Leibnitz, le hazard aveugle des bpicu-
riens. L’opinion contraire est une illusion de Fesprit qui perdant de vue les raisons fugitives du choix de la volonte dans
les choses indifferentes, se persuade qu’elle s’est determinee d’elle meme et sans motifs. #
“ Nous devons done envisager I’etat present de 1’univers comme I’effet de son etat an tori cure, et comme la cause de celui
qui va suivre. Une intelligence qui pour un instant donne connoitroit toutes les forces dont la nature esy animee, et la
situation respective des etres qui la composent, si d’ailleurs elle e'toit assez vaste pour soumettre ces donnees a I’analyse,
embrasseroit dans la meme formule, les mouvemens des plus grands corps de 1’univers et ceux de plus leger atome. Itien
ne seroit incertain pour elle, et I’avenir comme le passe, seroit present a ses yeux.”—(Essai Philosophique sur les Probdbilitts,
par Laplack.) . .
Is not this the very spirit of the Theodiccea of Leibnitz, and, when combined with the other reasonings in the Essay on
Probabilities, the very essence of Spinozism ? c i/
This, indeed, is studiously kept by the author out of the reader’s view; and hence the facility with which some ot ms
propositions have been admitted by many of his mathematical disciples, who, it is highly probable, were not aware oi the
consequences which they necessarily involve. _ .
I cannot conclude this note without recurring to an observation ascribed in the above quotation from Laplace to Lmm
nitz, “ that the blind chance of the Epicureans involves the supposition of an effect taking place without a cause.” This, 1
apprehend, is a very incorrect statement of the philosophy taught by Lucretius, which nowhere gives the slightest coun-
tenance to such a supposition. The distinguishing tenet of this sect was, that the order of the universe does not imply the
existence of intelligent causes, but may be accounted for by the active powers belonging to the atoms of matter; which ac¬
tive powers, being exerted through an indefinitely long period of time, might produce, nay, must have, produced, exactly
such a combination of things, as that with which we are surrounded. This, it is evident, does not ca.ll in question the ne¬
cessity of a cause to produce every effect, but, on the contrary, virtually assumes the truth of that axiom. It only excludes
from these causes the attribute of intelligence. It is in the same way when I apply the words blind chance (hazard aveugle)
to the throw of a die, I do not mean to deny that I am ultimately the cause of the particular event that is to take place; but
only to intimate that I do not here act as a designing cause, in consequence of my ignorance of the various accidents to
which the die is subjected, while shaken in the box. If I am not mistaken, this Epicurean Theory approaches very nearly
to the scheme, which it is the main object of the Essay on Probabilities to inculcate; and, therefore, it was not quite fair m
Laplace to object to the supposition of man’s free agency, as favouring those principles which he himself was labouring in-
directly to insinuate.
From a passage in Plato’s Sophist, it is very justly inferred by Mr Gray, that, according to the common opinion then en¬
tertained, “ the creation of things was the work of blind unintelligent matter; whereas the contrary was the result of phi¬
losophical reflection and disquisition believed by a few people only.”—(Gray's Works by Matthias, Vol. II. p. 414.) Un
the same, subject, see Smith’s Posthumous Essays, p. 106.
* The impropriety of this language was long ago pointed out by Mr Hume. “ They are still more frivolous who say,
that every effect must have a cause, because it is implied in the very idea of effect. Every effect necessarily presuppose
a cause; effect being a relative term, of which cause is the co-relative. The true state of the question is, whether every
object, which begins to exist, must owe its existence to a. cause ?”—( Treatise of Human Nature^ Yol. I. p. 147-)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
187
are one and the same. In the new philosophy
of Germany, there is no faculty of knowing,
but reason. In the former, taking our departure
from individuals, we rise by degrees to ideas, to
general notions, to principles. In the latter,
beginning with what is most general, or rather
with what is universal, we descend to individu¬
al existences, and to particular cases. In the
one, what we see, what we touch, what we feel,
are the only realities. In the other, nothing is
real but what is invisible and purely intellectual.’,
“ Both these systems (continues M. Ancillon)
result from the exaggeration of a sound prin¬
ciple. They are both true and both false in
part; true in what they admit, false in what
they reject. All our knowledge begins, or ap¬
pears to begin, in sensation; but it does not fol¬
low from this that it is all derived from sensa¬
tion, or that sensation constitutes its whole
amount. The proper and innate activity of the
mind has a large share in the origin of our re¬
presentations, our sentiments, our ideas. Reason
involves principles which she does not borrow
from without, which she owes only to herself,
which the impressions of the senses call forth
from their obscurity, but which, far from owing
their origin to sensations, serve to appreciate
them, to judge of them, to employ them as instru¬
ments. It would be rash, however, to conclude
from hence, that there is no certaintybut in reason,
that reason alone can seize the mystery of exist¬
ences, and the intimate nature of beings, and that
experience is nothing but a vain appearance,
destitute of every species of reality.”1
With this short and comprehensive estimate
of the new German philosophy, pronounced by
one of the most distinguished members of the
Berlin Academy, I might perhaps be pardoned
for dismissing a subject, with which I have, in
some of my former publications, acknowledged
myself (from my total ignorance of the German
language) to be very imperfectly acquainted;
but the, impression which it produced for a few
years in England (more particularly while our
intercourse with the Continent was interrupted),
makes it proper for me to bestow on it a little
more notice in this Dissertation, than I should
otherwise have judged necessary or useful.
SECTION VII.
Kant and other Metaphysicians of the New German School.2
The long reign of the Leibnitzian Philosophy degree, to the zeal and ability with which it was
in Germany was owing, in no inconsiderable taught in that part of Europe, for nearly half a
1 Mtlanges de Litterature et de Philosophic, par F. Axcillon, Preface, (a Paris, 1809.) The intimacy of M. Ancillon’s
literary connections both with France and with Germany entitle his opinions on the respective merits of their philosophi¬
cal systems to peculiar weight. If he anywhere discovers a partiality for either, the modest account which he gives of
himself would lead us to expect his leaning to be in favour of his countrymen. “ Place entre la France et 1’AUemagne,
appartenant a la premiere par la langue dans laquelle je hasarde d’dcrire, a la seconde par ma naissance, mes etudes, mes
principes, mes affections, et j’ose le dire, par la couleur de ma pensde, je desirerois pouvoir servir de mediateur litteraire,
ou d’interprete philosophique entre les deux nations.”
In translating from M. Ancillon the passage quoted in the text, I have adhered as closely as possible to the words of
the original; although I cannot help imagining that I could have rendered it still more intelligible^ to the English reader
by laying aside some of the peculiarities of his German phraseology. My chief reason for retaining these, was to add
weight to the strictures which a critic, so deeply tinctured with the German habits of thinking and of writing, has offered,
on the most prominent faults of the systems in which he had been educated.
2 My ignorance of German would have prevented me from saying anything of the philosophy of Kant, if the extraor¬
dinary pretensions with which it was at first brought forward in this island, contrasted with the total oblivion into which
it soon after very suddenly fell, had not seemed to demand some attention to so wonderful a phenomenon in the literary
history of the eighteenth century. My readers will perceive that I have taken some pains to atone for my inability to
read Kant’s works in the original, not only by availing myself of the Latin version of Born, but by consulting various com¬
ments on them which have appeared in the English, French, and Latin languages. As commentators, however, and even
translators, are not always to be trusted to as unexceptionable interpreters of their authors’ opinions, my chief reliance has
been placed on one of Kant’s own compositions in Latin ; his Dissertation De Mundi Scnsibilis atque IntelligiUlis Forma et
PrincipiU, which he printed as the subject of a public disputation, when he was candidate for a Professorship in the Uni-
188
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
century, by his disciple Wolfius,1 a man of little
genius, originality, or taste, but whose exten¬
sive and various learning, seconded by a metho¬
dical head,2 and by an incredible industry
and perseverance, seems to have been peculiarly
fitted to command the admiration of his country¬
men. Wolfius, indeed, did not profess to follow
implicitly the opinions of his master, and, on
some points, laid claim to peculiar ideas of his
own; but the spirit of his philosophy is essen¬
tially the same with that of Leibnitz,5 and the
particulars in which he dissented from him are
too trifling to deserve any notice in the history
of literature.4
The high reputation so long maintained by
Wolfius in Germany suggested, at different times,
to the book-makers at Paris, the idea of intro¬
ducing into France the philosophy which he
taught. Hence a number of French abridg¬
ments of his logical and metaphysical writings.
But an attempt, which had failed in the hands
of Madame de Chatelet, was not likely to suc¬
ceed with the admirers and abridgers of Wol¬
fius. 5
versity of Koenigsberg. It is far from being improbable, after all, that I may, in some instances, have misapprehended his
meanino-, but I hope I shall not be accused of wilfully misrepresenting it. Where my remarks are borrowed from other
writers,“l have been careful in referring to my authorities, that my reader may judge for himself of the fidelity of my
statements. If no other purpose, therefore, should be answered by this part of my work, it may at least be of use by call-
ing forth some person properly qualified to correct any mistakes into which I may involuntarily have fallen ; and, in the
meantime, may serve to direct those who are strangers to German literature, to some of the comments on this philosophy
which have appeared in languages more generally understood in this country.
1 Born 1679. Died 1754.
2 The display of method, however, so conspicuous in all the works of Wolfius, will often be found to amount to little
more than an aukward affectation of the phraseology and forms of mathematics, in sciences where they contribute nothing
to the clearness of our ideas, or the correctness of our reasonings. This affectation, which seems to have been well adapted
to the taste of Germany at the time when he wrote, is now one of the chief causes of the neglect into which his writings
have fallen. Some of them may still be usefully consulted as dictionaries, but to read them is impossible. They amount
to about forty quarto volumes, twenty-three of which are in Latin, the rest in German.
In his own country the reputation of Wolfius is not yet at an end. In the preface to Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, he
is called “ Summus omnium dogmaticorum Philosophus.”—(Kantii Opera ad Plulosophiam Criticam, Vol. I. Prsef. Auctoris
Posterior, p. xxxvi. Latine Yertit. Fred. Born. Lipsise, 1796.) And by one of Kant’s best commentators his name is
advantageously contrasted with that of David Hume: “ Est autem scientifica methodus aut dogmatica, aut sceptica.
Primi generis autorem celeberrimum Wolfium, alterius Davidem Humium nominasse sat est.”—Expositio Philos. Criticx.
Autore Conrado Friderico a Schmidt-Phiseldek. Hafnise, 1796.)
To the other merits of Wolfius it may be added, that he was one of the first who contributed to diffuse among his conn-
trymen a taste for philosophical inquiries, by writing on scientific subjects in the German language. “ Were all Baron
Wolf’s other merits disputed, there is one (says Michaelis), which must incontestably be allowed him, his having added a
new degree of perfection to the German Tongue, by applying it to philosophy.”—(Dissertation on the Influence of Opinions on
Language, &c. English Translation, p. 27.)
3 On the great question of Free Will, Wolfius adopted implicitly the principles of the Theodiccea; considering man
merely in the light of a machine; but (with the author of that work) dignifying this machine by the epithet spiritual. This
language, which is still very prevalent among German philosophers, may be regarded as a relic of the doctrines of Leibnitz
and of Wolfius; and affords an additional proof of the difficulty of eradicating errors sanctioned by illustrious and popular
names.
When the system of Pre-established Harmony was first introduced by Wolfius into the University of Halle, it excited
an alarm which had very nearly been attended with fatal consequences to the professor. The following anecdote on the
subject is told by Euler: “ Lorsque du temps du feu Roi de Prusse, M. Wolf enseignoit a Halle le systeme de 1’Har-
monie Pre-etablie, le Roi s’informa de cette doctrine, qui faisoit grand bruit alors ; et un courtisan repondit a sa Majeste',
que tous les soldats, selon cette doctrine, n’etoient que des machines; que quand il en desertoit, c’etoit une suite necessaire
de leur structure, et qu’on avoit tort par consequent de les punir, comme on 1’auroit si on punissoit une machine pour avoir
produit tel ou tel mouvement. Le Roi se facha si fort sur ce rapport, qu’il donna ordre de chasser M. Wolf de Halle, sous
peine d’etre pendu s’il s’y trouvoit au bout de 24 heurs. Le philosophe se refugia alors a Marbourg, ou je lui ai parle peu
de temps apres (Lettres a une Princesse d'Allemagne, Lettre 84me.) We are informed by Condorcet, that some reparation
was afterwards made for this injustice by Frederic the Great—“ Le Roi de Prusse, qui ne croit pas pourtant a 1’Harmonie
Prd-etablie, s’est empresse de rendre justice a Wolf des le premier jour de son regne.”
4 Among other novelties affected by Wolfius, was a new modification of the Theory of the Monads. A slight outline
of it, but quite sufficient, I should suppose, to gratify the curiosity of most readers, may be found in Euler’s Letters to a
German Princess.
5 To what was before remarked, of the opposition in matters of philosophy between the taste of the French and that of
the Germans, I shall here add a short passage from an author intimately acquainted with the literature of both nations.
“ L’ecole Allemande reconnoit Leibnitz pour chef. Son fameux disciple Wolf re'gna dans les universites pendant pres
d’un demi siecle avec une autorite non contestee. On connoit en France cette philosophic par un grand nombre d’abrege's
dont quelque-uns sont faits par des auteurs qui seuls auroient suffi pour lui donner de la celebrite.
“ Malgre 1’appui de tous ces noms, Jawaii en France cettc philosophic ne s'est soutenue meme quelques instans. La profondeur
apparente des idees, Pair d’ensemble et de systeme, n’ont jamais pu y suppleer it ce qui a paru lui manquer pour en faire
une doctrine solide et digne d’etre accueillie. Outre quelque defaut de clarte, qui probablement en a ecartd des esprits pour
qui cette qualite de style et de la pensee est devenue un heureux besoin, la forme sous laquelle elle se presente a rebute
bien des lecteurs. . Quoi qu’aient pu faire les interpretes, il a toujours percd quelque chose de Pappareil incommode qui
Pentoure a son origine. Condillac tourne plus d’une fois en ridicule ces formes et ce jargon scientifique, et il s’applique k
189
DISSERTATION FIRST.
From the time of Wolfius till the philosophy
of Kant began to attract general notice, I know
of no German metaphysician whose speculations
seem to have acquired much celebrity in the
learned world.1 Lambert2 is perhaps the most
illustrious name which occurs during this inter¬
val. As a mathematician and natural philoso¬
pher, his great merits are universally known
and acknowledged, but the language in which
his metaphysical and logical works were written,
has confined their reputation within a compa¬
ratively narrow circle. I am sorry that I can¬
not speak of these from my own knowledge;
hut I have heard them mentioned in terms of
the highest praise, by some very competent
judges, to whose testimony I am disposed to
give the greater credit, from the singular vein
of originality which runs through all his mathe¬
matical and physical publications.3
The Critique of Pure Reason (the most cele¬
brated of Kant’s metaphysical works) appeared
in 1781.4 The idea annexed to the title by the
author, is thus explained by himself: “ Criti-
cam rationis puree non dico censuram librorum
et Systematum, sed facultatis rationalis in uni-
versum, respectu cognitionum omnium, ad quas,
ab omni experientia libera, possit anniti, proinde
dijudicationem possibilitatis aut impossibilitatis
metaphysices in genere, constitutionemque turn
fontium, turn ambitus atque compagis, turn vero
terminorum illius, sed cuncta heec ex princi-
piis.”—Kantii, Opera ad Philosophiam Criticam,
Vol. I. Preefatio Auctoris Prior. pp. 11, 12.) To
render this somewhat more intelligible, I shall
subjoin the comment of one of his intimate
friends,5 whose work, we are informed by Dr
Willich, had received the sanction of Kant him¬
self. “ The aim of Kant’s Critique is no less
than to lead Reason to the true knowledge of it¬
self ; to examine the titles upon which it founds
the supposed possession of its metaphysical
knowledge ; and by means of this examination,
to mark the true limits, beyond which it cannot
venture to speculate, without wandering into the
empty region of pure fancy.” The same author
adds, “ The whole Critique of Pure Reason is es¬
tablished upon this principle, that there is a free
reason^ independent of all experience and sensation.”
montrer qu’ils ne sont pas plus propres a satisfaire la raison que le gout. II est au moins certain, que le lecteur Francais let re.
pousse par instinct, et qu'il y trouve un obstacle tres difficile d surmonter."—(Reflexions sur les CEuvrcs Posthumcs d'Adam Smith,
par M. Prevost de Geneve, a Paris, 1794.)
1 Madame de Stael mentions Lessing, Hemsterhuis, and Jacobi, as precursors of Kant in his philosophical career. She
adds, however, that they had no school, since none of them attempted to found any system; but they began the war
against the doctrines of the Materialists.—(Allemagne, Tome III. p. 98.) I am not acquainted with the metaphysical
works of any of the three. Those of Hemsterhuis, who wrote wholly in French, were, I understand, first published in a
collected form at Paris, in 1792. He was son of the celebrated Greek scholar and critic, Tiberius Hemsterhusius, Profes¬
sor of Latin Literature at Leyden.
2 Born at Mulhausen in Alsace in 1728. Died at Berlin in 1777.
3 The following particulars, with respect to Lambert’s literary history, are extracted from a Memoir annexed by M.
Prevost to his translation of Mr Smith’s Posthumous Works:—“■ Get ingenieux et puissant Lambert, dont les mathema-
tiques, qui lui doivent beaucoup, ne purent e'puiser les forces, et qui ne toucha aucun sujet de physique ou de philosophie
rationelle, sans le couvrir de lumiere. Ses lettres cosmologiques, qu’il ecrivit par forme de delassement, sont pleines d’idees
sublimes, entees sur la philosophie la plus saine et la plus savante tout-a-la-fois. II avoit aussi dresse sous le litre d'Archi-
tectonique un tableau des principes sur lesquels se fondent les connoissances humaines. Get ouvrage au jugement des hommes
les plus verse's dans 1’etude de leur langue, n’est pas exempt d’obscurite. Kile peut tenir en partie a la nature du sujet,
H est a regretter que sa logique, intitule Organon, ne soit traduite ni en Latin, ni en Franqais, ni je pense en aucune
langue. Un extrait bien fait de cet ouvrage, duquel on e'earteroit ce qui repugne au gout national, exciteroit Pattention
des philosophes, et la porteroit sur une multitude d’objets qu’ils se sont accoutume's d regarder avec indiffe'rence.”—(Pre¬
vost, Tome II. pp. 2G7, 268.)
In the article Lambert, inserted in the twenty-third volume of the Biographic Universclle (Paris 1819), the following ac¬
count is given of Lambert’s logic :—“ Wolf, d’apres quelques indications de Leibnitz, avoit retire de Poubli la syllogistique
d’Aristote, science que les scholastiques avoient tellement avilie que ni Bacon ni Locke n’avoient ose lui accorder un regard
d’interet. II etoit reserve d Lambert de la montrer sous le plus beau jour et dans la plus riche parure. C’est ce qu’il a
fait dans son Novum Organon, ouvrage qui est un des principaux litres de gloire de son auteur.” From the writer of this
article (M. Servois) we farther learn, that the Novum Organon of Lambert was translated into Latin from the German ori¬
ginal by a person of the name of Pfleiderer, and that this translation was in the hands of an English nobleman (the late
Earl of Stanhope) as lately as 1782. I quote the words of M. Servois, in the hope that they may attract some attention
to the manuscript, if it be still in existence. The publication of it would certainly be a most acceptable present to the
learned world. “ D’apres le conseil de Le Sage de Geneve, Pouvrage fut traduit en Latin par Pfleiderer, aux frais d’un
savant Italien; cette traduction passa, on ne sail comment, entre les mains de Milord Mahon, qui la possedoit .encore en
1782; on ignore quel est son sort ulterieur.”
4 Kant was born at Koenigsberg, in Prussia, in 1724. He died in 1804.
* Mr John Schulze, an eminent divine at Koenigsberg, author of the Synopsis of the Critical Philosophy, translated by Dr
Wdlich, and inserted in his Elementary View of Kant's Works.—(See pp- 42, 43.)
190
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
When the Critique of Pure Reason first came
out, it does not seem to have attracted much
notice,1 but such has been its subsequent suc¬
cess, that it m.ay be regarded, according to
Madame de Staiil,2 “ as having given the impulse
to all that has been since done in Germany,
both in literature and in philosophy.”—(Alle-
'inagne, Yol. III. pp. 68, 69.)
“ At the epoch when this work was publish¬
ed (continues the same writer), there existed
among thinking men only two systems concern¬
ing the human understanding : The one, that of
Locke, ascribed all our ideas to our sensations;5
the other, that of Descartes and of Leibnitz, had
for its chief objects to demonstrate the spiritua¬
lity and activity of the soul, the freedom of the
will,4 and, in short, the whole doctrines of the
idealists Between these extremes rea-
1 II se passa quelque terns apres la premiere publication de la Critique dc la Pure Raison, sans qu’on fit beaucoup d’attention
a ce livre, et sans que la plupart de philosophes, passiones pour I’cclectisme, soupqonassent seulement la grande re'volution
que cet ouvrage et les productions suivantes de son auteur devoient operer dans la science.”—(Buhle, Hist, de la Pink
Mod. Tom. YI. p. 573. Paris, 181G.)
As early, however, as the year 1783, the Philosophy of Kant appears to have been adopted in so?ne of the German schools.
The ingenious M. Trembley, in a memoir then read before the Academy of Berlin, thus speaks of it:—“ La philosophic
de Kant, qui, d la honte de Vesprit humain, paroit avoir acquis tant de faveur dans certaines e'coles.”—(Essai sur les Prtjugcs.
Reprinted at Neufchatel in 1790.)
We are farther told by Buhle, that the attention of the public to Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason was first attracted by an
excellent analysis of the work, which appeared in the General Gazette of Literature, and by the Letters on Kant's Philosophy,
which Reinhold inserted in the German Mercury—(Buhle, Tom. YI. p. 573.) Of this last philosopher, who appears, in
the first instance, to have entered with enthusiasm into Kant’s views, and who afterwards contributed much to open the
eyes of his countrymen to the radical defects of his system, I shall have occasion to speak hereafter. Degerando, as well
as Buhle, bestows high praise not only on his clearness, but on his eloquence, as a writer in his own language. “ II a tra-
duit les oracles Kantiens dans une langue e'le'gante, harmonieuse, et pure * * * II a su exprimer avec un langage eloquent,
des ide'es jusqu’alors inintefiigibles,” &c (Histoirc Comparee, &c. Torn. II. p. 271.) That this praise is not undeserved I
am very ready to believe, having lately had an opportunity (through the kindness of my learned and revered friend Dr
Parr) of reading, in the Latin version of Fredericus Gottolb Born, Reinhold’s principal work, entitled Pericuhm Novx
Theoriac Facullatis Reprccsentativce Humanoc. In point of perspicuity, he appears to me to be greatly superior to Kant; and of
this I conceive myself to be not altogether incompetent to judge, as the Latin versions of both authors are by the same
liand.
2 The following quotation, from the advertisement prefixed to Madame de Stael’s posthumous work (Considerations sur
la Revolution Frangaise), will at once account to my readers for the confidence with which I appeal to her historical state¬
ments on the subject of Germany philosophy. Her own knowledge of the language was probably not so critically exact, as
to enable her to enter into the more refined details of the different systems which she has described; but her extraordinary
])enetration, joined to the opportunities she enjoyed of conversing with all that was then most illustrious in Germany, qua-
lifted her in an eminent degree to seize and to delineate their great outlines. And if, in executing this task, any consider¬
able mistakes could have been supposed to escape her, we may be fully assured, that the very accomplished person, to whose
revision we learn that her literary labours at this period of her life were submitted, would prevent them from ever meeting
the public eye. I except, of course, those mistakes into which she was betrayed by her admiration of the German school.
Of some of the most important of these, I shall take notice as I proceed ; a task which I feel incumbent on me, as it is
through the medium of her book that the great majority of English readers have acquired all their knowledge of the new
German philosophy, and as her name and talents have given it a temporary consequence in this country which it could not
otherwise have acquired.
“ Le travail des editeurs s’est borne uniquement a la re'vision des e'preuves, et a la correction de ces Idgeres inexactitudes
de style, qui echappent a la vue dans le manuscrit le plus soigne. Ce travail c’est fait sous les yeux de M. A. W. de Schle-
gel, dont la rare superioritc d'esprit et de savoir justifie la confiance avec laqucllc Madame dc Stacl le consultoit dans tons ses travaux
Utter air cs, autant que son honorable caractere merite I’estime et I’amitie qu’elle n’a pas cesse d’avoir pour lui pendant une
liaison de treize annecs."
If any further apology be necessary for quoting a French lady as an authority on German metaphysics, an obvious one is
suggested by the extraordinary and well merited popularity of her Allemagne in this country. I do not know, if, in any
part of her works, her matchless powers have been displayed to greater advantage. Of this no stronger proof can be given
than the lively interest she inspires, even when discussing such systems as those of Kant and ef Fichte.
3 That this is a very incorrect account of Locke’s philosophy, has been already shown at great length; but in this mistake
Madame de Stael has only followed Leibnitz, and a very large proportion of {he German philosophers of the present day.
“ The philosophy of sensation,” says Frederick Schlegel, “ which was unconsciously bequeathed to the world by Bacon, and
reduced to a methodical shape by Locke, first displayed in France the true immorality and destructiveness of which it is
the parent, and assumed the appearance of a perfect system of Atheism.”—(Lectures on the History of Literature, from the
German of Fred. Schlegel. Edin. 1818, Vol. II. p. 22.) It is evident, that the system of Locke is here confounded with
that of Condillac. May not the former be called the philosophy of refection, with as great propriety as the philosophy ot
sensation ?
4 In considering Leibnitz as a partizan of the freedom of the will, Madame de Stael has also followed the views of many
German writers, who make no distinction between Materialists and Necessitarians, imagining, that to assert the spiritua¬
lity ol the soul, is to assert its free agency. On the inaccuracy of these conceptions it would be superfluous to enlarge,
after what was formerly said in treating of the metaphysical opinions of Leibnitz.
In consequence of this misapprehension, Madame de Stael, and many other late writers on the Continent, have been led
to employ, with a very exceptionable latitude, the word Idealist, to comprehend not only the advocates for the immateriality
of the mind, but those also who maintain the Freedom of the Human Will. Between these two opinions, there is certainly
DISSERTATION FIRST.
191
son continued to wander, till Kant undertook
to trace the limits of the two empires; of the
senses and of the soul; of the external and of
the internal worlds. The force of meditation
and of sagacity, with which he marked these
limits, had not perhaps any example among his
predecessors.”—(Allemagne^ Vol. III. pp. 70, 72.)
The praise bestowed on this part of Kant’s
philosophy, by one of his own pupils, is not less
warm than that of Madame de Stael. I quote
the passage, as it enters into some historical de¬
tails which she has omitted, and describes more
explicitly than she has done one of the most im¬
portant steps, which Kant is supposed by his
disciples to have made beyond his predecessors.
In reading it, some allowances must be made for
the peculiar phraseology of the German school.
“ Kant discovered that the intuitive faculty of
man is a compound of very dissimilar ingre¬
dients ; or, in other words, that it consists of
parts very different in their nature, each of which
performs functions peculiar to itself; namely, the
sensitive faculty, and the understanding 
Leibnitz, indeed, had likewise remarked the
distinction subsisting between the sensitive facul¬
ty and the understanding; but he entirely over¬
looked the essential difference between their
functions, and was of opinion that the faculties
differed from one another only in degree 
In the works of the English and French philo¬
sophers, we find this essential distinction be¬
tween the sensitive and the intellectual facul¬
ties, and their combination towards producing
one synthetical intuition, scarcely mentioned.
Locke only alludes to the accidental limitations
of both faculties; but to inquire into the essen¬
tial difference between them does not at all oc¬
cur to him This distinction, then, be¬
tween the sensitive and the intellectual facul¬
ties, forms an essential feature in the philosophy
of Kant, and is, indeed, the basis upon which
most of his subsequent inquiries are establish¬
ed.”—(Elements of the Crit. Phil, by A. F. M.
Willich, M. D. pp. 68, 69, 70.)
It is a circumstance not easily explicable, that,
in the foregoing historical sketch, no mention is
made of the name of Cudworth, author of the
treatise on Eternal and Immutable Morality ; a
book which could scarcely fail to be known, be¬
fore the period in question, to every German
scholar, by the admirable Latin version of it
published by Dr Mosheim.1 In this treatise,
no necessary connection; Leibnitz, and many other German metaphysicians, denying the latter with no less confidence
than that with which they assert the former.
In England, the word Idealist is most commonly restricted to such as (with Berkeley) reject the existence of a material
world. Of late, its meaning has been sometimes extended (particularly since the publications of Reid) to all those who re¬
tain the theory of Descartes and Locke, concerning the immediate objects of our perceptions and thoughts, whether they
admit or reject the consequences deduced from this theory by the Berkeleians. In the present state of the science, it
would contribute much to the distinctness of our reasonings were it to be used in this last sense exclusively.
There is another word to which Madame de Stael and other writers on the German philosophy annex an idea peculiar
to themselves ; I mean the word experimental or empirical. This epithet is often used by them to distinguish what they
call the philosophy of Sensations, from that of Plato and of Leibnitz. It is accordingly generally, if not always, employed
by them in an unfavourable sense. In this country, on the contrary, the experimental or inductive philosophy of the hu¬
man mind denotes those speculations concerning mind, which, rejecting all hypothetical theories, rest solely on phenomena
for which we have the evidence of consciousness. It is applied to the philosophy of Iteid, and to all that is truly valuable
in the metaphysical works of Descartes, Locke, Berkeley, and Hume.
Nor are the words, experimental and empirical, by any means synonymous in our language.. The latter word is now al¬
most exclusively appropriated to the practice of Medicine ; and when so understood always implies a rash and unphiloso-
phical use of Experience. “The appellation Empiric,” says the late Dr John Gregory, “is generally applied to one who,
from observing the effects of a remedy in one case of a disease, applies it to all the various cases of that distemper. The
same remark may be extended to the word Empirique in the Trench language, which is very nearly synonymous with
Charlatan. In consequence of this abuse of terms, the epithet experimental, as well as empirical, is seldom applied by foreign
writers to the philosophy of Locke, without being intended to convey a censure.
1 The first edition of this translation was printed as early as 1732. From Buhle’s History of Modern Philosophy (a work
which did not fall into my hands till long after this section was written), I find that Cudworth’s Treatise 0/ Immutable Mo¬
rality is now not only well known to the scholars of Germany, but that some of them have remarked the identity of the
doctrines contained in it with those of Kant. “ Meiners, dans son histoire generale de I’Ethique, nie que le systeme
morale de Cudworth soit identique avec celui de Platon, et pretend au contraire, ‘ que les principes considered comme ap-
partenans de la maniere la plus speciale a la morale de Kant, etaient enseignes il y a deja plusieurs generations par 1 ecole
du philosophe Anglais.”—(//irf. de la Phil. Moderne, Tom. III. p. 577-) In opposition to this, Buhle states his own decid¬
ed conviction, “ qu’ aucune des idees de Cudworth ne se rapproche de celles de Kant.”—(Ibid.) How far this conviction is
■well founded, the passage from Cudworth, quoted in the text, will enable my readers to judge for themselves.
That Cudworth has blended with his principles a vein of Platonic mysticism, which is not to be found in Kant, is un¬
deniable; but it does not follow from this, that none of Kant’s leading ideas are borrowed from the writings of Cudworth.
The assertion of Buhle, just mentioned, is the* more surprising, as he himself acknowledges that “la philosophic
192
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS
Cudworth is at much pains to illustrate the Pla¬
tonic doctrine concerning the difference between
sensation and intellection ; asserting that ii some
ideas of the mind proceed not from outward
sensible objects, but arise from the inward ac¬
tivity of the mind itselfthat “ even simple
corporeal things, passively perceived by sense,
are known and understood only by the active
power of the mindand that, besides AioSr^aru
and (bavrugfiaru, there must be Novara or intel¬
ligible ideas, the source of which can be traced
to the understanding alone.1
In the course of his speculations on these sub¬
jects, Cudworth has blended, with some very
deep and valuable discussions, several opinions
to which I cannot assent, and not a few propo¬
sitions which I am unable to comprehend; but
he seems to have advanced at least as far as
Kant, in drawing the line between the provin¬
ces of the senses and of the understanding; and
although not one of the most luminous of our
English writers, he must be allowed to be far
superior to the German metaphysician, both in
point of perspicuity and of precision. A later
writer, too, of our own country (Dr Price), a
zealous follower both of Plato and of Cudworth,
afterwards resumed the same argument, in a
work which appeared long before the Critique of
Pure Reason ;2 and urged it with much force
against those modern metaphysicians, who con¬
sider the senses as the sources of all our know¬
ledge. At a period somewhat earlier, many
very interesting quotations of a similar import
had been produced by the learned Mr Harris,
from the later commentators of the Alexandrian
school on the philosophy of Aristotle; and had
been advantageously contrasted by him with the
account given of the origin of our ideas, not
only by Hobbes and Gassendi, but by many of
the professed followers of Locke. If this part
of the Kantian system, therefore, was new in
Germany, it certainly could have no claim to
the praise of originality, in the estimation of
those at all acquainted with English literature.3
In order, however, to strike at the root of
what the Germans call the philosophy of sensa-
morale de Price presente en effet une analogic frappante ayec celle de Kant;” and in another part of his work, he expresses
himself thus on the same subject: “ Le plus remarquahle de tous les moralistes modernes de I’Angleterre est, sans con-
tredit, Richard Price On remarque 1’analogie la plus frappante entre ses idees sur les bases de la moralite, et celles que la
philosophic critique a fait naitre en Allemagne, quoique il ne soit cependant pas possible d’elever le plus petit doute sur
Pentiere originalite de ces dernieres.”—(Tom. V. p. 303.) Is there any thing of importance in the system of Price, which
is not borrowed from the Treatise of Immutable Morality ?■ The distinguishing merit of this learned and most respectable
writer is the good sense with which he has applied the doctrines of Cudworth to the sceptical theories of his own times.
In the sequel of Ruble’s reflections on Cudworth’s philosophy, we are told, that, according to him, “the will of God is
only a simple blind power, acting mechanically or accidentally.” (“ Chez Cudworth la volonte meme en Dieu, n’est qu’un
simple pouvoir aveugle, agissant me'chaniquement ou accidentellement.”) If this were true, Cudworth ought to be ranked
among the disciples, not of Plato, but of Spinoza.
1 In this instance, a striking resemblance is observable between the language of Cudworth and that of Kant; both of
them having followed the distinctions of the Socratic school, as explained in the Thecetetus of Plato. They who are at all
acquainted with Kant’s Critique, will immediately recognise his phraseology in the passage quoted above.
2 See a review of the Principal Questions and Difficulties relating to Morals, by Richard Price, D. D. London, 1758.
3 I have mentioned here only those works of a modern date, which may be reasonably presumed to be still in general
circulation among the learned. But many very valuable illustrations of the Platonic distinction between the senses and the
understanding may be collected from the English writers of the seventeenth century. Among these it is sufficient to men¬
tion at present the names of John Smith and Henry More of Cambridge, and of Joseph Gian vile, the author of Scepsis
Scientifica.
Cudworth’s Treatise of Eternal and Immutable Morality, although it appears, from intrinsic evidence, to have been com¬
posed during the lifetime of Hobbes, was not published till 1731, when the author’s manuscript came into the hands of
his grandson, Francis Cudworth Masham, one of the Masters in Chancery. This work, therefore, could not have been
known to Leibnitz, who died seventeen years before ; a circumstance which may help to account for its having attracted
so much less attention in Germany than his Intellectual System, which is repeatedly mentioned by Leibnitz in terms of the
highest praise.
From an article in the Edinburgh Review (Vol. XXVII. p. 191), we learn, that large unpublished manuscripts of Dr
Cudworth are deposited in the British Museum. It is much to be regretted (as the author of the article observes), that
they should have been so long withheld from the public. “ The press of the two Universities (he adds) would be properly
employed in works, which a commercial publisher could not prudently undertake.” May we not indulge a hope, that tins
suggestion will, sooner or later, have its due effect ? _
In the preface of Mosheim to his Latin version of the Intellectual System, there is a catalogue of Cudworth’s unpublished
remains, communicated to Mosheim by Dr Chandler, then Bishop of Durham. Among these are two distinct works on
the Controversy concerning Liberty and Necessity, of each of which works Mosheim has given us the general contents.
One of the chapters is entitled, “ Answer to the Objection against Liberty, uvuinov.” It is not probable that it con¬
tains any thing very new or important; but it would certainly.be worth while to know the reply made by Cudworth to an
objection which both Leibnitz and La Place have fixed upon as decisive of the point in dispute.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
193
tkm, it was necessary to trace, with some degree
of systematical detail, the origin of our most
important simple notions; and for this purpose
it seemed reasonable to begin with an analytical
view of those faculties and powers, to the exer¬
cise of which the development of these notions
is necessarily subsequent. It is thus that the
simple notions of time and motion presuppose
the exercise of the faculty of memory; and that
the simple notions of truth, of belief, of doubt,
and many others of the same kind, necessarily
presuppose the exercise of the power of reason¬
ing. I do not know, that, in this anatomy of
the mind, much progress has hitherto been made
by the German metaphysicians. A great deal
certainly has been accomplished by the late Dr
Reid; and something, perhaps, has been added
to his labours by those of his successors.
According to Kant himself, his metaphysical
doctrines first occurred to him while employed
in the examination of Mr Hume’s Theory of
Causation. The train of thought by which he
was led to them will be best stated in his own
words; for it is in this way alone that I can
hope to escape the charge of misrepresentation
from his followers. Some of his details would
perhaps have been more intelligible to my read¬
ers, had my plan allowed me to prefix to them
a slight outline of Hume’s philosophy. But this
the general arrangement of my discourse ren¬
dered impossible; nor can any material incon¬
venience result, in this instance, from the order
which I have adopted, inasmuch as Hume’s
Theory of Causation, how new soever it may
have appeared to Kant, is fundamentally the
same with that of Malebranche, and of a variety
of other old writers, both French and English.
1 “ Since the Essays (says Kant) of Locke
and of Leibnitz, or rather since the origin of
metaphysics, as far as their history extends, no
circumstance has occurred, which might have
been more decisive of the fate of this science
than the attack made upon it by David Hume.9
He proceeded upon a single but important idea
in metaphysics, the connection of cause and
effect, and the concomitant notions of power
and action. He challenged reason to answer
him what title she had to imagine, that any
thing may be so constituted as that, if it be given,
something else is also thereby inferred; for the
idea of cause denotes this. He proved beyond
contradiction, that it is impossible for reason to
think of such a connection a priori, for it con¬
tains necessity ; but it is not possible to perceive
how, because something is, something else must
necessarily be; nor how the idea of such a con¬
nection can be introduced a priori.
“ Hence, he concluded, that reason entirely
deceives herself with this idea, and that she er¬
roneously considers it as her own child, when
it is only the spurious offspring of imagination,
impregnated by experience; a subjective neces¬
sity, arising from habit and the association of
ideas, being thus substituted for an objective one
derived from perception....However hasty and
unwarrantable Hume’s conclusion might appear,
yet it was founded upon investigation; and this
investigation well deserved, that some of the
philosophers of his time should have united to
solve, more happily if possible, the problem in
the sense in which he delivered it: A complete
reform of the science might have resulted from
this solution. But it is a mortifying reflection,
that his opponents, Reid, Beattie, Oswald, and,
lastly, Priestley himself, totally misunderstood
the tendency of his problem.3 The question was
not, whether the idea of cause be in itself proper
and indispensable to the illustration of all natu-
1 See the Preface of Kant to one of his Treatises, entitled Prolegomena ad Metaphysicam quamque futuram qurs qua Scienti'i
foterit prodire. I have availed myself in the text of the English version of Dr Willich, from the German original, which
I have carefully compared with the Latin version of Born. A few sentences, omitted by Willich, I have thought it worth
while to quote, at the foot of the page, from the Latin translation.—(Elem. of Critical Philosophy, by A. F. M. W illich, M. D.
P- 10. et seq. London, 1798.)
2 “ Humius.—Qui quidem nullam huic cognitionis parti lucem adfudit, sed tamen excitavit scintillam, de qua sane lumen
potuisset accendi, si ea incidisset in fomitem, facile accipientem, cujusque scintillatio diligenter alta fuerit et aucta.”
J “ Non potest sine certo quodam molestiae sensu percipi, quantopere ejus adversarii, Reidius, Oswaldus, Beattius, et tan¬
dem Priestleius, a scopo quaestionis aberrarent, et propterea quod ea semper acciperent pro concessis, quae ipse in dubium
yocaret, contra vero cum vehementia, et maximam partem cum ingenti immodestia ea probare gestirent, quae illi nunquam
in mentem venisset dubitare, nutum ejus ad emendationem ita negligerent, ut omnia in statu pristine maneret, quasi nihil
quidquam factum videretur.”
_ DISS. I. PART II. 2 B
194
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ral knowledge, for this Hume had never doubt¬
ed ; hut whether this idea he an object of thought
through reasoning a priori; and whether, in
this manner, it possesses internal evidence, in¬
dependently of all experience; consequently,
whether its utility be not limited to objects of
sense alone. It was upon this point that Hume
expected an explanation.1
« I freely own it was these suggestions of
Hume’s which fjrst, many years ago, roused me
from my dogmatical slumber, and gave to my
inquiries quite a different direction in the field
of speculative philosophy. I was far from being
carried away by his conclusions, the fallacy of
which chiefly arose from his not forming to him¬
self an idea of the whole of his problem, but mere¬
ly investigating a part of it, the solution of
which was impossible without a comprehensive
view of the whole. When we proceed on a well
founded, though not thoroughly digested thought,
we may expect, by patient and continued re¬
flection, to prosecute it farther than the acute
genius had done to whom we are indebted for
the first spark of this light. I first inquired,
therefore, whether Hume’s objection might not
be a general one, and soon found, that the idea
of cause and effect is far from being the only
one by which the understanding a priori thinks
of the connection of things; but rather that the
science of metaphysics is altogether founded
upon these connections. I endeavoured to as¬
certain their number; and, having succeeded in
this attempt, I proceeded to the examination of
those general ideas, which, I was now convin¬
ced, are not, as Hume apprehended, derived
from experience, but arise out of the pure under¬
standing. This deduction, which seemed im¬
possible to my acute predecessor, and which
nobody besides him had ever conceived, al¬
though every one makes use of these ideas,
without asking himself upon what their objec¬
tive validity is founded; this deduction, I say,
was the most difficult which could have been
undertaken for the behoof of metaphysics; and
what was still more embarrassing, metaphysics
could not here offer me the smallest assistance,
because that deduction ought first to establish
the possibility of a system of metaphysics. As
I had now succeeded in the explanation of
Hume’s problem, not merely in a particular in¬
stance, but with a view of the whole power of
pure reason, I could advance with sure though
tedious steps, to determine completely, and
upon general principles, the compass of Pure
Reason, both what is the sphere of its exertion,
and what are its limits; which was all that was
required for erecting a system of metaphysics
upon a proper and solid foundation.”
It is difficult to discover any thing in the fore¬
going passage on which Kant could found a
claim to the slightest originality. A variety of
English writers had, long before this work ap¬
peared, replied to Mr Hume, by observing that
the understanding is itself a source of new ideas,
and that it is from this source that our notions
of cause and effect are derived. “ Our cer¬
tainty (says Dr Price) that every new event re¬
quires some cause, depends no more on experi¬
ence than our certainty of any other the most
obvious subject of intuition. In the idea of every
change, is included that of its being an effect.”*
In the works of Dr Reid, many remarks of the
same nature are to be found; but, instead of
quoting any of these, I shall produce a passage
from a much older author, whose mode of think¬
ing and writing may perhaps be more agreehle
to the taste of Kant’s countrymen than the sim¬
plicity and precision aimed at by the disciples
of Locke.
“ That there are some ideas of the mind (says
Dr Cudworth), which were not stamped or im¬
printed upon it from the sensible objects with¬
out, and therefore must needs arise from the in¬
nate vigour and activity of the mind itself, is
evident, in that there are, First, Ideas of such
things as are neither affections of bodies, nor
could be imprinted or conveyed by any local
motions, nor can be pictured at all by the fancy
1 Although nothing can he more unjust than these remarks, in the unqualified form in which they are stated by Kant,
it must, I think, he acknowledged, that some grounds for them have been furnished by occasional passages which dropped
from the pens of most of Mr Hume’s Scottish opponents. . ,
2 Review of the Principal Questions and Difficulties in Morals, Chap. i. sect. 2. The first edition of this book was printe
in 1758. 75
DISSERTATION FIRST.
195
in any sensible colours; such as are the ideas of
wisdom, folly, prudence, imprudence, know¬
ledge, ignorance, verity, falsity, virtue, vice,
honesty, dishonesty, j ustice, injustice, volition,
cogitation, nay of sense itself, which is a species
of cogitation, and which is not perceptible by
any sense; and many other such like notions as
include something of cogitation in them, or refer
to cogitative beings only ; which ideas must
needs spring from the active power and innate
fecundity of the mind itself,1 because the cor¬
poreal objects of sense can imprint no such
things upon it. Secondly, In that there are
many relative notions and ideas, attributed as
well to corporeal as incorporeal things, that pro¬
ceed wholly from the activity of the mind com¬
paring one thing with another. Such as are
Cause, Effect, means, end, order, proportion,
similitude, dissimilitude, equality, inequality,
aptitude, inaptitude, symmetry, asymmetry,
whole and part, genus and species, and the like.”
Immutable Morality, pp. 148, 149.
It is not my business at present to inquire
into the solidity of the doctrine here maintained.
I would only wish to be informed what additions
have been made by Kant to the reply given to
Mr Hume by our English philosophers, and to
direct the attention of my readers to the close
resemblance between this part of Kant’s system,
and the argument which Cudworth opposed to
Hobbes and Gassendi considerably more than a
century ago.2
The following passage, from the writer last
quoted, approaches so nearly to what Kant and
other Germans have so often repeated of the dis¬
tinction between subjective and objective truth,
that I am tempted to connect it with the fore¬
going extract, as an additional proof that there
are, at least, some metaphysical points, on which
we need not search for instruction beyond our
own island.
“ If there were no other perceptive power, or
faculty, distinct from external sense, all our
perceptions would be merely relative, seeming,
and fantastical, and not reach to the absolute
and certain truth of any thing; and every one
would but, as Protagoras expounds, c think his
own private and relative thoughts truths,’ and
all our cogitations being nothing but appearan¬
ces, would be indifferently alike true phantasms,
and one as another.
“ But we have since also demonstrated, that
there is another perceptive power in the soul
superior to outward sense, and of a distinct na¬
ture from it, which is the power of knowing or
understanding, that is, an active exertion from
the mind itself. And, therefore, has this grand
eminence above sense, that it is no idiopathy, not
a mere private, relative, seeming, and fantasti¬
cal thing, but the comprehension of that which
absolutely is and is not.”5
After enlarging on the distinction between
the sensitive faculty and the understanding,
Kant proceeds to investigate certain essential
conditions, without which neither the sensitive
faculty nor its objects are conceivable. These
conditions are time and space, which, in the lan¬
guage of Kant, are the forms of all phenomena.
What his peculiar ideas are concerning their
nature and attributes, my readers will find stat¬
ed in his own words at the end of this Discourse,
in an extract from one of his Latin publica¬
tions.4 From that extract, I cannot promise
them much instruction; but it will at least en¬
able them to judge for themselves of the pecu¬
liar character of Kant’s metaphysical phraseo-
logy. In the mean time, it will be sufficient to
mention here, for the sake of connection, that
he denies the objective reality both of time and
of space. The former he considers merely as a
subjective condition, inseparably connected with
the frame of the human mind, in consequence
of which, it arranges sensible phenomena ac¬
cording to a certain law, in the order of succes¬
sion. As to the latter, he asserts, that it is
nothing objective or real, inasmuch as it is neither
1 This is precisely the language of the German school: “ Les verites necessaires, “ says Leibnitz, “ sont le produit im-
mediat de I’activitd interieure.”_(Tome I. p. C86. Tome II. pp. 42, 329. See Degerando, Hist. Comp. Tome II. p. 96.)
2 In the attempt, indeed, which Kant has made to enumerate all the general ideas which are not derived from expe¬
rience, but arise out of the pure understanding, he may well lay claim to the praise of originality. On this subject I shall
only refer my readers to Note X X at the end of this Dissertation.
3 Immutable Morality, p. 264, et seq.
* See Note Y Y.
196
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
a substance, nor an accident, nor a relation;
that its existence, therefore, is only subjective
and ideal, depending on a fixed law, inseparable
from the frame of the human mind. In conse¬
quence of this law, we are led to conceive all
external things as placed in space ; or, as Kant
expresses it, we are led to consider space as the
fundamental form of every external sensation. .
In selecting Kant’s speculations concerning
time and space, as a specimen of his mode of
writing, I was partly influenced by the consi¬
deration, that it furnishes, at the same time, a
remarkable example of the concatenation which
exists between the most remote and seemingly
the most unconnected parts of his system. Who
could suppose that his opinions on these sub¬
jects, the most abstract and the most contro¬
verted of any in the whole compass of metaphy¬
sics, bore on the great practical question of the
freedom of the Human Will ? The combina¬
tion appears, at first sight, so very extraordi¬
nary, that I have no doubt I shall gratify the
curiosity of some of my readers by mentioning a
few of the intermediate steps which, in this argu¬
ment, lead from the premises to the conclusion.
That Kant conceived the free agency of man
to be necessarily implied in his moral nature
(or, at least, that he was anxious to offer no
violence to the common language of the world
on this point), appears from his own explicit de¬
clarations in various parts of his works. “ Vo¬
luntas libera (says he in one instance) eadem
est cum voluntate legibus moralibus obnoxia.”1
In all the accounts of Kant’s philosophy,
which have yet appeared from the pens of his
admirers in this country, particular stress is
laid on the ingenuity with which he has unloos¬
ed this knot, which had baffled the wisdom of
all his predecessors. The following are the
words of one of his own pupils, to whom we are
indebted for the first, and, I think, not the- least
intelligible, view of his principles, which lias
been published in our language.*
“ Professor Kant is decidedly of opinion, that
although many strong and ingenious arguments
have been brought forward iu favour of the
freedom of the will, they are yet very far from
being decisive. Nor have they refuted the ar¬
guments urged by the Necessitarians, but by an
appeal to mere feeling, which, on such a ques¬
tion, is of no avail. For this purpose, it is in¬
dispensably necessary to call to our assistance
the principles of Kant.”
“ In treating this subject (continues the same
author), Kant begins with showing that the
notion of a Free Will is not contradictory. In
proof of this he observes, that, although every
human action, as an event in time, must have a
cause, and so on ad infinitum ; yet it is certain,
that the laws of cause and effect can have a
place there only where time is, for the effect
must be consequent on the cause. But neither
time nor space are properties of things; they
are only the general forms under which man is
allowed to view himself and the world. It fol¬
lows, therefore, that man is not in time nor in
space, although the forms of his intuitive ideas'
are time and space. But if man exist not in
time and space, he is not influenced by the laws
of time and space, among which those of cause
and effect hold a distinguished rank; it is, there¬
fore, no contradiction to conceive, that, in such
an order of things, man may be free.”5
In this manner Kant establishes the possibili¬
ty of man’s freedom ; and, farther than this, he
does not conceive himself warranted to proceed
on the principles of the critical philosophy. The
first impression, certainly, which his argument
1 See Born’s Latin Translation of Kant’s Works, relating to the Critical Philosophy. Yol. II. p. 325, ct sea. See also the
Preface to Vol. III. r e > a
2 A General and Introductory View of Professor Kant's Principles concerning Man, the World, and the Deity, submitted to the
consideration of the Learned, by F. A. Nitsch, late Lecturer on the Latin Language and Mathematics in the Royal Frederi-
cianum College at Kcinigsberg, and pupil of Professor Kant. London, 1796. * Pp. 172, 173.
This small performance is spoken of in terms highly favourable, by the other writers who have attempted to introduce
Kant’s philosophy into England. It is called by Dr Willich an excellent publication (Elements of the Critical Philosophy,
p. 62.); and is pronounced by the author of the elaborate articles on that subject in the Encyclopaedia Londonensis to be a ster¬
ling work. “ Though at present very little known, I may venture,” says this writer, “ to predict, that, as time rolls on,
and prejudices moulder away, this work, like the Elements of Euclid, will stand forth as a lasting monument of pure truth.”
—See Note Z Z. °
3 Nitsch, &c. pp. 174, 175.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
197
produces on the mind is, that his own opinion
was favourable to the scheme of necessity. For
if the reasonings of the Necessitarians be ad¬
mitted to be satisfactory, and if nothing can be
opposed to them but the incomprehensible pro¬
position, that man neither exists in space nor in
time, the natural inference is, that this proposi¬
tion was brought forward rather to save ap¬
pearances, than as a serious objection to the uni¬
versality of the conclusion.
Here, however, Kant calls to his aid the prin¬
ciples of what he ca\\s practical reason. Deeply
impressed with a conviction that morality is the
chief concern of man, and that morality and the
freedom of the human will must stand or fall to¬
gether, he exerts his ingenuity to show, that the
metaphysical proof already brought of the pos¬
sibility of free agency, joined to our own con¬
sciousness of a liberty of choice, affords evidence
of the fact fully sufficient for the practical regu¬
lation of our conduct, although not amounting
to what is represented as demonstration in the
Critique of Pure Reason.*
It is impossible to combine together these two
parts of the Kantian system, without being
struck with the resemblance they bear to the
deceitful sense of liberty to which Lord Kames
had recourse (in the first edition of his Essays
on Morality and Natural Religion), in order to
reconcile our consciousness of free agency with
the conclusions of the Necessitarians. In both
cases, the reader is left in a state of most un¬
comfortable scepticism, not confined to this par¬
ticular question, but extending to every other
subject which can give employment to the hu¬
man faculties.9
In some respects, the functions ascribed by
Kant to his practical reason are analogous to
those ascribed to common sense in the writings
of Beattie and Oswald. But his view of the
subject is, on the whole, infinitely more excep¬
tionable than theirs, inasmuch as it sanctions
the supposition, that the conclusions of pure
reason are, in certain instances, at variance with
that modification of reason which was meant by
our Maker to be our guide in life; whereas the
constant language of the other writers is, that
all the different parts of our intellectual frame
are in the most perfect harmony with each other.
The motto which Beattie has prefixed to his
book,
“ Nunquam aliud natura, aliud sapientia dicit,”
expresses, in a few significant words, the whole
substance of his philosophy.
1 The account of this part of Kant’s doctrine given by M. Buhle agrees in substance with that of Mr Kitsch : “ Toute
nioralite des actions repose uniquement sur la disposition practique, en tant qu’elle est deterniinee par la loi morale seule.
Si Ton considere cette disposition comme phenotnhie dans la conscience; e’est un evenement naturel, elle obeit a la loi de la
causalite, elle repose sur ce que I’homme a eprouve auparavant dans le terns, et elle fait partie du caractere empirique de
Phomme. Mais on peut aussi la conside'rer comme un acte de la liberte raisonnable: Alors elle n’est plus soumise a la loi
de la causalite ; elle est independante de la condition du temps, elle se rapporte a line cause intelligible, la liberte', et elle
fait partie du caractere intelligible de I’homme. On ne peut, a la verite, point acquerir la moindre connoissance des objets
intelligibles; mais la liberte n’est pas moins un fait de la conscience. Done les actions exterieures sont indifferentes pour
la nioralite de I’homme. La bonte morale de I’homme consiste uniquement dans sa volonte moralement bonne, et celle-ci
consiste en ce que la volonte soit de'termine'e par la loi morale seule.”—(Hist, dc la Philosophic Moderne, par J. G. Buille,
Tom. VI. pp. 504, 505.)
Very nearly to the same purpose is the following statement by the ingenious author of the article Leibnitz in the Bio-
graphie Universelle:—“ Comment accorder \efaturn et la liberte, 1’imputation morale et la dependence des etres finies ?
Kant croit e'chapper a cet ecueil en ne soumettant a la loi de causalite (au determinisme de Leibnitz) que le monde pheno-
njdnique, et en affranchissant de ce principe 1’ame comme noumene ou chose en soi, envisageant ainsi chaqiie action comme
appartenant a un double serie a la fois; a 1’ordre physique ou elle est enchainee a ce qui precede et a ce qui suit par les
liens communs de la nature, et a 1’ordre morale, oil une determination produit un effet, sans que pour expliquer cette voli¬
tion et son resultat, on soit renvoye d un dtat antecedent.”
The author of the above passage is M. Staffer, to whom we are indebted for the article Kant in the same work. For
KantWn view of the subject consult his Critique of Pure lieason, passim, particularly p. 99. et seq. of Born’s Translation,
2 The idea of Kant (according to his own explicit avowal) was, that every being, which conceives itself to be free, whe¬
ther it be in reality so or not, is rendered by its own belief a moral and accountable agent. “ Jam equidem dico: quseque
natura, quae non potest nisi sulj idea libertatis agere, propter id ipsum, respectu practico, reipsa libera est; hoc est, ad earn
valent cunctae leges, cum libei’tate arctissime conjunctae perinde, ac voluntas ejus etiam per se ipsam, et in philosophia
theoretica probata, libera declaretur—(Kantii Opera, Vol. II. p. 926.)
. This is also the creed professed by the Abbe' Galiani, a much more dangerous moralist than Kant, because he is always
intelligible, and often extremely lively and amusing. “ L’homme est done libre, puisqu’il est intimement persuade' de
1’etre, et que cela vaut tout autant que la liberte. * Voila done le mkhanisme dc I'univers explique clair comme de Veau de roche."
The same author farther remarks, “ La persuasion de la liberte' constitue 1’essence de I’homme. On pourroit meme ddfi-
nir 1 homme un animal qui se croit libre, et ce seroit une de'finition complete.”—f Correspondance de VAbbe Galiani, Tome I.
PP- 339, 340. A Paris, 1818.)
198 PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
It is to the same practical modification of
reason that Kant appeals in favour of the ex¬
istence of the Deity, and of a future state of re¬
tribution, both of which articles of belief he
thinks derive the whole of their evidence from
the moral nature of man. His system, there¬
fore, as far as I am able to comprehend it, tends
rather to represent these as useful cvcdcnda^ than
as certain or even as probable truths. Indeed,
the whole of his moral superstructure will he
found to rest ultimately on no better basis than
the metaphysical conundrum, that the human
mind (considered as a noumenon and not as a
phenomenon) neither exists in space nor in time.
That it was Kant’s original aim to establish a
system of scepticism, I am far from being dis¬
posed to think.1 The probability is, that he
began with a serious wish to refute the doctrines
of Hume; and that, in the progress of his in¬
quiries, he met with obstacles of which he was
not aware. It was to remove these obstacles
that he had recourse to practical reason ; an idea
which has every appearance of being an after¬
thought, very remote from his views when he
first undertook his work. This, too, would
seem, from the following passage (which I trans¬
late from Degerando), to have been the opinion
of one of Kant’s ablest German commentators,
M. Reinhold: 44 Practical Reason (as Reinhold
ingeniously observes) is a wing which Kant has
prudently added to his edifice, from a sense of
the inadequacy of the original design to answer
the intended purpose. It hears a manifest re¬
semblance to what some philosophers call an ap¬
peal to sentiment, founding belief on the neces¬
sity of acting. Whatever contempt Kant may
affect for popular systems of philosophy, this
manner of considering the subject is not unlike
the disposition of those who, feeling their inabi¬
lity to obtain, by the exercise of their reason, a
direct conviction of their religious creed, cling
to it nevertheless with a blind eagerness, as a
support essential to their morals and their hap¬
piness.^ {Hist. Comparee, Vol. II. pp. 243, 244.)
The extraordinary impression produced for a
considerable time in Germany, by the Critique
of Pure Reason, is very shrewdly, and I suspect
justly, accounted for by the writer last quoted:
44 The system of Kant was well adapted to flat¬
ter the weaknesses of the human mind. Curio¬
sity was excited, by seeing paths opened which
had never been trodden before. The love of
mystery found a secret charm in the obscurity
which enveloped the doctrine. The long and
troublesome period of initiation was calculated
to rouse the ambition of hold and adventurous
spirits. Their love of singularity was gratified
by the new nomenclature; while their vanity
exulted in the idea of being admitted into a privi¬
leged sect, exercising', and entitled to exercise,
the supreme censorship in philosophy. Even
men of the most ordinary parts, on finding
themselves called to so high functions, lost sight
of their real mediocrity, and conceived them¬
selves transformed into geniuses destined to
form a new era in the history of reason.
44 Another inevitable effect resulted from the
universal change operated by Kant in his terms,
in his classifications, in his methods, and in the
enunciation of his problems. The intellectual
powers of the greater part of the initiated were
too much exhausted in the course of their long
noviciate, to he qualified to judge soundly of the
doctrine itself. They felt themselves, after so
many windings, lost in a labyrinth, and were
unable to dispense with the assistance of th«
guide who had conducted them so far. Others,
after so great a sacrifice, wanted the courage to
confess to the world, or to themselves, the dis¬
appointment they had met with. They attached
themselves to the doctrine in proportion to the
sacrifice they had made, and estimated its value
by the labour it had cost them. As for more
superficial thinkers, they drew an inference from
the novelty of the form in favour of the novelty
of the matter, and from the novelty of the mat¬
ter in favour of its importance.
44 It is a great advantage for a sect to possess
_ 1 On the contrary, he declares explicitly (and I give hint full credit for the sincerity of his words), that he considered
his Critique^ of Pure Reason as the only effectual antidote against the opposite extremes of scepticism and of superstition, as
well as against various heretical doctrines which at present infect the schools of philosophy. “ Hac igitur sola (Philosophia
Critica) et materialismi, et fatalism!, et Atheismi, et diffidentise profanse, et fanatismi, et superstitionis, quorum virus ad
universes potest penetrare, tandemque etiam et idealismi et scepticism!, qui magis scholis sunt pestiferi, radices ipsae pos-
sunt p^secidi.’'—(Kant, Prof. Posterior, p. 85.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
199
a distinguishing garb and livery. It was thus
that the Peripatetics extended their empire so
widely, and united their subjects in one common
obedience. Kant had, over and above all this,
the art of insisting, that his disciples should
belong exclusively to himself. He explicitly
announced, that he was not going to found a
school of Eclectics, but a school of his own;
a school not only independent, but in some
measure hostile to every other; that he could
admit of no compromise with any sect whatever;
that he was come to overturn every thing which
existed in philosophy, and to erect a new edifice
on these immense ruins. The more decided and
arrogant the terms were in which he announced
his design, the more likely was it to succeed;
for the human mind submits more easily to an
unlimited than to a partial faith, and yields
itself up without reserve, rather than consent to
cavil about restrictions and conditions even in
favour of its own independence.’,
With these causes of Kant’s success another
seems to have powerfully conspired; the indis¬
soluble coherence and concatenation of all the
different parts of hi& philosophy. “ It is on this
concatenation (says M. Prevost) that the admi¬
ration of Kant’s followers is chiefly founded.”
Grant only (they boast) the first principles of the
Critical Philosophy, and you must grant the whole
system. The passage quoted on this occasion by
M. Prevost is so forcibly expressed, that I
cannot do it justice in an English version:
“ Ab hinc enim capitibus fluere necesse est om-
nem philosophic criticce rationis purse vim atque
virtutem; namque in ea contextus rerum pror-
sus mirabilis est, ita ut extrema primis, media
utrisque, omnia omnibus respondeant; si prima
dederis danda sunt omnia.”1 No worse ac¬
count could well have been given of a philo¬
sophical work on such a subject; nor could any
of its characteristical features have been pointed
out more symptomatic of its ephemeral reputa¬
tion. Supposing the praise to be just, it repre¬
sented the system, however fair and imposing
in its first aspect, as vitally and mortally vulne¬
rable (if at all vulnerable) in every point; and,
accordingly, it was fast approaching to its dis¬
solution before the death of its author. In Ger-
many, at present, we are told, that a pure Kan¬
tian is scarcely to be found.2 But there are
many Semi-Kantians and Anti-Kantians, as
well as partisans of other schemes built out of
the ruins of the Kantian philosophy.5 “ In
fine (says a late author), the Critique of Pure
Reason, announced with pomp, received with
fanaticism, disputed about with fury, after hav¬
ing accomplished the overthrow of the doctrines
taught by Leibnitz and Wolff, could no longer
support itself upon its own foundations, and has
produced no permanent result, but divisions and
enmities, and a general disgust at all systemati¬
cal creeds.” * If this last effect has really re¬
sulted from it (of which some doubts may per¬
haps be entertained), it may be regarded as a
favourable symptom of a sounder taste in mat¬
ters of abstract science, than has ever yet pre¬
vailed in that country.5
To these details, I have only to add a re-
. See some very valuable strictures on Kant, in the learned and elegant sketch of the present state of philosophy, sub-
joined to M. Prevost’s French translation of Mr Smith’s posthumous works. The Latin panegyric on the critical philoso¬
phy is quoted from a work with which I am unacquainted, Fred. Gottlob Bornil de Scientia et Conjectura.
2 On this subject, see Degerando, Tom. II. p. 333.
1 See Degerando and De Bonald.
4 The words in the original are, “ Un de'gdut gdnerale de toute doctrine.” But as the same word doctrine is, in a former
part of the same sentence, applied to the systems of Leibnitz and of Wolff, I have little doubt, that, in substituting for
doctrine the phrase systematical creeds, I have faithfully rendered the meaning of my author.—(See Recherches Philosoyhiques,
par M. De Bonald, Tom. I. pp. 43, 44.)
5 The passion of the Germans for systems is a striking feature in their literary taste, and is sufficient of itself to show,
that they have not yet passed their noviciate in philosophy. “ To all such (says Mr Maclaurin) as have just notions of
the Great Author of the Universe, and of his admirable workmanship, all complete and finished systems must appear very
suspicious.” At the time when he wrote, such systems had not wholly lost their partisans in England; and the name of
System continued to be a favourite title for a book even among writers of the highest reputation. Hence the System of
Moral Philosophy by Hutcheson, and the Complete System of Optics by Smith, titles which, when compared with the subse¬
quent progress of these two sciences, reflect some degree of ridicule upon their authors.
When this affectation of systematical method began, in consequence of the more enlarged views of philosophers, to give
way to that aphoristical style so strongly recommended and so happily exemplified by Lord Bacon, we find some writers
of the old school complaining of the innovation, in terms not unlike those in which the philosophy of the English has been
censured by some German critics. “ The best way (says Dr Watts) to learn any science, is to begin with a regular sys-
’200
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
mark of Degerando’s, which I have found amply-
confirmed within the circle of my own experi¬
ence. It might furnish matter for some useful
reflections, hut I shall leave my readers to draw
their own conclusions from it. 44 Another re¬
markable circumstance is, that the defence of
the Kantians turned, in general, not upon the
truth of the disputed proposition, but upon the
right interpretation of their master’s meaning,
and that their reply to all objections has con¬
stantly begun aud ended with these words, You
have not understood us.”
Among the various schools which have ema¬
nated from that of Kant, those of Fichte and
Schelling seem to have attracted among their
countrymen the greatest number of proselytes.
Of neither am I able to speak from my own
knowledge; nor can I annex any distinct idea
to the accounts which are given of their opinions
by others. Of Fichte’s speculations about the
philosophical import of the pronoun / f Qu’est-
ce que le moi ? as Degerando translates the ques¬
tion), I cannot make any thing. In some of
his remarks, he approaches to the language of
those Cartesians who, in the progress ot their
doubts, ended in absolute egoism: but the ego1
of Fichte has a creative power. It creates ex¬
istence, and it creates science ; two tilings (by the
way) which, according to him, are one and the
same. Even my own existence, he tells me,
commences only with the reflex act, by which
I think of the pure and primitive ego. On this
identity of the intelligent ego and the existing
ego (which Fichte expresses by the formula ego
= ego) all science ultimately rests.—But on this
part of his metaphysics it would be idle to en¬
large, as the author acknowledges, that it is not
to be understood without the aid of a certain
transcendental sense, the want of which is wholly
irreparable; a singular admission enough (as
Degerando observes), on the part of those criti¬
cal philosophers who have treated with so much
contempt the appeal to Common Sense in the
writings of some of their predecessors.®
44 In the history of beings there are (according
to Fichte) three grand epochs ; the first belongs
to the empire of chance ; the second is the reign
of nature; the third will he the epoch of the
existence of God. For God does not exist yet;
he only manifests himself as preparing to exist.
Nature tends to an apotheosis, and may be re¬
garded as a sort of divinity in the germ.”5
The account given by Madame de Stael of
this part of Fichte’s system is considerably dif¬
ferent : 44 He was heard to say, upon one oc¬
casion, that in his next lecture he 4 was going to
create God,’—an expression which, not without
reason, gave general offence. His meaning was,
that he intended to show how the idea of God
arose and unfolded itself in the mind of man.”4
How far this apology is well-founded, I am not
competent to judge.
The system of Schelling is, in the opinion of
Degerando, but an extension of that of- Fichte;
connecting with it a sort of Spinozism grafted
on Idealism. In considering the primitive ego
tern. Now (he continues), we deal much in essays, and unreasonably despise systematical learning; whereas our fathers
had a just value for regularity and systems.” Had Dr Watts lived a few years later, I doubt not that his good sense
would have led him to retract these hasty and inconsiderate decisions.
1 In order to avoid the intolerable aukwardness of such a phrase as the 7, I have substituted on this occasion the Latin
pronoun for the English one.
2 Hist. Compares, &c. Tome II. pp. 300, 301. See also the article Fichte in this Encyclopaedia.
3 Hist. Compares, &c. Tome II. p. 314. The doctrine here ascribed to Fichte by Degerando, although its unparalleled
absurdity might well excite some doubts about the correctness of the historian, is not altogether a novelty in the history
of philosophy. It is in point of fact nothing more than a return to those gross conceptions of the mind in the infancy ot
human reason, which Mr Smith has so well described in the following passage:—“ In the first ages of the world, the seem¬
ing incoherence of the appearances of nature so confounded mankind, that they despaired of discovering in her operations
any regular system Their gods, though they were apprehended to interpose upon some particular occasions, were
so far from being regarded as the creators of the world, that their origin was apprehended to be posterior to that of the
world. The earth (according to Hesiod) was the first production of the chaos. The heavens arose out of the earth, ana
from both together, all the gods who afterwards inhabited them. Nor was this notion confined to the vulgar, and to those
poets who seem to have recorded the vulgar theology The same notion of the spontaneous origin of the world was
embraced (as Aristotle tells us) by the early Pythagoreans. . . Mind, and understanding, and consequently Deity, being the
most perfect, were necessarily, according to them, the last productions of nature. For, in all other things, what was most
perfect, they observed, always came last: As in plants and animals, it is not the seed that is most perfect, but the complete
animal, with all its members in the one ; and the complete plant, with all its branches, leaves, flowers, and fruits, in the
other.”—(Smith’s Post. Essays on Philosophical Subjects, pp. 106, 107-)
De V Allemagne. Tome III. p. 107. Londres, 1813.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
201
as the source of all reality as well as of all science,
and in thus transporting the mind into an in^
telleetual region, inaccessible to men possessed
only of the ordinary number of senses, both
agree; and to this vein of transcendental mysti¬
cism may probably be ascribed the extraordinary
enthusiasm with which their doctrines appear to
have been received by the German youth. Since
the time when Degerando wrote, a new and
very unexpected revolution is said to have taken
place among Schelling’s disciples ; many of them,
originally educated in the Protestant faith, hav¬
ing thrown themselves into the bosom of the
Catholic church1 “ The union of the faith¬
ful of this school forms an invisible church,
which has adopted for its symbol and watch¬
word, the Virgin Mary; and hence rosaries are
sometimes to be seen in the hands of those who
reckon Spinoza among the greatest prophets.’>
It is added, however, with respect to this invi¬
sible church, that “ its members have embraced
the Catholic religion, not as the true religion,
but as the most poeticala thing not impro¬
bable among a people who have so strong a dis¬
position to mingle together poetry and meta¬
physics in the same compositions.3 But it is
painful to contemplate these sad aberrations of
human reason: nor would I have dwelt on them
so long as I have done, had I not been anxious
to convey to my readers a general, but I trust
not unfaithful, idea of the style and spirit of a
philosophy, which, within the short period of
our recollection, rose, flourished, and fell; and
which, in every stage of its history, furnished
employment to the talents of some of the most
learned and able of our contemporaries.5
The space which I have allotted to Kant has
so far exceeded what I intended he should oc¬
cupy, that I must pass over the names of many
of his countrymen much more worthy of public
attention. In the account given by Degerando
of the opponents of the Kantian system, some
remarks are quoted from different writers, which
convey a very favourable idea of the works from
which they are borrowed. Among these I would
more particularly distinguish those ascribed to
Jacobi and to Reinhold. In the Memoirs, too,
of the Berlin Academy, where, as Degerando
justly observes, the philosophy of Locke found
an asylum, while banished from the rest of
Germany, there is a considerable number of
metaphysical articles of the highest merit.4
Nor must I omit to mention the contributions
to this science by the university of Goettingen ;
more especially on questions connected with the
philosophy of language. I have great pleasure,
also, in acknowledging the entertainment I have
received, and the lights I have borrowed from
the learned labours of Meiners and of Herder;
but none of these are so closely connected with
the history of metaphysics as to justify me in
entering into particular details with respect to
them. I am ashamed to say that, in Great Bri¬
tain, the only one of these names which has
been much talked of is that of Kant; a circum¬
stance which, I trust, will apologise for the
length to which the foregoing observations have
extended.0
1 See a paper by M. G. Schweiehauser in the London Monthly Magazine for 1804, p. 207- iqq \ « -\rn
2 u Aussi les Allemands melent ils trop souvent la Metaphysique a la Poesie. —Allemagne, o. P‘, • r
* " aussi les Aiiemanas meienr ns rrop souvenr la metapnyaiquc a ao. *  * ,
thing (says Mr Hume) is more dangerous to reason than the flights of imagination, and no ing nTin.pl« ti,f,
more mistakes among philosophers. Men of bright fancies may, in this respect, be^ compare ^ o ^ ^ S 1
short
scripture represents as covering their eyes with their wings.”—( Treatise of Human Nature, o . . p- ,
3 According to a French writer, who appears to have resided many years in Germany, ant w o . , y- i.te
Essay on the Elements of Philosophy with many curious historical details concerning Lant ant *li’ . u Cette
and Schelling owed much of their reputation to the uncommon eloquence displayed in icir acac e ' (i;S(.ours.
doctrine sortait de la bouche de Fichte, revetu de ces ornemens qui donnent la jeunesse, a ear t,
On ne se lassait point en I’e'coutant.” . , ,Tr. , „ vonntnUnn i,n
Of Schelling he expresses himself thus:—“ Schelling, appele a Puniversite tie ^ 0UJp ^ ‘ ^, ■. ses connojs_
concours nombreux d’auditeurs, qu’il enchainait a ses leqons par la richesse de sa t ic ion I? Catbolinue ” (Essai sur
sances. De lit, il est venu a Munich, oil je le revis en 1813. On dit qu’il a enibrassela religion Cathohque. -(Essai sur
les Siemens de la Philosophic, par G. Gi.ey, Principal au College d’Alenqon. 1 ans, _ 7- PP- » , nrnfnvnd
< In a volume of this collection (for th^ year 1737), which happens to be Jiow lym^
and important Memoirs on Probabilities, by M. Prevost and M. I’Huilher. ^eitier o - ‘ ’ , , f omit this
man origin, but as the Academy of Beriin has had the merit to bring their papers before the public, I cou d not^mit t ns
opportuni^ of recommending them to the attention of my readers. To a very ^^nortunitv to ex.
vost and 1’Huillier, which has been the subject of some dispute, I am happy to aval m, Af,,- ,
press my unqualified assent (See pp. 15. and 31. of the memoirs belonging to the Classe de Philosophic Spe u .)
6 See Note AAA. g c
DISS. I. PART II.
202
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
The only other country of Europe from which
any contributions to metaphysical philosophy
could he reasonably looked for, during the eigh¬
teenth century, is Italy; and to this particular
branch of science I do not know that any Italian
of much celebrity has, in these later times, turn¬
ed his attention. The metaphysical works of
Cardinal Gerdil (a native of Savoy) are extolled
by some French writers ; but none of them have
ever happened to fall in my way.1 At a more
recent period, Genovesi, a Neapolitan philoso¬
pher8 (best known as apolitical economist), has
attracted a good deal of notice by some meta¬
physical publications. Their chief object is said
to be to reconcile, as far as possible, the opinions
of Leibnitz with those of Locke. “ Pendant
que Condillac donnait inutil ement des lemons a
un Prince d’ltalie, Genovesi en donnait avec
plus de succes a ses eleves Napolitains: il com-
binait le mieux qu’il lui etoit possible les theories
de Leibnitz, pour lequel il eut toujoursune pre¬
vention favorable, avec celle de Locke, qu’il
accredita le premier en Italie.”3 Various other
works of greater or less celebrity, from Italian
authors, seem to announce a growing taste in that
part of Europe for these abstract researches. The
names of Francisco Soave, of Biagioli, and of
Mariano Gigli, are advantageously mentioned by
their countrymen; but none of their works, as
far as I can learn, have yet reached Scotland.
Indeed, with the single exception of Boscovich,
I recollect no writer on the other side of the
Alps, whose metaphysical speculations have been
heard of in this island. This is the more to be
regretted, as the specimens he has given, both
of originality and soundness in some of his ab¬
stract discussions, convey a very favourable idea
of the schools in which he received his education.
The authority to which he seems most inclined
to lean is that of Leibnitz; but, on all important
questions he exercises his own judgment, and
often combats Leibnitz with equal freedom and
success. Remarkable instances of this occur in
his strictures on the principle of the sufficient rea¬
son, and in the limitations with which he has ad¬
mitted the law of continuity.
The vigour, and, at the same time, the ver¬
satility of talents, displayed in the voluminous
works of this extraordinary man, reflect the
highest honour on the country which gave him
birth, and would almost tempt one to give credit
to the theory which ascribes to the genial cli¬
mates of the south a beneficial influence on the
intellectual frame. Italy is certainly the only
His two first publications, which were directed against the philosophy of Locke (if we mav judge from their titles),
are not likely, m the present times, to excite any curiosity. 1. The Immateriality of the Soul Demonstrated against Mr Locke,
on the same. Principles on which this Philosopher has Demonstrated the Existence and the Immateriality of God. Turin, 1747.
‘t. Defence tf the Opinion of Malebranche, on the Nature and Origin of our Ideas, against the examination of Mr Locke. Turin,
7 j j. "Lie onv other works of Gerdil which I have seen referred to are, A Dissertation on the Incompatibility of the Prin-
Clples of Descartes with those of Spinoza ; and A Refutation of some Principles maintained in the Emile of Rousseau.
Ol this last performance, Rousseau is reported to have said, “ Voila I'unique icritpuhli'e contre moi que fai trouv'e digne
dttre luen (Nouveau Diet. Hist, article Gerdil.) _ In the same article, a reference is made to a public discourse of
le ce ebrated M. Mairan, of the Academy of Sciences, in which he pronounces the following judgment on Gerdil’s meta-
” P°WerS 1 Gerdilporte avec lui dans tons ces discours un esprit g'eometrique, qui manque trop souvent aux geometres
2 Born 1712, died 1769.
r o<£ Effiycl°pzdique, ou Analyse P.aisonnee des Productions les plus Rcmarqnabks dans la Littirature, les Sciences, et les Arts.
I Vol. 3me hvraison, p. 515. Pans, Mars 1819. (The writer of the article quoted in the text is M. Sarpi, an Italian by
bnrth, who, after having distinguished himself by various publications in his own country, has now (if I am not mistaken)
fixed his residence at Pans. In his own philosophical opinions, he seems to be a follower of Condillac’s school, otherwise
he would scarcely have spoken so highly as he has done of the French Ideologists: “ L’Ideologie qui, d’apres sa denomi-
nation recente pourrait etre consideree comme snecialement dnp amr Trance ^ : ^ 
 / , .. A .. ^   —^ A j.vAtwxuk'ista ; xatuiuyio uui, u uures sa uenuau'
nation recente pourrait etre consideree comme specialement due aux Francis, mais qui est aussi ancienne que la philoso.
feneration des idees et 1’analyse des facultes qui concourent a leur formation, n’est pas
phie, puisqu’elle a pour objet la generation ^
etrangere aux Italiens, comme on pourrait le croire.”)
C,011sidered’ hy historian of high reputation, as the reformer of Italian philosophy. If the execution of
ns ireatise on Logic corresponds at all to the enlitrlitened vipws wit-fi wtiir.li fUc 1.— 1 it
mptafkipn a 1q mnvairi’ * ’'ospettare da pin uotu moson aene aitre naziom, chi seppe amcchire di nuovi pregi la iogica, ia
e aiusti nreeetti d’-d r U Z cc ehre Gcnovesi. I uttoche molti fossero stati i filosofi che cercarono con sottili riflessioni,
e molt’ a^H” k 6 a Pensare ed a ragionare con esattezza e verith, e Bacone, Malebranche, Loke, Wolfio,
osservazioni e nunvi esau1nt° fluanto v’era da scrivere su tale arte, seppe nondimeno il Genovesi trovare nuore
filosofia e ffeneralmentp ^ lme.ntJ da PrePorro, e dare una lo^ica piu piena e compiuta, e piu utile non solo alio studio della
dc Prosressf e dello v lS ?^dl0 s^entifico, ma eziandio alia condotta morale, ed alia civile societa.”—fDrf/’ Oriyine,
nezia, 1800: attualed'Ogm Lctteratura deU’ Abate D. Giovanni Andres. Tomo XV. pp. 260. 261. Ve-
, ■ A -■ ■ f "• ' ■
DISSERTATION FIRST.
203
part of Europe where mathematicians and me¬
taphysicians of the highest rank have produced
such poetry as has proceeded from the pens of
Boscovich and Stay. It is in this rare balance
of imagination, and of the reasoning powers,
that the perfection of the human intellect will
be allowed to consist; and of this balance a far
greater number of instances may be quoted from
Italy (reckoning from Galileo1 downwards), than
in any other corner of the learned world.
The sciences of ethics, and of political eco¬
nomy, seem to be more suited to the taste of the
modern Italians, than logic or metaphysics, pro¬
perly so called. And in the two former bran¬
ches of knowledge, they have certainly con¬
tributed much to the instruction and improve¬
ment of the eighteenth century. But on these
subjects we are not yet prepared to enter.
In the New World, the state of society and of
manners has not hitherto been so favourable to
abstract science as to pursuits which come home
directly to the business of human life. There
is, however, one metaphysician of whom Ame¬
rica has to boast, who, in logical acuteness and
subtility, does not yield to any disputant bred
in the universities of Europe. I need not say,
that I allude to Jonathan Edwards. But, at the
time when he wrote, the state of America was
more favourable than it now is, or can for a
long period be expected to he, to such inquiries
as those which engaged his attention; inquiries,
by the way, to which his thoughts were evi¬
dently turned, less by the impulse of speculative
curiosity, than by his anxiety to defend the theo¬
logical system in which he had been educated,
and to which he was most conscientiously and
zealously attached. The effect of this anxiety in
sharpening his faculties, and in keeping his pole¬
mical vigilance constantly on the alert, may be
traced in every step of his argument.0
In the mean time, a new and unexpected
mine of intellectual wealth has been opened to
the learned of Europe, in those regions of the
East, which, although in all probability the
cradle of civilisation and science, were, till very
lately, better known in the annals of commerce
than of philosophy. The metaphysical and
ethical remains of the Indian sages are, in a pe¬
culiar degree, interesting and instructive; inas¬
much as they seem to have furnished the germs
of the chief systems taught in the Grecian schools.
The favourite theories, however, of the Hindoos
will, all of them, be found, more or less, tinc¬
tured with those ascetic habits of abstract and
mystical meditation which seem to have been, in
all ages, congenial to their constitutional tem¬
perament. Of such habits, an Idealism, ap¬
proaching to that of Berkeley and Malebranche,
is as natural an offspring, as Materialism is of
the gay and dissipated manners, which, in great
and luxurious capitals, are constantly inviting
the thoughts abroad.
To these remains of ancient science in the
1 See a most interesting account of Galileo’s taste for poetry and polite literature in Ginguene, Histoire LiUtraire
d'ltalie. Tome Y. pp. 331, et seq. d Paris, 1812.
2 While this Dissertation was in the press, I received anew American publication, entitled, “ Transactions of the. Histori¬
cal and Literary Committee of the American Philosophical Society, held at Philadelphia, for Promoting Useful Knowledge, Vol. t.
Philadelphia, 1819. From an advertisement prefixed to this volume, it appears that, at a meeting of this learned body
in 1815, it was resolved, “ That a new committee be added to those already established, to be denominated the Committee
of History, Moral Science, and General Literature.” It was with great pleasure I observed, that one of the fiist objects
to which the committee has directed its attention is to investigate and ascertain, as much as possible, the structure and
grammatical forms of the languages of the aboriginal nations of America. The Report of the corresponding secretary^ (M.
Duponceau), dated January 1819, with respect to the progress then made in this investigation, is highly curious and inte¬
resting, and displays not only enlarged and philosophical views, but an intimate acquaintance with the philological re¬
searches of Adelung, Vater, Humboldt, and other German scholars. All this evinces an enlightened curiosity, and an ex¬
tent of literary information, which could scarcely have been expected in these rising states for many years to come. . _
, The rapid progress which the Americans have lately made in the art of writing has been remarked by various critics,
and it is certainly a very important fact in the history of their literature. Their state papers were, indeed, always distin¬
guished by a strain of animated and vigorous eloquence ; but as most of them were composed on the spur of the occasion,
their authors had little time to bestow on the niceties, or even upon the purity of diction. An attention to these is the slow
offspring of learned leisure, and of the diligent study of the best models. This I presume was Gray s meaning, when he
said, that “good writing not onlv required great parts, but the very best of those parts —a maxim which, if true, would
point out the state of the public taste with respect to style, as the surest test among any people of the general improve¬
ment which their intellectual powers have received ; and which, when applied to our Trans-atlantic brethren, would justify
sanguine expectations of the attainments of the rising generation.
Note of Mason on a Letter of Gray’s to Dr Wharton, on the death of Dr Middleton.
204
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
East, the attention of Europe was first called by
Bernier, a most intelligent and authentic tra¬
veller, of whom I formerly took notice as a fa¬
vourite pupil of Gassendi. But it is chiefly by
our own countrymen that the field which he
opened has been subsequently explored; and of
their meritorious labours in the prosecution of
this task, during the reign of our late Sovereign, it
is scarcely possible to form too high an estimate.
Much more, however, may he yet expected,
if such a prodigy as Sir William Jones should
again appear, uniting, in as miraculous a degree,
the gift of tongues with the spirit of philosophy.
The structure of the Sanscrit, in itself, indepen¬
dently of the treasures locked up in it, aflords
one of the most puzzling subjects of inquiry
that was ever presented to human ingenuity.
The affinities and filiations of different tongues,
as evinced in their corresponding roots and
other coincidences, are abundantly curious, hut
incomparably more easy in the explanation, than
the systematical analogy which is said to exist
between the Sanscrit and the Greek (and also
between the Sanscrit and the Latin, which is
considered as the most ancient dialect of the
Greek), in the conjugations and flexions of their
verbs, and in many other particulars of their
mechanism ; an analogy which is represented as
so complete, that, in the versions which have
been made from the one language into the other,
“ Sanscrit,” we are told, “ answers to Greek,
as face to face in a glass.”1 That the Sanscrit
did not grow up to the perfection which it now
exhibits, from popular and casual modes of
speech, the unexampled regularity of its forms
seems almost to demonstrate; and yet, should
this supposition be rejected, to what other hypo¬
thesis shall we have recourse, which does not
involve equal, if not greater improbabilities?
The problem is well worthy of the attention of
philosophical grammarians; and the solution of
it, whatever it may be, can scarcely fail to throw
some new lights on the history of the human
race, as well as on that of the human mind.
SECTION VIII.
Metaphysical Philosophy of Scotland.
It now only remains for me to take a slight
survey of the rise and progress of the Meta¬
physical Philosophy of Scotland; and if, in
treating of this, I should be somewhat more
minute than in the former parts of this Histo¬
rical Sketch, I flatter myself that allowances will
be made for my anxiety to supply some chasms
in the literary history of my country, which
could not be so easily, nor perhaps so authenti¬
cally, filled up by a younger hand.
The Metaphysical Philosophy of Scotland, and,
indeed, the literary taste in general, which so
remarkably distinguished this country during
the last century, may be dated from the lectures
of Dr Francis Hutcheson, in the University of
Glasgow. Strong indications of the same spe¬
culative spirit maybe traced in earlier writers;*
but it was from this period that Scotland, after
a long slumber, began again to attract general
notice in the republic of letters.5
The writings of Dr Hutcheson, however, are
more closely connected with the history of
Ethical than of Metaphysical Science; and I
1 Letter from the Reverend David Brown, Provost of the College of Fort William, about the Sanscrit Edition of the
Gospels (dated Calcutta, September 180G, and published in some of the Literary Journals of the day.)
2 See Note B B B.
3 An Italian writer of some note, in a work published in 1763, assigns the same date to the revival of letters in Scotland.
“ Fra i tanti, e si chiari Scrittori che fiorirono ijella Gran Bretagna a’ tempi della Regina Anna, non se ne conta pur uno,
DISSERTATION FIRST.
205
shall, accordingly, delay any remarks which I
have to offer upon them till I enter upon that
part of my subject. There are, indeed, some
very original and important metaphysical hints
scattered over his works; but it is chiefly as
an ethical writer that he is known to the world,
and that he is entitled to a place among the
philosophers of the eighteenth century.1
Among the contemporaries of Dr Hutcheson,
there was one Scottish metaphysician (Andrew
Baxter, author of the Inquiry into the Nature of
the Human Soul), whose name it would be im¬
proper to pass over without some notice, after
the splendid eulogy bestowed on his work by
Warburton. £< He who would see the justest
and precisest notions of God and the soul may
read this book, one of the most finished of the
kind, in my humble opinion, that the present
times, greatly advanced in true philosophy, have
produced”2
To this unqualified praise, I must confess, I
do not think Baxter’s Inquiry altogether entitled,
although I readily acknowledge that it displays
considerable ingenuity, as well as learning.
Some of the remarks on Berkeley’s argument
against the existence of matter are acute and
just, and, at the time when they were published*
had the merit of novelty.
One of his distinguishing doctrines is, that
the Deity is the immediate agent in producing
the phenomena of the Material World ; but that,
in the Moral World, the case is different,—a
doctrine which, whatever may be thought of it
in other respects, is undoubtedly a great im¬
provement on that of Malebranche, which, by
representing God as the only agent in the uni¬
verse, was not less inconsistent than the scheme
of Spinoza with the moral nature of Man. “ The
Deity (says Baxter) is not only at the head of
Nature, but in every part of it. A chain of
material causes betwixt the Deity and the effect
produced, and much more a series of them, is
such a supposition as would conceal the Deity
from the knowledge of mortals for ever. We
might search for matter above matter, till we
were lost in a labyrinth out of which no phi¬
losopher ever yet found his way.—This way of
bringing in second causes is borrowed from the
government of the moral world, where free
agents act a part; but it is very improperly ap-
che sia uscito di Scozia Francesco Hutcheson venuto in Iscozia, a professarvi la Filosofia, e gli studii di umanita,
nella Universita di Glasgow, v’insinuo per tutto il paese colie istruzione a viva voce, e con egregie opere date alle stampe,
un vivo genio per gli studii filosofici, e literarii, e sparse qui fecondissimi semi, d’onde vediamo nascere si felice frutti, e si
copiose.”—(Discorso sopra le Vicende della Litteratnra, del Sig. Carlo Denina, p. 224, Glasgow edit. 1763.)
I was somewhat surprised to meet with the foregoing observations in the work of a foreigner ; but, wherever he acquired
his information, it evinces, in those from ivhom it was derived, a more intimate acquaintance with the traditionary history
of letters in this country than has fallen to the share of most of our own authors who have treated of that subject. I have
heard it conjectured, that the materials of his section on Scottish literature had been communicated to him by Mr Hume.
Another foreign writer, much better qualified than Denina to appreciate the merits of Hutcheson, has expressed him¬
self upon this subject with his usual precision. “ L’ecole Ecossaise a en quelque sorte pour fondateur Hutcheson, maitre
et predecesseur de Smith. C’est ce philosophe qui lui a imprime son caractere, et qui a commence a lui donner de
1’eclat.” In a note upon this passage, the author observes,—“ C’est en ce seul sens qu’on peut donner un chef a une
£cole de philosophie qui, comme on le verra, professe d’ailleurs la plus parfaite independance de lautoiite. (bee the
excellent reflections upon the posthumous works of Adam Smith, annexed by M. Prevost to his translation ot that
work.) , .
Dr Hutcheson’s first course of lectures at Glasgow was given in 1730. He was a native of Ireland, and.is accord¬
ingly called by Denina “ un dotto Irlandese;” but he was of Scotch extraction (his father or grandfather having been a
younger son of a respectable family in Ayrshire), and he was sent over when very young to receive Ins education in
Scotland. <
1 One of the chief objects of Hutcheson’s writings was to oppose the licentious system of Mancevi e; a sys em
which was the natural offspring of some of Locke’s reasonings against the existence of innate practical principles.
As a moralist, Hutcheson was a warm admirer of the ancients, and seems to have been particularly smitten with
that favourite doctrine of the Socratic school which identifies the good with the beautiful. Hence he was led to fo ow
much too closely the example of Shaftesbury, in considering moral distinctions as founded more on sentiment t an
on reason, and to speak vaguely of virtue as a sort of noble enthusiasm ; but he was led, at the same time, to connect
with his ethical speculations some collateral inquiries concerning Beauty and Harmony, in which he pursued, with con¬
siderable success, the path recently struck out by Addison in his Essays on the Pleasures of the Imagination. These in¬
quiries of Hutcheson, together with his Thoughts on Laughter, althoifgh they may not be very highly prized for t
depth, bear everywhere the marks of an enlarged and cultivated mind, and, whatever may Kl'e e^n ltir e.. f ,
where, certainly contributed powerfully, in our Northern seats of learning., to introduce, a taste for more liberal
elegant pursuits than could have been expected so soon to succeed to the intolerance, bigotry, and barbarism of the
preceding century. „ ,
2 See Warburton’s Divine Legation of Moses demonstrated, p. 395 of the first edition.
t
206
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS
plied to the material universe, where matter and
motion only (or mechanism, as it is called) comes
in competition with the Deity.”1
Notwithstanding, however, these and other
merits, Baxter has contributed so little to the
advancement of that philosophy which has since
been cultivated in Scotland, that I am afraid the
very slight notice I have now taken of him may
he considered as an unseasonable digression.
The great object of his studies plainly was, to
strengthen the old argument for the soul’s im¬
materiality, by the new lights furnished by New¬
ton’s discoveries. To the intellectual and moral
phenomena of Man, and to the laws by which
they are regulated, he seems to have paid but
little attention.2
While Dr Hutcheson’s reputation as an au¬
thor, and still more as an eloquent teacher, was
at its zenith in Scotland, Mr Hume began his
literary career, by the publication of his Treatise
of Human Nature. It appeared in 1739, but
seems at that time to have attracted little or no
attention from the public. According to the
author himself, “ never literary attempt was
more unfortunate. It fell dead-born from the
press, without reaching such distinction as even
to excite a murmur among the zealots.” It
forms, however, a very important link in this
Historical Sketch, as it has contributed, either
directly or indirectly, more than any other single
work, to the subsequent progress of the Philo¬
sophy of the Human Mind. In order to adapt
his principles better to the public taste, the author
afterwards threw them into the more popular
form of Essays; but it is in the original work
that philosophical readers will always study his
system, and it is there alone that the relations
and bearings of its different parts, as well as its
connection with the speculations of his imme¬
diate predecessors, can be distinctly traced. It
is there, too, that his metaphysical talents ap¬
pear, in my opinion, to the greatest advantage;
nor am I certain that he has anywhere else dis¬
played more skill or a sounder taste in point of
composition.3
The great objects of Mr Hume’s Treatise of
1 Appendix to the first part of the Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul, pp. 109, 110.
2 Baxter was born at Old Aberdeen, in 1686 or 1687, and died at Whittingham, in East Lothian, in 1750. I have not
been able to discover the date of the first edition of his Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul, but the second edition ap¬
peared in 1737, two years before the publication of Mr Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature.
3 A gentleman, who lived in habits of great intimacy with Dr iieid towards the close of his life, and on whose accuracy
I can fully depend, remembers to have heard him Say repeatedly, that “ Mr Hume, in his Essays, appeared to have forgot¬
ten his Metaphysics” Nor will this supposition be thought improbable, if, in addition to the subtle and fugitive nature of
the subjects canvassed in the Treatise of Human Nature, it be considered that long before the publication of his Essays, Mr
Hume had abandoned all his metaphysical researches. In proof of this, I shall quote a passage from a letter of his to Sir
Gilbert Elliot, which, though without a date, seems from its contents to have been written about 1750 or 1751. The pas¬
sage is interesting on another account, as it serves to show how much Mr Hume undervalued the utility of mathematical
learning, and consequently how little he was aware of its importance, as an organ of physical discovery, and as the founda¬
tion of some of the most necessary arts of civilised life. “ I am sorry that our correspondence should lead us into these ab¬
stract speculations. I have thought, and read, and composed very little on such questions of late. Morals, politics, and
literature, have employed all my time ; but still the other topics I must think more curious, important, entertaining, and
useful, than any geometry that is deeper than Euclid.”
I have said that it is in Mr Hume’s earliest rvork that his metaphysical talents appear, in my opinion, to the greatest
advantage. From the following advertisement, however, prefixed, in the latest editions of his works, to the second volume
of his Essays and Treatises, Mr Hume himself would appear to have thought differently. “ Most of the principles and rea¬
sonings contained in this volume were published in a work in three volumes, called A Treatise of Human Nature; a work
which the author had projected before he left College, and which he wrote and published not long after. But not finding
it successful, he was sensible of his error in going to the press too early, and he cast the whole anew in the following pieces,
where some negligencies in his former reasoning, and some in the expression, are, he hopes, corrected. Yet several wri¬
ters, who have honoured the author’s philosophy with answers, have taken care to direct all their batteries against that ju¬
venile work, which the author never acknowledged, and have affected to triumph in any advantage which they imagined
they had obtained over it; a practice very contrary to all rules of candour and fair dealing, and a strong instance of those
polemical artifices which a bigoted zeal thinks itself authorised to employ. Henceforth, the author desires, that the follow¬
ing pieces may alone be regarded as containing his philosophical sentiments and principles.”
After this declaration, it certainly would be highly uncandid to impute to Mr Hume any philosophical sentiments or
principles not to be found in his Philosophical Essays, as well as in his Treatise. But where is the unfairness of replying to any
plausible arguments in the latter work, even although Mr Hume may have omitted them in his subsequent publications;
more especially where these arguments supply any useful lights for illustrating his more popular compositions ? The
Treatise of Human Nature will certainly be remembered as long as any of Mr Hume’s philosophical writings ; nor is any
person qualified either to approve or to reject his doctrines, who has not studied them in the systematical form in which
they were originally cast. That Mr Hume’s remonstrance may be just with respect to some of his adversaries, I believe
to be true ; but it is surely expressed in a tone more querulous and peevish than is justified by the occasion.
I shall take this opportunity of preserving another judgment of Mr Hume’s (still more fully stated) on the merits of this
DISSERTATION FIRST.
207
Human Nature will be best explained in his own
words.
<£ ’Tis evident that all the sciences have a re¬
lation, greater or less, to human nature, and
that, however wide any of them may seem to
run from it, they still return back by one pas¬
sage or another. Even Mathematics, Natural
Philosophy, and Natural Religion, are in some
measure dependent on the science of Man, since
they lie under the cognisance of men, and are
judged of by their powers and faculties 
If, therefore, the sciences of Mathematics, Na¬
tural Philosophy, and Natural Religion, have
such a dependence on the knowledge of man,
what may be expected in the other sciences,
whose connection with human nature is more
close and intimate ? The sole end of logic is to
explain the principles and operations of our rea¬
soning faculty, and the nature of our ideas :
Morals and criticism regard our tastes and sen¬
timents, and politics consider men as united in
society, and dependent on each other.   
Here, then, is the only expedient from which
we can hope for success in our philosophical re¬
searches, to leave the tedious lingering method
which we have hitherto followed, and, instead
of taking now and then a castle or village on
the frontier, to march up directly to the capital
or centre of these sciences, to human nature it¬
self; which, being once masters of, we may
everywhere else hope for an easy victory. From
this station we may extend our conquests over
all those sciences which more intimately concern
human life, and may afterwards proceed at lei¬
sure to discover more fully those which are the
objects of pure curiosity. There is no question
of importance whose decision is not comprised
m the Science of Man, and there is none which
can be decided with any certainty before we be¬
come acquainted with that science. In pre¬
tending, therefore, to explain the principles of
Human Nature, we, in effect, propose a com¬
plete system of the sciences, built on a foun¬
dation almost entirely new, and the only one
upon which they can stand with any security.
“ And, as the science of man is the only solid
foundation for the other sciences, so the only
solid foundation we can give to this science it¬
self must be laid on experience and observa¬
tion. ’Tis no astonishing reflection to consider,
that the application of experimental philosophy
to moral subjects should come after that to na¬
tural, at the distance of above a whole century ;
since we find, in fact, that there was about the
same interval betwixt the origin of these sci¬
ences ; and that, reckoning from Thales to So¬
crates, the space of time is nearly equal to that
betwixt my Lord Bacon and some late philoso¬
phers in England,1 who have begun to put the
science of man on a new footing, and have en¬
gaged the attention, and excited the curiosity of
the public.”
I am far from thinking, that the execution of
Mr Hume’s work corresponded with the mag¬
nificent design sketched out in these observa¬
tions ; nor does it appear to me that he had form¬
ed to himself a very correct idea of the manner
in which the experimental mode of reasoning
ought to be applied to moral subjects. He had,
however, very great merit in separating entire¬
ly his speculations concerning the philosophy of
the mind from all physiological hypotheses about
the nature of the union between soul and body;
and although, from some of his casual expres¬
sions, it may be suspected that he conceived our
intellectual operations to result from bodily or¬
ganisation, 2 he had yet much too large a share of
good sense and sagacity to suppose, that, bystudy-
juveniJ6 work. I copy it from a private letter written by himself to Sir Gilbert Elliot, soon after the publication of his
i hilosophical Essays.
I believe the Philosophical Essays contain every thing of consequence relating to the Understanding, which you would
roeet with in the Treatise ; and I give you my advice against reading the latter. By shortening and simplifying the ques-
ions, I really render them more complete. Addo dum minuo. The philosophical principles are the same in both; but I was
earned away by the heat of youth and invention to publish too precipitately. So vast an undertaking, planned before I was
f>ne and twenty, and composed before twenty-five, must necessarilv be very defective. I have repented my haste a hun¬
dred and a hundred times.”
I ” ^ Locke, Lord Shaftesbury, Dr Mandeville, Mr Hutcheson, Dr Butler,” &c.
f he only expression in his works I can recollect at present, that can give any reasonable countenance to such a suspi-
Post^umous Dialogues, where he speaks of “ that little agitation of the brain which we call thought.”—
l- Edition, pp. 69, 61.) But no fair inference cafi be drawn from this, as the expression is put into the mouth of Philo
e Sceptic; whereas the author intimates that Cleanthes speaks his own sentiments.
208
preliminary dissertations.
ing the latter, it is possible for human ingenuity
to throw any light upon the former. His works,
accordingly, are perfectly free from those gra¬
tuitous and wild conjectures, which a few years
afterwards were given to the world with so much
confidence by Hartley and Bonnet. And in this
respect his example has been of infinite use to
his successors in this northern part of the island.
Many absurd theories have, indeed, at different
times been produced by our countrymen ; hut I
know of no part of Europe where such systems
as those of Hartley and Bonnet have been so
uniformly treated with the contempt they de¬
serve as in Scotland.1
Nor was it in this respect alone, that IMr
Hume’s juvenile speculations contributed to for¬
ward the progress of our national literature.
Among the many very exceptionable doctrines
involved m them, there are various discussions,
equally refined and solid, in which he has hap¬
pily exemplified the application of metaphysical
analysis to questions connected with taste, with
the philosophy of jurisprudence, and with the
theory of government. Of these discussions
some afterwards appeared in a more popular
form in his philosophical and literary Essays,
and still retain a place in the latest editions of
his works; but others, not less curious, have
been suppressed by the author, probably from
an idea, that they were too abstruse to interest
the curiosity of ordinary readers. In some of
these practical applications of metaphysical
principles, we may perceive the germs of several
inquiries which have since been successfully
prosecuted by Mr Hume’s countrymen; and,
among others, of those which gave birth to Lord
Karnes’s Historical Law Tracts, and to his Ele¬
ments of Criticism.
The publication of Mr Hume’s Treatise was
attended with another important effect in Scot¬
land. He had cultivated the art of writing with
much greater success than any of his predeces¬
sors, and had formed his taste on the best models
of English composition. The influence of his
example appears to have been great and gene¬
ral ; and was in no instance more remarkable
than in the style of his principal antagonists, all
of whom, in studying his system, have caught,
in no inconsiderable degree, the purity, polish,
and precision of his diction. Nobody, I believe,
will deny, that Locke himself, considered as an
English writer, is far surpassed, not only by
Hume,' but by Reid, Campbell, Gerard, and
Beattie; and of this fact it will not be easy to
find a more satisfactory explanation, than in the
critical eye with which they were led to canvass
a work, equally distinguished by the depth of
its reasonings, and by the attractive form in
which they are exhibited.
The fundamental principles from which Mr
Hume sets out, differ more in words than in
substance from those of his immediate prede¬
cessors. According to him, all the objects of
our knowledge are divided into two classes, im¬
pressions and ideas : the former, comprehending
our sensations, properly so called, and also our
perceptions of sensible qualities (two things be¬
twixt which Mr Hume’s system does not lead
him to make any distinction); the latter, the
objects of our thoughts when we remember or
imagine, or in general exercise any of our intel¬
lectual powers on things which are past, ab¬
sent, or future. These ideas he considers as
copies of our impressions, and the words which
denote them as the only signs, entitled to the at¬
tention of a philosopher ; every word professing
to denote an idea, of which the corresponding
impressions cannot be pointed out, being ipso
facto unmeaning and illusory. The obvious re¬
sult of these principles is, that what Mr Hume
calls impressions, furnish, either immediately or
mediately, the whole materials about which our
thoughts can be employed; a conclusion coin¬
ciding exactly with the account of the origin of
our ideas borrowed by Gassendi from the an¬
cient Epicureans.
With this fundamental principle of the Gas-
sen (lists, Mr Hume combined the logical method
recommended by their great antagonists the
Cartesians, and (what seemed still more remote
from his Epicurean starting ground) a strong
leaning to the idealism of Malebranche and of
1 In no part of Mr Hume’s metaphysical writings is there the slightest reference to either of these systems, althoua
survived the date of their publication little less than thirty years.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
209
Berkeley. Like Descartes, he began with doubt- From what has been already said, it may be
ing of every thing, but he was too quick-sighted seen, that we are not to look in Mr Hume’s
to be satisfied, like Descartes, with the solutions Treatise for any regular or connected system,
given by that philosopher of his doubts. On It is neither a scheme of Materialism, nor a
the contrary, he exposes the futility not only of scheme of Spiritualism; for his reasonings strike
the solutions proposed by Descartes himself, but equally at the root of both these theories. His
of those suggested by Locke and others among aim is to establish a universal scepticism, and
his successors; ending at last where Descartes to produce in the reader a complete distrust in
began, in considering no one proposition as more his own faculties. For this purpose he avails
certain, or even as more probable than another, himself of the data assumed by the most op-
That the proofs alleged by Descartes of the ex- posite sects, shifting his ground skilfully from
istence of the material world are quite incon- one position to another, as best suits the scope
elusive, had been already remarked by many, of his present argument. With the single ex-
Nay, it had been shown by Berkeley and others, ception of Bayle, he has carried this sceptical
that if the principles be admitted on which Des- mode of reasoning farther than any other mo-
cartes, in common with all philosophers, from dern philosopher. Cicero, who himself belong-
Aristotle downwards, proceeded, the existence ed nominally to the same school, seems to have
of the material world is impossible. A few bold thought, that the controversial habits imposed
thinkers, distinguished by the name of Egoists, . on the Academical sect by their profession of
had gone still farther than this, and had pushed universal doubt, required a greater versatility of
their scepticism to such a length, as to doubt talent and fertility of invention, than were ne-
of everything but their own existence. Accord- cessary for defending any particular system of
ing to these, the proposition, cogito, ergo sum, is tenets;1 and it is not improbable, that Mr Hume,
the only truth which can he regarded as abso- in the pride of youthful genius, was misled by
lately certain. It was reserved for Mr Hume this specious but very fallacious idea. On the
to call in question even this proposition, and to other hand, Bayle has the candour to acknow-
admit only the existence of impressions and ideas, ledge, that nothing is so easy as to dispute after
To dispute against the existence of these he the manner of the sceptics;8 and to this propo-
conceived to be impossible, inasmuch as they sition every man of reflection will find himself
are the immediate subjects of consciousness, more and more disposed to assent, as he ad-
But to admit the existence of the thinking and vances in life. It is experience alone that can
percipient I, was to admit the existence of that convince us, how much more difficult it is to
imaginary substance called Mind, which (ac- make any real progress in the search after
cording to him) is no more an object of human truth, than to acquire a talent for plausible dis-
knowledge, than the imaginary and exploded putation.5
substance called Matter. That this spirit of sceptical argument has been
1 “Nam si singulas disciplinas percipere magnum est, quanto majus omnes ? quod facere iis necesse est, quibus proposi-
turn est, veri reperiendi causa, et contra omnes philosophos'et pro omnibus dicere.—Cujus rei tantse tamque difficilis facul-
tatem consecutum esse me non profiteer: Secutum esse prae me fero.”—(Ciceiio De Nat. Dear. 1. i. v.)
2 See the passage quoted from Bayle, in page 86 of this Dissertation. _
, 3 I*1 the very interesting account, given by Dr Holland, of Velara, a modern Greek physician, whom he met with at La¬
rissa in fhessaly, a few slight particulars are mentioned, which let us completely into the character of that ingenious per¬
son. It appeared,” says Dr Holland, “ that Velara had thought much on the various topics of Metaphysics and Morals^
and his conversation on these topics bore the same tone of satirical scepticism which was apparent as the general feature ot
his opinions. We spoke of the questions of Materialism and Necessity, on both of which he declared aq affirmative opi¬
nion. -—(Holland’s Travels in the Ionian Isles, &c. p. 275.) “ I passed this evening with Velara at his own house, and sat
with him till a late hour. During part of the time our conversation turned upon metaphysical topics, and chiefly on the
old Pyrrhonic doctrine of the non-existence of Matter. Velara, as usual, took the sceptical side of the argument, in which
he showed much ingenuity and great knowledge of the more eminent controversialists on this and other collateral subjects. —
(Ibid. p. 3y0.) We see here a lively picture of a character daily to be met with in more polished and learned societies, dis-
Puting not for truth but for victory; in the first conversation professing himself a Materialist; and in the second denying
tiie existence of Matter ; on both occasions, taking up that ground where he was most likely to provoke opposition. If any
inference is to be drawn from the conversation of such an individual, with respect to his real creed, it is in favour of those
KISS. I. PART II. 2 D
210
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
carried to a most pernicious excess in modern
Europe, as well as among the ancient Academics,
will, I presume, he now very generally allowed;
hut in the form in which it appears in Mr Hume s
Treatise, its mischievous tendency has been more
than compensated by the importance of those re¬
sults for which it has prepared the way. The
principles which he assumes were sanctioned in
common by Gassendi, by Descartes, and by
Locke; and from these, in most instances, he
reasons with great logical accuracy and force.
The conclusions to which he is thus led are often
so extravagant and dangerous, that he ought to
have regarded them as a proof of the unsoundness
of his data; but if he had not the merit of draw¬
ing this inference himself, he at least forced it
so irresistibly on the observation of his successors,
as to be entitled to share with them in the ho¬
nour of their discoveries. Perhaps, indeed, it
may be questioned if the errors which he adopted
from his predecessors would not have kept their
ground till this day, had not his sagacity display¬
ed so clearly the consequences which they ne¬
cessarily involve. It is in this sense that we
must understand a compliment paid to him by
the ablest of his adversaries, when he says, that
“ Mr Hume’s premises often do more than atone
for his conclusions.”1
The bias of Mr Hume’s mind to scepticism
seems to have been much encouraged, and the
success of his sceptical theories in the same pro¬
portion promoted, by the recent attempts of
Descartes and his followers to demonstrate Self-
evident Truths;—attempts which Mr Hume
clearly perceived to involve, in every instance,
that sort of paralogism which logicians call rea¬
soning in a circle. The weakness of these pre¬
tended demonstrations is triumphantly exposed
in the Treatise of Human Nature ; and it is not
very wonderful that the author, in the first en¬
thusiasm of his victory over his immediate pre¬
decessors, should have fancied that the incon¬
clusiveness of the proofs argued some unsound¬
ness in the propositions which they were em¬
ployed to support. It would, indeed, have done
still greater honour to his sagacity if he had as¬
cribed this to its true cause—the impossibility
of confirming, by a process of reasoning, the
fundamental laws of human belief; but (as Bacon
remarks) it does not often happen to those who
labour in the field of science, that the same per¬
son who sows the seed should reap the harvest.
From that strong sceptical bias which led this
most acute reasoner, on many important ques¬
tions, to shift his controversial ground according
to the humour of the moment, one favourable
consequence has resulted—that we are indebted
to him for the most powerful antidotes we pos¬
sess against some of the most poisonous errors
of modern philosophy. I have already made a
similar remark in speaking of the elaborate re¬
futation of Spinozism by Bayle ; but the argu¬
ment stated by Hume, in his Essay on the Idea
of Necessary Connection (though brought forward
by the author with a very different view), forms
a still more valuable accession to metaphysical
science, as it lays the axe to the very root from
which Spinozism springs. The cardinal prin¬
ciple on which the whole of that system turns
is, that all events, physical and moral, are ne¬
cessarily linked together as causes and effects;
from which principle all the most alarming con¬
clusions adopted by Spinoza follow as unavoid¬
able and manifest corollaries. But, if it be true,
as Mr Hume contends, and as most philosophers
now admit, that physical causes and effects are
known to us merely as antecedents and conse¬
quents ; still more, if it be true that the word ne¬
cessity, as employed in this discussion, is alto¬
gether unmeaning and insignificant, the whole
system of Spinoza is nothing better than a rope
of sand, and the very proposition which it pro-
opinions which he controverts. These opinions, at least, we may confidently conclude to he agreeable to the general e
of the country where he lives. _ _ , . f • m|
1 Mr Hume himself (to whom Dr Reid’s Inquiry was communicated previous to its publication, by their common
Dr Blair) seems not to have been dissatisfied with this apology for some of his speculations. “ I shall only say (t1.6 ‘
serves in a letter addressed to the author), that if you have been able to clear up these abstruse and important subje ,
instead of being mortified, I shall be so vain as to pretend to a share of the praise, and shall think that my errors, by a -
ing at least some coherence, had led you to make a more strict review of my principles, which were the common ones’a.,
to perceive their futility.”-—(Dor the whole of Mr Hume’s letter, see Biographical Memoirs of Smith. Robertson, and ivei ,
by the author of this Dissertation, p. 417.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
211
fesses to demonstrate is incomprehensible by our
faculties. Mr Hume’s doctrine, in the unquali¬
fied form in which he states it, may lead to other
consequences not less dangerous : but, if he had
not the good fortune to conduct metaphysicians
to the truth, he may at least be allowed the merit
of having shut up for ever one of the most fre¬
quented and fatal paths which led them astray.
In what I have now said, I have supposed my
readers to possess that general acquaintance with
Mr Hume’s Theory of Causation which all well-
educated persons may he presumed to have ac¬
quired. But the close connection of this part of
his work with some of the historical details which
are immediately to follow, makes it necessary
for me, before I proceed farther, to recapitulate
a little more particularly some of his most im¬
portant conclusions.
It was, as far as I know, first shown in a sa¬
tisfactory manner by Mr Hume, that “ every de¬
monstration which has been produced for the ne¬
cessity of a cause to every new existence, is fal¬
lacious and sophistical.”1 In illustration of this
assertion, he examines three different arguments
which have been alleged as proofs of the propo¬
sition in question ; the first by Mr Hobbes ; the
second by Dr Clarke; and the third by Mr
Locke. And I think it will now he readily ac¬
knowledged by every competent judge, that his
objections to all these pretended demonstrations
are conclusive and unanswerable.
When Mr Hume, however, attempts to show
that the proposition in question is not intuitively
certain, his argument appears to me to amount
to nothing more than a logical quibble. Of this
one would almost imagine that he was not in¬
sensible himself, from the short and slight man¬
ner in which he hurries over the discussion.
“ All certainty (he observes) arises from the
comparison of ideas, and from the discovery of
such relations as are unalterable, so long as the
ideas continue the same. These relations are
resemblance^ proportions in quantity and number,
degrees of any quality, and contrariety ; none of
which are implied in this proposition, whatever
has a beginning has also a cause of existence. That
proposition, therefore, is not intuitively certain.
At least, any one who would assert it to be in¬
tuitively certain, must deny these to be the only
infallible relations, and must find some other
relation of that kind to be implied in it, which
it will be then time enough to examine.”
Upon this passage, it is sufficient for me to
observe, that the whole force of the reasoning
hinges on two assumptions, which are not only
gratuitous, but false. 1st, That all certainty
arises from the comparison of ideas. 2dly, That
all the unalterable relations among our ideas are
comprehended in his own arbitrary enumeration;
Resemblance, proportions in quantity void number,
degrees of any quality, and contrariety. When
the correctness of these two premises shall be
fully established, it will be time enough (to bor¬
row Mr Hume’s own words) to examine the just¬
ness of his conclusion.
From this last reasoning, however, of Mr
Hume, it may be suspected, that he was aware
of the vulnerable point against which his adver¬
saries were most likely to direct their attacks.
From the weakness, too, of the entrenchments
which he has here thrown up for his own secu¬
rity, he seems to have been sensible, that it was
not capable of a long or vigorous resistance. In
the mean time, he betrays no want of confidence
in his original position; but repeating his as¬
sertion, that “ we derive the opinion of the ne¬
cessity of a cause to every new production,
neither from demonstration nor from intuition,”
he boldly concludes, that “ this opinion must
necessarily arise from observation and experi¬
ence.”—(Vol. I. p. 147.) Or, as he elsewhere
expresses himself, “ All our reasonings concern¬
ing causes and effects are derived from nothing
but custom \ and, consequently, belief is more
1 Treatise of Human Nature, Yol. I. p. 144 Although Mr Hume, however, succeeded better than any of his predeces-
sors, in calling the attention of philosophers to this discussion, his opinion on the subject does not possess the merit, in
point of originality, which was supposed to belong to it either by himself or by his antagonists. See the passages which I
have quoted in proof of this, in the first volume of the Philosophy of the Human Mind^ p. 542. et seq. fourth edit, and also m
the second volume of the same work, p. 556. et seq. second edit. Among these, I request the attention of my readers more
particularly to a passage from a book entitled, The Procedure, Extent, and Limits of the Human Understanding, published two
years before the Treatise of Human Nature, and commonly ascribed to Dr Browne, Bishop of Cork. The coincidence is
truly wonderful, as it can scarcely, by any possibility, be supposed that this book was ever heard of by Mr Hume.
212
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
properly an act of the sensitive than of the cogi¬
tative part of our natures.”—{Ibid. p. 321.)
The distinction here alluded to between the
sensitive and the cogitative parts of our nature (it
may he proper to remind my readers) makes a
great figure in the works of Cudworth and of
Kant. By the former it was avowedly borrowed
from the philosophy of Plato. To the latter, it
is not improbable, that it may have been sug¬
gested by this passage in Hume. Without dis¬
puting its justness or its importance, I may he
permitted to express my doubts of the propriety
of stating, so strongly as has frequently been
done, the one of these parts of our nature in
contrast with the other. Would it not be more
philosophical, as well as more pleasing, to con¬
template the beautiful harmony between them,
and the gradual steps by which the mind is train¬
ed by the intimations of the former, for the de¬
liberate conclusions of the latter? If, for example,
our conviction of the permanence of the laws
of nature be not founded on any process of
reasoning (a proposition which Mr Hume seems
to have established with demonstrative evidence),
but be either the result of an instinctive principle
of belief, or of the association of ideas, opera¬
ting at a period when the light of reason has not
yet dawned, what can be more delightful than
to find this suggestion of our sensitive frame,'
verified by every step which our reason afterwards
makes in the study of physical science ; and con¬
firmed with mathematical accuracy by the never-
failing accordance of the phenomena of the
heavens with the previous calculations of astro¬
nomers ! Does not this afford a satisfaction to
the mind, similar to what it experiences, when
we consider the adaptation of the instinct of suc¬
tion, and of the organs of respiration, to the
physical properties of the atmosphere ? So far
from encouraging scepticism, such a view of hu¬
man nature seems peculiarly calculated to silence
every doubt about the veracity of our faculties.*
It is not my business at present to inquire
into the soundness of Mr Hume’s doctrines on
this subject. The rashness of some of them has,
in my opinion, been sufficiently shown by more
than one of his antagonists. I wish only to re¬
mark the important step which he made, in ex¬
posing the futility of the reasonings by which
Hobbes, Clarke, and Locke, had attempted to
demonstrate the metaphysical axiom, that “every
thing which begins to exist must have a cause j”
and the essential service which he rendered to
true philosophy, by thus pointing out indirectly
1 Upon either of these suppositions, Mr Hume would, with equal propriety, have referred our anticipation of the future
event to the sensitive part of our nature; and, in point of fact, the one supposition would have answered his purpose as well
as the other. . .
2 It is but justice to Mr Hume to remark, that, in his later publications, he has himself suggested this very idea as the
best solution he could give of his own doubts. The following passage, which appears to me to be eminently philosophical
and beautiful, I beg leave to recommend to the particular attention of Kant’s disciples :—
“ Here, then, is a kind of pre-established harmony between the course of nature and the succession of our ideas ; and
though the powers and forces by which the former is governed be wholly unknown to us, yet our thoughts and conceptions
have still, we find, gone on in the same train with the other works of nature. Custom is that principle by which this cor¬
respondence has been effected ; so necessary to the subsistence of our species, and the regulation of our conduct in every
circumstance and occurrence of human life. Had not the presence of an object instantly excited the idea of those objects
commonly conjoined with it, all our knowledge must have been limited to the narrow sphere of our memory and senses; and
we should never have been able to adjust means to ends, or employ our natural powers, either to the producing of good, or
avoiding of evil. Those who delight in the discovery and contemplation of final causes have here ample subject to employ
their wonder and admiration.
“ I shall add, for a further confirmation of the foregoing theory, that, as this operation of the mind, by which we infer
like effects from like causes, and vice versa, is so essential to the subsistence of all human creatures, it is not probable that
it could be trusted to the fallacious deductions of our reason, which is slow in its operations, appears not in any degree
during the first years of infancy, and at best is, in every age and period of human life, extremely liable to error and mis¬
take. It is more conformable to the ordinary wisdom of nature to secure so necessary an act of the mind by some in¬
stinct or mechanical tendency which may be infallible in its operations, may discover itself at the first appearance of hie
and thought, and may be independent of all the laboured deductions of the understanding. As nature has taught us the
use of our limbs, without giving us the knowledge of the muscles and nerves by which they are actuated, so has she im¬
planted in us an instinct which carries forward the thoughts in a correspondent course to that which she has established
among external objects; though we are ignorant pf those powers and forces on which this regular course and succession of
objects totally depends.”—(See, in the last editions of Mr Hume’s Philosophical Essays, published during his own lifetime,
the two sections entitled Sceptical Doults concerning the Operations of the Understanding; and Sceptical Solution of these Doubts.
The title of the latter of these sections has, not altogether without reason, incurred the ridicule of Dr Beattie, who
translates it, Doubtful Solution of Doubtful Doubts. But the essay contains much sound and important matter, and throws
a strong light on some of the chief difficulties which Mr Hume himself had started. Sufficient justice has not been done
to it by his antagonists.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
213
to his successors the only solid ground on which
that principle is to be defended. It is to this
argument of Hume’s, according to Kant’s own
acknowledgment, that we owe the Critique of
Pure Reason; and to this we are also indebted
for the far more luminous refutations of scep¬
ticism by Mr Hume’s own countrymen.
In the course of Mr Hume’s very refined dis¬
cussions on this subject, he is led to apply them
to one of the most important principles of the
mind,—our belief of the continuance of the laws
of nature; or, in other words, our belief that
the future course of nature will resemble the
past. And here, too (as I already hinted), it is
very generally admitted, that he has succeeded
completely in overturning all the theories which
profess to account for this belief, by resolving it
into a process of reasoning.1 The only differ¬
ence which seems to remain among philosophers
is, whether it can be explained, as Mr Hume
imagined, by means of the association of ideas;
or, whether it must be considered as an original
and fundamental law of the human understand¬
ing ;—a question, undoubtedly abundantly curi¬
ous, as a problem connected with the Theory of the
Mind; but to which more practical importance
has sometimes been attached than I conceive
to be necessary.8
That Mr Hume himself conceived his refuta¬
tion of the theories which profess to assign a
reason for our faith in the permanence of the laws
of nature, to be closely connected with his scep¬
tical conclusions concerning causation, is quite
evident from the general strain of his argument;
and it is, therefore, not surprising that this re¬
futation should have been looked on with a sus¬
picious eye by his antagonists. Dr Reid was, I
believe, the first of these- who had the sagacity
to perceive, not only that it is strictly and in-
controvertibly logical, but that it may be safely
admitted, without any injury to the doctrines
which it was brought forward to subvert.
Another of Mr Hume’s attacks On these doc¬
trines was still bolder and more direct. In con¬
ducting it he took his vantage ground from his
own account of the origin of our ideas. In this
way he was led to expunge from his Philosophi¬
cal Vocabulary every word of which the mean¬
ing cannot be explained by a reference to the
impression from which the corresponding idea was
originally copied. Nor was he startled in the
application of this rule, by the consideration,
that it would force him to condemn, as insigni¬
ficant, many words which are to be found in all
languages, and some of which express what are
commonly regarded as the most important ob¬
jects of human knowledge. Of this number
are the words cause and effect; at least, in the
sense in which they are commonly understood
both by the vulgar and by philosophers. “ One
1 The incidental reference made, by way of illustration, in the following passage, to our Instinctive conviction of the per¬
manency of the laws of Nature, encourages me to hope, that, among candid and intelligent inquirers, it is now received as
an acknowledged fact in the Theory of the Human Mind.
“.T.he anxiety men have in all ages shown to obtain a fixed standard of value, and that remarkable agreement of nations,
dissimilar in all other customs, in the use of one medium, on account of its superior fitness for that purpose, is itself a con¬
vincing proof how essential it is to our social interests. The notion of its permanency, although it be conventional and ar¬
bitrary, and liable, in reality, to many causes of variation, yet had gained so firm a hold on the minds of men, as to re¬
semble, in its effects on their conduct, that instinctive conviction of the permanency of the laws of nature which is the foundation
of all our reasoning."—(A Letter to the Right Hon. R. Peel, M. P. for the University of Oxford, by one of his Constituents,
second edition, p. 23.)
2 The difference between the two opinions amounts to nothing more than this, whether our expectation of the conti¬
nuance of the laws of nature results from a principle coeval with the first exercise of the senses; or whether it arises gra¬
dually from the accommodation of the order of our thoughts to the established order of physical events. “ Nature (as Mr
Hume himself observes) may certainly produce whatever can arise from habit; nay, habit is nothing but one of the prin¬
ciples of nature, and derives all its force from that origin (Treatise of Human Nature, Yol. I. p. 313.) Whatever ideas,
therefore, and whatever principles we are unavoidably led to acquire by the circumstances in which we are placed, and by
the exercise of those faculties which are essential to our preservation, are to be considered as parts of human nature, no less
than those which are implanted in the mind at its first formation. Are not the acquired perceptions of sight and of hear¬
ing as much parts of human nature as the original perceptions of external objects which we obtain by the use of the hand ?
The passage quoted from Mr Hume, in Note 2. p. 212, if attentively considered, will be found, when combined ;with
these remarks, to throw a strong and pleasing light on his latest views with respect to this part of his philosophy.
In denying that our expectation of the continuance of the laws of nature is founded on reasoning, as well as in asserting
our ignorance of any necessary connections among physical events, Mr Hume had been completely anticipated by some of
ms predecessors—(See the references mentioned in the Note, p. 211.) I do not, however, think that, before his time, phi¬
losophers were at all aware of the alarming consequences which, on a superficial view, seem to follow from this part of his
system. . Indeed, these consequences would never have been apprehended, had it not been supposed to form an essential
hnk in his argument against the commonly received notion of Causation.
214
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
event (says lie) follows another; but we never
observe any tie between them. They seem con¬
joined^ but never connected. And as we can have
no idea of any thing which never appeared to
our outward sense or inward sentiment, the ne¬
cessary conclusion seems to be, that we have no
idea of connection or power at all; and that
these words are absolutely without any meaning,
when employed either in philosophical reasonings
or common life.”—(Hume s Essays, Vol. II.
p. 79. Ed. of Lond. 1784.)
When this doctrine was first proposed by Mr
Hume, he appears to have been very strongly
impressed with its repugnance to the common
apprehensions of mankind. “ I am sensible (he
observes) that of all the paradoxes which I have
had, or shall hereafter have occasion to advance
in the course of this treatise, the present one is
the most violent,”—(Freatise of Human Nature,
Vol. I. p. 291.) It was probably owing to this
impression that he did not fully unfold in that
work all the consequences which, in his subse¬
quent publications,' he deduced from the same
paradox; nor did he even apply it to invalidate
the argument which infers the existence of an
intelligent cause from the order of the universe.
There cannot, however, be a doubt that he was
aware, at this period of his life, of the conclu¬
sions to which it unavoidably leads, and which
are indeed too obvious to escape the notice of a
far less acute inquirer.
In a private letter of Mr Hume’s, to one of
his most intimate friends,1 some light is thrown
on the circumstances which first led his mind
into this train of sceptical speculation. As his
narrative has every appearance of the most per¬
fect truth and candour, and contains several
passages which I doubt not will be very gene¬
rally interesting to my readers, I shall give it a
place, together with some extracts from the cor¬
respondence to which it gave rise, in the Notes
at the end of this Dissertation. Every thing
connected with the origin and composition of a
work which has had so powerful an influence on
the direction which metaphysical pursuits have
since taken, both in Scotland2 and in Germany,
will be allowed to form an important article of
philosophical history; and this history I need
not offer any apology for choosing to communi¬
cate to the public rather in Mr Hume’s words
than in my own.5
From the reply to this letter by Mr Hume’s
very ingenious and accomplished correspondent,
we learn that he had drawn from Mr Hume’s
metaphysical discussions the only sound and
philosophical inference: that the lameness of
the proofs offered by Descartes and his succes¬
sors, of some fundamental truths universally
1 Sir Gilbert Elliot, Bart, grandfather of the present Earl of Minto. The originals of the letters to which I refer are in
Lord Minto’s possession. , . „ „ ,, „ , _ .
2 A foreign writer, of great name (M. Frederick Schlegel), seems to think that the influence of Mr Humes Treatise of
Human Nature on the Philosophy of England has been still more extensive than I had conceived it to be. His opinion on
this point I transcribe as a sort of literary curiosity :
“ Since the time of Hume, nothing more has been attempted in England, than to erect all sorts of bulwarks against tne
practical influence of his destructive scepticism; and to maintain, by various substitutes and aids, the pile of moral pnn-
ciple uncorrupted and entire. Not only with Adam Smith, lut with all their late philosophers, national welfare is the ruling ana
central principle of thoughta principle excellent and praiseworthy in its due situation, lut quite unfitted for being the centre and
oracle of all knowledge and science." From the connection in which this last sentence stands with the context, would not one
imagine that the writer conceived the Wealth of Nations to be a new moral or metaphysical system, devised by Mr bmitii, tor
the purpose of counteracting Mr Hume’s scepticism ? . _ .i,,.!!
I have read this translation of Mr Schlegel’s lectures with much curiosity and interest, and flatter mysell that we snau
soon have English versions of the works of Kant, and of other German authors, from the pens of their English disciples.
Little more, I am fully persuaded, is necessary, in this country, to bring down the philosophy of Germany to its proper
level.
In treating of literary and historical subjects, Mr Schlegel seems to be more in his element, than when he ventures to
pronounce on philosophical questions. But even in cases of the former description, some of his dashing judgments on Eng¬
lish writers can be accounted for only by haste, caprice, or prejudice. “ The English themselves (we are told) are no
pretty well convinced, that Robertson is a careless, superficial, and blundering historian: although they study his nor ,
and are right in doing so, as models of pure composition, extremely deserving of attention during the present declining s a
of English style  With all the abundance of his Italian elegance, what is the overloaded and affected Loscoe
when compared with Gibbon ? Coxe, although master of a good and classical style, resembles Robertson in no respec so
much as in the superficialness of his researches; and the statesman Fox has nothing in common with Hume but the bigo y
of his party zeal.” Such criticisms may perhaps be applauded by a German auditory, but in this country they can injur
the reputation of none but their author.
^ See Note CCC.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
215
acknowledged by mankind, proceeded, not from
any defect in the evidence of these truths, but,
on the contrary, from their being self-evident^
and consequently unsusceptible of demonstra¬
tion. We learn, farther, that the same conclu¬
sion had been adopted, at this early period, by
another of Mr Hume’s friends, Mr Henry
Home, who, under the name of Lord Karnes,
was afterwards so well known in the learned
world. Those who are acquainted with the
subsequent publications of this distinguished
and most respectable author, will immediately
recognise, in the account here given of the im¬
pression left on his mind by Mr Hume’s scepti¬
cism, the rudiments of a peculiar logic, which
runs more or less through all his later works ;
and which, it must be acknowledged, he has, in
various instances, carried to an unphilosophical
extreme.1
The light in which Mr Hume’s scepticism
appears from these extracts to have struck his
friends, Sir Gilbert Elliot and Lord Kames, was
very nearly the same with that in which it was
afterwards viewed by Reid, Oswald, and Beat-
tie, all of whom have manifestly aimed, with
greater or less precision, at the same logical
doctrine which I have just alluded to. This,
too, was the very ground on which Father Buf-
fier had (even before the publication of the
Treatise of Human Nature) made his stand
against similar theories, built by his predeces¬
sors on the Cartesian principles. The coinci¬
dence between his train of thinking, and that
into which our Scottish metaphysicians soon
after fell, is so very remarkable, that it has been
considered by many as amounting to a proof
that the plan of their works was, in some mea¬
sure, suggested by his; but it is infinitely more
probable, that the argument which runs, in
common, through the speculations of all of them,
was the natural result of the state of metaphy¬
sical science when they engaged in their philo¬
sophical inquiries.3
The answer which Mr Hume made to this
argument, when it was first proposed to him in
the easy intercourse of private correspondence,
seems to me an object of so much curiosity, as
to justify me for bringing it under the eye of
my readers in immediate connection with the
foregoing details. Opinions thus communicat¬
ed in the confidence of friendly discussion, pos¬
sess a value which seldom belongs to proposi¬
tions hazarded in those public controversies
where the love of victory is apt to mingle, more
or less, in the most candid minds, with the love
of truth.
“ Your notion of correcting subtlety by sen¬
timent is certainly very just with regard to mo¬
rals, which depend upon sentiment: And in
politics and natural philosophy, whatever con¬
clusion is contrary to certain matters of fact,
must certainly be wrong, and there must some
error lie somewhere in the argument, whether
we be able to show it or not. But, in metaphy¬
sics or theology, I cannot see how either of these
plain and obvious standards of truth can have
place. Nothing there can correct bad reason¬
ing but good reasoning; and sophistry must be
opposed by syllogism.5 About seventy or eighty
years ago,4 I observe a principle like that which
you advance prevailed very much in France,
amongst some philosophers and beaux esprits.
_1 I allude particularly to the unnecessary multiplication, in his philosophical arguments, of internal senses and of in-
stinctive principles.
2 Voltaire, in his catalogue of the illustrious writers who adorned the reign of Louis XIV. is one of the very few French
authors who have spoken of Buffier with due respect: “ II y a dans ses traites de metaphysique des morceaux que Locke
n’aurait pas desavoues, et c’est le seul jesuite qui ait mis une philosophie raisonnable dans ses ouvrages.”—Another French
philosopher, too, of a very different school, and certainly not disposed to overrate the talents of Buffier, has, in a work
published as lately as 1805' candidly acknowledged the lights which he might have derived from the labours of his prede¬
cessor, if he had been acquainted with them at an earlier period of his studies. Condillac, he also observes, might have
profited greatly by the same lights, if he had availed himself of their guidance, in his inquiries concerning the human un¬
derstanding. “ Du moins est il certain que pour ma part, je suis fort fache de ne connoitre que depuis tres peu de temps ces
opinions du Pere Buffier; si je les avais vues plutot enoncees quelque part, elles m’auraient dpargne beaucoup de peines
et d’hdsitations.”—“ Je regrette beaucoup que Condillac, dans ses profondes et sagaces meditations sur 1’intelligence hu-
maine, n’ait pas fait plus d’attention aux idees du Pere Buffier,” &c. &c—Eltmcns d'Ideologic, par M. Destutt-Tract,
Tom. III. pp. 136, 137* (See Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol. II. pp. 88, 89, 2d edit.)
, 3 May not sophistry be also opposed, by appealing to the fundamental laws of human belief; and, in some cases, by appeal-
ing to facts for which we have the evidence of our own consciousness ? The word sentiment does not express, with sufficient
precision, the test which Mr Hume’s correspondent had manifestly in view.
* This letter is dated 1751.
216
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
The occasion of it was this: The famous M.
Nicole of the Port Royal, in his Perpetuite de la
Foi, pushed the Protestants very hard upon
the impossibility of the people’s reaching a con¬
viction of their religion by the way of private
judgment, which required so many disquisi¬
tions, reasonings, researches, erudition, impar¬
tiality, and penetration, as not one of a hundred,
even among men of education, is capable of. M.
Claude and the Protestants answered him, not
by solving his difficulties (which seems impos¬
sible), but by retorting them (which is very
easy.) They showed, that to reach the way of
authority which the Catholics insist on, as long
a train of acute reasoning, and as great erudi¬
tion was requisite, as would be sufficient for a
Protestant. We must first prove all the truths
of natural religion, the foundation of morals,
the divine authority of the Scripture, the de¬
ference which it commands to the church, the
tradition of the church, &c. &c. The compari¬
son of these controversial writings begat an idea
in some, that it was neither by reasoning nor
authority we learn our religion, but by senti¬
ment ; and this was certainly a very convenient
way, and what a philosopher would be very
well pleased to comply with, if he could dis¬
tinguish sentiment from education. But, to
all appearance, the sentiment of Stockholm,
Geneva, Rome, ancient and modern Athens, and
Memphis, have not the same characters; and
no thinking man can implicitly assent to any of
them, but from the general principle, that, as
the truth on these subjects is beyond human
capacity, and that, as for one’s own ease, he
must adopt some tenets, there is more satisfac¬
tion and convenience in holding to the cate¬
chism we have been first taught. Now, this I
have nothing to say against. I would only
observe, that such a conduct is founded on the
most universal and determined scepticism. For
more curiosity and research give a direct oppo¬
site turn from the same principles.”
On this careless effusion of Mr Hume’s pen,
it would be unpardonable to offer any critical
strictures. It cannot, however, be considered
as improper to hint, that there is a wide and
essential difference between those articles of
faith which formed the subjects of dispute be¬
tween Nicole and Claude, and those laws of be¬
lief, of which it is the great object of the Trea¬
tise of Human Nature to undermine the autho¬
rity. The reply of Mr Hume, therefore, is
evasive, and although strongly marked with the
writer’s ingenuity, does not bear upon the point
in question.
As to the distinction alleged by Mr Hume
between the criteria of truth in natural philo¬
sophy and in metaphysics, I trust it will now be
pretty generally granted, that however well
founded it may be when confined to the meta¬
physics of the schoolmen, it will by no means
hold when extended to the inductive philosophy
of the human mind. In this last science, no
less than in natural philosophy, Mr Hume’s
logical maxim may be laid down as a funda¬
mental principle, that c< whatever conclusion is
contrary to matter of fact must be wrong, and
there must some error lie somewhere in the ar¬
gument, whether we be able to show it or not.”
It is a remarkable circumstance in the history
of Mr Hume’s literary life, and a proof of the
sincerity with which he was then engaged in the
search of truth, that, previous to the publication
of his Treatise of Human Nature, he discovered
a strong anxiety to submit it to the examination
of the celebrated Hr Butler, author of the Ana¬
logy °f Religion, Natm'al and Revealed, to the
Constitution and Course of Nature. For this pur¬
pose he applied to Mr Henry Home, between
whom and Dr Butler some friendly letters ap¬
pear to have passed before this period. “ Your
thoughts and mine (says Mr Hume to his cor¬
respondent) agree with respect to Dr Butler,
and I would be glad to be introduced to him.
I am at present castrating my work, that is, cut¬
ting off its nobler parts; that is, endeavouring
it shall give as little offence as possible, before
which I could not pretend to put it into the doc¬
tor’s hands.”1 In another letter, he acknow¬
ledges Mr Home’s kindness in recommending
him to Dr Butler’s notice. “ I shall not trouble
1 For the rest of the letter, see Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Lord Kames, by Lord Woodhouselee, Vol. 1. P-
(t seq.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
217
you with any formal compliments or thanks,
which would be but an ill return for the kind¬
ness you have done me in writing in my behalf,
to one you are so little acquainted with as Dr
Butler; and, I am afraid, stretching the truth
in favour of a friend. I have called on the doc¬
tor, with a design of delivering your letter, but
find he is at present in the country. I am a little
anxious to have the doctor’s opinion. My own
I dare not trust to; both because it concerns
myself, and because it is so variable, that I
know not how to fix it. Sometimes it elevates
me above the clouds ; at other times it depresses
me with doubts and fears; so that, whatever be
my success, I cannot be entirely disappointed.”
Whether Mr Hume ever enjoyed the satisfac¬
tion of a personal interview with Dr Butler, I
have not heard. From a letter of his to Mr
Home, dated London, 1739, we learn that if
any intercourse took place between them, it
must have been after the publication of the
Treatise of Human Nature. “ I have sent the
Bishop of Bristol a copy; but could not wait
upon him with your letter after he had arrived
at that dignity. At least, I thought it would be
to no purpose after I began the printing.”1 In
a subsequent letter to the same correspondent,
written in 1742, he expresses his satisfaction at
the favourable opinion which he understood Dr
Butler had formed of his volume of Essays, then
recently published, and augurs well from this
circumstance of the success of his book. <£ I am
told that Dr Butler has everywhere recommend¬
ed them, so that I hope they will have some
success.” 2
These particulars, trifling as they may ap¬
pear to some, seemed to me, for more reasons
than one, not unworthy of notice in this sketch.
Independently of the pleasing record they afford
of the mutual respect entertained by the eminent
men to whom they relate, for each other’s philo¬
sophical talents, they have a closer connection
with the history of metaphysical and moral in¬
quiry in this island, than might be suspected by
those who have not a very intimate acquaintance
with the writings of both. Dr Butler was, I
think, the first of Mr Locke’s successors who
clearly perceived the dangerous consequences
likely to be deduced from his account of the ori¬
gin of our ideas literally interpreted; and al¬
though he has touched on this subject but once,
and that with his usual brevity, he has yet said
enough to show, that his opinion with respect to
it was the same with that formerly contended
for by Cudworth, in opposition to Gassendi and
Hobbes, and which has since been revived in
different forms by the ablest of Mr Hume’s an¬
tagonists.* With these views, it may be rea¬
sonably supposed, that he was not displeased to
see the consequences of Locke’s doctrine so very
logically and forcibly pushed to their utmost
limits, as the most effectual means of rousing
the attention of the learned to a re-examination
of this fundamental principle. That he was
perfectly aware, before the publication of Mr
Hume’s work, of the encouragement given to
scepticism by the logical maxims then in vogue,
is evident from the concluding paragraph of his
short Essay on Personal Identity. Had it been
published a few years later, nobody would have
doubted, that it had been directly pointed at the
general strain and spirit of Mr Hume’s philo¬
sophy.
“ But though we are thus certain, that we
are the same agents or living beings notv, which
we were as far back as our remembrance reaches:
yet it is asked, Whether we may not possibly be
deceived in it ? And this question may be ask¬
ed at the end of any demonstration whatever,
because it is a question concerning the truth of
perception by memory. And he who can doubt,
whether perception by memory can in this case
be depended on, may doubt also whether per¬
ception by deduction and reasoning, which also
includes memory, or indeed whether intuitive
perception can. Here then we can go no far-
1 Memnint of the Life and Writings of Lord Karnes, Vol. I. p. 92.
. 2 Ibid. p. 404. The Essays here referred to were the first part of the Essays Moral, Political, and Literary, published
m 1742. The elegant author of these Memoirs has inadvertently confounded this volume with the second part of that
work, containing the Pcditieal Discourses (properly so called), which did not appear till ten years afterwards.
3 See the short Essay on Personal Identity, at the end of Butler’s Analogy ; and compare the second paragraph with the
remarks on this part of Locke’s Essay by Dr Price. (Review of the Principal Questions and Difficulties relating to Morals, pp.
49, 50. 3d ed. Lond. 1787.)
DISS. I. PART II. 2 E
218
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ther. For it is ridiculous to attempt to prove
the truth of those perceptions whose truth we
can no otherwise prove than by other percep¬
tions of exactly the same kind with them, and
which there is just the same ground to suspect;
or to attempt to prove the truth of our facul¬
ties, which can no otherwise he proved, than by
the use or means of those very suspected facul¬
ties themselves.”1.
It is, however, less as a speculative meta¬
physician, than as a philosophical inquirer into
the principles of morals, that I have been in¬
duced to associate the name of Butler with that
of Hume. And, on this account, it may be
thought that it would have been better to delay
what I have now said of him till I come to trace
the progress of Ethical Science during the eigh¬
teenth century. To myself it seemed more na¬
tural and interesting to connect this historical
or rather biographical digression, with the ear¬
liest notice I was to take of Mr Hume as an
author. The numerous and important hints on
metaphysical questions which are scattered over
Butler’s works, are sufficient of themselves to
account for the space I have allotted to him
among Locke’s successors ; if, indeed, any apo¬
logy for this be necessary, after what I have al¬
ready mentioned, of Mr Hume’s ambition to
submit to his judgment the first fruits of his
metaphysical studies.
The remarks hitherto made on the Treatise of
Human Nature are confined entirely to the first
volume. The speculations contained in the two
others, on Morals, on the Nature and Founda¬
tions of Government, and on some other topics
connected with political philosophy, will fall
under our review afterwards.
Dr Reid’s Inquiry into the Human Mind (pub¬
lished in 1764) was the first direct attack which
appeared in Scotland upon the sceptical conclu¬
sions of Mr Hume’s philosophy. For my own
opinion of this work I must refer to one of my
former publications.2 It is enough to remark
here, that its great object is to refute the Ideal
Theory which was then in complete possession
of the schools, and upon which Dr Reid con¬
ceived that the whole of Mr Hume’s philosophy,
as well as the whole of Berkeley’s reasonings
against the existence of matter, was founded.
According to this theory we are taught, that
<c nothing is perceived but what is in the mind
which perceives it; that we do not really per¬
ceive things that are external, but only cer¬
tain images and pictures of them imprinted
upon the mind, which are called impressions and
ideas.”—u This doctrine (says Dr Reid on ano¬
ther occasion) I once believed so firmly, as to
embrace the whole of Berkeley’s system along
with it; till finding other consequences to fol¬
low from it, which gave me more uneasiness than
the want of a material world, it came into my
mind, more than forty years ago, to put the
question, What evidence have I for this doc¬
trine, that all the objects of my knowledge are
ideas in my own mind ? From that time to
the present, I have been candidly and impartial¬
ly, as I think, seeking for the evidence of this
principle; but can find none, excepting the
authority of philosophers.”
On the refutation of the ideal theory, con¬
tained in this and his other works, Dr Reid
himself was disposed to rest his chief merit as
an author. “ The merit (says he in a letter
to Dr James Gregory) of what you are pleased
to call my Philosophy, lies, I think, chiefly in
having called in question the common theory of
ideas or images of things in the mind being the
only objects of thought; a theory founded on
natural prejudices, and so universally received as
to be interwoven with the structure of lan¬
guage. Yet were I to give you a detail of what
led me to call in question this theory, after I
had long held it as self-evident and unquestion¬
able, you would think, as I do, that there was
much of chance in the matter. The discovery
was the birth of time, not of genius; and Berke-
I must not, however, be understood as giving unqualified praise to this Essay. It is by no means free from the old
scholastic jargon, and contains some reasoning which, I may confidently assert, the author would not have employed, had it
been written fifty years later. Whoever takes the trouble to read the paragraph beginning with these words, “ Thirdly,
* J)erson 18 conscious,” &c. will immediately perceive the truth of this remark. I mention it as a proof of the change
to the better, which has taken place since Butler’s time, in the mode of thinking and writing on Metaphysical questions.
* bee Biographical Memoirs, Edin. 1811.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
219
ley and Hume did more to bring it to light than
the man that hit upon it. I think there is hard¬
ly any thing that can be called mine in the phi¬
losophy of the mind, which does not follow with
ease from the detection of this prejudice.
“ I must, therefore, beg of you, most earnest¬
ly, to make no contrast in my favour to the dis¬
paragement of my predecessors in the same pur¬
suits. I can truly say of them, and shall al¬
ways avow, what you are pleased to say of me,
that, but for the assistance I have received from
their writings, I never could have wrote or
thought what I have done.”1
When I reflect on the stress thus laid by Dr
Reid on this part of his writings, and his fre¬
quent recurrence to the same argument when¬
ever his subject affords him an opportunity of
forcing it upon the attention of his readers, I
cannot help expressing my wonder, that Kant
and other German philosophers, who appear to
have so carefully studied those passages in Reid,
which relate to Hume’s Theory of Causation,
should have overlooked entirely what he him¬
self considered as the most original and im¬
portant of all his discussions; more especially
as the conclusion to which it leads has been
long admitted, by the best judges in this island,
as one of the few propositions in metaphysical
science completely established beyond the reach
of controversy. Even those who affect to speak
the most lightly of Dr Reid’s contributions to
the philosophy of the human mind, have found
nothing to object to his reasonings against the
ideal theory, but that the absurdities involved
in it are too glaring to require a serious ex¬
amination. * Had these reasonings been consi¬
dered in the same light in Germany, it is quite
impossible that the analogical language of Leib¬
nitz, in which he speaks of the soul as a living
mirror of the universe^ could have been again re¬
vived ; a mode of speaking liable to every ob¬
jection which Reid has urged against the ideal
theory. Such, however, it would appear, is the
fact. The word Representation (Vorstdlung) is
1 An ingenious and profound writer, who, though intimately connected with Mr Hume in habits of friendship, was not
blind to the vulnerable parts of his Metaphysical System, has bestowed, in the latest of his publications, the following en¬
comium on Dr Reid’s Philosophical Works.
“ The author of an Inquiry into the Mind, and of subsequent Essays on the Intellectual and Active Powers of Man, _ nas great
merit in the effect to which he has pursued this history. But, considering the point at which the science stood when he
began his inquiries, he has, perhaps, no less merit in having removed the mist of hypothesis and metaphor, with which the
subject was enveloped; and, in having taught us to state the facts of which we are conscious^ not in figurative language,
but in the terms which are proper to the subject. In this it will be our advantage to follow him ; the more that, in former
theories, so much attention had been paid to the introduction of ideas or images as the elements of knowledge, that the be¬
lief of any external existence or prototype has been left to be inferred from the mere idea or image; and this inference,
indeed, is so little founded, that many "who have come to examine its evidence have thought themselves warranted to deny
it altogether. And hence the scepticism of ingenious men, who, not seeing a proper access to knowledge through the me¬
dium of ideas, without considering whether the road they had been directed to take was the true or a false one, denied the
possibility of arriving at the end.”—(Principles of Moral and Political Science, by Dr Adam Ferguson, VoL I. pp. 7o, 7b.)
The work from which this passage is taken contains various important observations connected with the Philosophy of the
Human Mind; but as the taste of the author led him much more strongly to moral and political speculations, than to re¬
searches concerning the intellectual powers of man, I have thought it right to reserve any remarks which I have to offer
on his philosophical merits for the last part of this Discourse. _ , ,, . „
2 I allude here more particularly to Dr Priestley, who, in a work published in 1774, alleged, that when philosophers
called ideas the images of external things, they are only to be understood as speaking figuratively; and that l)r item ms
gravely argued against this metaphorical language, as if it were meant to convey a theory of perception. Ihesameiemar '
has been repeated over and over since Priestley’s time, by various writers. I have nothing to add m reply to it to w at 1
long ago stated in my Philosophical Essays (see Note H. at the end of that work), but the following short quotation
from Mr Hume,
“ It seems evident, that, when men follow this blind and powerful instinct of nature, they always suppose tie very
images, presented by the senses, to be the external objects, and never entertain any suspicion, that the one are nothing but
representations of the other. * * * • But this universal and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed by the slightest phi¬
losophy, which teaches us, that nothing can ever be present to the mind but an image or perception, and that t le senses are
only the inlets through which these images are conveyed, without being able to produce any immediate intercourse between
the mind and the object. The table which we see seems to diminish as we remove farther from it; but the real table,
which exists independent of us, suffers no alteration. It was, therefore, nothing but its image which was present to the
mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason.”—(Essay on the Academical Philosophy.) , . , . ,
Is not this analogical theory of perception the principle on which the whole of Berkeley’s reasonings against the existence
of the material world, and of Hume’s scepticism on the same subject, are founded ? .. T c, , , r
The same analogy still continues to be sanctioned by some English philosophers of no small note. EpnS a er ^ Pu . “
cation of Dr Reid’s Inquiry, Mr Horne Tooke quoted with approbation the following words of J. C. Scahger : Sicut m
speculo eaquse videntur non sunt, sed eorum species ; ita quae intelligimus, ea sunt re ipsa extra nos, eorum que spccu s\
nobis. EsT EN1M QUASI RERUM SPECULUM INTELLECTUS NOSTERJ CUI, NISI PER SENSUM REPRESENTEN1 UR ;
nihil scix ipse.”—(J. C. Scaliger, de Causis, L. I* cap. Ixvi.) Diversions of Parley, Vol. I. p. 35, 2d. Edi ion.
220
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
now the German substitute for Idea ; nay, one
of the most able works which Germany has pro¬
duced since the commencement of its new phi¬
losophical era, is entitled Nova Theoria Facid-
tatis Representativce Humance. In the same work,
the author has prefixed, as a motto to the second
hook, in which he treats of “the Representative
Faculty in general,” the following sentence from
Locke, which he seems to have thought himself
entitled to assume as a first principle : “ Since
the mind, in all its thoughts and reasonings,
hath no other immediate object but its own ideas
(representationsJ, which it alone does or can
contemplate, it is evident that our knowledge is
only conversant about them.”—(Locke’s Essay,
B. IV. ch. 1.) In a country where this meta¬
physical jargon still passes current among wri¬
ters of eminence, it is vain to expect that any
solid progress can he made in the inductive phi¬
losophy of the human mind. A similar remark
may he extended to another country, where
the title of Ideologie (a word which takes for
granted the truth of the hypothesis which it
was Reid’s great aim to explode) has been lately
given to the very science in which the theory
of Ideas has been so clearly shown to have been,
in all ages, the most fruitful source of error and
absurdity.1
Of the other works by Scottish metaphysi¬
cians, which appeared soon after the Inquiry into
the Human Mind, I have not left myself room
to speak. I know of none of them from which
something important may not he learned; while
several of them (particularly those of Dr Camp¬
bell) have struck out many new and interesting
views. To one encomium all of them are well
entitled, that of aiming steadily at the advance¬
ment of useful knowledge and of human happi¬
ness. But the principles on which they have
proceeded have so close an affinity to those of
Dr Reid, that I could not, without repeating
what I have already said, enter into any ex¬
planation concerning their characteristical doc¬
trines.
On comparing the opposition which Mr
Hume’s scepticism encountered from his own
countrymen, with the account formerly given
of the attempts of some German philosophers to
refute his Theory of Causation, it is impossible
not to he struck with the coincidence between
the leading views of his most eminent antago¬
nists. This coincidence one would have been
disposed to consider as purely accidental, if
Kant, by his petulant sneers at Reid, Beattie,
and Oswald, had not expressly acknowledged,
that he was not unacquainted with their writ¬
ings. As for the great discovery, which he
seems to claim as his own,—that the ideas of
Cause and Effect, as well as many others, are
derived from the pure understanding without any
aid from experience, it is nothing more than a
repetition, in very nearly the same terms, of
what was advanced a century before by Cud-
worth, in reply to Hobbes and Gassendi; and
borrowed avowedly by Cudworth from the rea¬
sonings of Socrates, as reported by Plato, in
answer to the scepticism of Protagoras. This
recurrence, under different forms, of the same
metaphysical controversies, which so often sur¬
prises and mortifies us in the history of litera¬
ture, is an evil which will probably always con¬
tinue, more or less, even in the most prosperous
state of philosophy. But it affords no objection
to the utility of metaphysical pursuits. While
the sceptics keep the field, it must not be aban¬
doned by the friends of sounder principles; nor
ought they to be discouraged from their un¬
grateful task, by the reflection, that they have
probably been anticipated, in everything they
have to say, by more than one of their predeces¬
sors. If any thing is likely to check this perio¬
dical return of a mischief so unpropitious to the
progress of useful knowledge, it seems to be
the general diffusion of that historical informa¬
tion concerning the literature and science of
former times, of which it is the aim of these
Preliminary Dissertations to present an outline.
Should it fail in preventing the occasional re¬
in censuring these metaphorical terms, I am far from supposing that the learned writers who have employed them
have been all misled by the theoretical opinions involved in their language. Iteinhold has been more particularly careful
in guarding against such a misapprehension. But it cannot, I think, be doubted that the prevalence of such a phraseology
must have a tendency to divert the attention from a just view of the mental phenomena, and to infuse into the mind of
the young inquirer very false conceptions of the manner in which these phenomena ought to be studied.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
221
vival of obsolete paradoxes, it will, at least, di¬
minish the wonder and admiration with which
they are apt to be regarded by the multitude.
And here I cannot refrain from remarking
the injustice with which the advocates for truth
are apt to be treated; and by none more re¬
markably than by that class of writers who pro¬
fess the greatest zeal for its triumph. The im¬
portance of their labours is discredited by those
who are the loudest in their declamations and
invectives against the licentious philosophy of
the present age; insomuch that a careless ob¬
server would be inclined to imagine (if I may
borrow Mr Hume’s words on another occasion),
that the battle was fought “ not by the men at
arms, who manage the pike and the sword; but
by the trumpeters, drummers, and musicians,
of the army.”
These observations may serve, at the same
time, to account for the slow and (according to
some persons) imperceptible advances of the
philosophy of the human mind, since the publi¬
cation of Locke’s Essay. With those who still
attach themselves to that author, as an infallible
guide in metaphysics, it is in vain to argue;
but I would willingly appeal to any of Locke’s
rational and discriminating admirers, whether
much has not been done by his successors, and,
among others, by members of our northern uni¬
versities, towards the illustration and correction
of such of his principles as have furnished, both
to English and French sceptics, the foundation
of their theories.1 If this be granted, the way
has, at least, been cleared and prepared for the
labours of our posterity; and neither the cavils
of the sceptic, nor the refutation of them by the
sounder logician, can be pronounced to be use¬
less to mankind. Nothing can be juster or more
liberal than the following reflection of Reid:
“ I conceive the sceptical writers to be a set of
men, whose business it is to pick holes in the
fabric of knowledge wherever it is weak and
faulty ; and when those places are properly re¬
paired, the whole building becomes more firm
and solid than it was formerly.”—(Inquiry into
the Human Mind. Dedication.)
There is, indeed, one point of view, in which
it must be owned that Mr Hume’s Treatise has
had an unfavourable effect (and more especially
in Scotland) on the progress of Metaphysical
Science. Had it not been for the zeal of some
of his countrymen to oppose the sceptical con¬
clusions, which they conceived it to be his aim
to establish, much of that ingenuity which has
been wasted in the refutation of his sophistry
(or, to speak more correctly, in combating the
mistaken principles on which he proceeded)
would, in all probability, have been directed to
speculations more immediately applicable to the
business of life, or more agreeable to the taste
of the present age. What might not have been
expected from Mr Hume himself, had his power¬
ful and accomplished mind been more frequent¬
ly turned to the study of some parts of our na¬
ture (of those, for example, which are connected
with the principles of criticism), in examining
which, the sceptical bias of his disposition would
have had fewer opportunities of leading him
astray ! In some fragments of this sort, which
enliven and adorn his collection of Essays, one
is at a loss whether more to admire the subtlety
of his ‘genius, or the solidity and good sense of
his critical judgments.
Nor have these elegant applications of meta¬
physical pursuits been altogether overlooked by
Mr Hume’s antagonists. The active and ad¬
venturous spirit of Lord Kames, here, as in
many other instances, led the way to his coun¬
trymen ; and, due allowances being made for
the novelty and magnitude of his undertaking,
with a success far greater than could have been
reasonably anticipated. The Elements of Criti¬
cism, considered as the first systematical attempt
to investigate the metaphysical principles of the
1 According to Dr Priestley, the labours of these commentators on Locke have done more harm than good. “ I think
Mr Locke has been hasty in concluding that there is some other source of our ideas besides the external senses ; but the rest
of his system appears to me and others to be the corner stone of all just and rational knowledge of ourselves.’’
“ This solid foundation, howrever, has lately been attempted to be overturned by a set of pretended philosophers, or
whom the most conspicuous and assuming is Dr Reid, Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Glasgow. —
(Exam, of Reid, Beattie, and Oswald, p. 5.)_As to Mr Hume, Dr Priestley says, “ In my opinion, he has been very ally
answered, again and again, upon more solid principles than those of this new common sense ; and I leg leave to refer to the
two first volumes of my Institutes of Natural and Revealed Religion. ’'—(Exam ination of Reid, Qc. Preface, p. xxvii.
222
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
fine arts, possesses, in spite of its numerous de¬
fects both in point of taste and of philosophy,
infinite merits, and will ever he regarded as a
literary wonder by those who know how small
a portion of his time it was possible for the au¬
thor to allot to the composition of it, amidst the
imperious and multifarious duties of a most ac¬
tive and useful life. Campbell and Gerard, with
a sounder philosophy, and Beattie, with a much
more lively relish for the Sublime and the Beau¬
tiful, followed afterwards in the same path; and
have all contributed to create and to diffuse over
this island a taste for a higher and more en¬
lightened species of criticism than was known
to our forefathers. Among the many advan¬
tageous results with which this study has been
already attended, the most important, undoubt¬
edly, is the new and pleasing avenue which it
has opened to an analysis of the laws which re¬
gulate the intellectual phenomena; and the in¬
terest which it has thus lent, in the estimation
of men of the world, to inquiries which, not
many years before, were seldom heard of, but
within the walls of an university.
Dr Reid’s two volumes of Essays on the Intel¬
lectual and on the Active Powers of Man (the for¬
mer of which appeared in 1785, and the latter
in 1788) are the latest philosophical publications
from Scotland of which I shall at present take
notice. They are less highly finished, both in
matter and in form, than his Inquiry into the
Human Mind. They contain also some repeti¬
tions, to which, I am afraid, I must add a few
trifling inconsistencies of expression, for which
the advanced age of the author, who was then
approaching to fourscore, claims every indul¬
gence from a candid reader. Perhaps, too, it
may be questioned, whether, in one or two in¬
stances, his zeal for an important conclusion has
not led him to avail himself of some dubious
reasonings, which might have been omitted with¬
out any prejudice to his general argument.
“ The value of these volumes, however (as I
have elsewhere remarked), is inestimable to fu¬
ture adventurers in the same arduous inquiries,
not only in consequence of the aids they furnish
as a rough draught of the field to be examined,
but by the example they exhibit of a method of
investigation on such subjects, hitherto very im¬
perfectly understood, even by those philosophers
who call themselves the disciples of Locke. It
is by the logical rigour of this method, so syste¬
matically pursued in all his researches, still
more than by the importance of his particular
conclusions, that he stands so conspicuously dis¬
tinguished among those who have hitherto pro¬
secuted analytically the study of man.” 1
His acquaintance with the metaphysical doc¬
trines of his predecessors does not appear to have
been very extensive; with those of his own con¬
temporaries it was remarkably deficient. I do
not recollect that he has anywhere mentioned
the names either of Condillac or of D’Alembert.
It is impossible not to regret this, not only as it
has deprived us of his critical judgments on some
celebrated theories, but as it has prevented him
from enlivening his works with that variety of
historical discussion so peculiarly agreeable in
these abstract researches.
On the other hand, Dr Reid’s limited range
of metaphysical reading, by forcing him to draw
the materials of his philosopliical speculations
almost entirely from his own reflections, has
given to his style, both of thinking and of writ¬
ing, a characteristical unity and simplicity sel¬
dom to be met with in so voluminous an author.
He sometimes, indeed, repeats, with an air of
originality, what had been previously said by
his predecessors; but on these, as on all other
occasions, he has at least the merit of thinking
for himself, and of sanctioning, by the weight
of his unbiassed judgment, the conclusions
which he adopts. It is this uniformity of thought
and design, which, according to Dr Butler, is
the best test of an author’s sincerity; and I am
apt to regard it also, in these abstruse disquisi¬
tions, as one of the surest marks of liberal and un¬
fettered inquiry.
In comparing Dr Reid’s publications at differ¬
ent periods of his life, it is interesting to observe
his growing partiality for the aphoristical style.
Some of his Essays on the Intellectual and Active
1 Biographical Account of Reid.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
223
Powers of Man are little more than a series of
detached paragraphs, consisting of leading
thoughts, of which the reader is left to trace
the connection hy his own sagacity. To this
aphoristical style it is not improbable that he
was partly led by the indolence incident to ad¬
vanced years, as it relieved him from what
Boileau justly considered as the most difficult
task of an author, the skilful management of
transitions.1 In consequence of this want of
continuity in his compositions, a good deal of
popular effect is unavoidably lost; but, on the
other hand, to the few who have a taste for such
inquiries, and who value hooks chiefly as they
furnish exercise to their own thoughts (a class
of readers who are alone competent to pronounce
a judgment on metaphysical questions), there is
a peculiar charm in a mode of writing, so ad¬
mirably calculated to give relief to the author’s
ideas, and to awaken, at every sentence, the re¬
flections of his readers.
When I review what I have now written on the
history of Metaphysics in Scotland, since the
publication of Mr Hume’s Treatise^ and at the
same time recollect the laurels which, during the
same period, have been won by Scottish authors,
in every other department of literature and of
science, I must acknowledge that, instead of
being mortified at the slender amount of their
contributions to the philosophy of the human
mind, I am more disposed to wonder at their
successful perseverance in cultivating a field of
study, where the approbation of a few enlight¬
ened and candid judges is the only reward to
which their ambition could aspire. Small as
their progress may hitherto have been, it will at
least not suffer hy a comparison with what has
been accomplished hy their contemporaries in
any other part of Europe.
It may not he useless to add in this place, that,
if little has as yet been done, the more ample is
the field left for the industry of our successors.
The compilation of a Manual of Rational Logic,
adapted to the present state of science and of
society in Europe, is a desideratum which, it is
to be hoped, will at no distant period be sup¬
plied. It is a work, certainly, of which the exe¬
cution has been greatly facilitated by the philo¬
sophical labours of the last century. The varie¬
ties of intellectual character among men present
another very interesting object of study, which,
considering its practical utility, has not yet ex¬
cited, so much as might have been expected,
the curiosity of our countrymen. Much, too, is
still wanting to complete the theory of evidence.
Campbell has touched upon it with his usual
acuteness, but he has attempted nothing more
than an illustration of a very few general prin¬
ciples. Nor has he turned his attention to the
various illusions of the imagination, and of the
passions, hy which the judgment is liable to be
warped in the estimates it forms of moral evi¬
dence in the common affairs of life. This is a
most important inquiry, considering how often
the lives and fortunes of men are subjected to
the decisions of illiterate persons concerning cir¬
cumstantial pi’oofs; and how much the success
or failure of every individual in the conduct of
his private concerns turns on the sagacity or
rashness with which he anticipates future con¬
tingencies. Since the time when Campbell wrote,
an attempt has been made by Condorcet2 and
some other French writers, to apply a mathema¬
tical calculus to moral and political truths; but
though much metaphysical ingenuity, as well as
mathematical skill, have been displayed in carry¬
ing it into execution, it has not yet led to any
useful practical results. Perhaps it may even
be questioned, whether, in investigating truths
of this sort, the intellectual powers can derive
much aid from the employment of such an organ.
To define accurately and distinctly the limits of
its legitimate province, still remains a desidera¬
tum in this abstruse part of logic.
Nearly connected with this subject are the
metaphysical principles assumed in the mathe¬
matical Calculation of Probabilities; in deliver¬
ing which principles, some foreign mathemati¬
cians, with the illustrious La Place at their
head, have blended, with many unquestionable
1 Boileau is said, by the younger Itacine, to have made this remark in speaking of La Bruyere: “ II disoit que La
Bruyere s’etoit e'pargnd le plus difficile d'un ouvrage en s’epargnant les transitions.”—Mtmoxre sur la Vie de Jean Racine.)
2 Essai sur VApplication de VAnalyse d la Probability des Decisions rendues d lapluralite des Voix.
224
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
and highly interesting conclusions, various moral
paralogisms of the most pernicious tendency.
A critical examination of these paralogisms,
which are apt to escape the attention of the
reader amid the variety of original and luminous
discussions with which they are surrounded,
would, in my humble apprehension, be one of
the most essential services which could at pre¬
sent be rendered to true philosophy. In the
mind of La Place, their origin may be fairly
traced to an ambition, not altogether unnatural
in so transcendant a genius, to extend the empire
of his favourite science over the moral as well
as the material world.1 I have mentioned but a
few out of the innumerable topics which crowd
upon me as fit objects of inquiry for the rising
generation.8 Nor have I been guided in my
selection of these by any other consideration,
than their peculiar adaptation to the actual cir¬
cumstances of the philosophical world.
Should such men as Hume, Smith, and Reid
again arise, their curiosity would, in all proba¬
bility, be turned to some applications of meta¬
physical principles of a more popular and prac¬
tical nature than those which chiefly engaged
their curiosity. At the same time, let us not
forget what a step they made beyond the scho¬
lastic philosophy of the preceding age; and
how necessary this step was as a preliminary
to other researches bearing more directly and
palpably on human affairs.
The most popular objection hitherto made to
our Scottish metaphysicians is, that, in treating
of human nature, they have overlooked altoge¬
ther the corporeal part of our frame. From the
contempt which they have uniformly expressed
for all physiological theories concerning the in¬
tellectual phenomena, it has been concluded,
that they were disposed to consider the human
mind as altogether independent of the influence
of physical causes. Mr Belsham has carried
this charge so far, as to sneer at Dr Reid’s in-
ed, i( in opposition to his systematical principles,
that a certain constitution or state of the brain is
necessary to memory.” In reply to this charge,
it may be confidently asserted, that no set of
philosophers, since the time of Lord Bacon, have
entertained juster views on this subject than
the school to which Dr Reid belonged. In proof
of this, I need only appeal to the Lectures on the
Duties and Qiialijications of a Physician, by the late
learned and ingenious Dr John Gregory. Among
the different articles connected with the natural
history of the human species, which he has there
recommended to the examination of the medical
student, he lays particular stress on “ the laws
of union between the mind and body, and the
mutual influence they have upon one another.”
“ This (he observes) is one of the most impor¬
tant inquiries that ever engaged the attention
of mankind, and almost equally necessary in
the sciences of morals and of medicine.” It
must be remarked, however, that it is only the
laws which regulate the union between mind
and body (the same class of facts which Bacon
called the doctrina de foedere)f which are here
pointed out as proper objects of philosophical
curiosity; for as to any hypothesis concerning
the manner in which the union is carried on,
this most sagacious writer was well aware, that
they are not more unfavourable to the improve¬
ment of logic and of ethics, than to a skilful
and judicious exercise of the healing art.
I may perhaps form too high an estimate of
the progress of knowledge during the last fifty
years; but I think I can perceive, within the
period of my own recollection, not only a
change to the better in the Philosophy of the
Human Mind, but in the speculations of me¬
dical inquirers. Physiological theories concern¬
ing the functions of the nerves in producing
the intellectual phenomena have pretty gene¬
rally fallen into contempt: and, on the other
hand, a large accession has been made to our
consistency for having somewhere acknowledg- stock of well authenticated facts, both with re-
1 The paralogisms to which I allude did not fall within the scope of the admirable criticism on this work in the Eim-
burgh Review.
- Among these, the most prominent is the Natural or Theoretical History of Language (including under this title wnt-
as well as language), a siilyect wliich will lyr'obahly cbhtlriiie to furnish new problems to human ingenuity, hi the
most improved state of human knowledge. It is not surprising that an art which lays the foundation of all the others, and
which Is io irithhately cbhhected with the exercise of reakoh itself, should leave behind it such faint and obscure traces oL
its origin and infancy. yinw iihijIs lYX **
DISSERTATION FIRST.
225
spect to the influence of body on mind, and of
mind upon body. As examples of this, it is
sufficient to mention the experimental inquiries
instituted, in consequence of the pretended cures
effected by means of Animal Magnetism and of
Tractors; to which may be added, the philo¬
sophical spirit evinced in some late publications
on Insanity.
Another objection, not so entirely ground¬
less, which has been made to the same school,
is, that their mode of philosophising has led to
an unnecessary multiplication of our internal
senses and instinctive determinations. For this
error, I have elsewhere attempted to account
and to apologise.1 On the present occasion I
shall only remark, that it is at least a safer er¬
ror than the opposite extreme, so fashionable of
late among our southern neighbours, of endea¬
vouring to explain away, without any excep¬
tion, all our instinctive principles, both specula¬
tive and practical. A literal interpretation of
Locke’s comparison of the infant mind to a
sheet of white paper (a comparison which, if I
am rightly informed, has not yet wholly lost its
credit in all our universities), naturally predis¬
posed his followers to embrace this theory, and
enabled them to shelter it from a free examina¬
tion, under the sanction of his supposed autho¬
rity. Dr Paley himself, in his earliest philo¬
sophical publication, yielded so far to the preju¬
dices in which he had been educated, as to dis¬
pute the existence of the moral faculty;* al¬
though, in his more advanced years, he amply
atoned for this error of his youth, by the inge¬
nuity and acuteness with which he combated
the reasonings employed by some of his con¬
temporaries, to invalidate the proofs afforded
by the phenomena of instinct, of the existence of
a designing and provident cause. In this part
of his work, he has plainly in his eye the Zjoo-
nomia of Dr Darwin,8 where the same prin¬
ciples, of which Paley and others had availed
themselves to disprove the existence of instinct
and instinctive propensities in man, are eagerly
laid hold of to disprove the existence of instinct
in the brutes. Without such an extension of
the argument, it was clearly perceived by Dar¬
win, that sufficient evidences of the existence of
a Designing Cause would be afforded by the
phenomena of the lower animals; and, accord-
ingly> lie has employed much ingenuity to show,
that all these phenomena may be accounted for
by experience, or by the influence of pleasurable
or painful sensations, operating at the moment
on the animal frame.
In opposition to this theory, it is maintained
by Paley, that it is by instinct, that is, accord¬
ing to his own definition, “ by a propensity
1 Biographical Memoirs, p. 472. t
* After relating, in the words of Valerius Maximus, the noted story of Caius Toranius, who betrayed his affectionate
and excellent father to the triumvirate, Dr Paley thus proceeds: 
“ Now, the question is, whether, if this story were related to the wild boy caught some years ago in the woods of Hano¬
ver, or to a savage without experience and without instruction, cut off in his infancy from all intercourse with his species,
and consequently under no possible influence of example, authority, education, sympathy, or habit; whether, I say, such a
one would feel, upon the relation, any degree of that sentiment of disapprobation of Toranius's conduct which we feel or not ?
“ They who maintain the existence of a moral sense, of innate maxims, of a natural conscience—that the love of virtue
and hatred of vice are instinctive, or the perception of right or wrong intuitive (all of which are only different ways of
expressing the same opinion), affirm that he would.
“ They who deny the existence of a moral sense, &c. affirm that he would not.
And upon this issue is joined.”—(Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, B. I. chap. 5.)
To those who are at all acquainted with the history of this dispute, it must appear evident that the question is here com¬
pletely mis-stated; and that, in the whole of Dr Paley’s subsequent argument on the subject, he combats a phantom of his
own imagination. The opinion which he ascribes to his antagonists has been loudly and repeatedly disavowed by all the
niost eminent moralists who have disputed Locke’s reasonings against innate practical principles; and is, indeed, so very ob-
V1Tva • a^sur^’ it never could have been for a moment entertained by any person in his senses.
Did it ever enter into the mind of the wildest theorist to imagine that the sense of seeing would enable a man brought
up5 from the moment of his birth, in utter darkness, to form a conception of light and colours ? But would it not be
hum ' f^110 conc^U(^e fr°m the extravagance of such a supposition, that the sense of seeing is not an original part of the
The above quotation from Paley forces me to remark, farther, that, in combating the supposition of a moral sense, he has
confounded together, as only different ways of expressing the same opinion, a variety of systems, which are regarded by all our
best philosophers, not only as essentially distinct, but as in some measure standing in opposition to each other. The sys¬
tem of Hutcheson, for example, is identified with that of Cudworth. But although, in this instance, the author’s logical
^nmmation does not appear to much advantage, the sweeping censure thus bestowed on so many of our most celebrated
ethical theories, has the merit of throwing a very strong light on that particular view of the subject which it is the aim of
!« reasonings to^ establish, in contradiction to them all.
»ee the section on Instinct. Sect. XVI. of that work.
DISS. i. part II. 2 F
226
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
prior to experience, and independent of instruc¬
tion,” “ that the sexes of animals seek each
other; that animals cherish their offspring;
that the young quadruped is directed to the teat
of its dam; that birds build their nest, and
brood with so much patience upon their eggs;
that insects, which do not sit upon their eggs,
deposit them in those particular situations in
which the young, when hatched, find their ap¬
propriate food; that it is instinct which carries
the salmon, and some other fish, out of the sea
into rivers, for the purpose of shedding their
spawn in fresh water.”1
In Dr Paley’s very able and convincing rea¬
sonings on these various points, he has undoubt¬
edly approached nearer to the spirit of what has
been ironically called Scottish philosophy,2 than
any of Mr Locke’s English disciples, since the
time of Dr Butler; a circumstance which, when
compared with the metaphysical creed of his ear¬
lier years, reflects the greatest honour on the can¬
dour and fairness of his mind, and encourages the
hope, that this philosophy, where it is equally
sound, will gradually and silently work its way
among sincere inquirers after truth, in spite of
the strong prejudices which many of our south¬
ern neighbours still appear to entertain against
it. The extravagancies of Darwin, it is pro¬
bable, first opened Dr Paley’s eyes to the dan¬
gerous tendency of Locke’s argument against
innate principles, when inculcated without due
limitations.3
With this very faint outline of the specula¬
tions of Locke’s chief successors in Scotland,
prior to the close of Dr Reid s literary labours,
I shall for the present finish my review of the
metaphysical pursuits of the eighteenth century.
The long period which has since elapsed has been
too much crowded with great political events to
favour the growth of abstract science in any of
its branches ; and of the little which appears to
have been done, during this interval, in other
parts of Europe, towards the advancement of
true philosophy, the interrupted communication
between this island and the Continent left us for
bun luolo yoffinoys I
many years in a state of almost total ignorance.
This chasm in our information concerning fo¬
reign literature, it may not be a difficult task
for younger men to supply. At my time of life
it would be folly to attempt it; nor, perhaps, is
any author who has himself been so frequently
before the public, the fittest person to form an
impartial estimate of the merits of his living
contemporaries. Now, however, when peace is
at length restored to the world, it may reason¬
ably be hoped that the human mind will again
resume her former career with renovated ener¬
gy ; and that the nineteenth century will not
itod; ....
i . did <nfJ ‘io worm n no ad Illvr Ji vlafli Bniot adf dbixfin vd adooJ sr: 1 j ,
requesting the reader to Compaq few pages of Dr Paley’s Section
/ am not ignorant of the theory which resolves instinct into sensation,'' &c. with some remarks • • thus « /» a
sertation, in an Account of til Life and Writings of Dr Reid ? See ^^^^^^areSfthe same time
very original work, an which I have already hazarded some criticisms &c. As both publications aPPeared ^ d slight
(in the year 1802), the coincidence, in point of thought, must have been wholly accidental, and as such attorus no «
presumption in favour of its soundness. ■■ .  i,nw W himself much too
» When Dr Paley published his Principles of Moral and Political PMosophy, he see1^, f ^f^ ^ ^prove the
slavishly to the ooinions of Bishop Law, to whom that work is inscribed. Hence, probably, his anxiety t F .
existence of the loral faculty. Of the length to which Law was disposed to carry Locke .Jims,
oiples, he has enabled us to judge by his own explicit declaration : “ I take implanted for!
and affections, &c. to be a remnant of the old philosophy, which used to call every thing tWc thatitcould ^
and therefore heartily wish, that they were in .one.sense all fradicated, which was undoubtedly the aim ot t g
last mentioned (Mr Locke), as it was a natural consequence of his first book "-(Law’s Translation of Archbishop 8
^ j^S'htweverf J Dr“S, it must be observed, that he appears to have beer, fully aware
ate principles was in a great measure verbal. “ It will really,’’ says he, “ come to the same thlPg in
,1 attributes of God and the nature of virtue and vice, whether the Deity has implanted the8.eM ^X^mstances, that
• has framed and disposed us in such a manner, has given us such powers, and placed us i c , nt.tack-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
227.
yield to the eighteenth in furnishing materials
to those who may hereafter delight to trace the
progressive improvement of their species. In
the meantime, instead of indulging myself in
looking forward to the future, I shall conclude
this section with a few general reflections sug¬
gested by the foregoing retrospect.
Among these reflections, what chiefly strikes
my own mind is the extraordinary change which
has gradually and insensibly taken place since
the publication of Locke’s Essay, in the mean¬
ing of the word Metaphysics ; a word former¬
ly appropriated to the ontology and pneuma-
tology of the schools, but now understood as
equally applicable to all those inquiries, which
have for their object to trace the various bran¬
ches of human knowledge to their first principles
in the constitution of our nature.1 This change
can be accounted for only by a change in the
philosophical pursuits of Locke’s successors; a
change from the idle abstractions and subtleties
of the dark ages, to studies subservient to the
culture of the understanding; to the successful
exercise of its faculties and powers; and to a
knowledge of the great ends and purposes of our
being. It may be regarded, therefore, as a pal¬
pable and incontrovertible proof of a corres¬
ponding progress of reason in this part of the
world.
On comparing together the multifarious studies
now classed together under the title of Meta¬
physics, it will be found diflicult to trace any
common circumstance but this, that they all re¬
quire the same sort of mental exertion for their
prosecution ; the exercise, I mean, of that power
(called by Locke Reflection) by which the mind
turns its attention inwards upon its own opera¬
tions, and the subjects of its own consciousness.
In researches concerning our intellectual and
active powers, the mind directs its attention to
the faculties which it exercises, or to the pro¬
pensities which put these faculties in motion.
In all the other inquiries which fall under the
province of the Metaphysician, the materials of
his reasoning are drawn chiefly from his own
internal resources. Nor is this observation less
applicable to speculations which relate to things
external, than to such as are confined to the
thinking and sentient principle within him. In
carrying on his researches (for example) con¬
cerning hardness, softness, figure, and motion,
he finds it not less necessary to retire within
himself, than in studying the laws of imagina¬
tion or memory. Indeed, in such cases, the
whole aim of his studies is to obtain a more pre¬
cise definition of his ideas, and to ascertain the
occasions on which they are formed.
From this account of the nature and object of
metaphysical science, it may be reasonably ex¬
pected, that those with whom it is a favourite
and habitual pursuit, should acquire a more than
ordinary capacity of retiring, at pleasure, from
the external to the internal world. They may
be expected also to acquire a disposition to ex¬
amine the origin of whatsoever combinations
they may find established in the fancy, and a
superiority to the casual associations which warp
common understandings. Hence an accuracy
and a subtlety in their distinctions on all sub¬
jects, and those peculiarities in their views which
are characteristical of unbiassed and original
thinking. But, perhaps, the most valuable fruit
of their researches, is that scrupulous precision
in the use of language, upon which, more than
upon any one circumstance whatever, the logi¬
cal accuracy of our reasonings, and the justness
of our conclusions, essentially depend. Accord¬
ingly it will be found, on a review of the history
of the moral sciences, that the most important
steps which have been made in some of those,
apparently the most remote from metaphysical
pursuits (in the science, for example, of politi¬
cal economy), have been made by men trained
to the exercise of their intellectual powers by
1 The following is the account of Metaphysics given by Hobbes There is a certain prhm, on which all
other Philosophy ought to depend; and consisteth principally in right limiting of the significations of such appellations, or
names, as are of all others the most universal: which limitations serve to avoid ambiguity and equivocation in reasoning,
and are commonly caUed Definitions; such as are the Definitions of Body, Time, I lace, Matter, Form, Essence, Sub-
jcct, Substance, Accident, Power, Act, Finite, Infinite, Quantity, Quality Motion, Action, Passion and dwers others, ne-
cessary to the explaining of a man’s conceptions concerning the nature and generation of bodies. I he explication (tl t ,
the settling of the meaning) of which, and the like terms, is commonly m the schools called Metaphysics. ~(Moral and Poli¬
tical Works. Folio Edit. London, 1750, p. 399.) B 8 ,15J 11
228
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
early habits of abstract meditation. To this fact
Burke probably alluded, when he remarked, that
s< by turning the soul inward on itself, its forces
are concentered, and are fitted for stronger and
bolder flights of science; and that in such pur¬
suits, whether we take, or whether we lose the
game, the chase is certainly of service.” The
names of Locke, of Berkeley, of Hume, of
Quesnai, of Turgot, of Morellet, and above all,
of Adam Smith, will at once illustrate the truth
of these observations, and show, that, in com¬
bining together, in this Dissertation, the sciences
of Metaphysics, of Ethics, and of Politics, I have
not adopted an arrangement altogether capri¬
cious. 1
In farther justification of this arrangement, I
might appeal to the popular prejudices so in¬
dustriously fostered by many, against these
three branches of knowledge, as ramifications
from one common and most pernicious root.
How often have Mr Smith’s reasonings in fa¬
vour of the freedom of trade been ridiculed as
metaphysical and. visionary ! Nay, but a few
years have elapsed, since this epithet (accom¬
panied with the still more opprobrious terms of
Atheistical and Democratical) was applied to
the argument then urged against the morality
and policy of the slave-trade; and, in general,
to every speculation in which any appeal was
made to the beneficent arrangements of nature,
or to the progressive improvement of the human
race. Absurd as this language was, it could
not, for a moment, have obtained any currency
with the multitude, had there not been an ob¬
vious connection between these liberal doc¬
trines, and the well known habits of logical
thinking, which so eminently distinguished their
authors and advocates. Whatever praise, there¬
fore, may be due to the fathers of the modern
science of political economy, belongs, at least in
part (according to the acknowledgment of their
most decided adversaries), to those abstract stu¬
dies by which they were prepared for an analy¬
tical investigation of its first and fundamental
principles.
Other connections and affinities between Poli¬
tical Economy and the Philosophy of the Hu¬
man Mind will present themselves afterwards.
At present I purposely confine myself to that
which is most obvious and indisputable.
The influence of metaphysical studies may be
also perceived in the philosophical spirit so large¬
ly infused into the best historical compositions
of the last century. This spirit has, indeed,
been often perverted to pernicious purposes; but
who can doubt, that, on the whole, both history
and philosophy have gained infinitely by the
alliance ?
How far a similar alliance has been advanta¬
geous to our poetry, may be more reasonably
questioned. But on the most unfavourable sup¬
position it must be admitted, that the number
of poetical readers has thereby been greatly in¬
creased, and the pleasures of imagination pro¬
portionally communicated to a wider circle.
The same remark may be extended to the study
of philosophical criticism. If it has not contri¬
buted to the encouragement of original genius
in the fine arts, it has been followed by a much
more beneficial result in diffusing a relish for the
beautiful and the elegant; not to mention its in¬
fluence in correcting and fixing the public taste,
by the precision and steadiness of the principles
to which it appeals.2
Another instance, still more important, of the
practical influence of metaphysical science, is
the improvement wliich, since the time of Locke,
has become general in the conduct of education,
1 It furnishes no objection to these remarks, that some of our best treatises on questions of political economy have pro¬
ceeded from men who were strangers to metaphysical studies. It is enough for my purpose if it be granted, that it was by
habits of metaphysical thinking that the minds of those authors were formed, by whom political economy was first exalted
to the dignity of a science. To a great proportion even of the learned, the rules of a sound logic are best taught by ex¬
amples ; and when a precise and well-defined phraseology is once introduced, the speculations of the most ordinary writers
assume an appearance (sometimes, it must be owned, a very fallacious one) of depth and consistency.
Fontenelle remarks, that a single great man is sufficient to accomplish a change in the taste of his age, and that the per¬
spicuity and method for which Descartes was indebted to his mathematical researches, were successfully copied by many of
his contemporaries who were ignorant of mathematics. A similar observation will be found to apply, with still greater
force, to the models of metaphysical analvsis and of logical discussion, exhibited in the political works of Hume arid of
Smith. »
s See some admirable remarks on this subject by Gray, in his comments on the lo of Plato. (Edition of Gray, bv
Miwfififtjitfo 10 {BloaqfiOT ssadj lie m 9flT ffioufqoeolnlq bo* .olyfaT; ytioiJqmT? ^inoeimiitiO
tA saxerrm aiorn riaura ,noini(Jo varai .si .bohoq emee sra? gtihoh MOiii'
DISSERTATION FIRST.
229
both private and public. In the former case,
the fact is universally acknowledged. But even
in our universities (notwithstanding the prover¬
bial aversion of most of them to everything
which savours of innovation) what a change has
been gradually accomplished since the beginning
of the eighteenth century! The studies of On¬
tology, of Pneumatology, and of Dialectics,
have been supplanted by that of the Human
Mind, conducted with more or less success, on
the plan of Locke’s Essay ; and, in a few seats
of learning, by the studies of Bacon’s Method of
Inquiry, of the Principles of Philosophical Criti¬
cism, and of the Elements of Political Economy.
In all this an approach has been made or at¬
tempted, to what Locke so earnestly recommend¬
ed to parents, £t that their children’s time should
be spent in acquiring what may be useful to
them when they come to be men.” Many other
circumstances, no doubt, have contributed their
share in producing this revolution ; but what in¬
dividual can be compared to Locke in giving the
first impulse to that spirit of reform by which it
has been established ?x <
In consequence of the operation of these
causes, a sensible change has taken place in the
style of English composition.3 The number of
idiomatical phrases has been abridged; and the
language has assumed a form more systematic,
precise, and luminous. The transitions, too, in
our best authors, have become more logical, and
less dependent on fanciful or verbal associations.
If by these means our native tongue has been
rendered more unfit for some of the lighter species
of writing, it has certainly gained immensely as
an instrument of thought, and as a vehicle of
fciiortiiorirmjs** an .wMlwoml to auriana'id oouL
f Under this head of education may also be mentioned the practical improvements which, during the course of the last
century, have taken place in what Lord Bacon calls the traditive part of logic. I allude here not only to the ne(w arrange¬
ments in the Lancasterian Schools, by which the diffusion of the art of reading among the poorer classes of the community
is so wonderfully facilitated and extended, but to those admirable elementary works which have opened a ready and speedy
access to the more recondite truths of the severer sciences. How much these have contributed to promote the progress of
mathematical knowledge in France may be judged of from an assertion of Condorcet, that two years spent under an able
teacher now carry the student beyond the conclusions which limited the researches of Leibnitz and pf Newton. The Es¬
says lately published on this subject by M. Lacroix (Essals sur VEmelgncment cn General, et suf 'cehn des Mathanatiques en
particulier. Paris, 1805) contain many valuable suggestions; and, beside their utility to those who are concerned in the
task of instruction, may justly be considered as an accession to the Philosophy of the Human Mind.
2 See some judicious remarks on this subject, in Mr Godwin’s Inquirer, p. 274. In the opinion of this author, “ the
English language is now written with more grammatical propriety than by the best of our ancestors; and with a much
higher degree of energy and vigour. The spirit of philosophy has infused itself into the structure of our sentences.” He
remarks farther, in favour of the present style of English composition, “ that it at once satisfies the understanding and the
ear.” The union of these two excellencies certainly constitutes the perfection of writing. Johnson boasts, and with truth,
in the concluding paper of the Rambler, that he had “ added something to our language in the elegance of its construction,
and something in the harmony of its cadence;” but what a sacrifice did he make to these objects, of conciseness; of simpli¬
city, and of (what he has himself called) Genuine Anglicism. To accomplish the same ends, without any sacrifice of these
higher merits, has been one of the chief aims of the most eminent among his successors. . „ •
As an instrument of thought and a medium of scientific communication, the English language appears to me, in its pre¬
sent state, to be far superior to the French. Diderot, indeed (a very high authority), has, with much confidence, asserted
the contrary; and it is but fair to let him speak for himself: “ J’ajouterois volontiers que la rharche didactique et reglde
k laquelle notre langue est assujettie la rend plus propre aux sciences; et que par les tours et les inversions que le Grec,
le Latin, 1’Italien, I’Anglois, se permettent, ces langues sont plus avantageuses pour les lettres; Quo nous pouvons mieux
qu’ aucun autre peuple faire parler I’esprit; et que le boh sens choisiroit la lahgiie Franqoise; mais que Tlmaginatforl et
les passions donneroient la preference aux langues anciennes et a celles de rtos voisins: Qu’il faut parler Iranqois dans la
societe et dans les ecoles de Philosophic; et Grec, Latin, Anglois, dans les chaires et sur le Theatre: Que notre langue
seroit celle de la verite, si jamais elle revient sur la terre ; et que la Grecque, la Latine, et les autres seroient les langues
de la fable et du mensonge. Le Francois est fait pour instruire, eelairer, et convaincre; le Grec, le Latin, ITtalien, i’Ang-
lois, pour persuader, emouvoir, et tromper; parlez Grec, Latin, Italien au peuple, mais parlez 1 ranqois au sage. —
(CEtivrcs de Diderot, Tome II. pp. 70, 7L Amsterdam, 1772-) ' . .
These peculiar excellencies of the French language are ascribed, in part, by Diderot, to the study of the Anstotelian Phi¬
losophy.—(Hid. p. 7*) I do not well see what advantage France should, in this respect, have enjoyed over England; and
since that philosophy fell into disrepute, it will scarcely be alleged that the habits of thinking cultivated by Lockes dis¬
ciples have been less favourable to a logical rigour of expression than those of any contemporary sect of 1 rench metaphy¬
sicians. ' vmr'b'rn T ' tcoi
A later French writer has, with far greater justice, acknowledged the important services rendered to the Fxench lan-
guage, by the gentlemen of the Port Itoyal Society. “ L’Ecole de Port Hoyal, feconde en penseurs, illjistree pai les ecrr-
vains les plus purs, par les erudits les plus laborieux du siecle de Louis XIV. eut deja rendu^ parmi nous un assez grand
service h la philosophic par cela seul qu’elle a puissament concouru a fixer notre langue, a lui donner ce caractere de
precision, de clarte, d’exactitude, qui la rend si favorable aux operations de I’esprit.”—Hist. Comparee, &c. lome II.
> 457) ^ ' ^
Mr Gibbon also has remarked, how much “ the learned Society of Port Royal contributed to establish in France a taste
for just reasoning, simplicity of style, and philosophical method.” The improvement, in all these respects, of our English
writers, during the same period, is, in my opinion, much more remarkable.
230
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
knowledge. May I not also add, that the study
of it has been greatly facilitated to foreigners;
and that in proportion to its rejection of colloqui¬
al anomalies, more durable materials are sup¬
plied to the present generation for transmitting
their intellectual acquisitions to posterity ?
But granting the truth of these reflections, it
may still be asked, what is the amount of the
discoveries brought to light by the metaphysical
speculations of the eighteenth century ? Or
rather, where are the principles to he found, of
which it can he justly said, that they unite the
suffrages, not of the whole, but even of the ma¬
jority of our present philosophers ? The question
has been lately put and urged, with no common
ability, by a foreign academician.
“ The diversity of doctrines (says M. de
Bonald) has increased, from age to age, with the
number of masters, and with the progress of
knowledge ; and Europe, which at present pos¬
sesses libraries filled with philosophical works,
and which reckons up almost as many philoso¬
phers as writers; poor in the midst of so much
riches, and uncertain, with the aid of all its
guides, which road it should follow; Europe,
the centre and the focus of all the lights of the
world, has yet its philosophy only in expecta¬
tion.”1
In proof of this assertion, the author appeals
to the Comparative History of Philosophical Sys¬
tems relative to the Principles of Human Knowledge,
by M. Degerando; and after a variety of acute
strictures on the contradictory systems there de¬
scribed, sums up his argument in the following
words:
“ Thus, the Comparative History of Philosophi¬
cal Systems is nothing else than a History of the
Variations of philosophical schools, leaving no
other impression upon the reader than an in¬
surmountable disgust at all philosophical re¬
searches ; and a demonstrated conviction of the
impossibility of raising an edifice on a soil so
void of consistency, and so completely surrounded
by the rwstfrightful precipices. About what then
are philosophers agreed ? What single point
have they placed beyond the reach of dispute ?
Plato and Aristotle inquired, What is science?
What is knowledge ? And we, so many ages after
these fathers of philosophy; we, so proud of the
progress of human reason, still continue to re¬
peat the same questions; vainly pursuing the
same phantoms which the Greeks pursued two
thousand years ago.”8
In reply to this bold attack on the evidence of
the moral sciences, it may suffice to recal to our
recollection the state of physical science not more
than two centuries ago. The argument of M.
de Bonald against the former is, in fact, precisely
the same with that ascribed by Xenophon to So¬
crates against those studies which have immor¬
talised the names of Boyle and Newton; and
which, in our own times, have revealed to us all
the wonders of the modern chemistry. What¬
ever contradictions, therefore, may yet exist in
our metaphysical doctrines (and of these con¬
tradictions many more than is commonly sus¬
pected will be found to be merely verbal), why
should we despair of the success of future ages
in tracing the laws of the intellectual world,
which, though less obvious than those of the
material world, are not less the natural and le¬
gitimate objects of human curiosity?
Nor is it at all wonderful that the beneficial
effects of metaphysical habits of thinking should
have been first perceived in political economy,
and some other sciences to which, on a super¬
ficial view, they may seem to have a very remote
relation ; and that the rise of the sap in the tree
of knowledge should be indicated by the germs
at the extremities of the branches, before any
1 Recherches PhUosojphiqucs, &c. p. 2. Paris, 1818.
2 IMd. pp. 58, 59.
On the other hand, may it not he asked, if the number of philosophical systems he greater than that of the sects which
at present divide the Christian church ? The allusion here made to Bossuet’s celebrated History of the Variations, shows
plainly that the similarity of the two cases had not been overlooked by the ingenious writer; and that the only effectual
remedy which, in his opinion, can be applied to either, is to subject once more the reason, both of philosophers and of di¬
vines, to the paramount authority of an infallible guide. The conclusion is such as might have been expected from a good
Catholic; but I trust that, in this country, it is not likely to mislead many of my readers. Some recent conversions to
Popery, however, which, in consequence of views similar to those of M. de Bonald, have taken place among the philoso¬
phers of Germany, afford a proof that, in the present political state of Europe, the danger of a temporary relapse into the
superstitions of the Church of Rome, how slight soever, ought not to be regarded as altogether visionary. (See Lectures on
the History of Literature, by Frederick Schlegee, Vol. II. pp. 65, 88, 89, 175, 187. English Translation, Edinburgh.)
DISSERTATION FIRST.
231
visible change is discernible in the trunk. The
sciences, whose improvement during the last
century has been generally acknowledged, are
those which are most open to common observa¬
tion ; wlule the changes which have taken place
in the state of metaphysics, have attracted the
notice of the few alone who take a deep interest
in these abstract pursuits. The swelling of the
buds, however, affords a sufficient proof that the
roots are sound, and encourages the hope that
the growth of the trunk, though more slow, will,
in process of time, be equally conspicuous with
that of the leaves and blossoms.
I shall close this part of my Dissertation with
remarking, that the practical influence of such
speculations as those of Locke and of Bacon is
to he traced only by comparing, on a large scale,
the state of the human mind at distant pe¬
riods. Both these philosophers appear to have
been fully aware (and I know of no philosopher
before them of whom the same thing can be
said), that the progressive improvement of the
species is to be expected less from the culture of
if iaixs \&as t9i6t&i9di 'to
■ilQ’j io itll&f. .89/J0J90i>. iHOl'ii7liqjij'uh JUlO
ana ^bionmioD 4 cisdi atom ^ io jJ > Unri '
/dw ,(India’/ (laiam ad ot bnuo'i so iff oaq
jilt lo u  
• bllO • * i J j ;i J VJ’J] I' iT.U, ' 10 / //Bi li-i
nil do aaods mutt auoivdo aaoi ifgnodt tdoidw
*al has fsiuisa adl gaal ton ais ebIiow Ishalsin
S. ^jigoimo rismijif do at oaf do jismiii^
■ijdonad ant tsill hxl'iabaov/ ifs is ai 10^
• ufg^uiil nfi lo atidsri isoigy dusiarn ■> •'.iaafJ
/oioftooa is'jjinoq ni l)97iai>ioq iairl aaod p/srf
uppa s ijo ..daiii #/ oj'aadaaiaa laiito amog has.
jiotnai psv s ai/sit oi fimaa ysm / jdJ twaiv huaii
*»it Otii m qsa adf to aaii adt teiij btis Mioiisiax
adl yd baisaibnl ad bkroda a^balv/uai i,t>
fits aiotad ^adoasid ad| io Baiiimaiixa adt m
the reasoning powers, strictly so called, than from
the prevention, in early life, of those artificial
impressions and associations, by means of which,
when once rivetted by habit, the strongest rea¬
son may be held in perpetual bondage. These
^impressions and associations may be likened to
the slender threads which fastened Gulliver to
the earth; and they are to be overcome, not by
a sudden exertion of intellectual force, but by
the gradual effect of good education, in break¬
ing them asunder one by one. Since the re¬
vival of letters, seconded by the invention of
printing, and by the Protestant Reformation,
this process has been incessantly going on, all
over the Christian world; but it is chiefly in
the course of the last century that the result has
become visible to common observers. How many
are the threads which, even in Catholic coun¬
tries, have been broken by the writings of Locke!
How many still remain to be broken, before the
mind of man can recover that moral liberty wliich,
at some future period, it seems destined to en-
joy !
fj£ Ibj. h) inn adt dtfp/ i bmi
,
aJotHjA'j ni 7 it m J9; auil fbIio7i
   lor
alaoqqn xoiliu , edi .noimaafi •eiiit fo tooxq ni
■ayZ iijjv.'eyv. ,\uV\ \ti adt os
:)Su(jb 1-* /loxiB - i' n bin obumio'^ •* * R 't*
-ab r -ijcfu • jibs'itu -ait no 'Oiusoni?
■j.ui•»'u.U'jJi jdJ i* • >ai’ *, giflU qn eifujr ffiodwo?
duo’f
i •• .v\V \ i v/» --l iv > • S m iVjiyUu J Oil * -esOili l* ,
~yfo v ■ ■ \\* »v.\v*- i> <!/>(! j :j49 gnidfon ■ji
•ii ‘.-Iu util ifsiO'-^itif. tsaiiiqogtuinq iq ■f^wvs^uvm %
ill til. ifidi lobstli dui iioqh iioiggsiquii itJiiJtJ
j aOijiqpf oiidq in isogsilf oidejunomii/;
it .^rusH
ro tediiiwri etiJ ii t
.g .q .Oj6 ,wk^s•«'%'jiVa-vaA'jjiV.
6o>.fjo'.qq ,tvol
nafi ad joh Ji y^rti ,hfi£rt T9xIlo 9iiJ nO
lioajnb nfii tabrO afii yhjyit ifiyaiaa
'tHfio vJr'tfi.rifmS Sift Jfidt
Tjidw eiaoB 9'rit io JBtiJ nsdi teJeein ed epaotsvs venrtqoaoun
-woite ^ balfiiddfsa e'Jjuafeu/l os diod. :
.BliJodug.-ylno ortl ifidi bifs’ jiaJirw euroind^ni arfJ yd' b^ioobovo /md *dcr bad
bna BitJdqoaoIiricT lo riJod .noaBO** odl st^rn to no ^ oJ ai .'foii iio ot bodqqa 9d rfBO ^notnrqo n i tu .noinw yooxtiai
ioojj b inoil boiooqza nood avsd Jrfaira as thm ns noiaiifonoor edl .ab.u^ aidiilahii: oa to yJnoalua Jawofostaq snl
d ano’ra'iovrtoo i/ioaoi 9frto3 .tn^baat vrft lo vascn bwlRint <»i yie/l ton rs li .Yttfmo ■ ?rdl ar rJf: * jRinj , 'v< s
‘laoliriq odl qnoniB aoaiq ooisi ovari bianoS ab .-P lo eftodJ oi iBiirnj> ?vtorv to aoujup^aaoa ni ,ri‘JHlvf .isvswod -yTafl® 1
<i’ olni oaqaisi runotimsi a lo lovnab 9til t9qoiu3 lo otBl? icotliioq ntzoiq srii a' -lari •- looiq a Iffima y/nfinnor t
’TQvvtisBSiiod??)—fdltlogolJB RS bobtBTj?nv9d ol ton ■ tsrwjB Jrfgtff wort -.omotl io••dtnnd-.'J wiliu enomw
Wstadniba .noilalaoBiT daiigni ,TOf .c-Vf W NOTES.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
N0te8 The chief purpose of these Notes and Illus-
and trations, is to verify some of the more important
Illustrations. . . -i . • tt- ^ • i
views contained in the foregoing Historical
Sketch. The errors into which I have frequent¬
ly been led by trusting to the information of
writers, who, in describing philosophical sys¬
tems, profess to give merely the general results
of their researches, unauthenticated by particu¬
lar references to the original sources, have long
convinced me of the propriety, on such occa¬
sions, of bringing under the eye of the reader,
the specific authorities on which my statements
proceed. Without such a check, the most faith¬
ful historian i& perpetually liable to the suspi¬
cion of accommodating facts to his favourite
theories; or of unconsciously blending with the
opinions he ascribes to others, the glosses of his
own imagination. The quotations in the fol- jfote3
lowing pages, selected principally from books T and
not now in general circulation, may, I hope,
the same time, be useful in facilitating the la¬
bours of those who shall hereafter resume the
same subject, on a scale more susceptible of the
minuteness of literary detail.
For a few short biographical digressions, with
which I have endeavoured to give somewhat of
interest and relief to the abstract and unattrac¬
tive topics which occupy so great a part of my
Discourse, I flatter myself that no apology is
necessary; more especially, as these digressions
will in general be found to throw some addi¬
tional light on the philosophical or the political
principles of the individuals to whom they re¬
late.
Note A, p, 15.
Sir Thomas More, though, towards the close of
his life, he became <c a persecutor even unto blood,
defiling with cruelties those hands which were
never polluted with bribes j”1 was, in his earlier
and better days, eminently distinguished by the
humanity of his temper, and the liberality of his
opinions. Abundant proofs of this may be col¬
lected from his Letters to Erasmus; and from the
sentiments, both religious and political, indirect¬
ly inculcated in his Utopia. In contempt for the
ignorance and profligacy of the monks, he was
not surpassed by his correspondent; and against
various superstitions of the Romish church, such
as the celibacy of priests, and the use of images
in worship, he has expressed himself more de¬
cidedly than could well have been expected from
a man placed in his circumstances. But these
were not the whole of his merits. His ideas on
Criminal Law are still quoted with respect by
the advocates for a milder code than has yet
been introduced into this country; and, on the
subject of toleration, no modern politician has
gone farther than his Utopian Legislators.
The disorders occasioned by the rapid pro¬
gress of the Reformation, having completely
shaken his faith in the sanguine speculations of
his youth, seem at length, by alarming his fears
as to the fate of existing establishments, to have
1 Burnet.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
es unhinged his understanding, and perverted his
d moral feelings. The case was somewhat the
same with his friend Erasmus, who, as Jortin
remarks, “ began in his old days to act the
zealot and the missionary with an ill grace, and
to maintain, that there were certain heretics who
might be put to death as blasphemers and riot¬
ers” (pp. 428, 481). In the mind of Erasmus,
other motives, it is not improbable, concurred;
his biographer and apologist being forced to ac¬
knowledge, that “ he was afraid lest Francis,
and Charles, and Ferdinand, and George, and
Henry VIII., and other persecuting princes,
should suspect that he condemned their cruel
conduct.”—(Ibid. p. 481.)
Something, it must at the same time be ob¬
served, may be alleged in behalf of these two
illustrious persons: not, indeed, in extenuation
of their unpardonable defection from the cause
of religious liberty, but of their estrangement
from some of their old friends, who scrupled not
to consider as apostates and traitors, all those
who, while they acknowledged the expediency
of ecclesiastical reform, did not approve of the
violent measures employed for the accomplish¬
ment of that object. A very able and candid
argument on this point may be found in Bayle,
Article Castellan, Note Q.
Note B, p. 16.
The following short extract will serve to con-
vey a general idea of Calvin’s argument upon
the subject of usury.
“ Pecunia non parit pecuniam. Quid mare?
quid domus, ex cujus locatione pensionem per-
cipio ? an ex tectis et parietibus argentum pro-
prie nascitur ? Sed et terra producit, et mari
advehitur quod pecuniam deinde producat, et
habitationis commoditas cum certa pecunia pa-
rari commutarive solet. Quod si igitur plus ex
negotiatione lucri percipi possit, quam ex fundi
cujusvis proventu : an feretur qui fundum ste-
rilem fortasse colono locaverit ex quo mercedem
vel proventum recipiat sibi, qui ex pecunia
fructum aliquem perceperit, non feretur ? et qui
pecunia lundum acquirit, annon pecunia ilia ge¬
neral alteram annuam pecuniam ? Unde vero
mercatoris lucrum? Ex ipsius, inquies, dili-
gentia atque industria. Quis dubitat pecuniam
vacuam inutilem omnino esse? neque qui a me
mutuam rogat, vacuam apud se habere a me
acceptam cogitat. Non ergo ex pecunia ilia
lucrum accedit, sed ex proventu. Illse igitur
rationes subtiles quidem sunt, et speciem quan-
dam habent, sed ubi propius expenduntur, reipsa
concidunt. Nunc igitur concludo, judicandum
de usuris esse, non ex particular! aliquo Scrip-
turae loco, sed tantum ex sequitatis regula.”—
(Calvini Epistolce.J
Note C, p. 22.
The prevailing idea among Machiavel’s con¬
temporaries and immediate successors certainly
was, that the design of the Prince was hostile to
the rights of mankind; and that the author was
either entirely unprincipled, or adapted his pro¬
fessed opinions to the varying circumstances of
his own eventful life. The following are the
words of Bodinus, born in 1580, the very year
when Machiavel died; an author whose judg¬
ment will have no small weight with those who
are acquainted with his political writings:
“ Machiavel s’est bien fort mesconte, de dire que
1’estat populaire est le meilleur :1 et neantmoins
ayant oublie sa premiere opinion, il a tenu en
un autre lieu,2 que pour restituer 1’Italic en sa
liberte, il faut qu’il n’y ait qu’un Prince; et de
fait, il s’est efforce de former un estat le plus
tyrannique du monde; et en autre lieu5 il con-
fesse, que 1’estat de Venice est le plus beau de
tous, lequel est une pure Aristocratic, s’il en fut
onques : tellement qu’il ne S9ait a quoi se tenir.”
—(De la Republique, Liv. vi. chap. iv. Paris,
1576). In the Latin version of the above pas¬
sage, the author applies to Machiavel the phrase,
Homo levissimus ac nequissimus.
One of the earliest apologists for Machiavel
was Albericus Gentilis, an Italian author of
whom some account will he given afterwards.
His words are these : “ Machiavel, a warm pa¬
negyrist and keen asserter of democracy; born,
educated, promoted under a republican govern-
1 Discourses upon Livy.
DISS. I. PART II.
8 Discourses upon Livy.
2 a
* Prince, Book i. c. ix.
234
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes ment, was in the highest possible degree hostile
Illustrations-to tyranny. The scope of his work, according-
ly, is not to instruct tyrants; hut, on the con¬
trary, by disclosing their secrets to their op¬
pressed subjects, to expose them to public view,
stripped of all their trappings.” He afterwards
adds, that “ Machiavel’s real design was, under
the mask of giving lessons to sovereigns, to open
the eyes of the people; and that he assumed
this mask in the hope of thereby securing a freer
circulation to his doctrines.”—f De Legationibus^
Lib. iii. c. ix. Loud. 1585). The same idea was
afterwards adopted and zealously contended for
by Wicquefort, the author of a noted book en¬
titled the Ambassador ; and by many other wri¬
ters of a later date.1 Bayle, in his Dictionary,
has stated ably and impartially the arguments
on both sides of the question : evidently leaning,
however, very decidedly, in his own opinion, to
that of Machiavel’s apologists.
The following passage from the excellent work
of M. Simonde de Sismondi on the Literature of
the South, appears to me to approach very near
to the truth in the estimate it contains both of
the spirit of the Prince, and of the character of
the author. c< The real object of Machiavel can¬
not have been to confirm upon the throne a ty¬
rant whom he detested, and against whom he
had already conspired; nor is it more probable
that he had a design to expose to the people the
maxims of tyranny, in order to render them
odious. Universal experience made them at
that time sufficiently known to all Italy; and
that infernal policy which Machiavel reduced to
principles, was, in the sixteenth century, prac¬
tised by every government. There is rather, in
his manner of treating it, a universal bitterness
against mankind; a contempt of the whole hu¬
man race; which makes him address them in
the language to wlrich they had debased them¬
selves. He speaks to the interests of men, and to
their selfish calculations, as if he thought it use¬
less to appeal to their enthusiasm or to their
moral feelings.”
I agree perfectly with M. de Sismondi in con¬
sidering the two opposite hypotheses referred to Notes
in the above extract, as alike untenable; and have I1]us^.
only to add to his remarks, that, in writing the
Prince, the author seems to have been more un¬
der the influence of spleen, of ill-humour, and
of blasted hopes, than of any deliberate or sys¬
tematical purpose, either favourable or adverse
to human happiness. The prevailing sentiment
in his mind probably was, Si populus vult decipi,
decipiatur.2
According to this view of the subject, Ma¬
chiavel’s Prince, instead of being considered as
a new system of political morality, invented by
himself, ought to he regarded merely as a di¬
gest of the maxims of state policy then univer¬
sally acted upon in the Italian courts. If I be
not mistaken, it was in this light that the book
was regarded by Lord Bacon, whose opinion
concerning it being, in one instance, somewhat
ambiguously expressed, has been supposed by
several writers of note (particularly Bayle and
Mr Roscoe) to have coincided with that quoted
above from Alhericus Gentilis. To me it ap¬
pears, that the very turn of the sentence ap¬
pealed to on this occasion is rather disrespectful
than otherwise to Machiavel’s character. “ Est
itaque quod gratias agamus Machiavellio et hu-
jusmodi scriptoribus, qui aperte et indissimulanter
proferunt, quid homines facere soleant, non quid
debeant.”—(De Aug. Scient. Lib. vii. cap. ii.)
The best comment, however, on these words, is
to be found in another passage of Bacon, where
he has expressed his opinion of Machiavel’s mo¬
ral demerits in terms as strong and unequivocal
as language can furnish. <{ Quod enim ad ma-
las artes attinet; si quis Machiavellio se dederit
in disciplinam; qui prsecipit,” &c. &c. &c. See
the rest of the paragraph (De Aug. Scient. Lib.
viii. cap. ii.) See also a passage in Book vn.
chap. viii. beginning thus : “ An non et hoc ve-
rum est, juvenes multo minus Politicce quam
Ethicce auditores idoneos esse, antequam relr
gione et doctrina de moribus et officiis plane un-
buantur; ne forte judicio depravati et corrupt),
in earn opinionem veniant, non esse rerum dif-
1 See in particular Rousseau Du Contrat Social, Liv. iii. c. vi. _ _
8 Many traces of this misanthropic disposition occur in the historical and even in the dramatic works of Machiavel. U
is very justly observed by M. de Sismondi, that “ the pleasantry of his comedies is almost always mingled with gall. HIS
laughter at the human race is but the laughter of contempt.”
DISSERTATION FIRST.
235
ie8 ferentias morales veras et solidas, sed omnia ex
l. utilitate.—Sic enim Machiavellio dicere placet,
mons. r
Quod si contigisset Caesarem bello superatwn fuisse,
Catilina ipso fuisset odiosior,” &c. &c. After
these explicit and repeated declarations of his
sentiments on this point, it is hard that Bacon
should have been numbered among the apolo¬
gists of Machiavel, by such high authorities as
Bayle, and the excellent biographer of Lorenzo
de Medicis.
It has been objected to me, that in the fore¬
going observations on the design of the Prince^ I
have taken no notice of the author’s vindication
of himself and his writings, in his letter to
Zenobius Buondelmontius, annexed to the
old English translation of Machiavel, printed
at London in 1675 and 1680. In the preface to
this translation, we are told, that the letter in
question <{ had never before been published in
any language, but lurked for above eighty years in
the private cabinets of his own kindred, or the
descendants of his admirers in Florence, till, in
the Pontificate of Urban VIII., it was procured by
the Jesuits and other busy bodies, and brought
to Rome with an intention to divert that wise
Pope from his design of making one of Nicholas
Machiavel’s name and family cardinal, as (not¬
withstanding all their opposition) he did, not
long after. When it was gotten into that city,
it wanted not those who had the judgment and
curiosity to copy it, and so at length came to en¬
joy that privilege which all rare pieces (even
the sharpest libels and pasquins) challenge at
that court, which is to be sold to strangers, one
of which, being a gentleman of this country,
brought it over with him at his return from
thence in 1645, and having translated it into
English, did communicate it to divers of his
friends; and by means of some of them, it hath
been my good fortune to be capable of making
thee a present of it; and let it serve as an
apology for our author and his writings, if thou
thinkest he need any.”
As the translation of Machiavel, from which Notes
this advertisement is copied, is still in the hands illustration?
of many readers in this country, it may not be
improper to mention here, that the letter in
question is altogether of English fabrication;
and (as far as I can learn) is quite unknown on
the Continent. It is reprinted at the end of the
second volume of Farneworth’s Translation of
Machiavel’s works, 1762, with the following
statement prefixed to it.1
“ The following letter having been printed in
all the editions of the old translation, it is here
given to the reader, though it certainly was not
written by Machiavel. It bears date in 1537,
and his death is placed by all the best historians
in 1530. There are, besides, in it many internal
marks, which to the j udicious will clearly prove
it to be the work of some other writer, vainly
endeavouring at the style and manner of our
excellent author. The letter is indeed a spirited
and judicious defence of Machiavel and his
writings ; but it is written in a style too inflated,
and is utterly void of that elegance and precision
which so much distinguish the works of the
Florentine secretary.”
To the author of this last translation we are
farther indebted for a very curious letter of Dr
Warburton’s, which renders it probable that the
forgery was contrived and carried into execution
by the Marquis of Wharton. I shall transcribe
the letter in Warburton’s words.
“ There is at the end of the English transla¬
tion of Machiavel’s works, printed in folio, 1680,
a translation of a pretended letter of Machiavel
to Zenobius Buondelmontius, in vindication of
himself and his writings. I believe it has been
generally understood to be a feigned thing, and
has by some been given to Nevil, he who wrote,
if I do not mistake, the Plato liedivivus. But
many years ago, a number of the famous Marquis
of Wharton’s papers (the father of the Duke)
were put into my hands. Amongst these was
the press copy (as appeared by the printer’s marks,
where any page of the printed letter began and
ended) of this remarkable letter in the Marquis’s
hand-writing, as I took it to be, compared with
1 In a book published 1816, this letter is referred to without any expression of doubt as to its authenticity. See
Miller’s Lectures on the Philosophy of Modern History, Dublin, 1816, p. 17*
236
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes other papers of his. The person who intrusted
Illustrations.1116 w^h these papers, and who I understood had
given them to me, called them hack out of my
hands. This anecdote I communicated to the
late Speaker; and, at his desire, wrote down the
substance of what I have told you, in his book
of the above edition.—W. Gloucester.”1
From a memoir read before the French Insti¬
tute in July 1814, by M. Daunou,2 it appears
that some new light has been lately thrown on
the writings and life of Machiavel by the dis¬
covery of some of his unpublished papers. The
following particulars cannot fail to be gratifying
to many of my readers.
“ M. Ginguene continue son Histoire de la Lit-
terature Italierme, et vient de communique!’ a
la classe Tun des articles qui vont composer le
septieme tome de cette histoire. C’est un tableau
de la vie et des ecrits de Nicolas Machiavel. La
vie de cet ecrivain celebre est le veritable com-
mentaire de ses livres; et jusqu’ici ce commen-
taire etoit reste fort incomplet. Par exemple, on
se bornait a dire, que la republique de Florence,
dontil etoit le secretaire, Favoit charge de diverses
missions politiques a la cour de France, a la
cour de Rome, aupres du Due de Valentinois,
aupres de 1’Empereur, au camp de Pise, &c. &c.
M. Ginguene le suit annee par annee dans toutes
ses legations, il en fait connditre I’objet et les
principales circonstances. Cette vie devient ainsi
une partie essentielle de 1’histoire de Florence,
et tient meme a celle des puissances qui etoient
alors en relation avec cette republique. On lit peu
dans la collection des CEuvres de Machiavel, ses
correspondances politiques, quineanmoins offrent
tous ces details et jettent un grand jour sur
son caractere et sur ses intentions. Malheu-
reusement, ce jour lui est peu favorable, et ne
nous eclaire que trop sur le veritable sens dans
lequel doit etre pris son Traite du Prince si
diversement juge. L’une des pieces les plus
curieuses et les plus decisives est une lettre
qu’il ecrivit de la campagne ou il s’etoit retire Note
apres la rentree des Medicis a Florence FIllus®n‘i.
venoit d’etre destitue de ses emplois; implique
dans une conspiration contre ces princes, il
avoit ete incarcere, mis a la torture, et juge
innocent, soit qu’il le fut en effet, soit que les
tourmens n’eussent pu lui arracher 1’aveu de
sa faute. Il trace dans ce lettre le tableau de ses
occupations et de ses projets, des travaux et des
distractions qui remplissent ses journees. Pour
sortir d’une position voisine de la misere, il sent
la necessite de rentrer en grace avec les Medicis,
et n’en trouve pas de meilleur moyen que de
dedier le Traite du Prince qu’il vient d’achever
a Julien le Jeune, frere du Leon X., et a qui
ce Pape avoit confie le gouvernement de Flo¬
rence. Machiavel croit que son Traite ne peut
manquer d’etre agreable et utile a un prince,
et surtout a un nouveau prince. Quelque terns
apres, il fit en effet homage de ce livre, non a
Julien, mais a Laurent II. Cette lettre, qui
n’est connue en Italic, que depuis peu d’annees,
etoit encore ignoree en France. M. Ginguene
1’a traduite: il pense qu’elle ne laisse aucune
incertitude sur le but et les intentions de hau¬
teur du Traite du Prince.”—Some farther de¬
tails on this subject are to be found in a subse¬
quent memoir by the same author, read before
the French Institute in July 1815.
Soon after reading the above passage in M.
Daunou’s Report, I received nearly the same in¬
formation from the north of Italy. It cannot be so
well expressed as in the words of the writer :—
“ Pray tell Mr Stewart that there is a very
remarkable letter of Machiavel’s lately publish¬
ed, written to a private friend at the very time
he was engaged in the composition of the
Prince, and not only fixing the date of that
work, but explaining in a manner disgraceful
to the author, the use he made of it, in putting
it into the hands of the Medicis family. The
letter is besides full of character, and describes,
1 In a letter from Warburton to the Reverend Mr Birch, there is the following passage :—“ I told you, I think, I had
several of old Lord Wharton’s papers. Amongst the rest is a manuscript in his own handwriting, a pretended translation
of a manuscript apologetical epistle of Machiavel’s, to his friend Zenobio. It is a wonderful fine thing. There are the
printer’s marks on the manuscript, which makes me think it is printed. There is a postscript of Lord Wharton’s to it, by
which it appears this pretended translation was designed to prefix to an English edition of his works. As I know nothing of
the English edition of Machiavel, I wish you would make this out, and let me know.”—(Illustrations of the Literary
History of the \Qth century, intended as a sequel to the Literary Anecdotes by John Nichols. \7ol. II. p. 88.)
2 Rapport sur les Travaux de la Classe d'Histoire, Ac. 1 Juillet, 1814.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
237
tes in a very lively manner, the life he was leading
ld. when driven away from Florence. This narti-
jll; ations. ^ i
^ cular letter may be read at the end of the last
volume of Pignotti’s Storia della Toscana; a
book published here, but which was in all
the London shops before I came away. It is
to be found also with several others, which are
entertaining and curious, in a new collection
published at Florence in 1814, of Machiavel’s
public dispatches and familiar letters. By the
way, I must likewise tell Mr Stewart that my
late reading has suggested a slight criticism
upon one expression of his with regard to Ma-
chiavel’s Prince^ where he calls it one of the
“ latest of his publications.” The fact is, that
the three great works were none of them pub¬
lished in his lifetime, nor for four years after
his death. They appear to have been all writ¬
ten at the same period of his life, during the
eight or ten years of leisure that were forced
upon him; and I believe it may be made out
from the works themselves, that the Prince was
composed and finished first of the three, then
the Discourses, and last of all the History. This
and the first having been written for the Medicis
family, the MSS. were in their hands, and they
published them; the Discourses were printed by
the care of some of his personal friends. If Mr
Stewart wishes to have the proof of all this in
detail, I can draw it out without any trouble.”
The foregoing passage will be read by many
with no common interest, when it is known
that it formed part of a letter from the late
Francis Horner, written a very few weeks be¬
fore his death. Independently of the satisfac¬
tion I feel in preserving a memorial of his kind
attention to his friends, at a period when he
was himself an object of such anxious solicitude
to his country, I was eager to record the opi¬
nion of so perfect and accomplished a judge on
a question which, for more than two centuries,
has divided the learned world; and which, his
profound admiration of Machiavel’s genius, com¬
bined with the most unqualified detestation of
Machiavel’s principles, had led him to study
with peculiar care. The letter is dated Pisa,
December 17. 1816.
The united tribute of respect already paid by
Mr Horner’s political friends and his political
opponents, to his short but brilliant and spotless Notes
career in public life, renders all additional eulo- T„ aml
. . . . Illustrations,
gies on Ins merits as a statesman, equally feeble
and superfluous. Of the extent and variety
of his learning, the depth and accuracy of his
scientific attainments, the classical (perhaps
somewhat severe) purity of his taste, and the
truly philosophical cast of his whole mind, none
had better opportunities than myself to form a
judgment, in the course of a friendship which
commenced before he left the University, and
which grew till the moment of his death. But
on these rare endowments of his understanding,
or the still rarer combination of virtues which
shed over all his mental gifts a characteristi-
cal grace and a moral harmony, this is not the
proper place to enlarge. Never certainly was
more completely realized the ideal portrait so
nobly imagined by the Roman poet: “ A calm
devotion to reason and justice, the sanctuary of
the heart undefiled, and a breast glowing with
inborn honour.”
Compositum jus fasque animo, sanctosque recessus
Mentis, et incoctum generoso pectus honesto.
Note D, p. 27.
The charge of plagiarism from Bodin has been
urged somewhat indelicately against Montes¬
quieu, by a very respectable writer, the Cheva¬
lier de Filangieri. “ On a cru, et 1’on croit
peut-etre encore, que Montesquieu a parle le
premier de I’influence du climat. Cette opinion
est une erreur. Avant lui, le delicat et ingd-
nieux Fontenelle s’etoit exerce sur cet objet.
Machiavel, en plusieurs endroits de ses ouvrages,
parle aussi de cette influence du climat sur le
physique et sur le moral des peuples. Chardin,
un de ces voyageurs qui savent observer, a fait
beaucoup de reflexions sur I’influence physique
et moral des climats. L’Abbe Dubos a soutenu
et developpe les pensees de Chardin ; et Bodin,
qui peut-etre avoit lu dans Polybe que le climat
determine les formes, la couleur, et les moeurs
des peuples, en avoit deja fait, cent cinquante
ans auparavant, la base de son systeme, dans
son livre de la Republique, et dans sa Methode
de 1’Histoire. Avant tous ces ecrivains, 1’im-
mortel Hippocrate avoit traite fort au long cette
238
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes matiere dans son fameux ouvrage de Vair, des
Illustrations eouxi ^es ^teux‘ L’auteur de 1’Esprit des Lois,
sans citer un seul de ces philosophes, etablit a
son tour un systeme; mais il ne fit qu alterer
les pi'incipes d’Hippocrate, et donner une plus
grande extension aux idees de Dubos, de Chardin,
et de Bodin. II voulut faire croire au public
qu’il avoit eu le premier quelques idees sur ce
sujet; et le public Ten crut sur sa parole.”—La
Science de la Legislation, ouvrage traduit de Vita-
lien. Paris, 1786. Tom. I. pp. 225, 226.
The enumeration here given of writers whose
works are in every body’s hands, might have
satisfied Filangieri, that, in giving his sanction
to this old theory, Montesquieu had no wish to
claim to himself the praise of originality. It is
surprising, that, in the foregoing list, the name
of Plato should have been omitted, who concludes
his fifth book, De Legibus, with remarking, that
“ all countries are not equally susceptible of the
same sort of discipline; and that a wise legisla¬
tor will pay a due regard to the diversity of na¬
tional character, arising from the influence of
climate and of soil.” It is not less surprising,
that the name of Charron should have been over¬
looked, whose observations on the moral influ¬
ence of physical causes discover as much ori¬
ginality of thought as those of any of his succes¬
sors.—See De la Sagesse, Livre i. chap, xxxvii.
Note E, p. 29.
Innumerable instances of Luther’s credulity
and superstition are to be found in a book en¬
titled Martini Lutheri Colloquia Mensalia, fyc.
first published, according to Bayle, in 1571.
The only copy of it which I have seen, is a trans¬
lation from the German into the English tongue
by Captain Henrie Bell. (London 1652.) This
work, in which are “ gathered up the fragments
of the divine discourses which Luther held at
his table with Philip Melanchthon, and divers
other learned men,” bears to have been origi¬
nally collected “ out of his holy mouth” by Dr
Anthony Lauterbach, and to have been after¬
wards “ digested into common-places” by Dr
Aurifaber. Although not sanctioned with Lu¬
ther’s name, I do not know that the slightest
doubts of its details have been suggested, even
by such of his followers as have regretted the Notei
indiscreet communication to the public, of his Illu“adt,
unreserved table-talk with his confidential com- v^-V'
panions. The very accurate Seckendorff has
not called in question its authenticity; but on
the contrary, gives it his indirect sanction, by
remarking, that it was collected with little pru¬
dence, and not less imprudently printed : “ Libro
Colloquiorum Mensalium minus quidem caute
composite et vulgato.” (Bayle, article Luther,
Note L.) It is very often quoted as an autho¬
rity by the candid and judicious Dr Jortin.
In confirmation of what I have said of Luther’s
credulity, I shall transcribe, in the words of the
English translator, the substance of one of
Luther’s Divine Discourses, “ concerning the
devil and his works.” “ The devil (said Lu¬
ther) can transform himself into the shape of a
man or a woman, and so deceiveth people; in¬
somuch that one thinketh he lieth by a right
woman, and yet is no such matter; for, as St
Paul saith, the devil is strong by the child of
unbelief. But inasmuch as children or devils
are conceived in such sort, the same are very
horrible and fearful examples. Like unto this
it is also with what they call the Nix in the wa¬
ter, who draweth people unto him as maids and
virgins, of whom he begetteth devils’ children.
The devil can also steal children away; as
sometimes children within the space of six weeks
after their birth are lost, and other children,
called supposititii, or changelings, laid in their
places. Of the Saxons they were called Kill-
crops.
“ Eight years since,” said Luther, “ at Des¬
sau, I did see and touch such a changed child,
which was twelve years of age; he had his eyes,
and all members, like another child; he did no¬
thing but feed, and would eat as much as two
clowns were able to eat. I told the Prince of
Anhalt, if I were prince of that country, I would
venture homicidium thereon, and would throw it
into the river Mol daw. I admonished the people
dwelling in that place devoutly^ to pray to God
to take away the devil. The same was done ac¬
cordingly, and the second year after the change¬
ling died.
“ In Saxony, near unto Halberstad, was a
man that also had a killcrop, who sucked the
DISSERTATION FIRST.
239
tes mother and five other women dry, and besides
d. devoured very much. This man was advised
2^/that he should, in his pilgrimage at Halberstad,
make a promise of the killcrop to the Virgin
Marie, and should cause him there to be rocked.
This advice the man followed, and carried the
changeling thither in a basket. But going over
a river, being upon the bridge, another devil
that was below in the river, called and said,
Killcrop ! kiUcrop ! Then the child in the bas¬
ket (which never before spoke one word), an¬
swered, Ho, ho. The devil in the water asked
further, Whither art thou going? The child in
the basket said, I am going towards Hocklestad
to our loving mother, to be rocked. The man
being much affrighted thereat, threw the child,
with the basket, over the bridge into the water.
Whereupon the two devils flew away together,
and cried Ho, ho, ha, tumbling themselves over
one another, and so vanished.”—(pp. 386, 387.)
With respect to Luther’s Theological Disputes
with the Devil, see the passages quoted by Bayle,
Art. Luther, Note U.
Facts of this sort, so recent in their date, and
connected with the history of so great a charac¬
ter, are consolatory to those who, amid the fol¬
lies and extravagancies of their contempoi'aries,
are sometimes tempted to despair of the cause
of truth, and of the gradual progress of human
reason.
Note F, p. 38.
Ben Jonson is one of the few contemporary
writers by whom the transcendant genius of Ba¬
con appears to have been justly appreciated;
and the only one I know of, who has transmit¬
ted any idea of his forensic eloquence ; a subject
on which, from his own professional pursuits,
combined with the reflecting and philosophical
cast of his mind, Jonson was peculiarly qualified
to form a competent judgment. “ There hap¬
pened,” says he, “ in my time, one noble speak¬
er, who was full of gravity in his speaking. No
man ever spoke more neatly, more pressly, more N0;es
weightily, or suffered less emptiness, lest idle- and
• , ■■ . -t , ^ . Illustrations.
ness in what he uttered. No member of his
speech but consisted of its own graces. His
hearers could not cough, or look aside from him,
without loss. He commanded where he spoke,
and had his j udges angry and pleased at his de¬
votion. The fear of every man that heard him
was, that he should make an end.” No finer
description of the perfection of this art is to be
found in any author, ancient or modern.
The admiration of Jonson for Bacon (whom
he appears to have known intimately1) seems
almost to have blinded him to those indelible
shades in his fame, to which, even at this dis¬
tance of time, it is impossible to turn the eye
without feelings of sorrow and humiliation.
Yet it is but candid to conclude, from the post¬
humous praise lavished on him by Jonson and
by Sir Kenelm Digby,8 that the servility of the
courtier, and the laxity of the judge, were, in
the relations of private life, redeemed by many
estimable and amiable qualities. That man
must surely have been marked by some rare fea¬
tures of moral as well as of intellectual great¬
ness, of whom, long after his death, Jonson
could write in the following words :
“ My conceit of his person was never increas¬
ed toward him by his place or honours; but I
have and do reverence him, for the greatness
that was only proper to himself, in that he
seemed to me ever, by his works, one of the
greatest men, and most worthy ot admiration,
that had been in many ages. In his adversity,
I ever prayed that God would give him strength,
for greatness he could not want. Neither could
I condole in a word or syllable for him, as know¬
ing no accident could do harm to virtue, but
rather help to make it manifest.”
In Aubrey’s anecdotes of Bacon,5 there are
several particulars not unworthy of the atten¬
tion of his future biographers. One expression
of this writer is more peculiarly striking: “ In
short, all that were great and good loved and
1 Jonson is said to have translated into Latin great part of the books De Augmentis Scientiarum. Dr tVarton states
this (I do not know on what authority) as an undoubted fact. Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope.
s See his letters to M. de Fermat, printed at the end of Fermat’s Opera Mathematica, Tolosae, 1679.
* Lately published in the extracts from the Bodleian library.
240
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS*
Notes honoured him.” When it is considered, that
Illustrations Aubrey’s knowledge of Bacon was derived chief-
ly through the medium of Hobbes, who had
lived in habits of the most intimate friendship
with both, and whose writings shew that he was
far from being an idolatrous admirer of Bacon’s
philosophy, it seems impossible for a candid
mind, after reading the foregoing short but com¬
prehensive eulogy, not to feel a strong inclina¬
tion to dwell rather on the fair than on the dark
side of the Chancellor’s character, and, before
pronouncing an unqualified condemnation, care¬
fully to separate the faults of the age from those
of the individual.
Au affecting allusion of his own, in one of his
greatest works, to the errors and misfortunes of
his public life, if it does not atone for his faults,
may, at least, have some effect in softening the
asperity of our censures. “ Ad literas potius
quam ad aliud quicquam natus, et ad res ge-
rendas nescio quo fato contra genium suum ab-
reptus.”—De Aug. Scient. L. viii. c. iii.
Even in Bacon’s professional line, it is now
admitted, by the best judges, that he was great¬
ly underrated by his contemporaries. “ The
Queen did acknowledge,” says the Earl of Es¬
sex, in a letter to Bacon himself, “ you had a
great wit, and an excellent gift of speech, and
much other good learning. But in law, she ra¬
ther thought you could make shew, to the utmost
of your knowledge, than that you were deep.”
“ If it be asked,” says Dr Hurd, “ how the
Queen came to form this conclusion, the answer
is plain. It was from Mr Bacon’s having a
great wit, an excellent gift of speech, and much
other good learning.”—(Hurd’s Dialogues.)
The following testimony to Bacon’s legal
knowledge (pointed out to me by a learned
friend) is of somewhat more weight than Queen
Elizabeth’s judgment against it: “ What might
we not have expected,” says Mr Hargrave, af¬
ter a high encomium on the powers displayed
by Bacon in his ‘ Reading on the Statute of Uses
“ what might we not have expected from the
hands of such a master, if his vast mind had not
so embraced within its compass the whole field
of science, as very much to detach him from
professional studies !’•’
It was probably owing in part to his court-
disgrace, that so little notice was taken of Ba- Note,
con, for some time after his death, by those Eng-Illu ^
lish writers who availed themselves, without
any scruple, of the lights struck out in his
works. A very remarkable example of this oc¬
curs in a curious, though now almost forgotten
book (published in 1627), entitled, An Apology
or Declaration of the Power and Providence of
God in the Government of the World, by George
Hakewill, D. D. Archdeacon of Surrey. It is
plainly the production of an uncommonly liberal
and enlightened mind; well stored with various
and choice learning, collected both from ancient
and modern authors. Its general aim may be
guessed at from the text of Scripture prefixed to
it as a motto, “ Say not thou, what is the cause
that the former days are better than these, for
thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this;”
and from the words of Ovid, so happily applied
by Hakewill to the “ common error touching
the golden age,”
Prisca juvent alios, ego me nunc denique natum
Gratulor.
That the general design of the book, as well
as many incidental observations contained in it,
was borrowed from Bacon, there cannot, I ap¬
prehend, be a doubt; and yet I do not recollect
more than one or two references (and these very
slight ones) to his writings, through the whole
volume. One would naturally have expected,
that, in the following passage of the epistle de¬
dicatory, the name of the late unfortunate Chan¬
cellor of England, who had died in the course
of the preceding year, might have found a place
along with the other great clerks there enume¬
rated : u I do not believe that all regions of the
world, or all ages in the same region, afford
wits always alike; but this I think (neither is
it my opinion alone, but of Scaliger, Yives, Bu-
daeus, Bodin, and other great clerks), that the
wits of these latter ages, being manured by m-
dustry, directed by precepts, and regulated by
method, may be as capable of deep speculations,
and produce as masculine and lasting births, as
any of the ancienter times have done. But if
we conceive them to be giants, and ourselves
dwarfs; if we imagine all sciences already to
have received their utmost perfection, so as we
need not but translate and comment on what
DISSERTATION FIRST.
241
[otes they have done, surely there is little hope that
ind We should ever come near them, much less
vO match them. The first step to enable a man to
the achieving of great designs, is to be persuad¬
ed that he is able to achieve them ; the next
not to be persuaded, that whatsoever hath not
yet been done, cannot therefore be done. Not
any one man, or nation, or age, but rather
mankind is it, which, in latitude of capacity,
answers to the universality of things to be
known.” In another passage, Hakewill ob¬
serves, that, “if we will speak properly and
punctually, antiquity rather consists in old age,
than in the infancy or youth of the world.” I
need scarcely add, that some of the foregoing
sentences are almost literal transcripts of Bacon’s
words.
The philosophical fame of Bacon in his own
country may be dated from the establishment of
the Royal Society of London; by the founders
of which, as appears from their colleague, Dr
Sprat, he was held in so high estimation, that
it was once proposed to prefix to the history of
their labours some of Bacon’s writings, as the
best comment on the views with which they
were undertaken. Sprat himself, and his illus¬
trious friend Cowley, were among the number
of Bacon’s earliest eulogists; the latter in an
Ode to the Royal Society, too well known to
require any notice here; the former in a very
splendid passage of his History, from which I
shall borrow a few sentences, as a conclusion
and ornament to this note.
“ For, is it not wonderful, that he who had
run through all the degrees of that profession,
which usually takes up men’s whole time; who
had studied, and practised, and governed the
common law; who had always lived in the
crowd, and borne the greatest burden of civil
business; should yet find leisure enough for
these retired studies, to excel all those men,
who separate themselves for this very purpose?
He was a man of strong, clear, and powerful
imaginations; his genius was searching and in¬
imitable ; and of this I need give no other proof
than his style itself; which as, for the most
part, it describes men’s minds, as well as pic- Notes
tures do their bodies, so it did his above all T11 f11*.
7 # # Illustrations.
men living. The course of it vigorous and ma-
jestical; the wit bold and familiar ; the compa¬
risons fetched out of the way, and yet the more
easy :1 In all expressing a soul equally skilled
in men and nature.”
Note G, p. 40.
The paradoxical bias of Hobbes’s understand¬
ing is never so conspicuous as when he engages
in physical or in mathematical discussions. On
such occasions, he expresses himself with even
more than his usual confidence and arrogance.
Of the Royal Society (the Virtuosi, as he calls
them, that meet at Gresham College) he writes
thus: “ Conveniant, studia conferant, experi-
menta faciant quantum volunt, nisi et principiis
utantur meis, nihil proficient.” And elsewhere:
“ Ad causas autem propter quas proficere ne
paullum quidem potuistis nec poteritis, acce-
dunt etiam alia, ut odium Hobbii, quia nimium
libere scripserat de aeademiis veritatem: Nam
ex eo tempore irati physici et mathematicl veri¬
tatem ab eo venientem non recepturos se palam
professi sunt.” In his English publications, he
indulges in a vein of coarse scurrility, of which
his own words alone can convey any idea.
“So go your ways,” says he, addressing him¬
self to Dr Wallis and Dr Seth Ward, two of
the most eminent mathematicians then in Eng¬
land, “ you uncivil ecclesiastics, inhuman di¬
vines, de-doctors of morality, unasinous col¬
leagues, egregious pair of Issachars, most
wretched indices and vindices academiarum ; and
remember Vespasian’s law, that it is unlawful to
give ill language first, but civil and lawful to re¬
turn it.,}
Note H. p. 42.
With respect to the Leviathan, a very curious
anecdote is mentioned by Lord Clarendon.
“ When I returned,” says he, “ from Spain by
Paris, Mr Hobbes frequently came to me, and
. 1 By the word easy, I presume Sprat here means the native and spontaneous growth of Bacon’s own fancy, in opposi¬
tion to the traditionary similes borrowed by common-place writers from their predecessors.
DISS. I. PART II. 2 H
242
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes told me that his hook, which he would call Le-
ustations v^at^oni was tkeu printing in England, and that
he received every week a sheet to correct; and
thought it would be finished within a little more
than a month. He added, that he knew when I
read the hook I would not like it; and there¬
upon mentioned some conclusions; upon which I
asked him why he would publish such doctrines;
to which, after a discourse between jest and ear¬
nest, he said, 4 The truth is, I have a mind to go
home.’ ” In another passage, the same writer ex¬
presses himself thus:—“ The review and con¬
clusion of the Leviathan is, in truth, a sly ad¬
dress to Cromwell, that, being out of the king¬
dom, and so being neither conquered nor his
subject, he might, by his return, submit to his
government, and be bound to obey it. This re¬
view and conclusion he made short enough to
hope that Cromwell might read it; where he
should not only receive the pawn of his new
subject’s allegiance, by declaring his own obli¬
gations and obedience; but by publishing such
doctrines as, being diligently infused by such a
master in the art of government, might secure
the people of the kingdom (over whom he had
no right to command) to acquiesce and submit
to his brutal power.”
That there is no exaggeration or misrepresen¬
tation of facts in these passages, with the view
of injuring the character of Hobbes, may be
confidently presumed from the very honourable
testimony which Clarendon bears, in another
part of the same work, to his moral as well as
intellectual merits. “ Mr Hobbes,” he observes,
is a man of excellent parts; of great wit; of
some reading; and of somewhat more thinking;
one who has spent many years in foreign parts
and observations; understands the learned as
well as modern languages; hath long had the
reputation of a great philosopher and mathema¬
tician; and in his age hath had conversation
with many worthy and extraordinary men. In
a word, he is one of the most ancient acquain¬
tance I have in the world, and of whom I have Note-
always had a great esteem, as a man, who, be- I]lu
sides his eminent learning and knowledge, hath
been always looked upon as a man of probity,
and of a life free from scandal.”
Note I, p. 58.
It is not easy to conceive how Descartes re¬
conciled, to his own satisfaction, his frequent
use of the word substance, as applied to the mind,
with his favourite doctrine, that the essence of
the mind consists in thought. Nothing can be
well imagined more unphilosophical than this
last doctrine, in whatever terms it is expressed;
but to designate by the name of substance, what
is also called thought, in the course of the same
argument, renders the absurdity still more gla¬
ring than it would otherwise have been.
I have alluded, in the text, to the difference
between the popular and the scholastic notion
of substance. According to the latter, the word
substance corresponds to the Greek word ouovcc, as
employed by Aristotle to denote the first of the
predicaments; in which technical sense it is
said, in the language of the schools, to signify
that which supports attributes, or which is sub¬
ject to accidents. At a period when every person
liberally educated was accustomed to this bar¬
barous jargon, it might not appear altogether
absurd to apply the term substance to the human
soul, or even to the Deity. But, in the present
times, a writer who so employs it may be as¬
sured, that, to a great majority of his readers, it
will be no less puzzling than it was to Crambe,
in Martinus Scriblerus, when he first heard it
thus defined by his master Cornelius.1 How
extraordinary does the following sentence now
sound even to a philosophical ear ? and yet it is
copied from a work published little more than
seventy years ago, by the learned and judicious
Gravesande: <{ Substantiae sunt aut cogitantes,
aut non cogitantes; cogitantes duas novimus,
' “ When he was told, a substance was that which was subject to accidents, then soldiers, quoth Crambe, are the most sub-
stantial people in the world.” Let me add, that, in the list of philosophical reformers, the authors of Martinus Scriblerus
ought not to be overlooked. Their happy ridicule of the scholastic Logic and Metaphysics is universally known; but few
are aware of the acuteness and sagacity displayed in their allusions to some of the most vulnerable passages in Locke’s
Essay. In this part of the work it is commonly understood that Arbuthnot had the principal share.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
243
Jtes Deum et mentem nostram. Duse etiam sub-
nd. stantise, quse non cogitant, nobis notse sunt,
in -mm- spat-um et corpUS.”—Introd. ad Phil. § 19.
The Greek word oiitr/a (derived from the parti¬
ciple of i‘^‘) is not liable to these objections. It
obtrudes no sensible image on the fancy; and,
in this respect, has a great advantage over the
Latin word substantia. The former, in its logical
acceptation, is an extension to Matter, of an idea
originally derived from Mind. The latter is an
extension to Mind of an idea originally derived
from Matter.
Instead of defining mind to be a thinking sub¬
stance, it seems much more logically correct to
define it a thinking being. Perhaps it would be
better still, to avoid, by the use of the pronoun
that, any substantive whatever, u Mind is that
which thinks, wills,” &c.
The foregoing remarks afford me an opportu¬
nity of exemplifying what I have elsewhere
observed concerning the effects which the scho¬
lastic philosophy has left on the present habits of
thinking, even of those who never cultivated that
branch of learning. In consequence of the stress
laid on the predicaments, men became accustom¬
ed in their youth to imagine, that in order to
know the nature of any thing, it was sufficient
to know under what predicament or category it
ought to be arranged; and that, till this was
done, it remained to our faculties a subject mere¬
ly of ignorant wonder. Hence the impotent
attempt to comprehend under some common
name (such as that of substance) the heterogene¬
ous existences of matter, of mind, and even of
empty space; and hence the endless disputes to
which the last of these words has given rise in
the Schools.
In our own times, Kant and his followers
seem to have thought, that they had thrown a
new and strong light on the nature of space and
also of time, when they introduced the word
form (forms of the intellect^ as a common term
applicable to both. Is not this to revert to the
scholastic folly of verbal generalization ? And
is it not evident, that of tilings which are unique
(such as matter, mind, space, time) no classifica¬
tion is practicable ? Indeed to speak of classi¬
fying what has nothing in common with any
thing else, is a contradiction in terms. It was Notes
thus that St Augustine felt, when he said, “ Quid illustrations
sit tempus, si nemo quoerat a me, scio ; si quis
interroget, nescio.” His idea evidently was,
that, although he annexed as clear and precise a
notion to the word time, as he could do to any ob¬
ject of human thought, he was unable to find
any term more general, under which it could be
comprehended; and, consequently, unable to
give any definition, by which it might be ex¬
plained.
Note K. p. 58.
“ Les Meditations de Descartes parurent en
1641. C’etoit, de tous ses ouvrages, celui qu’il
estimoit le plus. Ce qui characterise sur tout
cet ouvrage, c’est qu’il contient sa fame use de¬
monstration de Dieu par 1’idee, demonstration si
repetee depuis, adoptee par les unes, et rejettee
par les autres ; et qiiil est le premier ou la distinc¬
tion de Vesprit et de la mature soit parfaitement
developpee, car avant Descartes on n’avoit encore
bien approfondi les preuv'es philosophiques de la
spiritualite de 1’ame.”—Eloge de Descartes, par
M. Thomas. Note 20.
If the remarks in the text be correct, the cha-
racteristical merits of Descartes’ Meditations do
not consist in the novelty of the proofs contained
in them of the spirituality of the soul (on which
point Descartes has added little or nothing to
what had been advanced by his predecessors),
but in the clear and decisive arguments by which
they expose the absurdity of attempting to ex¬
plain the mental phenomena, by analogies bor¬
rowed from those of matter. Of this distinction,
neither Thomas, nor Turgot, nor D’Alembert,
nor Condorcet, seem to have been at all aware.
I quote from the last of these writers an ad¬
ditional proof of the confusion of ideas upon this
point, still prevalent among the most acute lo¬
gicians. “ Ainsi la spiritualite de lame, n’est
pas une opinion qui ait besoin de preuves, mais
le resultat simple et naturel d’un analyse exacte
de nos idees, et de nos facultes.”—(Vie de M.
Turgot.) Substitute for spirituality the word
immateriality, and the observation becomes equal¬
ly just and important.
244
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes Note L, p. 59.
and
istrations. ... „ , • tj.
The following extract from Descartes might
he easily mistaken for a passage in the Novum
Organon.
a Quoniam infantes nati sumus, et varia tie
rebus sensibilibus jndicia prius tulimus, quam
integrum nostrse rationis usum haberemus, mul-
tis prsejudiciis a veri cognitione avertimur, qui-
bus non aliter videmur posse liberari, quam si
semel in vita5 de iis omnibus studeamus dubitarej
in quibusvel mimmamincertitudinis suspicionem
reperiemus.
“ Quin et ilia etiam, de quibus dubitabimus,
utile erit habere pro falsis, ut tanto clarius, quid-
nam certissimum et cognitu facillimum sit, in-
veniamus.
“ Itaque ad serio philosophandum, veritatem-
que omnium rerum cognoscibilium inclagandam,
primo omnia prsejudicia sunt deponenda; sive
accurate est cavendum, ne ullis ex opinionibus
olim a nobis receptis fidem habeamus, nisi prius,
iis ad novum examen revocatis, veras esse com-
periamus.”—Pn'nc. Phil Pars Prima, §§ lii. lxxv\
Notwithstanding these and various other si¬
milar coincidences, it has been asserted with
some confidence, that Descartes had never read
the works of Bacon. <{ Quelques auteurs as-
surent que Descartes n’avoit point lu les ouvrages
de Bacon; et il nous dit lui-meme dans une de
ses letters, qu’il ne lut que fort tard les prin-
cipaux ouvrages de Galilee.”—[Eloge de Des¬
cartes, par Thomas.) Of the veracity of Des¬
cartes I have not the slightest doubt; and there¬
fore I consider this last fact (however extraor¬
dinary) as completely established by his own
testimony. But it would require more evidence
than the assertions of those nameless writers al¬
luded to by Thomas, to convince me that he had
never looked into an author, so highly extolled
as Bacon is, in the letters addressed to himself
by his illustrious antagonist, Gassendi. At any
rate, if this was actually the case, I cannot sub¬
scribe to the reflection subjoined to the fore¬
going quotation by his eloquent eulogist: <£ Si
cela est, il faut convenir, que la gloire de Des¬
cartes en est bien plus grande.”
Note M, p. 65. Notes
and
Mustratio
From the indissoluble union between the no-
tions of colour and extension, Dr Berkeley has
drawn a curious, and, in my opinion, most il¬
logical argument in favour of his scheme of ideal¬
ism ;—which, as it may throw some additional
light on the phenomena in question, I shall trans¬
cribe in his own words.
cc Perhaps, upon a strict inquiry, we shall,
not find, that even those who, from their birth,
have grown up in a continued habit of seeing,
are still irrevocably prejudiced on the other side,
to wit, in thinking what they see to be at a dis¬
tance from them. For, at this time, it seems
agreed on all hands, that colours, which are the
proper and immediate objects of sight, are not
without the mind. But then, it will be said, by
sight we have also the ideas of extension, and
figure, and motion; all which may well he
thought without, and at some distance from the
mind, though colour should not. In answer to
this, I appeal to any man’s experience, whether
the visible extension of any object doth not ap¬
pear as near to him as the colour of that object;
nay, whether they do not both seem to be in the
same place. Is not the extension we see co¬
loured ; and is it possible for us, so much as
in thought, to separate and abstract colour from
extension ? Now, where the extension is, there
surely is the figure, and there the motion too.
I speak of those which are perceived by sight.”1
Among the multitude of arguments advanced
by Berkeley, in support of his favourite theory,
I do not recollect any that strikes me more with
the appearance of a wilful sophism than the
foregoing. It is difficult to conceive how so
very acute a reasoner should not have perceived
that his premises, in this instance, lead to a con¬
clusion directly opposite to what he has drawn
from them. Supposing all mankind to have an
irresistible conviction of the outness and distance
of extension and figure, it is very easy to explain,
from the association of ideas, and from our early
habits of inattention to the phenomena of con¬
sciousness, how the sensations of colour should
appear to the imagination to be transported
1 Essay toward a New Theory of Vision, p. 255.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
245
Jotes
and
I] trations,
V
out of the mind. But if, according to Berkeley’s
doctrines, the constitution of human nature
leads men to believe that extension and figure,
and every other quality of the material universe,
exists only within themselves, whence the ideas
of external and of internal; of remote or of near ?
When Berkeley says, f‘ I appeal to any man’s
experience, whether the visible extension of any
object doth not appear as near to him as the
colour of that objecthow much more reason¬
able would it have been to have stated the in¬
disputable fact, that the colour of the object ap¬
pears as remote as its extension and figure ? No¬
thing, in my opinion, can afford a more conclu¬
sive proof, that the natural judgment of the
mind is against the inference just quoted from
Berkeley, than the problem of D’Alembert,
which has given occasion to this discussion.
Note N, p. 68.
It is observed by Dr Reid, that “ the system
which is now generally received with regard to
the mind and its operations, derives not only its
spirit from Descartes, but its fundamental prin¬
ciples; and that, after all the improvements
made by Malebranche, Locke, Berkeley, and
Hume, it may still be called the Cartesian sys¬
tem.”—Conclusion of the Inquiry into the Human
Mind.
The part of the Cartesian system here alluded
to is the hypothesis, that the communication be¬
tween the mind and external objects is carried
on by means of ideas or images ;—not, indeed,
transmitted from without (as the Aristotelians
supposed) through the channel of the senses,
but nevertheless bearing a relation to the quali¬
ties perceived, analogous to that of an impres¬
sion on wax to the seal by which it was stamp¬
ed. In this last assumption, Aristotle and Des¬
cartes agreed perfectly; and the chief differ¬
ence between them was, that Descartes palliat¬
ed, or rather kept out of view, the more obvious
absurdities of the old theory, by rejecting the
unintelligible supposition of intentional species,
and by substituting, instead of the word image,
the more indefinite and ambiguous word idea.
But there was another and very important
step made by Descartes, in restricting the ideal
Theory to the primary qualities of matter; its Notes
secondary qualities (of colour, sound, smell, I]lus^tions^
taste, heat, and cold) having, according to him,
no more resemblance to the sensations by means
of which they are perceived, than arbitrary
sounds have to the things they denote, or the
edge of a sword to the pain it may occasion.
{Princ. Pars iv. §§ 197, 198.) To this doc¬
trine he frequently recurs in other parts of his
works.
In these modifications of the Aristotelian
Theory of Perception, Locke acquiesced entire¬
ly; explicitly asserting, that “ the ideas of pri¬
mary qualities are resemblances of them, but
that the ideas of secondary qualities have no re¬
semblance to them at all.” —Essay, B. ii. c.
viii. § 15.
When pressed by Gassendi to explain how
images of extension and figure can exist in an
unextended mind, Descartes expresses himself
thus: ct Quseris quomodo existimem in me sub¬
ject© inextenso recipi posse speciem ideamve
corporis quod extensum est. Respondeo nullum
speciem corpoream in mente recipi, sed puram
intellectionem tarn rei corporese quam incorpo-
reee fieri absque ulla specie corporeae ; ad ima-
ginationem vero, quae non nisi de rebus corpo-
reis esse potest, opus quidem esse specie quae
sit verum corpus, et ad quam mens se applicet,
sed non quae in mente recipiatur.” Responsio
de Us quce in sextam Meditationem objecta
sunt, § 4.
In this reply it is manifestly assumed as an
indisputable principle, that the immediate ob¬
jects of our thoughts, when we imagine or con¬
ceive the primary qualities of extension and
figure, are ideas or species of these qualities;
and, of consequence, are themselves extended
and figured. Had it only occurred to him to
apply (mutatis mutandis) to the perception of
primary qualities, his own account of the per¬
ception of secondary qualities (that it is obtain¬
ed, to wit, by the media of sensations more ana¬
logous to arbitrary signs, than to stamps or
pictures), he might have eluded the difficulty
started by Gassendi, without being reduced to
the disagreeable necessity of supposing his ideas
or images to exist in the brain, and not in the
mind. The language of Mr Locke, it is ob-
246
PRELIMINARY DISSETATIONS.
Notes servable, sometimes implies the one of these
Illustrations, hypotheses, and sometimes the other.
It was plainly with the view of escaping from
the dilemma proposed hy Gassendi to Descartes,
that Newton and Clarke were led to adopt a
mode of speaking concerning perception, ap¬
proaching very nearly to the language of Des¬
cartes. 44 Is not,” says Newton, 44 the senso-
rium of animals the place where the sentient
substance is present; and to which the sensible
species of things are brought, through the nerves
and brain, that there they may be perceived by
the mu\(X present in that place f And still more
confidently Dr Clarke: 44 Without being pre¬
sent to the images of the things perceived, the
soul could not possibly perceive them. A liv¬
ing substance can only there perceive where it
is present. Nothing can any more act or be
acted upon where it is not present, than it can
when it is not.” The distinction between pri¬
mary and secondary qualities was afterwards re¬
jected by Berkeley, in the course of his argu¬
ment against the existence of matter; but he
continued to retain the language of Descartes
concerning ideas, and to consider them as the
immediate, or rather as the only objects of our
thoughts, wherever the external senses are con¬
cerned. Mr Hume’s notions and expressions
on the subjectr are very nearly the same.
I thought it necessary to enter into these
details, in order to show with what limitations
the remark quoted from Dr Reid in the be¬
ginning of this note ought to be received. It
is certainly true, that the Cartesian system may
be said to form the groundwork of Locke’s
Theory of Perception, as well as of the scepti¬
cal conclusions deduced from it by Berkeley
and Hume; but it is not the less true, that it
forms also the groundwork of all that has since
been done towards the substitution, in place of
this scepticism, of a more solid fabric of meta¬
physical science.
Note O, p. 69.
After the pains taken by Descartes to ascer¬
tain the seat of the soul, it is surprising to find
one of the most learned English divines of the
seventeenth century (Dr Henry More) accusing Notes
him as an abettor of the dangerous heresy of jjj and,
nullibism. Of this heresy Dr More represents
Descartes as the chief author; and, at the same
time, speaks of it as so completely extravagant,
that he is at a loss whether to treat it as the se¬
rious opinion of the philosopher, or as the jest of
a buffoon. 44 The chief author and leader of
the Nullibists,” he tells us, 44 seems to have
been that pleasant wit, Henatus Descartes, who,
by his jocular metaphysical meditations, has
luxated and distorted the rational faculties of
some otherwise sober and quick-witted persons.”
To those who are at all acquainted with the phi¬
losophy of Descartes, it is unnecessary to ob¬
serve, that, so far from being a Nullibist, he
valued himself not a little on having fixed the
precise ubi of the soul, with a degree of accu¬
racy unthought of by any of his predecessors.
As he held, however, that the soul was unextend¬
ed, and as More happened to conceive that no¬
thing which was unextended could have any re¬
ference to place, he seems to have thought him¬
self entitled to impute to Descartes, in direct
opposition to his own words, the latter of these
opinions as well as the former. 44 The true no¬
tion of a spirit,” according to More, 44 is that
of an extended penetrable substance, logically
and intellectually divisible, but not physically
discernible into parts.”
Whoever has the curiosity to look into the
works of this once admired, and, in truth, very
able logician, will easily discover that his alarm
at the philosophy of Descartes was really occa¬
sioned, not by the scheme of nullibism, but by
the Cartesian doctrine of the non-extension of
mind, which More thought inconsistent with a
fundamental article in his own creed—the ex¬
istence of witches and apparitions. To hint at
any doubt about either, or even to hold any
opinion that seemed to weaken their credibility,
appeared to this excellent person quite a suffi¬
cient proof of complete atheism. f
< The observations of More on 44 the true no¬
tion of a spirit” (extracted from his Enchiridion
Ethicum) were afterwards republished in Glan-
ville’s book upon witchcraft;—a work (as I be¬
fore mentioned) proceeding from the same pen
DISSERTATION FIRST.
247
Notes with the Scepsis Scientijica, one of the most
and. acute and original productions of which English
1 philosophy had then to boast.
If some of the foregoing particulars should, at
first sight, appear unworthy of attention in a
historical sketch of the progress of science, I
must beg leave to remind my readers, that they
belong to a history of still higher importance
and dignity—that of the progress of Reason,
and of the Human Mind.
Note P, p. *70.
For an interesting sketch of the chief events
in the life of Descartes, see the Notes annexed
to his Eloge by Thomas; where also is to be
found a very pleasing and lively portrait of his
moral qualities. As for the distinguishing me¬
rits of the Cartesian philosophy, and more par¬
ticularly of the Cartesian metaphysics, it was a
subject peculiarly ill adapted to the pen of this
amiable and eloquent, but verbose and decla¬
matory academician.
I am doubtful, too, if Thomas has not gone
too far, in the following passage, on a subject
of which he was much more competent to judge
than of some others which he has ventured to
discuss. c< L’imagination brillante de Descartes
se decele partout dans ses ouvrages; et s’il
n’avoit voulu etre ni geometre ni philosophe, il
n’auroit tenu qu’a lui d’etre le plus bel esprit
de son temps.” Whatever opinion may be
formed on this last assertion, it will not be dis¬
puted by those who have studied Descartes, that
his phibsophical style is remarkably dry, con¬
cise, and severe. Its great merit lies in its sin¬
gular precision and perspicuity;—a perspicuity,
however, which does not dispense with a mo¬
ment’s relaxation in the reader’s attention; the
author seldom repeating his remarks, and hard¬
ly ever attempting to illustrate or to enforce
them either by reasoning or by examples. In
all these respects, his style forms a complete
contrast to that of Bacon’s.
» In Descartes’ epistolary compositions, indeed,
ample evidences are to be found of his vivacity
and fancy, as well as of his classical taste. One Notes
of the most remarkable is a letter addressed to T„ and.
. i . -i i • t • illustrations.
Balzac, m which he gives his reasons for prefer-
ring Holland to all other countries, not only as
a tranquil, but as an agreeable residence for a
philosopher; and enters into some very enga¬
ging details concerning his own petty habits.
The praise bestowed on this letter by Thomas
is by no means extravagant, when he compares
it to the best of Balzac’s. “ Je ne s^ais s’il y a
rien dans tout Balzac ou il y ait autant d’esprit
et d’agrement.”
Note Q, p. 73.
It is an error common to by far the greater
number of modern metaphysicians, to suppose
that there is no medium between the innate
ideas of Descartes, and the opposite theory of
Gassendi. In a very ingenious and learned es¬
say on Philosophical Prejudices, by M. Trem-
bley,1 I find the following sentence:—££ Mais
I’experience dement ce systems des idees innees,
puisque la privation d’un sens emporte avec elle
la privation des idees attachees a ce sens, comme
l’a remarque I’illustre auteur de VEssai Analy-
tique sur les Facultes de V Ame.”
What are we to understand by the remark
here ascribed to Mr Bonnet? Does it mean
nothing more than this, that to a person born
blind, no instruction can convey an idea of co¬
lours, nor to a person born deaf, of sounds ? A
remark of this sort surely did not need to be
sanctioned by the united names of Bonnet and
of Trembley: Nor, indeed, does it bear in the
slightest degree on the point in dispute. The
question is not about our ideas of the material
world, but about those ideas on metaphysical and
moral subjects, which may be equally imparted to
the blind and to the deaf; enabling them to arrive
at the knowledge of the same truths, and exciting
in their minds the same moral emotions. The signs
employed in the reasonings of these two classes
of persons will of course excite by association,
in their respective fancies, very different mate¬
rial images; but whence the origin of the phy-
1 Essai sur les Prejiiges, &c. Neuchatel, 1790.
248
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes sical and moral notions of which these signs are
Illustrations. vehicle, and for suggesting which, all sets
of signs seem to he equally fitted ? The asto¬
nishing scientific attainments of many persons,
blind from their birth, and the progress lately
made in the instruction of the deaf, furnish pal¬
pable and incontestible proofs of the flimsiness of
this article of the Epicurean philosophy;—so com¬
pletely verified is now the original and profound
conclusion long ago formed by Dalgarno, <£ That
the soul can exert her powers by the ministry
of any of the senses: And, therefore, when she
is deprived of her principal secretaries, the eye
and the ear, then she must be contented with
the service of her lackeys and scullions, the
other senses; which are no less true and faithful
to their mistress than the eye and the ear; but
not so quick for dispatch.”—(Didascalocophus,
&c. Oxford, 1680.)
I was once in hopes of being able to throw a
still stronger light on the subject of this note,
by attempting to ascertain experimentally the
possibility of awakening and cultivating the dor¬
mant powers of a boy destitute of the organs
both of sight and of hearing; but unexpected
occurrences have disappointed my expectations.
I have just learned, that a case somewhat si¬
milar, though not quite so favourable in all its
circumstances, has recently occurred in the state
of Connecticut in New England; and I have the
satisfaction to add, there is some probability that
so rare an opportunity for philosophical observa¬
tions and experiments will not be overlooked in
that quarter of the world.
Note R, p. 74.
Of Gassendi’s orthodoxy as a Roman Catholic
divine, he has left a very curious memorial, in
an inaugural discourse pronounced in 1645, be¬
fore Cardinal Richelieu, when he entered on the
duties of his office as Regius Professor of Ma¬
thematics at Paris. The great object of the ora¬
tion is to apologise to his auditors for his having
abandoned his ecclesiastical functions, to teach
and cultivate the profane science of geometry.
With this view, he proposes to explain and il¬
lustrate the saying of Plato, who, being ques¬
tioned about the employment of the Supreme
Being, answered rbv dsbv. In the prose- Notes
cution of this argument, he expresses himself
thus on the doctrine of the Trinity.
<£ Anne proinde hoc adorandum Trinitatis
mysterium habebimus rursus ut sphseram, cujus
quasi centrum sit Pater JEternus, qui totius di-
vinitatis fons, origo, principium accommodate
dicitur; circumferentia Filius, in quo legitur
habitare plenitude Divinitatis; et radii centre
circumferentiseque intercedentes Spiritus Sanc-
tus, qui est Patris et Filii nexus, vinculumque
mutuum ? Anne potius dicendum est eminere
in hoc mysterio quicquid sublime magnificumque
humana geometria etiamnum requirit ? Perce-
lebre est latere earn adhuc, quam quadraturam
circuli vocant; atque idcirco in eo esse, ut de-
scribat triangulum, cujus si basin ostenderit cir¬
culi ambitui aequalem, turn demum esse circulo
triangulum aequale demonstrat. At in hoc mys¬
terio augustissimo gloriosissima Personarum
Trias ita infinitse essentise, ipsiusque foecundi-
tati, tanquam circulo exaequatur, seu, ut sic lo-
quar, et verius quidem, penitus identificatur;
ut cum sit omnium, et cuj usque una, atque
eadem essentia, una proinde ac eadem sit im-
mensitas, aeternitas, et perfectionum plenitudo.
££ Sic, cum nondum norit humana geometria
trisecare angulum, dividereve, et citra accommo-
dationem mechanicam, ostendere divisum esse
in tria aequalia; habemus in hocce mysterio unam
essentiam non tam trisectam, quam integram
communicatam in tria aequalia supposita, quae
cum simul, sigillatimque totam individuamque
possideant, sint inter se tamen realiter distincta.”
The rest of the oration is composed in exactly
the same taste.
The following interesting particulars of Gas¬
sendi’s death are recorded by Sorbiere.
££ Extremam tamen horam imminentem sen-
tiens, quod reliquum erat virium impendendum
existimavit praeparando ad mortem animo.
Itaque significant, ut quamprimum vocaretur
Sacerdos, in cujus aurem, dum fari poterat,
peccata sua effunderet..   Dein, ut
nihil perfectae Christian! militis armaturse deesset,
sacro inungi oleo efflagitavit. Ad quam caere-
moniam animo attendens, cum sacerdos aures
inungens pronuntiaret verba solennia, et lapsu
quodam memoriae dixisset, Indulgent tibi Dominus
DISSERTATION FIRST.
249
srotes quidquid per odoratum peccasti, reposuit statim
and. zeger, imo per auditum ; adeo intentus erat rei
1 -v^ gravissimae, et eluendarum sordium vel mini-
marum cupidum se et sitibundum gerebat.”
Sorbeeii Prcefatio.
Having mentioned in tbe text the avowed
partiality of Gassendi for the Epicurean ethics,
it is but justice to his memory to add, that his
own habits were, in every respect, the reverse of
those commonly imputed to this school. “ Ad
privatam Gassendi vitam saepius attendens,”
says Sorbiere, “ anachoretam aliquem cernere
mihi videor, qui media in urbe vitam instituit
plane ad monachi severioris normam ; adeo pau-
pertatem, castitatem et obedientiam coluit; quan-
quam sine ullo voto tria ista vota solvisse videa-
tur. Abstemius erat sponte sua, ptisanam
tepidam bibens pulmoni refrigerando humectan-
doque. Carne raro, herbis ssepius, ac macerata
offa mane et vespere utebatur.”—Ibid.
Note S, p. 105.
It deserves to be remarked, as a circumstance
which throws considerable light on the literary
history of Scotland during the latter half of the
eighteenth century, that, from time immemorial,
a continued intercourse had been kept up be¬
tween Scotland and the Continent. To all who
were destined for the profession of law, an edu¬
cation either at a Dutch or French university
was considered as almost essential. The case
was nearly the same in the profession of physic;
and, even among the Scottish clergy, I have
conversed, in my youth, with some old men who
had studied theology in Holland or in Germany.
Of our smaller country gentlemen, resident on
their own estates (an order of men which, from
various causes, has now, alas ! totally vanished),
there was scarcely one who had not enjoyed the Notes
benefit of a university education; and very few illustrations
of those who could afford the expence of foreign
travel, who had not visited France and Italy.
Lord Monboddo somewhere mentions, to the
honour of his father, that he sold part of his
estate to enable himself (his eldest son) to pursue
his studies at the University of Groningen.
The constant influx of information and of libera¬
lity from abroad, which was thus kept up in
Scotland in consequence of the ancient habits
and manners of the people, may help to account
for the sudden burst of genius, which to a
foreigner must seem to have sprung up in this
country by a sort of enchantment, soon after the
Rebellion of 1745. The great step made
was in the art of English composition. In the
mathematical sciences, where the graces of writ¬
ing have no place, Scotland, in proportion to the
number of its inhabitants, was never, from the
time of Neper, left behind by any country in
Europe; nor ought it to be forgotten, that the
philosophy of Newton was publicly taught by
David Gregory at Edinburgh, and by his brother
James Gregory at St Andrew’s, before it was able
to supplant the vortices of Descartes in that
very university of which Newton was a member.1
The case was similar in every other liberal pur¬
suit, where an ignorance of the delicacies of the
English tongue was not an insuperable bar to
distinction. Even in the study of eloquence, as
far as it was attainable in their own vernacular
idiom, some of the Scottish pleaders, about the
era when the two kingdoms were united, seem
ambitiously, and not altogether unsuccessfully,
to have formed themselves upon models, which,
in modern times, it has been commonly suppos¬
ed to be more safe to admire than to imitate.3
Of the progress made in this part of the island
1 For this we have the authority of Whiston, the immediate successor of Sir Isaac Newton in the Lucasian Professorship
at Cambridge; and of Dr Reid, who was a nephew of the two Gregorys. “ Mr Gregory had already caused several of his
scholars to keep Acts, as we call them, upon several branches of the Newtonian Philosophy ; while we at Cambridge, poor
wretches, were ignominiously studying the fictitious hypotheses of the Cartesians.”—(Whiston s Memoirs of his own Life.)
“ I have by me,”says Dr Reid, “a Thesis printed at F.dinburgh, 1690, by James Gregory, who was at that time Pro¬
fessor of Philosophy at St Andrew’s, containing twenty-five positions; the first three relating to logic, and the abuse of it in
the Aristotelian and Cartesian philosophy. The remaining twenty-two positions area compend of Newton’s Principia.
This Thesis, as was the custom at that time in the Scottish Universities, was to be defended in a public disputation, by the
candidates, previous to their taking their degree.” (Hutton’s Mathematical Dictionary.—Supplement X>y Dh. Reid to the
article Gregory.
1 See a splendid eulogium in the Latin language, by Sir George Mackenzie, on the most distinguished pleaders of his
time at the Scottish bar. Every allowance being made for the flattering touches of a friendly hand, his portraits can
scarcely be supposed not to have borne a strong and characteristical resemblance to the originals from which they were copied.
DISS. I. PART II. ^ I
250
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes in Metaphysical and Ethical Studies, at a period
Illustrations. prior to that which is commonly considered
as the commencement of our literary history, I
shall afterwards have occasion to speak. At
present, I shall only observe, that it was in the
Scottish universities that the philosophy of
Locke, as well as that of Newton, was first
adopted as a branch of academical education.
Note T, p. 107.
Extract of a letter from M. Allamand to Mr
Gibbon.—(See Gibbon’s Miscellaneous Works.)
“ Vous avez sans doute raison de dire que les
propositions evidentes dont il s’agit, ne sont pas
de simples idees, mais des jugemens. Mais ayez
aussi la complaisance de reconnoitre que M.
Locke les alleguant en exemple d’idees qui
passent pour innees, et qui ne le sont pas selon
lui, s’il y a ici de la meprise, c’est lui qu’il faut
relever la-dessus, et non pas moi, qui n’avois
autre chose a faire qu’a refuter sa maniere de
raisonner centre Tinneite de ces idees ou juge¬
mens la. D’ailleurs, Monsieur, vous remarquerez,
s’il vous plait, que dans cette dispute il s’agit en
effet, de savoir si certaines verites evidentes et
communes, et non pas seulement certaines idees
simples, sont innees ou non. Ceux qui affirment,
ne donnent guere pour exemple d’idees simples
qui le soyent, que celles de Dieu, de 1’unite, et
de 1’existence; les autres exemples sont pris de
propositions completes, que vous appellez j uge-
mens.
“ Mais, dites vous, y aura-t-il done des juge¬
mens innes? Le jugement est il autre chose
qu’un acte de nos facultes intellectuelles dans la
comparison des idees ? Le j ugement sur les
verites evidentes, n’est il pas une simple vue de
ces verites la, un simple coup d’oeil que 1’esprit
jette sur elles ? J’accorde tout cela. Et de grace,
qu’est ce qu! idee ? West ce pas vue, ou coup d’ceil,
si vous voulez ? Ceux qui definissent 1’idee autre-
ment, ne s’eloignent-ils pas visiblement du sens
et de 1’intention du mot ? Dire que les idees
sont les especes des chosesimprimees dans 1’esprit,
comme I’image de 1’ohjet sensible est tracee dans
I’oeil, n’est ce pas jargonner plutot que definir ?
Or c’est la faute, qu’ont fait tous les metaphy- Notes
siciens, et quoique M. Locke 1’ait hien sentie, ilT„ and
• •//•■■ . a_ i% Ulustratic
a mieux aime se tacher centre eux, et tirer contre
les girouettes de la place, que s’appliquer a
demeler ce galimatias. Que n’a-t-il dit, non
seulement il n’y a point d’idees innees dans le
sens de ces Messieurs; mais il n’y a point (Tidees
du tout dans ce sens Id ; toute idee est un acte, une
vue, un coup d’ceil de Vesprit. Des lors demander
s’il y a des idees innees, c’est demander s’il y a
certaines verites si evidentes et si communes que
tout esprit non stupide puisse naturellement, sans
culture et sans maitre, sans discussion, sans
raisonnement, les reconnoitre d’un coup d’oeil,
et souvent meme sans s’apper^evoir qu’on jette
ce coup d’oeil. L’affirmative me paroit incon¬
testable, et selon moi, la question est vuidee par la.
“ Maintenant prenez garde, Monsieur, que
cette maniere d’entendre 1’atfaire, va au hut des
partisans des idees innees, tout comme la leur;
et par la meme contredit M. Locke dans le sien.
Car pourquoi voudroit on qu’il y a eu des idees
innees ? C’est pour en opposer la certitude et
1’evidence au doute universel des sceptiques, qui
est ruine d’un seul coup, s’il y a des verites dont
la vue soit necessaire et naturelle a 1’homme.
Or vous sentez, Monsieur, que je puis leur dire
cela dans ma fa^on d’expliquer la chose, tout
aussi hien que les partisans ordinaires des idecs
innees dans la leur. Et voila ce que semble
incommoder un peu M. Locke, qui, sans se
declarer Pyrrhonien, laisse apper^evoir un peu
trop de foible pour le Pyrrhonisme, et a heaucoup
contrihue a le nourrir dans ce siecle. A force
de vouloir marquer les homes de nos connois-
sances, ce qui etoit fort necessaire, il a quelque-
fois tout mis en homes.”
Note U, p. 108.
“ A decisive proof of this is afforded by the
allusions to Locke’s doctrines in the dramatic
pieces then in possession of the French stage,” &c.
In acomedy ofDestouches (entitled Fbwsse
Agnes), which must have been written long be¬
fore the period in question,1 the heroine, a live¬
ly and accomplished girl, supposed to be just
1 This little piece was first published in 1757, three years after the author’s death, which took place in 1754, in the se¬
venty-fourth year of his age. But we are told by D’Alembert, that from the age of sixty, he had renounced, from senti-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
251
\Totes arrived from Paris at lier father’^ house in Poi-
trations ^ou’ introduced as first assuming the appear-
v ance of imbecility, in order to get rid of a dis¬
agreeable lover; and, afterwards, as pleading
her own cause in a mock trial before an absurd
old president and two provincial ladies, to convince
them that she is in reality not out of her senses.
In the course of her argument on this subject,
she endeavours to astonish her judges by an
ironical display of her philosophical knowledge ;
warning them of the extreme difficulty and nicety
of the question upon which they were about to
pronounce. “ Vous voulez juger de moi! mais,
pour juger sainement, il faut une grande eten-
due de connoissances; encore est il bien dou-
teux qu’il y en ait de certaines Avant
done que vous entrepreniez de prononcer sur mon
sujet, je demande pre^lablement que vous exa-
miniez avec moi nos connoissances en general,
les degres de ces connoissances, leur etendue,
leur realite; que nous convenions de ce que e’est
que la verite, et si la verite se trouve effective-
ment. Apres quoi nous traiterons des proposi¬
tions universelles, des maximes, des proposi¬
tions frivoles, et de la foiblesse, ou de la solidite
de nos lumieres Quelque personnes
tiennent pour verite, que fhomme nait avec cer¬
tains principes inees, certaines notions primitives,
certains caracteres qui sont comme graves dans
son esprit, des le premier instant de son exist¬
ence. Pour moi, j’ai longtemps examine ce
sentiment, et j’entreprends de la comhattre, de
le refuter, de I’aneantir, si vous avez la patience
de Hl,ecouter.,, I have transcribed but a part
of this curious pleading; but, I presume, more
than enough to show, that every sentence, and
almost every word of it, refers to Locke’s doc¬
trines. In the second and third sentences, the
titles of the principal chapters in the fourth hook
of his Essay are exactly copied. It was impos¬
sible that such a scene should have produced the
slightest comic effect, unless the hook alluded
to had been in very general circulation among
the higher orders; I might perhaps add, in much
'more general circulation than it ever obtained
among that class of readers in England. At no Notes
period, certainly, since it was first published mirations
(such is the difference of national manners),
could similar allusions have been made to it, or
to any other work on so abstract a subject, with
the slightest hope of success on the London stage.
And yet D’Alembert pronounces La Fausse
Agnes to be apiece, pleine de mouvement et de gaiete.
Note X, p. 110.
tc Descartes asserted,” says a very zealous
Lockist, M. de Voltaire, “ that the soul, at its
coming into the body, is informed with the
whole series of metaphysical notions; knowing
God, infinite space, possessing all abstract ideas;
in a word, completely endued with the most su¬
blime lights, which it unhappily forgets at its
issuing from the womb.
“ With regard to myself,” continues the same
writer, “ I am as little inclined as Locke could be,
to fancy that, some weeks after I was conceived,
I was a very learned soul; knowing at that time
a thousand things which I forgot at my birth ;
and possessing, when in the womb (though to no
manner of purpose), knowledge which I lost the
instant I had occasion for it; and which I have
never since been able to recover perfectly.”—
Letters concerning the English Nation. Letter 13.
Whatever inferences may be deducible from
some of Descartes’s expressions, or from the
comments on these expressions by some who as¬
sumed the title of Cartesians, I never can per¬
suade myself, that the system of innate ideas, as
conceived and adopted by him, was meant to
give any sanction to the absurdities here treated
by Voltaire with such just contempt. In no
part of Descartes’s works, as far as I have been
able to discover, is the slightest ground given
for this extraordinary account of his opinions.
Nor was Descartes the first person who intro¬
duced this language. Long before the date of
his works, it was in common use in England ;
and is to be found in a Poem of Sir John Davis,
published four years before Descartes was born.
ments of piety, all thoughts of writing for the stage (Eloge de Destouches.) This carries the date of all his dramatic
works, at least as far back as 1740. As for Destouches’s own familiarity with the writings of Locke, it is easily accounted
for by his residence in England from 1717 to 1723, where he remained, for some time after the departure of Cardinal Du¬
bois, as Charge d'Affaires. Yoltaire did not visit England till 1727*
252
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes (See Sect. XXVI. of The Immortality of the
T11 and. Soul) The title of this Section expressly.as-
Illustrations. y • .r j
serts, That there are innate ideas in the soul.
In one of Descartes’s letters, he enters into
some explanations with respect to this part of
his philosophy, which he complains had been
very grossly misunderstood or misrepresented.
To the following passage I have no doubt that
Locke himself would have subscribed. It strikes
myself as so very remarkable, that, in order to
attract to it the attention of my readers, I shall
submit it to their consideration in an English
translation.
“ When I said that the idea of God is innate
in us, I never meant more than this, that Na¬
ture has endowed us with a faculty by which we
may know God; hut I have never either said
or thought, that such ideas had an actual exist¬
ence, or even that they were species distinct from
the faculty of thinking. I will even go farther,
and assert that nobody has kept at a greater dis¬
tance than myself from all this trash of scholas¬
tic entities, insomuch that I could not help smil¬
ing when I read the numerous arguments which
Regius has so industriously collected to show
that infants have no actual knowledge of God
while they remain in the womb. Although the
idea of God is so imprinted on our minds, that
every person has within himself the faculty of
knowing him, it does not follow that there may
not have been various individuals who have
passed through life without ever making this
idea a distinct object of apprehension; and, in
truth, they who think they have an idea of a
plurality of Gods, have no idea of God what¬
soever.”—(Cartesii, Epist. Pars I. Epist.
xcix.)
After reading this passage from Descartes,
may I request of my readers to look back to the
extracts in the beginning of this note, from Vol¬
taire’s letters ? A remark of Montesquieu, oc¬
casioned by some strictures hazarded by this
lively but very superficial philosopher on the
Spirit of Laws, is more peculiarly applicable to
him when he ventures to pronounce judgment
on metaphysical writers: “ Quant a Voltaire,
il a trap d’esprit pour m'entendre ; tons les livres
qu’il lit, il les fait, apres quoi il approuve ou
critique ce qu’il a fait.”—(Lettre d M. VAbbe de
Guasco.) The remark is applicable to other Notes
critics as well as to Voltaire. and
The prevailing misapprehensions with respect
to this, and some other principles of the Carte¬
sian metaphysics, can only be accounted for by
supposing, that the opinions of Descartes have
been more frequently j udged of from the glosses
of his followers, than from his own works. It
seems to have never been sufficiently known to
his adversaries, either in France or in England,
that, after his philosophy had become fashion¬
able in Holland, a number of Dutch divines,
whose opinions differed very widely from his,
found it convenient to shelter their own errors
under his established name; and that some of
them went so far as to avail themselves of his
authority in propagating tenets directly oppo¬
site to his declared sentiments. Hence a dis¬
tinction of the Cartesians into the genuine and
the josewefo-Cartesians; and hence an inconsis¬
tency in their representations of the metaphysi¬
cal ideas of their master, which can only be
cleared up by a reference (seldom thought of)
to his own very concise and perspicuous text.
(Fabricii Bib. Gr. lib. iii. cap. vi. p. 183.
Heinecc. El. Hist. Phil. § cx.)
Many of the objections commonly urged against
the innate ideas of Descartes are much more ap¬
plicable to the innate ideas of Leibnitz, whose
language concerning them is infinitely more
hypothetical and unphilosophical; and some¬
times approaches nearly to the enthusiastic theo¬
logy of Plato and of Cudworth. Nothing in
the works of Descartes bears any resemblance,
in point of extravagance, to what follows: “ Pul-
cherrima multa sunt Platonis dogmata, esse
in divina mente mundum intelligibilem, quem
ego quoque vocare soleo regionem idearum; ob-
jectum sapientiee esse rd ovrug ovra, suhstantias
nempe simplices, quse a me monades appellantur,
et semel existentes semper perstant, ffgwra fcxnxa
rng id est, Deum et Animas, et harum po-
tissimas mentes, producta a Deo simulacra divi-
nitatis Porro quae vis mens, ut recte Plotinus,
quendam in se mundum intelligibilem continet)
imo mea sententia et hunc ipsum sensibilem sibi
repraesentat Sunt in nobis semina eorum, quae
discimus, ideae nempe, et quae inde nascuntur,
aeternae veritates ...Longe ergo praeferendae
DISSERTATION FIRST.
253
)tes gunt Platonis notitia innatoe, quas reminiscentioB
,d nomine velavit, tabulse rasae Aristotelis et Lockii,
aliorumque recentiorum, qui sgwrcg/xws pliiloso-
phantur.”—(Leib. Opera, Tom. II. p. 223.)
Wild and visionary, however, as the forego¬
ing propositions are, if the names of Gassendi
and of Hohhes had been substituted instead of
those of Aristotle and of Locke, I should have
been disposed to subscribe implicitly to the
judgment pronounced in the concluding sen¬
tence. The metaphysics of Plato, along with a
considerable alloy of poetical fiction, has at least
the merit of containing a large admixture of im¬
portant and of ennobling truth; while that of
Gassendi and of Hobbes, besides its inconsis¬
tency with facts attested, every moment, by our
own consciousness, tends directly to level the
rational faculties of man with the instincts of
the brutes.
In the Acta Eruditorum for the year 1684,
Leibnitz observes, that “ in the case of things
which we have never thought of, the innate ideas
in our minds may be compared to the figure of
Hercules in a block of marble.” This seems to
me to prove, that the difference between him
and Locke was rather in appearance than in
reality; and that, although he called those ideas
innate which Locke was at pains to trace to sen¬
sation or to reflection, he would have readily
granted, that our first knowledge of their exis¬
tence was coeval with the first impressions made
on our senses by external objects. That this
was also the opinion of Descartes is still more
evident, notwithstanding the ludicrous point of
view in which Voltaire has attempted to exhibit
this part of his system.
Note Y, p. 111.
Mr Locke seems to have considered this use
of the word reflection as peculiar to himself; but
it is perfectly analogous to the xiviifcig xux/Jxa/ of
the Greek philosophers, and to various expres¬
sions which occur in the works of John Smith
of Cambridge, and of Dr Cud worth. We find
it in a Poem on the Immortality of the Soul, by
Sir John Davis, Attorney-General to Queen
Elizabeth ; and probably it is to be met with in Notes
English publications of a still earlier date. illustrations
All things without which round about we see,
We seek to know, and have wherewith to do;
But that whereby we reason, live, and be,
Within ourselves, we strangers are thereto.
Is it because the mind is like the eye,
Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees ;
Whose rays reflect not, but spread outwardly ;
Not seeing itself, when other things it sees ?
No, doubtless; for the mind can backward cast
Upon herself her understanding light;
But she is so corrupt, and so defac’d,
As her own image doth herself affright.
As is the fable of the Lady fair,
Which for her lust was turned into a cow;
When thirsty, to a stream she did repair,
[ And saw herself transform’d, she wist not how:
At first she startles, then she stands amaz’d;
At last with terror she from hence doth fly,
And loathes the wat’ry glass wherein she gaz’d,
And shuns it still, although for thirst she die.
For even at first reflection she espies
Such strange chimeras, and such monsters there;
Such toys, such antics, and such vanities,
As she retires and shrinks for shame and fear.
I have quoted these verses, chiefly because I
think it not improbable that they may have
suggested to Gray the following very happy
allusion in his fine Fragment De Prflicipiis Co-
gitandi:
Qualis Hamadryadum quondam si forte sororum
Una, novos peregrans saltus, et devia rura
(Atque illam in viridi suadet procumbere ripa
Fontis pura quies, et opaci frigoris umbra);
Dum prona in latices speculi de margine pendet,
Mirata est subitam venienti occurrere Nympham
Mox eosdem, quos ipsa, artus, eadem ora gerentem
Una inferre gradus, una succedere sylvae
Aspicit alludens; seseque agnoscit in undis
Sic sensu interno rerum simulacra suarum
Mens ciet, et proprios observat conscia vultus.
Note Z, p. 122.
The chief attacks made in England on Locke’s
Essay, during his own lifetime, were by Edward
Stillingfleet, Bishop of Worcester; John Nor¬
ris, 1 Rector of Bemerton ; Henry Lee, B. D.;
1 Of this person, who was a most ingenious and original thinker, I shall have occasion afterwards to speak.
254
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes and the Reverend Mr Lowde (author of a Dis-
Illustrations.course concerning the Nature of Man). Of these
four writers, the first is the only one whose ob¬
jections to Locke are now at all remembered in
the learned world; and for this distinction, Stil-
lingfleet is solely indebted (I speak of him here
merely as a metaphysician, for in some other
departments of study, his merits are universally
admitted) to the particular notice which Locke
has condescended to take of him, in the Notes
incorporated with the later editions of his Essay.
The only circumstance which renders these
Notes worthy of preservation, is the record they
furnish of Locke’s forbearance and courtesy, in
managing a controversy carried on, upon the
other side, with so much captiousness and aspe¬
rity. An Irish bishop, in a letter on this sub¬
ject to Mr Molyneux, writes thus : “ I read Mr
Locke’s letter to the Bishop of Worcester with
great satisfaction, and am wholly of your opi¬
nion, that he has fairly laid the great bishop on
his back, but it is with so much gentleness, as
if he were afraid not only of hurting him, but
even of spoiling or tumbling his clothes.”
The work of Lee is entitled “ Anti-scepticism^
or Notes upon each chapter of Mr Locke’s Es¬
say concerning Human Understanding, with an
explanation of all the particulars of which he
treats, and in the same order. By Henry Lee,
B. D. formerly Fellow of Emanuel College in
Cambridge, now Rector of Tichmarsh in North¬
amptonshire.”—London, 1702, in folio.
The strictures of this author, which are often
acute and sometimes just, are marked through¬
out with a fairness and candour rarely to be met
with in controversial writers. It will appear
remarkable to modern critics that he lays parti¬
cular stress upon the charms of Locke’s style,
among the other excellencies which had conspir¬
ed to recommend his work to public favour.
The celebrated author of the Essay on Hu¬
man Understanding has all the advantages desir¬
able to recommend it to the inquisitive genius
of this age ; an avowed pretence to new methods
of discovering truth and improving learning; an
unusual coherence in the several parts of his
scheme ; a singular clearness in his reasonings; x0tc<
and above all, a natural elegancy of style; an anc!
unaffected beauty in his expressions; a just pro-
portion and tuneable cadence in all his periods.”.
—(See the Epistle Dedicatory.)
Note AA, p. 125.
For the information of some of my readers,
it may be proper to observe, that the word influx
came to be employed to denote the action of body
and soul on each other, in consequence of a pre¬
vailing theory which supposed that this action
was carried on by something intermediate (whe¬
ther material or immaterial was not positively
decided) flowing from the one substance to the
other. It is in this sense that the word is un¬
derstood by Leibnitz, when he states as an in¬
surmountable objection to the theory of influx,
that “ it is impossible to conceive either mate¬
rial particles or immaterial qualities to pass
from body to mind, or from mind to body.”
Instead of the term influx, that of influence
came gradually to be substituted by our English
writers; but the two words were originally
synonymous, and were used indiscriminately as
late as the time of Sir Matthew Hale.—(See his
Primitive Origination of Mankind.)
In Johnson’s Dictionary, the primitive and
radical meaning assigned to the word influence
(which he considers as of French extraction) is
<£ the power of the celestial aspects operating
upon terrestrial bodies and affairsand in the
Encyclopedia of Chambers, it is defined to be
a quality supposed to flow from the bodies
of the stars, either with their heat or light, to
which astrologers vainly attribute all the events
which happen on the earth.” To this astrolo¬
gical use of the word Milton had plainly a re¬
ference in that fine expression of his L’Allegro,
“ Store of ladies whose bright eyes
“ Rain influence."*
It is a circumstance worthy of notice, that a
word thus originating in the dreams of astro-
1 The explanation of the word influence, given in the Dictionary of the French Academy, accords perfectly with the tenor
of the above remarks. “ Yertu qui, suivant les Astrologues, dtcoule des Astres sur les corps sublunaires.”
DISSERTATION FIRST.
255
otes logers and schoolmen, should now, in our lan-
ad. guage, be appropriated almost exclusively to
politics. “ Thus,” says Blackstone, “ are the
electors of one branch of the legislature secured
from any undue influence from either of the other
two, and from all external violence and com¬
pulsion ; but the greatest danger is that in which
themselves co-operate by the infamous practice
of bribery and corruption.” And again, “ The
crown has gradually and imperceptibly gained
almost as much in influence as it has lost in pre¬
rogative.”
In all these cases, there will be found at bot¬
tom one common idea, the existence of some se¬
cret and mysterious connection between two
things, of which connection it is conceived to be
impossible or unwise to trace what Bacon calls
the Mens processus.
Note BB, p. 126.
After these quotations from Locke, added to
those which I have already produced from the
same work, the reader may judge of the injustice
done to him by Leibnitz, in the first sentence of
his correspondence with Clarke.
“ II semble que la religion naturelle meme
s’affoiblit extremement. Plusieurs font les ames
corporelles; d’autres font Dieu lui-meme cor-
porel.
“ M. Locke et ses sectateurs, doutent au moins,
si les ames ne sont materielles, et naturellement
perissables.”
Dr Clarke, in his reply to this charge, admits
that11 some parts of Locke’s writings may justly
be suspected as intimating his doubts whether
the soul be immaterial or no; but herein (he adds)
he has been followed only by some Materialists,
enemies to the mathematical principles of philo¬
sophy, and who approve little or nothing in Mr
Locke’s writings, but his errors.”
To those who have studied with care the whole
writings of Locke, the errors here alluded to will
appear in a very venial light when compared
with the general spirit of his philosophy. Nor
can I forbear to remark farther on this occasion,
that supposing Locke’s doubts concerning the
immateriality of the soul to have been as real as
Clarke seems to have suspected, this very cir¬
cumstance would only reflect the greater lustre Notes
on the soundness of his logical views concerning and.
the proper method of studying the mind;—in
the prosecution of which study, he has adhered
much more systematically than either Descartes
or Leibnitz to the exercise of reflection^ as the
sole medium for ascertaining the internal phe¬
nomena; describing, at the same time, these
phenomena in the simplest and most rigorous
terms which our language affords, and avoiding,
in a far greater degree than any of his prede¬
cessors, any attempt to explain them by analogies
borrowed from the perceptions of the external
senses.
I before observed, that Leibnitz greatly under¬
rated Locke as a metaphysician. It is with re¬
gret I have now to mention, that Locke has by
no means done justice to the splendid talents
and matchless erudition of Leibnitz. In a letter
to his friend Mr Molyneux, dated in 1697, he
expresses himself thus: <{ I see you and I agree
pretty well concerning Mr Leibnitz; and this
sort of fiddling makes me hardly avoid thinking
that he is not that very great man as has been
talked of him.” And in another letter, written
in the same year to the same correspondent, after
referring to one of Leibnitz’s Memoirs in the
Acta JEruditorum (De Primse Philosophise Emen-
datione), he adds, ii From whence I only draw
this inference, that even great parts will not master
any subject without great thinking, and that even
the largest minds have but narrow swallows.”
Let me add, that in my quotations from Eng¬
lish writers, I adhere scrupulously to their own
phraseology, in order to bring under the eye of
my readers, specimens of English composition
at different periods of our history. I must re*
quest their attention to this circumstance, as
some expressions in the former part of this Dis¬
sertation, which have been censured as Scot¬
ticisms, occur in extracts from authors who, in
all probability, never visited this side of the
Tweed.
Note CC, p. 131.
After studying, with all possible diligence,
what Leibnitz has said of his monads in different
parts of his works, I find myself quite incom-
256
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes petent to annex any precise idea to the word as
and. he has employed it. I shall, therefore, aim at
nothing more m this note, hut to collect, into as
small a compass as I can, some df his most
intelligible attempts to explain its meaning.
“ A substance is a thing capable of action.
It is simple or compounded. A simple substance
is that which has no parts. A compound sub¬
stance is an aggregate of simple substances or of
monads.
<c Compounded substances, or bodies, are mul¬
titudes. Simple substances, lives, souls, spirits,
are units.1 Such simple substances must exist
everywhere; for without simple substances
there could be no compounded ones. All nature
therefore is full of life.”—(Tom. II. p. 32.)
4 4 Monads, having no parts, are neither ex¬
tended, figured, nor divisible. They are the real
atoms of nature, or, in other words, the elements
of things.”—(Tom. II. p. 20.)
(It must not, however, be imagined, that the
monads of Leibnitz have any resemblance to
what are commonly called atoms by philoso¬
phers. On the contrary, he says expressly, that
44 monads are not atoms of matter, but atoms
of substances ;—real units, which are the first
principles in the composition of things, and the
last elements in the analysis of substances;—of
which principles or elements, what we call bo¬
dies are only the 'phenomena.^)—(Tom. II. pp.
53. 325.)
In another passage we are told, that 44 a mo¬
nad is not a material but a formal atom, it being
impossible for a thing to be at once material,
and possessed of a real unity and indivisibility.
It is necessary, therefore,” says Leibnitz, 44 to
revive the obsolete doctrines of substantial forms
(the essence of which consists in force), separat¬
ing it, however, from the various abuses to which
it is liable.”—{Ibid. p. 50.)
44 Every monad is a living mirror, represent¬
ing the universe, according to its particular
point of view, and subject to as regular laws as
the universe itself.”
44 Every monad, with a particular body, makes
a living substance.”
44 The knowledge of every soul {dme) extends Not,
to infinity, and to all things; but this know-Illus^
ledge is confused. As a person walking on the ^v
margin of the sea, and listening to its roar,
hears the noise of each individual wave of
which the whole noise is made up, but without
being able to distinguish one sound from ano¬
ther, in like manner, our confused perceptions
are the result of the impressions made upon us
by the whole universe. The case (he adds) is
the same with each monad”
44 As for the reasonable soul or mind (Vesprit),
there is something in it more than in the monads,
or even than in those souls which are simple. It
is not only a mirror of the universe of created
things, but an image of the Deity. Such minds
are capable of reflected acts, and of conceiving
what is meant by the words I, substance, monad,
soul, mind ; in a word, of conceiving things and
truths unconnected with matter; and it is this
which renders us capable of science and of de¬
monstrative reasoning.
44 What becomes of these soids, or forms, on
the death of the animal ? There is no alterna¬
tive (replies Leibnitz) but to conclude, that not
only the soul is preserved, but that the animal
also with its organical machine continues to exist,
although the destruction of its grosser parts has
reduced it to a smallness as invisible to our eyes
as it was before the moment of conception.
Thus neither animals nor souls perish at death ;
nor is there such a thing as death, if that word
be understood with rigorous and metaphysical
accuracy. The soul never quits completely the
body with which it is united, nor does it pass
from one body into another with which it had
no connection before; a metamorphosis takes
place, but there is no metempsychosis.—(Tom.
IL pp. 51, 52.)
On this part of the Leibnitzian system,
D’Alembert remarks, that it proves nothing
more than that the author had perceived better
than any of his predecessors, the impossibility of
forming a distinct idea of the nature of matter;
a subject, however (D’Alembert adds), on which
the theory of the monads does not seem calcu-
1 “ Les substances simples, les vies, les ames, les esprits, sent des unites.'
DISSERTATION FIRST.
257
0tes lated to throw much light. I would rather say
ations (without altogether denying the justness of
v, /■'**-'' D’Alembert’s criticism), that this theory took its
rise from the author’s vain desire to explain the
nature of forces; in consequence of which he
suffers himself perpetually to be led astray from
those sensible effects which are exclusively the
proper objects of physics, into conjectures con¬
cerning their efficient causes, which are altoge¬
ther placed beyond the reach of our research.
Note D D, p. 134.
The metaphysical argument advanced by the
Leibnitzians in proof of the law of continuity has
never appeared to me to be satisfactory. 44 If a
body at rest (it has been said) begins, per saltum,
to move with any finite velocity, then this body
must be at the same indivisible instant in two
different states, that of rest and of motion, which
is impossible.” 1
As this reasoning, though it relates to a phy¬
sical fact, is itself wholly of a metaphysical na¬
ture ; and as the inference deduced from it has
been generalised into a law, supposed to extend
to all the various branches of human knowledge,
it is not altogether foreign to our present sub¬
ject briefly to consider how far it is demonstra¬
tively conclusive, in this simplest of all its pos¬
sible applications.
On the above argument, then, I would re¬
mark, 1. That the ideas both of rest and of mo¬
tion, as well as the more general idea conveyed
by the word state, all of them necessarily involve
the idea of time or duration ; and, consequently,
a body cannot be said to be in a state either of
rest or of motion, at an indivisible instant. Whe¬
ther the body be supposed (as in the case of mo¬
tion) to change its place from one instant to an¬
other ; or to continue (as in that of rest) for an
instant in the same place, the idea of some finite Notes
portion of time will, on the slightest reflection, illusions,
be found to enter as an essential element into
our conception of the physical fact.
2. Although it certainly would imply a con¬
tradiction to suppose a body to be in two differ¬
ent states at the same instant, there does not
appear to be any inconsistency in asserting that
an indivisible instant may form the limit between
a state of rest and a state of motion. Suppose
one half of this page to be painted white, and the
other black, it might, I apprehend, be said with
the most rigorous propriety, that the transition
from the one colour to the other was made per
saltum ; nor do I think it would be regarded as
a valid objection to this phraseology, to repre¬
sent it as one of its implied consequences, that
the mathematical line which forms their common
limit, must at once be both black and white.
It seems to me quite impossible to elude the
force of this reasoning, without having recourse
to the existence of something intermediate be¬
tween rest and motion, which does not partake of
the nature of either.
Is it conceivable that a body can exist in any
state which does not fall under one or other of
the two predicaments, rest or motion ? If this
question should be answered in the negative,
will it not follow that the transition from one
of these states to the other must, of necessity,
be made per saltum, and must consequently vio¬
late the supposed law of continuity ? Indeed,
if such a law existed, how could a body at rest
begin to move, or a body in motion come to a
state of rest ?
But farther, when it is said that tc it is im¬
possible for a body to have its state changed
from motion to rest, or from rest to motion,
without passing through all the intermediate de¬
grees of velocity,” what are we to understand by
1 44 Si toto tempore,” says Father Boscovich, speaking of the Law of Continuity in the Collision of Bodies, 44 ante con-
tactum subsequentis corporis superficies antecedens habuit 12 gradus velocitatis, et sequenti 9, saltu facto momentaneo ipso
initio contactus ; in ipso momento ea tempora dirimente debuissent habere et 12 et 9 srniul, quod est absurdum, Duas
enim velocitates simul habere corpus non potest.”—Theoria Phil. Nat. &c.
Boscovich, however, it is to be observed, admits the existence of the Law of Continuity in the phenomena of Motion*
alone (§ 143), and rejects it altogether in things co-existent with each other (§ 142). In other cases,. he says. Nature does
not observe the Law of Continuity with mathematical accuracy, but only affects it; by which expression he seems to mean,,
that, where she is guilty of a saltus, she aims at making it as moderate as possible. The expression is certainly deficient in
metaphysical precision; but it is not unworthy of attention, inasmuch as it affords a proof, that Boscovich did not (with
the Leibnitzians) conceive Nature, or the Author of Nature, as obeying an irresistible necessity in observing or not observing
the Law of Continuity. . ;
DISS. I. PART II. 2 K
258
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes the intermediate degrees of velocity between rest and
Illustrations ^lotion f Is not every velocity, how small soever,
a finite velocity; and does it not differ as essen¬
tially from a state of rest, as the velocity of
light ?
It is observed by Mr Playfair (Dissertation
on the Progress of Mathematical and Physical
Science, Part I. Sect, iii.), that Galileo was the
first who maintained the existence of the law of
continuity, and who made use of it as a principle
in his reasonings on the phenomena of motion.
Mr Playfair, however, with his usual discrimi¬
nation and correctness, ranks this among the
mechanical discoveries of Galileo. Indeed, it
does not appear that it was at all regarded by
Galileo (as it avowedly was by Leibnitz) in the
light of a metaphysical and necessary law, which
could not by any possibility be violated in any
of the phenomena of motion. It was probably
first suggested to him by the diagram which he
employed to demonstrate, or rather to illustrate,
the uniformly accelerated motion of falling bo¬
dies ;1 and the numberless and beautiful exem¬
plifications of the same law which occur in pure
geometry, sufficiently account for the disposition
which so many Mathematicians have shown to
extend it to all those branches of physics which
admit of a mathematical consideration.
My late illustrious friend, who, to his many
other great and amiable qualities, added the most
perfect fairness and candour in his inquiries after
truth, has (in the Second Part of his Disserta¬
tion) expressed himself with considerably great¬
er scepticism concerning the law of continuity,
than in his Outlines of Natural Philosophy. In
that work he pronounced the metaphysical ar¬
gument, employed by Leibnitz to prove its ne¬
cessity, “ to be conclusive.” (Sect. VI. § 99, b.)
In the Second Part of his Dissertation (Sect, ii.),
he writes thus on the same subject:
“ Leibnitz considered this principle as known
a priori, because, if any saltus were to take place,
that is, if any change were to happen without Note
the intervention of time, the thing changed must jjj
be in two different conditions at the same indi-
vidual instant, which is obviously impossible.
Whether this reasoning be quite satisfactory or
no, the conformity of the law to the facts gene¬
rally observed cannot but entitle it to great au¬
thority in judging of the explanations and theo¬
ries of natural phenomena.”,
The phrase, Law of Continuity, occurs repeat¬
edly in the course of the correspondence be¬
tween Leibnitz and John Bernouilli, and ap¬
pears to have been first used by Leibnitz him¬
self. The following passage contains some in¬
teresting particulars concerning the history of
this law : “ Lex Continuitatis, cum usque adeo
sit rationi et naturae consentanea, et usum ha-
beat tarn late patentem, mirum tamen est earn a
nemine (quantum recorder) antea adhibitam
fuisse. Mentionem ejus aliquam feceram olim in
Novellis Reipublicae Literariae (Juillet, 1687, p.
744), occasione collatiunculae cum Malebranchio,
qui ideo meis considerationibus persuasus, suam
de legibus motus in Inquisitione Veritatis exposi-
tam doctrinam postea mutavit; quod brevi li-
bello edito testatus est, in quo ingenue occa-
sionem mutationis exponit. Sed tamen paullo
promptior, quam par erat, fuit in novis legibus
constituendis in eodem libello, antequam mecum
communicasset; nec tantum in veritatem, sed
etiam in illam ipsam Legem Continuitatis, etsi
minus aperte, denuo tamen impegit; quod nolui
viro optimo objicere, ne viderer ejus existima-
tioni detrahere velle.”—Epist. Leibnit. ad Job.
Bernouilli, 1697.
From one of John Bernouilli’s letters to Leib¬
nitz, it would appear that he had himself a con¬
viction of the truth of this law, before he had
any communication with Leibnitz upon the
subject.
“ Placet tuum criterium pro examinandis re-
1 Descartes seems, from his correspondence with Mersenne, to have been much puzzled with Galileo’s reasonings con¬
cerning the descent of falling bodies ; and in alluding to it, has, on different occasions, expressed himself with an indecision
and inconsistency of which few instances occur in his works. (Vide Cartesii Epist. Pars II. Epist. xxxiv. xxxv. xxxvii. xci.)
His doubts on this point will appear less surprising, if compared with a passage in the article Mtchanxqnc in D’Alembert s
Elimens de Philosophic. “ Tous les philosophes paroissent convenir, que la vitesse avec laquelle les corps qui tombent com-
mencent a se mouvoir est absolument nulle,” &c. &c._(See his Melanges, Tom. IV. p. 219, 2-20.)
r 3
DISSERTATION FIRST.
259
,tes gulis motuum, quod legem continuitatis vocas;
d. est enim per se evidens, et velut a natura nobis
inditura, quod evanescente inaequalitate hypo-
thesium, evanescere quoque debeant inaequali-
tates eventuum. Hinc multoties non satis mi-
rari potui, qui fieri potuerit, ut tam incongruas,
tain absonas, et tam manifeste inter se pug-
nantes regulas, excepta sola prima, potuerit con-
dere Cartesius, vir alias summi ingenii. Mihi
videtur vel ab infante falsitatem illarum palpari
posse, eo quod ubique saltus ille, naturae adeo
inimicus, manifeste nimis elucet.”—Epist. Ber-
nouilli ad Leib. 1696. Vide Leibnitzii et Jo.
Bernouilli Comm. Epist. 2 vols. 4to. Lausannte
ct Genevne, 1745.)
Note E E, p. 134.
Mais il restoit encore la plus grande question,
de ee que ces ames ou ces formes deviennent
par la mort de I’animal, ou par la destruction
de Findividu de la substance organise. Et
c’est ce qui embarrasse le plus; d’autant qu’il
paroit peu raisonnable que les ames restent
inutilement dans un chaos de matiere confuse.
Cela m’a fait juger enfin qu’il n’y avoit qu’un
seul parti raisonnable a prendre; et c’est celui
de la conservation non seulement de Fame,
mais encore de I’animal meme, et de la ma¬
chine organique; quoique la destruction des
parties grossieres Fait reduit a une petitesse
qui n’echappe pas moins a nos sens que celle
ou il etoit avant que de naitre.—(Leib. Op.
Tom. II. p. 51.)
.... Des personnes fort exactes aux experi¬
ences se sont deja apercues de notre terns,1
qu’on peut douter, si jamais un animal tout a
fait nouveau est produit, et si les animaux tout
en vie ne sont deja en petit avant la conception
dans les semences aussi bien que les plantes.
Cette docrine etant posee, il sera raisonnable de
juger, que ce qui ne commence pas de vivre ne
cesse pas de vivre non plus; et que la mort,
comme la generation, n’est que la transforma¬
tion du meme animal qui est tantot augmente,
et tantot diminue.—(Ibid. pp. 42, 43.)
. . . . Et puisqu’ ainsi il n’y a point de pre- Notes
miere naissance ni de generation entierement T„ and.
ii 115 • i«i5 • %•-! Illustrations*
nouvelie de 1 animal, il s ensuit qu il n’y en aura
point d’extinction finale, ni de mort entiere prise
a la rigueur metaphysique; et que, par conse¬
quent, au lieu de la transmigration des ames, il
n’y a qu’une transformation d’un meme animal,
selon que les organes sont plies differement, et
plus ou moins developpes.—(Ibid. p. 52.)
Quant a la Metempsycose, je crois que Fordre
ne Fadmet point; il veut que tout soit expli¬
cable distinctement, et que rien ne se fasse par
saut. Mais le passage de Fame d’un corps dans
1’autre seroit un saut etrange et inexplicable.
Il se fait toujours dans I’animal ce qui se fait pre-
sentement: C’est que le corps est dans un
changement continuel, comme un fieuve, et ce
que nous appellons generation ou mort, n’est
qu’un changement plus grand et plus prompt
qu’a 1’ordinaire, tel que seroit le saut ou la ca-
taracte d’une riviere. Mais ces sauts ne sont
pas absolus et tels que je desaprouve; comme
seroit celui d’un corps qui iroit d’un lieu a un
autre sans passer par le milieu. Et de tels sauts
ne sont pas seulement defendus dans les mouvemens,
mais encore dans tout ordre des choses ou des veri-
tes.—The sentences which follow afford a proof
of what I have elsewhere remarked, how much
the mind of Leibnitz was misled, in the whole
of this metaphysical theory, by habits of think¬
ing formed in early life, amidst the hypothetical
abstractions of pure geometry; a prejudice (or
idol of the mathematical den) to which the most
important errors of his philosophy might, with¬
out much difficulty, be traced.—Or comme dans
une ligne de geometrie il y a certains points
distingues, qu’on appelle sommets, points d’in-
flexion, points de rebroussement, ou autrement;
et comme il y en a des lignes qui en ont une
infinite, c’est ainsi qu’il faut concevoir dans la
vie d’un animal ou d’une personne les terns
d’un changement extraordinaire, qui ne laissent
pas d’etre dans la regie generale; de meme que
les points distingues dans la courbe se peuvent
determiner par sa nature generale ou son equa¬
tion. On peut toujours dire d’un animal c’est
1 The experiments here referred to are the observations of Swammerdam, Malpighi, and Lewenhoeck.
260
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes tout comrne id, la difference n’est que du plus
Illustrations.ou moms.”—(Tom. V. p. 18.)
Note FF, p. 136.
The praise which I have bestowed on this
Memoir renders it necessary for me to take
some notice of a very exceptionable proposition
which is laid down in the first paragraph, as a
fundamental maxim,—that “ all proper names
were at first appellatives;” a proposition so
completely at variance with the commonly re-,
ceived opinions among later philosophers, that
it seems an object of some curiosity to inquire,
how far it is entitled to plead in its favour the
authority of Leibnitz. Since the writings of
Condillac and of Smith, it has, so far as I know,
been universally acknowledged, that, if there be
any one truth in the Theoretical History of Lan¬
guage, which we are entitled to assume as an
incontrovertible fact, it is the direct contrary of
the above proposition. Indeed, to assert that
all proper names were at first appellatives,
would appear to be nearly an absurdity of the
same kind as to maintain, that classes of objects
existed before individual objects had been
brought into being.
When Leibnitz, however, comes to explain
his idea more fully, we find it to be something
very different from what his words literally im¬
ply ; and to amount only to the trite and indis¬
putable observation, that, in simple and primi¬
tive languages, all proper names (such as the
names of persons, mountains, places of resi¬
dence, &c.) are descriptive or significant of cer¬
tain prominent and characteristical features,
distinguishing them from other objects of the
same class;—a fact, of which a large proportion
of the surnames still in use, all over Europe, as
well as the names of mountains, villages, and
rivers, when traced to their primitive roots,
afford numerous and well known exemplifica¬
tions.
Not that the proposition, even when thus ex¬
plained, can be assumed as a general maxim.
It holds, indeed, in many cases, as the Celtic
and the Saxon languages abundantly testify in
our own island; but it is true only under cer¬
tain limitations, and it is perfectly consistent
with the doctrine delivered on this subject by Note!
the greater part of philologers for the last fifty u]us“jj
years.
In the history of language, nothing is more
remarkable, than the aversion of men to coin
words out of unmeaning and arbitrary sounds;
and their eagerness to avail themselves of the
stores already in their possession, in order to
give utterance to their thoughts on the new
topics which the gradual extension of their ex¬
perience is continually bringing within the circle
of their knowledge. Hence metaphors, and
other figures of speech; and hence the various
changes which words undergo, in the way of
amplification, diminution, composition, and the
other transformations of elementary terms which
fall under the notice of the etymologist. Were
it not, indeed, for this strong and universal bias
of our nature, the vocabulary of every language
would, in process of time, become so extensive
and unwieldy, as to render the acquisition of
one’s mother tongue a task of immense diffi¬
culty, and the acquisition of a dead or foreign
tongue next to impossible. It is needless to
observe, how immensely these tasks are facili¬
tated by that etymological system which runs,
more or less, through every language; and
which everywhere proceeds on certain analogi¬
cal principles, which it is the business of the
practical grammarian to reduce to general rules,
for the sake of those who wish to speak or to
write it with correctness.
In attempting thus to trace backwards the
steps of the mind towards the commencement
of its progress, it is evident, that we must at
last arrive at a set of elementary and primitive
roots, of which no account can be given, hut
the arbitrary choice of those who first hap¬
pened to employ them. It is to this first stage
in the infancy of language that Mr Smith’s re¬
marks obviously relate; whereas the proposi¬
tion of Leibnitz, which gave occasion to this
note, as obviously relates to its subsequent
stages, when the language is beginning to as¬
sume somewbat of a regular form, by composi¬
tions and other modifications of the materials
previously collected.
From these slight hints it may be inferred,
ls£, That the proposition of Leibnitz, although
DISSERTATION FIRST.
261
Notes it may seem, from the very inaccurate and
and. equivocal terms in which it is expressed, to
stand in direct opposition to the doctrine of
Smith, was really meant by the author to state
a fact totally unconnected with the question
under Smith’s consideration. 2dly, That even
in the sense in which it was understood by the
author, it fails entirely, when extended to that
first stage in the infancy of language, to which
the introductory paragraphs in Mr Smith’s dis¬
course are exclusively confined.
Note GG, p. 138.
“ Je viens de recevoir une lettre d’un Prince
Regnant de 1’Empire, ou S. A. me marque avoir
vu deux fois ce printems a la derniere foire de
Leipsig, et examine avec soin un chien qui
parle. Ce chien a prononce distinctement plus
de trente mots, repondant meme assez a propos
a son maitre : il a aussi prononce tout 1’alpha-
bet excepte les lettres m, n, x.”—(Leib. Opera,
Tom. V. p. 72.)
Thus far the fact rests upon the authority of
the German prince alone. But from a passage
in the History of the Academy of Sciences, for the
year 1706, it appears that Leibnitz had himself
seen and heard the dog. What follows is trans¬
cribed from a report of the Academy upon a
letter from Leibnitz to the Abbe de St Pierre,
giving the details of this extraordinary occur¬
rence.
<c Sans un garant tel que M. Leibnitz, temoin
oculaire, nous n’aurions pas la hardiesse de rap-
porter, qu’aupres de Zeitz dans la Misnie, il y a
un chien qui parle. C’est un chien de Paysan,
d’une figure des plus communes, et de grandeur
mediocre. Un jeune enfant lui entendit pousser
quelques sons qu’il crut ressembler a des mots
Allemands, et sur cela se mit en tete de lui ap-
prendre a parler. Le maitre, qui n’avoit rien de
mieux a faire, n’y epargna pas le terns ni ses
peines, et heureusement le disciple avoit des dis¬
positions qu’il eut ete difficile de trouver dans un
autre. Enfin, au bout de quelques annees, le
chien scut prononcer environ une trentaine de
mots: de ce nombre sont The, Caffe, CJwcolat,
Assembles, mots Francois, qui ont passe dans
1’Allemand tels qu’ils sont. Il est a remarquer,
que le chien avoit bien trois ans quand il fut mis Notes
a 1’ecole. Il ne parle que par echo, c’est a dire, mutations
apres que son maitre a prononce un mot; et il
semble, qu’il ne repete que par force et malgre
lui, quoiqu’on ne le maltraite pas. Encore une
fois, M. Leibnitz l’a vu et entendu.”
(Expose d’une lettre de M. Leibnitz a 1’Abbe
de St Pierre sur un chien qui parle.) “ Get
expose de la lettre de M. Leibnitz se trouve dans
1’Histoire de I’Academig des Sciences, annee
1706. Ce sont les Auteurs de 1’Histoire de
1’Academie qui parlent.”—(Leib. Opera, Vol. II.
p. 180. P. II.)
May not all the circumstances of the above
story be accounted for, by supposing the master
of the dog to have possessed that peculiar species
of imitative power which is called Ventriloquism ?
Mathews, I have no doubt, would find little
difficulty in managing such a deception, so as
to impose on the senses of any person who had
never before witnessed any exhibition of the same
kind.
Note H H, p. 138.
When I speak in favourable terms of the
Philosophical Spirit, I hope none of my readers
will confound it with the spirit of that false
philosophy, which, by unhinging every rational
principle of belief, seldom fails to unite in the
same characters the extremes of scepticism and
of credulity. It is a very remarkable fact, that
the same period of the eighteenth century, and
the same part of Europe which were most dis¬
tinguished by the triumphs of Atheism and
Materialism, were also distinguished by a greater
number of visionaries and impostors than had
ever appeared before, since the revival of letters.
Nor were these follies confined to persons of
little education. They extended to men of the
highest rank, and to many individuals of dis¬
tinguished talents. Of this the most satisfactory
proofs might be produced; but I have room here
only for one short quotation. It is from the pen
of the Due de Levis, and relates to the celebrat¬
ed Mareschal de Richelieu, on whom Voltaire
has lavished so much of his flattery. “ Ce dont
je suis positivement certain, c’est que cet homme
spirituel (Le Mareschal de Richelieu) etoit
262
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes superstitieux, et qu’il croyoit aux predictions
3nd. des astroloffues et autres sottises de cet espece.
Je Fai vu refusant a Versailles daller faire sa
cour au fils aine de Louis XVI. en disant seri-
eusement, qiiil savoit que cet enfant n’etoit point
destine au trone. Cette credulite superstitieuse,
generale pendant la ligue, etoit encore tres com¬
mune sous la regence lorsque le Due de Richelieu
entra dans le monde; par la plus bizarre des
inconsequences, elle s’allioit tres bien avec la
plus grande impiete, et la plupart des material-
istes croyoient aux esprits ; aujourd’hui, ce genre
de folie est tres rare; mais beaucoup de gens,
qui se moquent des astrologues, croient a des
predictions d’une autre cspece.”—[Souvenirs et
Portraits, par M. de Levis, a Paris, 1813.)
Some extraordinary facts of the same kind are
mentioned in the Memoirs of the Marquis de
BouiUe. According to him, Frederic the Great
himself was not free from this sort of superstition.
A similar remark is made by an ancient
historian, with respect to the manners of Rome
at the period of the Gothic invasion. £C There
are many who do not presume either to bathe,
or to dine, or to appear in public, till they have
diligently consulted, according to the rules of
astrology, the situation of Mercury, and the
aspect of the Moon. It is singular enough that
this vain credulity may often be discovered
among the prophane sceptics, who impiously
doubt or deny the existence of a Celestial
Power.”—(Gibbon, from Ammiarms Marcel-
linus, Decline and Fall of the Homan Empire,
Vol. V. p. 278.)
Note 11, p. 139.
The following estimate of Leibnitz, considered
in comparison with his most distinguished con¬
temporaries, approaches, on the whole, very
nearly to the truth; although some doubts may
be entertained about the justness of the decision
in the last clause of the sentence. C£ Leibnitz,
aussi hardi que Descartes, aussi subtil que
Bayle, peut-etre moins profond que Newton, et
moins sage que Locke, mais seul universel entre Notes
tous ces grand hommes, paroit avoir embrasse ^ 3nd
le domaine de la raison dans toute son etendue, ^vv,
et avoir contribue le plus a repandre cet esprit
philosophique que fait aujourd’hui la gloire de
notre siecle.”—(Bailey, Elogede Leibnitz.)
I have mentioned in the text only a part of
the learned labours of Leibnitz. It remains to
be added, that he wrote also on various subjects
connected with chemistry, medicine, botany,
and natural history; on the philosophy and lan¬
guage of the Chinese; and on numberless other
topics of subordinate importance. The philolo¬
gical discussions and etymological collections,
which occupy so large a space among his works,
would (even if he had produced nothing else)
have been no inconsiderable memorials of the
activity and industry of his mind.
Manifold and heterogeneous as these pursuits
may at first appear, it is not difficult to trace the
thread by which his curiosity was led from one
of them to another. I have already remarked a
connection of the same sort between his different
metaphysical and theological researches; and it
may not be altogether uninteresting to extend
the observation to some of the subjects enume¬
rated .in the foregoing paragraph.
The studies by which he first distinguished
himself in the learned world (I pass over that
of jurisprudence,1 which was imposed on him
by the profession for which he was destined)
were directed to the antiquities of his own coun¬
try ; and more particularly to those connected
with the history of the house of Brunswick.
With this view he ransacked, with an unex¬
ampled industry, the libraries, monasteries, and
other archives, both of Germany and of Italy;
employing in this ungrateful drudgery several
of the best and most precious years of his life.
Mortified, however, to find how narrow the li¬
mits are, within which the range of written re¬
cords is confined, he struck out for himself and
Biully, in his Eloge on Leibnitz, speaks of him in terms of the most enthusiastic praise, as a philosophical jurist, and as
a man fitted to become the legislator of the human race. To me, I must own, it appears, that there is no part of his
writings m which he discovers less of his eharacteristical originality, than where he professes to treat of the law of nature.
On these occasions, how inferior does he appear to Grotius, not to speak of Montesquieu and his disciples !
DISSERTATION FIRST.
263
,'otes his successors a new and unexpected light, to
and. guide them through the seemingly hopeless
darkness of remote ages. This light was the
study of etymology, and of the affinities of dif¬
ferent tongues in their primitive roots;—a light
at first faint and glimmering, hut which, since
his time, has continued to increase in bright¬
ness, and is likely to do so more and more as
the world grows older. It is pleasing to see his
curiosity on this subject expand, from the names
of the towns and rivers and mountains in his
neighbourhood, till it reached to China and other
regions in the east; leading him, in the last re¬
sult, to some general conclusions concerning the
origin of the different tribes of our species, ap¬
proximating very nearly to those which have
been since drawn from a much more extensive
range of data by Sir William Jones, and other
philologers of the same school.
As an additional light for illustrating the an-'
tiquities of Germany, he had recourse to natu¬
ral history; examining, with a scientific eye, the
shells and other marine bodies everywhere to be
found in Europe, and the impressions of plants
and fishes (some of them unknown in this part
of the world) which are distinctly legible, even
by the unlettered observer, on many of our fos¬
sils. In entering upon this research, as well as
on the former, he seems to have had a view to
Germany alone; on the state of which (he tells
us), prior to all historical documents, it was his
purpose to prefix a discourse to his History of
the House of Brunswick. But his imagination
soon took a bolder flight, and gave birth to his
Protogcea;—a dissertation which (to use his own
words) had for its object <{ to ascertain the ori¬
ginal face of the earth, and to collect the ves¬
tiges of its earliest history from the monuments
which nature herself has left of her successive
operations on its surface.” It is a work which,
wild and extravagant as it may now be regard- Notes
ed, is spoken of by Buffon with much respect; 111^^;^g
and is considered by Cuvier as the ground-work
of Buffon’s own system on the same subject.
In the connection which I have now pointed
out between the Historical, the Philological,
and the Geological speculations of Leibnitz,
Helvetius might have fancied that he saw a new
exemplification of the law of continuity; but the
true light in which it ought to be viewed, is as
a faithful picture of a philosophical mind eman¬
cipating itself from the trammels of local and
conventional details, and gradually rising from
subject to subject, till it embraces in its survey
those nobler inquiries which, sooner or later,
will be equally interesting to every portion of
the human race.1
Note K K, p. 143.
Of Locke’s affectionate regard for Collins,
notwithstanding the contrariety of their opinions
on some questions of the highest moment, there
exist many proofs in his letters, published by M.
Des Maizeaux. In one of these, the following
passage is remarkable. It is dated from Oates
in Essex, 1703, about a year before Locke’s
death.
<c You complain of a great many defects; and
that very complaint is the highest recommenda¬
tion I could desire to make me love and esteem
you, and desire your friendship. And if I were
now setting out in the world, I should think it
my great happiness to have such a companion
as you, who had a true relish for truth; would
in earnest seek it with me; from whom I might
receive it undisguised; and to whom I might
communicate what I thought true freely. Be¬
lieve it, my good friend, to love truth for truth’s
sake, is the principal part of human perfection
1 In the above note, I have said nothing of Leibnitz’s project of a philosophical language, founded on an alphabet of
Human Thoughts, as he has nowhere given us any hint of the principles on which he intended to proceed 11^1ts tormatmn.
although he has frequently alluded to the practicability of such an invention in terms of extraordinary confidence. (1 or
some remarks on these passages in his works, see Philosophy of the Human Mind, "Vol. II. pp. 143, scq.) In some of
Leibnitz’s expressions on this subject, there is a striking resemblance to those of Descartes in one of his letters.—(See the
preliminary discourse prefixed to the Abbe Emery’s Pensees de Descartes, p. xiv. et seq.)
In the ingenious essay of Michaelis On the Influence of Opinions on Language, and of Language on Opinions (which obtained
the prize from the Royal Society of Berlin in 1759, there are some very acute and judicious reflections on the impossibili¬
ty of carrying into effect, with any advantage, such a project as these philosophers had in view. The author s argument
on this point seems to me decisive, in the present state of human knowledge; but who can pretend to fix a limit to the
possible attainments of our posterity!
264
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes in this world, and the seed-plot of all other vir-
tii ^ndf- n tues ’ an<^’ if I mistake not, you have as much
of it as ever I met with in any body. What,
then, is there wanting to make you equal to the
hest; a friend for any one to be proud of ?
 The whole of Locke’s letters to Col¬
lins are highly interesting and curious; more
particularly that which he desired to be deliver¬
ed to him after his own death. From the ge¬
neral tenor of these letters, it may be inferred,
that Collins had never let Locke fully into the
secret of those pernicious opinions which he was
afterwards at so much pains to disseminate.
Note L L, p. 144.
In addition to the account of Spinoza given in
Bayle, some interesting particulars of his his¬
tory may be learnt from a small volume, en¬
titled, La Vie de B. de Spinoza, tiree des ecrits
de ce Fameux Philosophe, et du temoignage de plu-
sieurs personnes dignes de foi, qui Vont connu par-
ticulierement: par Jean Colerus, Ministre de
VEglise Lutherienne de la Haye. 1706.1 The
book is evidently written by a man altogether
unfit to appreciate the merits or demerits of
Spinoza as an author; but it is not without
some value to those who delight in the study of
human character, as it supplies some chasms in
the narrative of Bayle, and has every appear¬
ance of the most perfect impartiality and can¬
dour.
According to this account, Spinoza was a per¬
son of the most quiet and inoffensive manners; of
singular temperance and moderation in his pas¬
sions; contented and happy with an income
which barely supplied him with the necessaries
of life; and of too independent a spirit to accept
of any addition to it, either from the favour of
princes, or the liberality of his friends. In con¬
formity to the law, and to the customs of his
ancestors (which he adhered to, when he thought
them not unreasonable, even when under the
sentence of excommunication), he resolved to
learn some mechanical trade; and fortunately
selected that of grinding optical glasses, in which
he acquired so much dexterity, that it furnished Notes
him with what he conceived to be a sufficientI1!u®”adtio
maintenance. He acquired also enough of the ^vn.
art of designing, to produce good portraits in
chalk and china-ink, of some distinguished
persons.
For the last five years of his life he lodged in
the house of a respectable and religious family,
who were tenderly attached to him, and from
whom his biographer collected various interest¬
ing anecdotes. All of them are highly credit¬
able to his private character, and more particu¬
larly show how courteous and amiable he must
have been in his intercourse with his inferiors.
In a bill presented for payment after his death,
he is styled by Abraham Keveling, his barber-
surgeon, Benedict Spinoza, of Messed memory;
and the same compliment is paid to him by
the tradesman who furnished gloves to the
mourners at his funeral.
These particulars are the more deserving of
notice, as they rest on the authority of a very
zealous member of the Lutheran communion,
and coincide exactly with the account given of
Spinoza by the learned and candid Mosheim.
“ This man (says he) observed, in his conduct,
the rules of wisdom and probity much better
than many who profess themselves Christians;
nor did he ever endeavour to pervert the senti¬
ments or to corrupt the morals of those with
whom he lived; or to inspire, in his discourse,
a contempt of religion or virtue.” (Eccles.
History, translated by Dr Maclaine, Vol. IV.
p. 252.)
Among the various circumstances connected
with Spinoza’s domestic habits, Colerus men¬
tions one very trifling singularity, which ap¬
pears to me to throw a strong light on his ge¬
neral character, and to furnish some apology
for his eccentricities as an author. The ex¬
treme feebleness of his constitution (for he was
consumptive from the age of 20) having unfitted
him for the enjoyment of convivial pleasures,
he spent the greater part of the day in his
chamber alone; but when fatigued with study,
he would sometimes join the family party below,
.1 The Life of Spinoza by Colerus, with some other curious pieces on the same subject, is reprinted in the complete edi¬
tion of Spinoza’s Works, published at Jena, in 1802. ’ .
DISSERTATION FIRST.
205
,tes and take a part in their conversation, however
ld insignificant its subject might be. One of the
ations. ^ • , i • i i i
amusements with which he was accustomed to
unbend his mind, was that of entangling flies
in a spider’s web, or of setting spiders a-fight-
ing with each other; on which occasions (it is
added) he would observe their combats with so
much interest, that it was not unusual for him
to be seized with immoderate fits of laughter.
Does not this slight trait indicate very decidedly
a tendency to insanity; a supposition by no
means incompatible (as will be readily admitted
by all who have paid any attention to the phe¬
nomena of madness) with that logical acumen
which is so conspicuous in some of his writ¬
ings ?
His irreligious principles he is supposed to
have adopted, in the first instance, from his
Latin preceptor Yander Ende, a physician and
classical scholar of some eminence; but it is
much more probable, that his chief school of
atheism was the synagogue of Amsterdam;
where, without any breach of charity, a large
proportion of the more opulent class of the as¬
sembly may be reasonably presumed to belong
to the ancient sect of Sadducees. (This is, I
presume, the idea of Heineccius in the follow¬
ing passage: “ Quamvis Spinoza Cartesii prin-
cipia methodo mathematica demon strata dede-
rit; Pantheismum tamen ille non ex Cartesio
didicit, sed domi habuit, quos sequeretur” In
proof of this, he refers to a book entitled Spi-
nozismus in Judaismo, by Waechterus.) The
blasphemous curses pronounced upon him in
the sentence of excommunication were not well
calculated to recal him to the faith of his ances¬
tors; and when combined with his early and
hereditary prejudices against Christianity, may
go far to account for the indiscriminate war
which he afterwards waged against priests of
all denominations.
The ruling passion of Spinoza seems to have
been the love of fame. “ It is owned (says
Bayle) that he had an extreme desire to immor¬
talise his name, and would have sacrificed his
life to that glory, though he should have been Notes
torn to pieces by the mob.”—(Art. Spinoza.) jiius^i0ns
Note MM, p. 148.
In proof of the impossibility of Liberty, Col¬
lins argues thus:
“ A second reason to prove man a necessary
agent is, because all his actions have a begin¬
ning. For whatever has a beginning must have
a cause; and every cause is a necessary cause.
{£ If anything can have a beginning, which
has no cause, then nothing can produce some¬
thing. And if nothing can produce something,
then the world might have had a beginning
without a cause; which is an absurdity not only
charged on atheists, but is a real absurdity in
itself.* * * * * Liberty, therefore, or a power to
act or not to act, to do this or another thing
under the same causes, is an impossibility and
atheistical.1
“ And as Liberty stands, and can only be
grounded on the absurd principles of Epicurean
atheism; so the Epicurean atheists, who were
the most popular and most numerous sect of the
atheists of antiquity, were the great assertors of
liberty; as, on tbe other side, the Stoics, who
were the most popular and numerous sect
among the religionaries of antiquity, were the
great assertors of fate and necessity”—(Col¬
lins, p. 54.)
As to the above reasoning of Collins, it can¬
not be expected that I should, in the compass of
a Note, “ boult this matter to the bran.” It is
sufficient here to remark, that it derives all its
plausibility from the unqualified terms in which
the maxim (yrifav avuinoi/) has frequently been
stated. “ In the idea of every change (says Dr
Price, a zealous advocate for the freedom of the
will) is included that of its being an effect”
(Review, p. 30, 3d edition.) If this maxim
be literally admitted without any explanation or
restriction, it seems difficult to resist the con¬
clusions of the Necessitarians. The proper
statement of Price’s maxim evidently is, that
1 To the same purpose Edwards attempts to show, that “ the scheme of free-will (by affording an exception to that d
fate of common sense which refers every event to a cause) would destroy the proof a posteriori for the being of od.
DISS. I. PART II.
2 L
266
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes “ in every change we perceive in inanimate mat-
T!1 and. ter, the idea of its being an effect is necessarily
involvedand that he himself understood it
under this limitation appears clearly from the
application he makes of it to the point in dis¬
pute. As to intelligent and active beings, to
affirm that they possess the power of self-deter¬
mination, seems to me to be little more than an
identical proposition. Upon an accurate analysis
of the meaning of words, it will he found that
the idea of an efficient cause implies the idea
of Mind; and, consequently, that it is absurd
to ascribe the volitions of mind to the efficiency
of causes foreign to itself. To do so must un¬
avoidably involve us in the inconsistencies of
Spinozism; by forcing us to conclude that
everything is passive, and nothing active in the
universe; and, consequently, that the idea ol a
First Cause involves an impossibility.—But upon
these hints I must not enlarge at present; and
shall, therefore, confine myself to what falls
more immediately within the scope of this Dis¬
course, Collins’s Historical Statement with re¬
spect to the tenets of the Epicureans and the
Stoics.
In confirmation of his assertion concerning
the former, he refers to the following well known
lines of Lucretius:
Denique si semper motus connectitur omnis,
&c. &c. (Lucret. Lib. 2. v. 251.)
On the obscurity of this passage, and the in¬
consistencies involved in it, much might be
said; but it is of more importance, on the pre¬
sent occasion, to remark its complete repug¬
nance to the whole strain and spirit of the Epi¬
curean Philosophy. This repugnance did not
escape the notice of Cicero, who justly consi¬
ders Epicurus as having contributed more to
establish, by this puerile subterfuge, the autho¬
rity of Fatalism, than if he had left the argu¬
ment altogether untouched. “ Nec vero quis-
quam magis confirmare mihi videtur non modo
fatum, verum etiam necessitatem et vim om¬
nium rerum, sustulisseque motus animi volun¬
taries, quam hie qui aliter obsistere fato fatetur
se non potuisse nisi ad has commenticias decli-
nationes confugisset.”—(Liber de Fato, cap. 20.)
On the noted expression of Lucretius (fatis xot(
avolsa voluntas) some acute remarks are made n]i
in a note on the French translation by M. de la
Grange. They are not improbably from the
pen of the Baron d’Holbach, who is said to have
contributed many notes to this translation.
Whoever the author was, he was evidently
strongly struck with the inconsistency of this
particular tenet with the general principles of
the Epicurean system.
“ On est surpris qu’ Epicure fonde la liberte
humaine sur la declinaison des atomes. On de-
mande si cette declinaison est necessaire, on si
elle est simplement accidentelle. Necessaire,
comment la liherte peut elle en etre le resultat ?
Accidentelle, par quoi est elle determinee ?
Mais on devrait bien plutot etre surpris, qu’il
lui soit venu en idee de rendre Thomme fibre
dans un systeme qui suppose un enchainement
necessaire de causes et d’elfets. C’etoit une
recherche curieuse, que la raison qui a pu faire
d’Epicure I’Apotre de la Liberte.” For the
theory which follows on this point, I must refer
to the work in question.—(See Traduction Fou-
velle de Lucrece, avec des Notes, par M. de la
Grange, Vol. I. pp. 218, 219, 220, a Paris,
1768.)
But whatever may have been the doctrines of
some of the ancient Atheists about man’s free-
agency, it will not be denied, that in the History
q/1 Modern Philosophy, the schemes of Atheism
and of Necessity have been hitherto always con¬
nected together. Not that I would by any
means be understood to say, that every Neces¬
sitarian must ipso facto he an Atheist, or even
that any presumption is afforded by a man’s at¬
tachment to the former sect, of his having the
slightest bias in favour of the latter; but only
that every modern Atheist I have heard of has
been a Necessitarian. I cannot help adding,
that the most consistent Necessitarians who
have yet appeared, have been those who follow¬
ed out their principles till they ended in Spino¬
zism, a doctrine which differs from atheism more
in words than in reality.
In what Collins says of the Stoics in the above
quotation, he plainly proceeds on the supposi¬
tion that all Fatalists are of course Necessita-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
267
ite3 rians;1 and I agree with him in thinking, that
ld. this would be the case, if they reasoned logically.
It is certain, however, that a great proportion
of those who have belonged to the first sect have
disclaimed all connection with the second. The
Stoics themselves furnish one very remarkable
instance. I do not know any author by whom
the liberty of the will is stated in stronger and
more explicit terms, than it is by Epictetus in
the A^ery first sentence of the Enchiridion. In¬
deed the Stoics seem, with their usual passion
for exaggeration, to have carried their ideas
about the freedom of the will to an unphiloso-
phical extreme.
If the belief of man’s free-agency has thus
maintained its ground among professed Fatalists,
it need not appear surprising, that it should have
withstood the strong arguments against it, which
the doctrine of the eternal decrees of God, and
even that of the Divine prescience, appear at
first sight to furnish. A remarkable instance of
this occurs in St Augustine (distinguished in ec¬
clesiastical history by the title of the Doctor of
Grace), who has asserted the liberty of the will
in terms as explicit as those in which he has an¬
nounced the theological dogmas with which it is
most difficult to reconcile it. Nay, he has gone
so far as to acknowledge the essential import¬
ance of this belief, as a motive to virtuous con¬
duct. “ Quocirca nullo modo cogimur, aut re-
tenta prsescientia Dei, tollere voluntatis arbi-
trium, aut retento voluntatis arbitrio, Deum,
quod nefas est, negare praescium futurorum, sed
utrumque amplectimur, utrumque fideliter et
veraciter confitemur : illud, ut bene credamus ;
hoc ut bene vivamus”
Descartes has expressed himself on this point
nearly to the same purpose with St Augustine.
In one passage he asserts, in the most unquali¬
fied terms, that God is the cause of all the ac¬
tions which depend on the Free-will of Man ;
and yet, that the Will is really free, he consi- Notes
ders as a fact perfectly established by the evi- iiiilstraiions.
dence of consciousness. “ Sed quemadmodum
existentise divinse cognitio non debet liberi nos-
tri arbitrii certitudinem tollere, quia illud in no-
bismet ipsis experimur et sentimus; ita neque
liberi nostri arbitrii cognitio existentiam Dei
apud nos dubiam facere debet. Independentia
enim ilia qnam experimur, atque in nobis per-
sentiscimus, et quae actionibus nostris laude vel
vituperio dignis efficiendis sufficit, non pugnat
cum dependentia alterius generis, secundum
quam omnia Deo subjiciuntur.”—(Cartesii
Epistolcc, Epist. VIII. IX. Pars i.) These let¬
ters form part of his correspondence with the
Princess Elizabeth, daughter of Frederick, King
of Bohemia, and Elector Palatine.
We are told by Dr Priestley, in the very in¬
teresting Memoirs of his own Life, that he was
educated in the strict principles of Calvinism;
and yet it would appear, that while he remained
a Calvinist, he entertained no doubt of his being
a free-agent. “ The doctrine of Necessity,” he
also tells us, “ he first learned from Collins ;a
and was established in the belief of it by Hart¬
ley’s Observations on Man.”—(Ibid. p. 19.) He
farther mentions in another work, that “ he was
not a ready convert to the doctrine of Necessity,
and that, like Dr Hartley himself, he gave up
his liberty with great reluctance.”—[Preface to
the Doctrine of Philosophical Necessity Illustrated,
2d edit. Birmingham, 1782, p. xxvii.)
These instances afford a proof, I do not say of
the compatibility of man’s free-agency with those
schemes with which it seems most at variance,
but of this compatibility in the opinion of some
of the profoundest thinkers who have turned
their attention to the argument. No conclusion,
therefore, can be drawn against a man’s belief
in his own free-agency, from his embracing other
metaphysical or theological tenets, with which
1 Collins states this more strongly in what he says of the Pharisees. “ The Pharisees, who were a religious sect, as¬
cribed all things to fate or to God’s appointment, and it was the first article of their creed, that hate and God do all, and,
consequently, they could not assert a true liberty when they asserted a liberty together with this fatality and necessity of all
things.”—(Collins, p. 54.) . . ,
a W e are elsewhere informed by Priestley, that “ it was in consequence of reading and studying the Inquiry of Collins,
he was first convinced of the truth of the doctrine of Necessity, and was enabled to see the fallacy of most of the arguments
in favour of Philosophical Liberty: though (he adds) I was much more confirmed in this principle by my acquaintance
with Hartley’s Theory of the Human Mind: a work to which I owe much more than I am able to express. —(Pieface, &c.
&c. p. xxvii.)
268
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes it may appear to ourselves impossible to recon-
and .i •,
Illustrations. C“e ^
As for the notion of liberty, for which Collins
professes himself an advocate, it is precisely that
of his predecessor Hobbes, who defines a free-
agent to be, “ he that can do if he will, and for¬
bear if he will.”—(Hobbes’s Works, p. 484, fol.
ed.) The same definition has been adopted by
Leibnitz, by Gravesande, by Edwards, by Bon¬
net, and by all our later necessitarians. It can¬
not be better expressed than in the words of
Gravesande : “ Facultas faciendi quod libuerit,
quaicunque fuerit voluntatis determination—(In-
trod. ad Philosoph. § 115.)
Dr Priestley ascribes this peculiar notion of
free-will to Hobbes as its author;1 but it is, in
fact, of much older date even among modern
metaphysicians; coinciding exactly with the
doctrine of those scholastic divines who contend¬
ed for the Liberty of Spontaneity, in opposition
to the Liberty of Indifference. It is, however, to
Hobhes that the partizans of this opinion are in¬
debted for the happiest and most popular illus¬
tration of it that has yet been given. “ I con¬
ceive,” says he, “ liberty to be rightly defined,
The absence of all the impediments to action that
are not contained in the nature and intrinsical
quality of the agent. As, for example, the wa¬
ter is said to descend freely, or to have liberty
to descend by the channel of the river, because
there is no impediment that way: but not across,
because the banks are impediments. And,
though water cannot ascend, yet men never say,
it wants the liberty to ascend, but the faculty or
power, because the impediment is in the nature
of the water, and intrinsical. So also we say,
he that is tied wants the liberty to go, because
the impediment is not in him, but in his hands;
whereas we say not so of him who is sick or
lame, because the impediment is in himself.”—
(Treatise of Liberty and Necessity.)
According to Bonnet, “ moral liberty is the
power of the mind to obey without constraint Note
the impulse of the motives which act upon it.” ^ and
This definition, which is obviously the same in v^y,
substance with that of Hobbes, is thus very just¬
ly, as well as acutely, animadverted on by Cuvier.
“ N’admettant aucune action sans motif, comme
dit-il, il n’y a aucun effet sans cause, Bonnet
definit la liberte morale le pouvoir de 1’ame tie
suivre sans contrainte les motifs dont elleeprouve
1’impulsion; et resout ainsi les objections que
Ton tire de la prevision de Dieu; mais peut-
etre aussi detournent-t-il 1’idee qu’on se fait
d’ordinaire de la liberte. Malgre ces opinions
que touchent au Materialisme et au Fatalisme,
Bonnet fut tres religieux.”—(Biographic Uni-
verselle, a Paris, 1812. Art. Bonnet.)
From this passage it appears, that the very
ingenious winter was as completely aware as
Clarke or Reid, of the unsoundness of the defi¬
nition of moral liberty given by Hobbes and his
followers; and that the ultimate tendency of the
doctrine which limits the free-agency of man to
(what has been called) the liberty of spontaneity,
was the same, though in a more disguised form,
with that of fatalism.
For a complete exposure of the futility of this
definition of liberty, as the word is employed in
the controversy about man’s free-agency, I have
only to refer to Clarke’s remarks on Collins, and
to Dr Reid’s Essays on the Active Powers of Man.
In this last work, the various meanings of this
very ambiguous word are explained with great
accuracy and clearness.
The only two opinions which, in the actual
state of metaphysical science, ought to be stated
in contrast, are that of Liberty (or free-will) on
the one side, and that of Necessity on the other.
As to the Liberty of Spontaneity (which expresses
a fact altogether foreign to the point in question),
I can conceive no motive for inventing such a
phrase, but a desire in some writers to veil the
scheme of necessity from their readers, under a
language less revolting to the sentiments of
mankind; and, in others, an anxiety to banish
1 “ The doctrine of philosophical necessity,” says Priestley, “ is in reality a modern thing, not older, I believe, than Mr
Hobbes. Of the Calvinists, I believe Mr Jonathan Edwards to be the first.”—{Illustrations of Philosophical Necessity, p-
Supposing this statement to be correct, does not the very modern date of Hobbes’s alleged discovery furnish a very strong
presumption against it ?
DISSERTATION FIRST.
269
it as far as possible from their own thoughts,
by substituting instead of the terms in which
it is commonly expressed, a circumlocution
which seems, on a superficial view, to concede
something to the advocates for liberty.
If this phrase (the Liberty of Spontaneity)
should fall into disuse, the other phrase (the
Liberty of IndifferenceJ,1 which is commonly
stated in opposition to it, would become com¬
pletely useless; nor would there he occasion for
qualifying with any epithet, the older, simpler,
and much more intelligible word, Free-will.
The distinction between physical and moral
necessity I conceive to be not less frivolous than
those to which the foregoing animadversions
relate. Or this point I agree with Diderot,
that the word necessity (as it ought to he under¬
stood in this dispute) admits hut of me interpre¬
tation.
Note N N, p. 148.
To the arguments of Collins, against man’s
free-agency, some of his successors have added,
the inconsistency of this doctrine with the known
effects of education (under which phrase they com¬
prehend the moral effects of all the external cir¬
cumstances in which men are involuntarily
placed) in forming the characters of individuals.
The plausibility of this argument (on which
much stress has been laid by Priestley and others)
arises entirely from the mixture of truth which
it involves; or, to express myself more correctly,
from the evidence and importance of the fact on
which it proceeds, when that fact is stated with
due limitations.
That the influence of education, in this com¬
prehensive sense of the word, was greatly under¬
rated by our ancestors, is now universally ac¬
knowledged; and it is to Locke’s writings,
more than to any other single cause, that the
change in public opinion on this head is to he
ascribed. On various occasions, he has ex¬
pressed himself very strongly with respect to
the extent of this influence ; and has more than
once intimated his belief, that the great majori¬
ty of men continue through life what early edu- Notes
cation had made them. In making use, how- xilusat^ti0n3
ever, of this strong language, his object (as is
evident from the opinions which he has avowed
in other parts of his works) was only to arrest the
attention of his readers to the practical lessons
he was anxious to inculcate; and not to state a
metaphysical fact which was to he literally and
rigorously interpreted in the controversy about
liberty and necessity. The only sound and
useful moral to he drawn from the spirit of his
observations, is the duty of gratitude to Heaven
for all the blessings, in respect of education and
of external situation, which have fallen to om
own lot; the impossibility of ascertaining the
involuntary misfortunes by which the seeming
demerits of others may have been in part occa¬
sioned, and in the same proportion diminished;
and the consequent obligation upon ourselves,
to think as charitably as possible of their con¬
duct, under the most unfavourable appearances.
The truth of all this I conceive to be implied in
these words of Scripture, “To whom much is
given, of him much will be required;” and, if
possible, still more explicitly and impressively,
in the parable of the Talents.
Is not the use which has been made by Ne¬
cessitarians of Locke’s Treatise on Education,
and other books of a similar tendency, only one
instance more of that disposition, so common
among metaphysical Sciolists, to appropriate to
themselves the conclusions of their wiser and
more sober predecessors, under the startling
and imposing disguise of universal maxims, ad¬
mitting neither of exception nor restriction ? It
is thus that Locke’s judicious and refined re¬
marks on the Association of Ideas have been ex¬
aggerated to such an extreme in the coarse cari¬
catures of Hartley and of Priestley, as to bring,
among cautious inquirers, some degree of dis¬
credit on one of the most important doctrines
of modern philosophy. Or, to take another,
case still more in point; it is thus that Locke’s
reflections on the eifects of education in modify¬
ing the intellectual faculties, and (where skil¬
fully conducted) in supplying their original
1 Both phrases are favourite expressions with Lord Karnes in his discussions on this subject. See in particular the Ap¬
pendix to his Essay on Liberty and Necessity, in the last edition of his Essays on Morality and Natural Religion.
270
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes defects, have been distorted into the puerile
Illustrations Para<lox of Helvetius, that the mental capacities
of the whole human race are the same at the
moment of birth. It is sufficient for me here
to throw out these hints, which will be found
to apply equally to a large proportion of other
theories started by modern metaphysicians.
Before I finish this note, I cannot refrain
from remarking, with respect to the argument
for Necessity drawn from the Divine prescience,
that, if it be conclusive, it oidy affords an addi¬
tional confirmation of what Clarke has said
concerning the identity of the creed of the Ne¬
cessitarians with that of the Spinozists. For, if
God certainly foresees all the future volitions
of his creatures, he must, for the same reason,
foresee all his own future volitions; and if this
knowledge infers a necessity of volition in the
one case, how is it possible to avoid the same
inference in the other?
Note 00, p. 149.
The same similitude of the potter makes a con- Notes
spicuous figure in the writings of Hobbes, who j]]u^m,i
has availed himself of this, as of many other in-
sulated passages of Holy Writ, in support of
principles which are now universally allowed
to strike at the very root of religion and mora¬
lity. The veneration of Cowley for Hobbes is
well known, and is recorded by himself in the
ode which immediately precedes that on Des¬
tiny. It cannot, however, be candidly supposed,
that Cowley understood the whole drift of
Hobbes’ doctrines. The contrary, indeed, in
the present instance, is obvious from the ode
before us; for while Cowley supposed the angels
to move, like chess-men, the inhabitants of this
globe, Hobbes (along with Spinoza) plainly-
conceived that the angels themselves, and even
that Being to which he impiously gave the name
of God) were all of them moved, like knights
and pawns, by the invisible hand of fate or ne¬
cessity.
Were it not for the serious and pensive cast
of Cowley’s mind, and his solemn appeal to the
authority of the apostle, in support of the doc¬
trine of destiny, one would be tempted to con¬
sider the first stanzas of this ode in the light of
a jeu d*esprit, introductory to the very charac-
teristical and interesting picture of himself,
with which the poem concludes.
Note PP, p. 150.
“ Tout ce qui est doit etre, par cela meme
que cela est. Voila la seule bonne philosophie.
Aussi longtemps que nous ne connaitrons pas
cet univers, comme on dit dans 1’ecole, a priori,
tout est necessite. La liberte est un mot vide
de sens, comme vous allez voir dans la lettre de
M. Diderot.”—{Lettre de Grimm au Due de
Saxe-Gotha.)
cc C’est ici, mon cher, que je vais quitter le
ton de predicateur pour prendre, si je peux,
celui de philosophe. Regardez-y de pres, et
vous verrez que le mot liberte est un mot vide
de sens; qu’il n’y a point, et qu’il ne peut y
avoir d’etres fibres; que nous ne sommes que
ce qui convient a 1’ordre general, a 1’organisa-
tion, a 1’education, et a la chaine des evenemens.
Voila ce qui dispose de nous invinciblement.
A similar application of St Paul’s comparison
of the potter is to be found both in Hobbes and
in Collins. Also, in a note annexed by Cowley
to his ode entitled Destiny; an ode written (as
we are informed by the author) “ upon an ex¬
travagant supposition of two angels playing a
game at chess; which, if they did, the specta¬
tors would have reason as much to believe that
the pieces moved themselves, as we have for
thinking the same of mankind, when we see
them exercise so many and so different actions.
It was of old said by Plautus, Da nos quasi pitas
homines hahent, “We are but tennis-balls for
the gods to play withal,” which they strike
away at last, and still call for new ones; and
St Paul says, “ We are but the clay in the hand
of the potter d
For the comparison of the potter, alluded to
by these different writers, see the epistle to the
Romans, chap. ix. verses 18, 19, 20, 21. Upon
these verses the only comment which I have to
offer is a remark of the apostle Peter, that “ In
the epistles of our beloved brother Paul are
some things hard to be understood, which they
that are unlearned and unstable wrest unto their
own destruction.”
DISSERTATION FIRST.
271
tes On ne commit non plus qu’un etre agisse sans
d. motif, qu’un des bras d’une balance agisse sans
faction d’un poids, et le motif nous est toujours
exterieur, etranger, attache ou par une nature
on par une cause quelconque, qui n’est pas nous.
Ce qui nous trompe, c’est la prodigieuse variete
de nos actions, jointe a 1’habitude que nous
avons prise tout en naissant, de confondre le
volontaire avec le libre. Nous avons tant lone,
tant repris, nous Pavons ete tant de fois, que
c’est un prejuge bien vieux que celui de croire
que nous et les autres voulons, agissons libre-
ment. Mais s’il n’y a point de liberte, il n’y a
point d’action qui merite la louange ou le blame;
il n’y a ni vice, ni vertu, rien dont il faille re¬
compense!’ ou chatier. Qu’est ce qui distingue
done les homines ? La bienfaisance ou la mal-
faisance. Le malfaisant est un homme qu’il
faut detruire et non punir; la bienfaisance est
une bonne fortune, et non une vertu. Mais
quoique 1’homme bicn ou malfaisant ne soit pas
libre, 1’homme n’en est pas moins un etre qu’on
modifie; c’est par cette raison qu’il faut detruire
le malfaisant sur une place publique. De la les
bons effets de 1’exemple, des discours, de 1’edu¬
cation, du plaisir, de la douleur, des grandeurs,
de la misere, &c.; de la un sorte de philosophic
pleine de commiseration, qui attache fortement
aux bons, qui n’irrite non plus centre le mediant,
que contre un ouragan qui nous remplit les yeux
de poussiere. Il n’y a qu’une sorte de causes a
proprement parler; ce sont les causes physiques.
Il n’y a qu’une sorte de necessite, c’est la meme
pour tons les etres. Voila ce qui me reconcilie
avec le genre humain; c’est pour cette raison
que je vous exhortais a la philanthropic. Adop-
tez ces principes si vous les trouvez bons, ou
montrez-moi qu’ils sont mauvais. Si vous les
adoptez, ils vous reconcilieront aussi avec les
autres et avec vous-meme; vous ne vous saurez
ni bon ni mauvais gre d’etre ce qui vous etes.
Ne rien reprocher aux autres, ne se repentir de
rien; voila les premiers pas vers la sagesse. Ce
qui est hors de la est prejuge, fausse philo-
sophie.”—(Correspondance Litteraire, Philoso-
phique, et Critique, addressee au Due de Saxe-
Gotha, par le Baron De Grimm et par Dide- Notes
rot. Premiere Partie, Tom. I. pp. 300, 304, iiiustrnati0rjs.
305, 306, Londres, 1814.)
Note Q Q, p. 156.
See in Bayle the three articles Luther} Knox,
and Buchanan. The following passage concern¬
ing Knox may serve as a specimen of the others.
It is quoted by Bayle from the Cosmographie
Universelle of The vet, a write* who has long
sunk into the contempt he merited, but whose
zeal for legitimacy and the Catholic faith raised
him to the dignity of almoner to Catherine de
Medicis, and of historiographer to the King of
France. I borrow the translation from the Eng¬
lish Historical Dictionary.
ii During that time the Scots never left Eng¬
land in peace; it was when Henry VIII. played
his pranks with the chalices, relics, and other
ornaments of the English churches; which tra¬
gedies and plays have been acted in our time in
the kingdom of Scotland, by the exhortations of
Noptz,1 the first Scots minister of the bloody
Gospel. This firebrand of sedition could not be
content with barely following the steps of Lu¬
ther, or of his master, Calvin, who had not long
before delivered him from the gallies of the
Prior of Capua, where he had been three years
for his crimes, unlawful amours, and abominable
fornications; for he used to lead a dissolute life,
in shameful and odious places, and had been
also found guilty of the parricide and murder
committed on the body of the Archbishop o! St
Andrew’s, by the contrivances of the Earl of
Rophol, of James Lescle, John Lescle, their
uncle, and William du Coy. This simonist, who
had been a priest of our church, being fattened
by the benefices he had enjoyed, sold them for
ready money; and finding that he could not
make his cause good, he gave himself up to the
most terrible blasphemies. He persuaded also
several devout wives and religious virgins to
abandon themselves to wicked adulterers. Nor
was this all. During two whole years, he never
ceased to rouse the people, encouraging them to
1 Thus Thevet (says Bayle) writes the name of Knox.
272
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes take up arms against the Queen, and to drive
and her out of the kingdom, which he said was
elective, as it had been formerly in the time ox
heathenism The Lutherans have
churches and oratories. Their ministers sing
psalms, and say mass; and though it be different
from ours, yet they add to it the Creed, and
other prayers, as we do. And when their mi¬
nisters officiate, they wear the cope, the cha¬
suble, and the surplice, as ours do, being con¬
cerned for their salvation, and careful of what
relates to the public worship. Whereas the
Scots have lived these twelve years past without
laws, without religion, without ceremonies, con¬
stantly refusing to own a King or a Queen, as
so many brutes, suffering themselves to he im¬
posed upon by the stories told them by this
arch-hypocrite Noptz, a traitor to God and to
his country, rather than to follow the pure Gos¬
pel, the councils, and the doctrine of so many
holy doctors, both Greek and Latin, of the Ca¬
tholic church.”
If any of my readers be yet unacquainted with
the real character and history of this distin¬
guished person, it may amuse them to compare
the above passage with the very able, authentic,
and animated account of his life, lately pub¬
lished by the reverend and learned Dr M‘Crie.
Note R R, p. 161.
Dr Blair, whose estimate of the distinguishing
beauties and imperfections of Addison’s style
reflects honour on the justness and discernment
of his taste, has allowed himself to he carried
along much too easily, by the vulgar sneers at
Addison’s want of philosophical depth. In one
of his lectures on rhetoric he has even gone so
far as to accuse Addison of misapprehending,
or, at least, of mis-stating^ Locke’s doctrine con¬
cerning secondary qualities. But a comparison
of Dr Blair’s own statement with that which he
censures, will not turn out to the advantage of
the learned critic; and I willingly lay hold of
this example, as the point at issue turns on one
of the most refined questions of metaphysics.
The words of Addison are these :—
ec Things would make hut a poor appearance
to the eye, if we saw them only in their proper
figures and motions. And what reason can we es
ideas which are different from anything that ex- ^ x
ists in the objects themselves (for such are light
and colours), were it not to add supernumerary
ornaments to the universe, and make it more
agreeable to the imagination ?”
After quoting this sentence, Dr Blair proceeds
thus:—
“ Our author is now entering on a theory,
which he is about to illustrate, if not with much
philosophical accuracy, yet with great beauty of
fancy and glow of expression. A strong in¬
stance of his want of accuracy appears in the
manner in which he opens the subject. For
what meaning is there in things exciting in us
many of those ideas which are different from any¬
thing that exists in the objects ? No one, sure,
ever imagined that our ideas exist in the objects.
Ideas, it is agreed on all hands, can exist no¬
where but in the mind. What Mr Locke’s phi¬
losophy teaches, and what our author should
have said, is, exciting in us many ideas of qualities
which are different from anything that exists in the
objects^
Let us now attend to Locke’s theory, as
stated by himself:—
“ From whence I think it is easy to draw
this observation, That the ideas of primary qua¬
lities of bodies are resemblances of them, and
their patterns do really exist in the bodies them¬
selves, but the ideas produced in us by these
secondary qualities have no resemblance of them
at all. There is nothing like our ideas existing
in the bodies themselves. They are in the
bodies we denominate from them, only a power
to produce these sensations in us. And what
is sweet, blue, or warm in idea, is but the cer¬
tain bulk, figure, and motion of the insensible
parts in the bodies themselves, which we call
so.”
The inaccuracy of Locke in conceiving that
our ideas of primary qualities are resemblances
of these qualities, and that the patterns of such
ideas exist in the bodies themselves, has been
fully exposed by Dr Reid. But the repetition of
Locke’s inaccuracy (supposing Addison to have
been really guilty of it) should not be charged
upon him as a deviation from his mastei'’s doc-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
273
toes trine. To all, however, who understand the
I nations. suty’ect, ^ must aPPear evident, that Addison
I v has, in this instance, improved greatly on Locke,
by keeping out of view what is most exception¬
able in his language, while he has retained all
that is solid in his doctrine. For my own part,
I do not see how Addison’s expressions could be
altered to the better, except, perhaps, by substi¬
tuting the words unlike to, instead of different
from. But in this last phrase, Addison has been
implicitly followed by Dr Blair, and certainly
would not have been disavowed as an interpre¬
ter by Locke himself. Let me add, that Dr
Blair’s proposed emendation (<c exciting in us
many ideas of qualities, which are different
from any thing that exists in the objects”), if
not wholly unintelligible, deviates much farther
from Locke’s meaning than the correspondent
clause in its original state. The additional
words of qualities throw an obscurity over the
whole proposition, which was before sufficiently
precise and perspicuous.1
My principal reason for offering these remarks
in vindication of Addison’s account of secondary
qualities was, to prepare the way for the sequel
of the passage animadverted on by Dr Blair.
“ We are everywhere entertained with pleas¬
ing shows and apparitions. We discover imagi¬
nary glories in the heavens and in the earth, and
see some of this visionary beauty poured out
upon the whole creation. But what a rough
unsightly sketch of nature should we be enter¬
tained with, did all her colouring disappear, and
the several distinctions of light and shade
vanish ?3 In short, our souls are delightfully
lost and bewildered in a pleasing delusion, and
we walk about like the enchanted hero of a
romance, who sees beautiful castles, woods, and Notes
meadows, and, at the same time, hears the m and.
warbling of birds and the purling of streams;
but, upon the finishing of some secret spell, the
fantastic scene breaks up, and the disconsolate
knight finds himself on a barren heath, or in a
solitary desert.”
In this passage one is at a loss whether most
to admire the author’s depth and refinement of
thought, or the singular felicity of fancy dis¬
played in its illustration. The image of the
enchanted hero is so unexpected, and, at the same
time, so exquisitely appropriate, that it seems
itself to have been conjured up by an enchanter’s
wand. Though introduced with the unpretend¬
ing simplicity of a poetical simile, it has the
effect of shedding the light of day on one of the
darkest corners of metaphysics. Nor is the
language in which it is conveyed unworthy of
the attention of the critic; abounding through¬
out with those natural and happy graces, which
appear artless and easy to all but to those who
have attempted to copy them.
The praise which I have bestowed on Addison
as a commentator on this part of Locke’s Essay
will not appear extravagant to those who may
take the trouble to compare the conciseness and
elegance of the foregoing extracts with the pro¬
lixity and homeliness of the author’s text. (See
Locke’s Essay, Book II. chap. viii. §§ 17, 18.)
It is sufficient to mention here, that his chief
illustration is taken from “ the effects of manna
on the stomach and guts.”
Note S S, p. 168.
For the following note I am indebted to my
1 Another passage, afterwards quoted by Dr Blair, might have satisfied him of the dearness and accuracy of Addison’s
ideas on the subject.
“ I have here supposed that my reader is acquainted with that great modern discovery, which is, at present, universally
acknowledged by all the inquirers into Natural Philosophy; namely, that light and colours, as apprehended by the imagination,
are only ideas in the mind, and not qualities that have any existence in matter. As this is a truth which has been proved
mcontestibly by many modern philosophers, if the English reader would see the notion explained at large, he may find it
1 T vf book of Mr Locke’s Essay on Human Understanding."
f H aVn a^reacbr taken notice (Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol. I. Note P.) of the extraordinary precision
ot the above statement, arising from the clause printed in Italics. By a strange slip of memory I ascribed the merit of this
verj.judicious qualification, not to Addison, but to Dr Akenside, who transcribed it from the Spectator.
ihe last quotation affords me also an opportunity of remarking the correctness of Addison’s information about the his-
ArirT ,this doctl1ne’ "'hich most English writers have conceived to be an original speculation of Locke’s. From some of
Adchson’s expressions, it is more than probable, that he had derived his first knowledge of it from Malebranche.
On the supposition made in this sentence, the face of Nature, instead of presenting a “ rough unsightly sketch,” would,
i is evident, become wholly invisible. But I need scarcely say, this does not render Mr Addison’s allusion less pertinent.
DISS. I. PART II. 2 M
274
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes learned friend Sir William Hamilton, Professor
ant*. of Universal History in the University of Edin-
istrations. J
*-v~**J burgh.
“ The Clavis Universalis of Arthur Collier,
though little known in England, has been trans¬
lated into German. It is published in a work
entitled “ Samlung” &e. &c. literally, “ A Col¬
lection of the most distinguished Authors who
deny the existence of their own bodies, and of
the whole material world,—containing the
dialogues of Berkeley, between Hylas and Phi-
lonous, and Collier’s Universal Key translated,
with Illustrative Observations, and an Appendix,
wherein the existence of Body is demonstrated,
by John Christopher Eschenbach, Professor of
Philosophy in Rostock.” (Rostock, 1756, 8vo.)
The remarks are numerous, and show much
reading. The Appendix contains, 1. An ex¬
position of the opinion of the Idealists, with its
grounds and arguments. 2. A proof of the
external existence of body. The argument on
which he chiefly dwells to show the existence of
matter is the same with that of Dr Reid, in so
far as he says, “ a direct proof must not here be
expected; in regard to the fundamental prin¬
ciples of human nature, this is seldom possible, or
rather is absolutely impossible.” He argues at
length, that the Idealist has no better proof of the
existence of his soul than of the existence of his
body; “ when an Idealist says, lama thinking being ;
of this I am certain from internal conviction ;—I
would ask from whence he derives this certainty,
and why he excludes from this conviction the possi¬
bility of deception ? He has no other answer than
this, I feel it. It is impossible that I can have any
representation of self without the consciousness of
being a thinking being. In the same manner,
Eschenbach argues that the feeling applies to the
existence of body, and that the ground of belief
is equally strong and conclusive, in respect to
the reality of the objective) as of the subjective,
in perception.”
Note TT, p. 182.
“And yet Diderot, in some of his lucid intervals,
seems to have thought and felt very differently^
The following passage (extracted from his
Pensees Philosophiques) is pronounced by La
Harpe to be not only one of the most eloquent Notes
which Diderot has written, but to be one of the ii]usS011
best comments which is any where to be found
on the Cartesian argument for the existence of
God. It has certainly great merit in point of
reasoning; but I cannot see with what propriety
it can be considered as a comment upon the ar¬
gument of Descartes ; nor am I sure if, in point
of eloquence, it be as well suited to the English
as to the French taste.
“ Convenez qu’il y auroit de la folie a refuser
a vos semblables la faculte de penser. Sans
doute, mais que s’ensuit-il de la? 11 s’ensuit,
que si 1’uni vers, que dis-je I’univers, si I’aile
d’un papillon m’oflre des traces mille fois plus
distinctes d’une intelligence que vous n’avez
d’indices que votre semblable a la faculte de
penser, il est mille fois plus fou de nier qu’il
existe un Dieu, que de nier que votre semblahle
pense. Or, que cela soit ainsi, e’est a vos lu-
mieres, e’est a votre conscience que j’en appelle.
Avez-vous jamais remarque dans les raisonne-
mens, les actions, et la conduite de quel que
homme que ce soit, plus d’intelligence, d’ordre,
de sagacite, de consequence, que dans le meca-
nisme d’un insecte ? La divinite n’est elle pas
aussi clairement empreinte dans I’oeil d’un ciron,
que la faculte de penser dans les ecrits du grand
Newton ? Quoi ! le monde forme prouverait
moins d’intelligence, que le monde explique.'1
Quelle assertion ! I’intelligence d’un premier
etre ne m’est pas mieux demontree par ses ou-
vrages, que la faculte de penser dans un philo-
sophe par ses berits? Songez done que je ne
vous objecte que 1’aile d’uu papillon, quand je
pourrais vous ecraser du poids de I’univers.
This, however, was certainly not the creed
which Diderot professed in his more advanced
years. The article, on the contrary, which im¬
mediately follows the foregoing quotation, there
is every reason to think, expresses his real sen¬
timents on the subject. I transcribe it at length,
as it states clearly and explicitly the same argu¬
ment which is indirectly hinted at in a late pub¬
lication by a far more illustrious author.
ii J’ouvre les cahiers d’un philosophe celebre,
et je lis : { Athees, je vous accorde que le mouve-
ment est essentiel a la matiere ; qu’en concluez-
vous? que le monde resulte du jet fortuit da-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
275
lotes tomes ? J’aimerois autant que vous me dissiez
‘nd. que ITliade d’Homere ou la Henriade de Vol-
^ taire est un resultat de jets fortuits de carac-
teres ?’ Je me garderai bien de faire ce raisonne-
ment a un athee. Cette eomparaison lui don-
neroit beau jeu. Selon les lois de Fanalyse des
sorts, me diroit-il, je ne doit etre surpris qu’une
chose arrive, lorsqu’elle est possible, et que la
difficult^ de T^venement est compensee par la
quantite des jets. II y a tels nombre de coups
dans lesquels je gagerois avec avantage d’amener
cent mille six a la fois avec cent mille des.
Quelle que fut la somme finie de caracteres
avec laquelle on me proposeroit d’engendrer
fortuitement 1’Iliade, il y a telle somme finie
de jets qui me rendroit la proposition avanta-
geuse; mon avantage seroit meme infini, si la
quantite de jets accordee etoit infinie,” &c. &c.
—[Pensees Philosophiques, par Diderot, XXI.)
My chief reason for considering this as the
genuine exposition of Diderot’s own creed is,
that he omits no opportunity of suggesting the
same train of thinking in his other works. It
may be distinctly traced in the following pas¬
sage of his Traite du Beau, the substance of
which he has also introduced in the article
Beau of the Encyclopedic.
“ Le beau n’est pas toujours 1’ouvrage d’une
cause intelligente; le mouvement etablit souvent,
soit dans un etre considere solitairement, soit
entre plusieurs etres compares entr’eux, une
multitude prodigieuse de rapports surprenans.
Les cabinets d’histoire naturelle en offrent un
grand nombre d’exemples. Les rapports sont
alors des resultats de combinaisons fortuites, du
moins par rapport a nous. La nature imite en
se jouant, dans cent occasions, les productions Notes
d’art; et Ton pourroit demander, je ne dis pasIllugjrna^ons
si ce philosophe qui fut jete par une tempete
sur les bords d’une He inconnue, avoit raison
de se crier, a la vue de quelque figures de geo¬
metric ; 4 Courage, mes amis, void des pas
d'hommes ;’ mais combien il faudroit remarquer
de rapports dans un etre, pour avoir une certi¬
tude complete qu’il est 1’ouvrage d’un artiste1
(en quelle occasion, un seul defaut de symme¬
tric prouveroit plus que toute somme donnee de
rapports); comment sont entr’eux le temps de
I'action de la cause fortuite, et les rapports ob¬
serves dans les effets produits ; et si (a 1’excep¬
tion des oeuvres du Tout-Puissant)fi il y a des
cas ou le nombre des rapports ne puisse jamais
etre compense par celui des jets.”
With respect to the passages here extracted
from Diderot, it is worthy of observation, that
if the atheistical argument from chances be con¬
clusive in its application to that order of things
which we behold, it is not less conclusive when
applied to every other possible combination of
atoms which imagination can conceive, and
affords a mathematical proof, that the fables of
Grecian mythology, the tales of the genii, and
the dreams of the Rosicrusians, may, or rather
must, all of them, be somewhere or other rea¬
lized in the infinite extent of the universe: a
proposition which, if true, would destroy every
argument for or against any given system of
opinions founded on the reasonableness or the
unreasonableness of the tenets involved in it;
and would, of consequence, lead to the subver¬
sion of the whole frame of the human under¬
standing. 3
1 Is not this precisely the sophistical mode of questioning known among Logicians by the name of Sorites or Acervus ?
u Vitiosum sane,” says Cicero, “ et captiosum genus.”—(Acad. Qucest. Lib. IV. xvi.) , ,
2 To those who enter fully into the spirit of the foregoing reasoning, it is unnecessary to observe, that this parenthetical
clause is nothing better than an ironical salvo. If the argument proves any thing, it leads to this general conclusion, that
the apparent order of the universe affords no evidence whatever of the existence of a designing cause.
3 The atheistical argument here quoted from Diderot is, at least, as old as the time of Epicurus.
Nam certe neque consilio primordia rerum
Ordine se quaeque, atque sagaci mente locarunt
Nec quos quaeque darent motus pepigere profecto;
Sed quia multimodis, multis, mutata, per omne
Ex infinito vexantur percita plagis,
Omne genus motus, et coetus experiundo,
Tandem deveniunt in taleis disposituras,
Qualibus haec rebus consistit summa creata—(LucreT. Lib. I. 1. 1020.)
And still more explicitly in the following lines :
Nam cum respicias immensi temporis omne
Praeteritum spatium; turn motus materialis
Multimodi quam sint; facile hoc adcredere possis,
Semina saepe in eodem, ut nunc sunt, ordine posta.—-(/Aid. Lib. III. 1. 867-)
276
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes Mr Hume, in his Natural History of Religion
Illustrations. (Sect. XL), has drawn an inference from the
internal evidence of the Heathen Mythology, in
favour of the supposition that it may not be al¬
together so fabulous as is commonly supposed.
“ The whole mythological system is so natural,
that in the vast variety of planets and worlds
contained in this universe, it seems more than
probable, that somewhere or other it is really
carried into execution.” The argument of Di¬
derot goes much farther, and leads to an exten¬
sion of Mr Hume’s conclusion to all conceivable
systems, whether natural or not.
But further, since the human mind, and all
the numberless displays of wisdom and of power
which it has exhibited, are ultimately to be re¬
ferred to a fortuitous concourse of atoms, why
might not the Supreme Being, such as we are
commonly taught to regard him, have been
Himself (as well as the Gods of Epicurus)1 the
result of the continued operation of the same
blind causes ? or rather, must not such a Being
have necessarily resulted from these causes ope¬
rating from all eternity, through the immensity
of space ?—a conclusion, by the way, which, ac¬
cording to Diderot’s own principles, would lead
us to refer the era of his origin to a period inde¬
finitely more remote than any given point of
time which imagination can assign; or, in other
words, to a period to which the epithet eternal
may with perfect propriety be applied. The
amount, therefore, of the whole matter is this,
that the atheistical reasoning, as stated by Di¬
derot, leaves the subject of natural, and, I may
add, of revealed religion, precisely on the same
footing as before, without invalidating, in the
very smallest degree, the evidence for any one
of the doctrines connected with either; nay
more, superadding to this evidence, a mathema¬
tical demonstration of the possible truth of all
those articles of belief which it was the ob¬
ject of Diderot to subvert from their founda¬
tion. r
It might be easily shown, that these prin¬
ciples, if pushed to their legitimate consequences,
instead of establishing the just authority of rea¬
son in our constitution, would lead to the most Notes
unlimited credulity on all subjects whatever;
or (what is only another name for the same '^v>^
thing) to that state of mind, which, in the words
of Mr Hume, “ does not consider any one pro¬
position as more certain, or even as more pro¬
bable, than another.”
The following curious and (in my opinion)
instructive anecdote has a sufficient connection
with the subject of this note, to justify me in
subjoining it to the foregoing observations. I
transcribe it from the Notes annexed to the
Abbe de Lille’s poem entitled La Conversation.
(A Paris, 1812.)
“ Dans la society du Baron d’Holbach, Dide¬
rot proposa un jour de nommer un avocat de
Dieu, et on choisit 1’Abbe Galiani. II s’assit et
debuta ainsi: ,
“ Un jour a Naples, un homme de la Basili-
cate prit devant nous, six des dans un cornet,
et paria d’amener rafle de six. Je dis cette
chance etoit possible. II I’amena sur le champ
une seconde fois; je dis la meme chose. II re¬
mit les des dans le cornet trois, quatre, cinq
fois, et to uj ours rafle de six. Sangue di Bacco,
m’ecriai-je, les des sont pipes ; et ils 1’etpient.
“ Philosophes, quand je considere Pordre
toujours renaissant de la nature, ses lois immu-
ables, ses revolutions toujours constantes dans
une variete infinie; cette chance unique et con-
servatrice d’un univers tel que nous le voyons,
qui revient sans cesse, malgre cent autres mil¬
lions de chances de perturbation et de destruc¬
tion possibles, je m’ecrie: certes la nature est
olfemtBU iroMla'f nl oh
The argument here stated strikes me as irre¬
sistible ; nor ought it at all to weaken its effect,
that it was spoken by the mouth of the Abbe
LGaUaiu.qj3 inomoliyt s v!i nO Xorretefa1^
Whatever his own professed principles may
have been, this theory of the loaded die appears
evidently, from the repeated allusions to it in
his familiar correspondence, to have produced a
very deep impression on his mind.—(See Corre-
spondance inedite de PAbbe Galiani, &c. Vol. I.
pp. 18, 42, 141, 142, a Paris, 1818.)
1 Cic. de Nat. Dear. Lib. I. XXIV.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
277
] es As the old argument of the atomical atheists
\ is plainly that on which the school of Diderot
Hlu< tioni. r ^
are still disposed to rest the strength of their
cause, I shall make no apology for the length of
this note. The sceptical suggestions on the same
subject which occur in Mr Hume’s Essay on the
Idea of Necessary Connection, and which have
given occasion to so much discussion in this
country, do not seem to me to have ever pro¬
duced any considerable impression on the French
philosophers.
Note U U, p. 182.
Among the contemporaries of Diderot, the
author of the Spirit of Laws is entitled to parti¬
cular notice, for the respect with which he al¬
ways speaks of natural religion. A remarkable
instance of this occurs in a letter to Dr War-
burton, occasioned by the publication of his
View of BolingbrokVs Philosophy. The letter, it
must be owned, savours somewhat of the politi¬
cal religionist; but how fortunate would it have
been for France, if, during its late revolutionary
governments, such sentiments as those here ex¬
pressed by Montesquieu had been more gene¬
rally prevalent among his countrymen ! <c Celui
qui attaque la religion rev^lee n’attaque que la re¬
ligion revelee; mais celui qui attaque la religion
naturelleattaquetouteslesreligionsdumonde....
II n’est pas impossible d’attaquer une religion
revelee, parce qu’elle existe par des faits parti-
culiers, et que les faits par lewr nature peuvent
etre une matiere de dispute ; mais il n’en est
pas de meme de la religion naturelle; elle est
tiree de la nature de I’homme, dont on ne pent
pas disputer encore. J’ajoute a ceci, quel peut
etre le motif d’attaquer la religion revelee en
Angleterre r1 On l’y a teilement purge de tout
prejuge destructeur qu’elle n’y peut faire de mal
et qu’elle y peut faire, au contraire, une infinite
de biens. Je sais, qu’un homme en Espagne ou
en Portugal que 1’on va bruler, ou qui craint
d etre brule, parce qu’il ne croit point de cer¬
tains articles dependans ou non de la religion
revelee, a un juste sujet de 1’attaquer, parce
qu il peut avoir quelque esperance de pourvoir a
sa defense naturelle : mais il n’en est pas de
meme en Angleterre, ou tout homme qui attaque
la religion reve!6e 1’attaque sans interet, et ou Notes
cet homme, quand il reussiroit, quand meme illustrations
il auroit raison dans le fond, ne feroit que de-
truire une infinite de biens pratiques, pour
6tablir une verite purement sp6culative.”—(For
the whole letter, see the 4to edit, of Montes¬
quieu’s Works. Paris, ITSS. Tome V. p. 391.
Also Warburton’s Works by Hurd, Vol. VII. p.
553. London, 1758.)
In the foregoing passage, Montesquieu hints
more explicitly than could well have been ex¬
pected from a French magistrate, at a considera¬
tion which ought always to be taken into the
account, in judging of the works of his country¬
men, when they touch on the subject of reli¬
gion ; I mean, the corrupted and intolerant
spirit of that system of faith which is imme¬
diately before their eyes. The eulogy bestowed
on the church of England is particularly deserv¬
ing of notice, and should serve as a caution to
Protestant writers against making common
cause with the defenders of the church of Rome.
With respect to Voltaire, who, amidst all his
extravagancies and impieties, is well known to
have declared open war against the principles
maintained in the Systeme de la Nature, it is re¬
marked by Madame de Stael, that two different
epochs may be distinguished in his literary life;
the one, while his mind was warm from the
philosophical lessons he had imbibed in Eng¬
land ; the other, after it became infected with
those extravagant principles which, soon after
his death, brought a temporary reproach on the
name of Philosophy. As the observation is ex¬
tended by the very ingenious writer to the
French nation in general, and draws a line be¬
tween two classes of authors who are frequently
confounded together in this country, I shall
transcribe it in her own words.
“ Il me semble qu’on pourroit marquer dans
le dix-huitieme siecle, en France, deux epoques
parfaitement distinctes, celle dans laquelle 1’in-
fluence de 1’Angleterre s’est fait sentir, et celle
ou les esprits se sont precipites dans la destruc¬
tion : Alors les lumieres se sont changees en in-
cendie, et la philosophic, magicienne irritee, a
consume le palais ou elle avoit etale ses pro-
diges.
“ En politique, Montesquieu appartient a la
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
premiere epoque, Raynal a la seconde ; en reli¬
gion) les ecrits de Voltaire, qui avoit la tolerance
pour but, sont inspires par I’esprit de la pre¬
miere moitie du siecle 5 mais sa miserable et
vaniteuse irreligion a fletri la seconde. (D6
VAllemagne, Tome III. pp. 37, 38.)
Nothing, in truth, can be more striking than
the contrast between the spirit of Voltaire’s ear¬
ly and of his later productions. From the for¬
mer may be quoted some of the sublimest sen¬
timents anywhere to be found, both of religion
and of morality. In some of the latter, he appears
irrecoverably sunk in the abyss of fatalism.
Examples of both are so numerous, than one is
at a loss in the selection. In making choice of
the following, I am guided chiefly by the com¬
parative shortness of the passages.
« Consulte Zoroastre et Minos, et Solon,
Et le sage Socrate, et le grand Ciceron:
Ils ont adore' tons un maitre, un juge, un p£re
Ce systeme sublime a I’homme est ne'cessaire.
C’est le sacrd lien de la societe,
Le premier fondement de la sainte ^quitd;
Le frein du scdlerat, 1’e'sperance du juste.
Si les cieux, depouillds de leur empreinte auguste,
Pouvoient cesser jamais de le manifester,
Si Dieu n’existoit pas, il faudroit 1’inventer.”1
Nor is it only on this fundamental principle
of religion that Voltaire, in his better days, de¬
lighted to enlarge. The existence of a natural
law engraved on the human heart, and the li¬
berty of the human will, are subjects which he
has repeatedly enforced and adorned with all
his philosophical and poetical powers. What
can be more explicit, or more forcible, than the
following exposition of the inconsistencies of
fatalism ?
“ Yois de la liberty cet ennemi mutin,
Aveugle partisan d’un aveugle destin;
Entends comme il consulte, approuve, ou d&ibere,
Entends de quel reproche il couvre un adversaire,
Vois comment d’un rival il cherehe a se venger,
Comme il punit son fils, et le veut corriger.
Il le croyoit done fibre ?—Oui sans doute, et lui-meme
Dement a chaque pas son funeste systeme.
Il mentoit a son cceur, en voulant expliquer
Ce dogme absurde a croire, absurde a pratiquer.
Il reconnoit en lui le sentiment qu’il brave,
Il agit comme fibre et parle comme esclave.”8
This very system, however, which Voltaire
has here so severely reprobated, he lived to avow
as the creed of his more advanced years. The
words, indeed, are put into the mouth of a fic¬
titious personage ; but it is plain, that the writer
meant to be understood as speaking his own
sentiments. “ Je vois une chaine immense,
dont tout est chainon; elle embrasse, elle serre
aujourd’hui la nature,” &c. &c.
“ Je suis done ramene malgre moi a cette
ancienne idee, que je vois etre la base de tons
les systemes, dans laquelle tous les philosophes
retombent apres mille detours, et qui m’est de-
montre par toutes les actions des hommes, par
les miennes, par tous les evenemens que j’ai Ins,
que j’ai vus, et aux-quelles j’ai eu part; c’est le
Fatalisme, c’est la Necessite dont je vous ai deja
parle.”—(Lettres de Memmius d Ciceron. See
CEuvres de Voltaire, Melanges^ Tome IV. p.
358. 4to. Edit. Geneve, 1771.)
“ En effet” (says Voltaire, in another of his
pieces), il seroit bien singulier que toute la na¬
ture, tous les astres, obe'issent a des lois eter-
nelles, et qu’il y eut un petit animal haut de
cinq pieds, qui au mepris de ces lois put agir
toujours comme il lui plairoit au seul gre de son
caprice.”
.... .To this passage Voltaire adds the fol¬
lowing acknowledgment:—“ L’ignorant qui
pense ainsi n’a pas toujours pense de meme,
mais il est enfin contraint de se rendre.”—(Le
Philosophe Ignorant.)
Notwithstanding, hoWever, this change in
1 A thought approaching very nearly to this occurs in one of Tillotson’s Sermons. “ The being of God is so comfortable,
so convenient, so necessarv to the felicity of mankind, that (as Tully admirably says) Bit immortales ad usum hominum fatrn-
eati pene videantur. If God were not a necessary being of himself, he might almost be said to be made for the use ana
benefit of Man.” For some ingenious remarks on this quotation from Cicero, see Jortin’s Vol. I. p* ^71*
2 These verses form a part of a Discourse on the Liberty of Man; and the rest of the poem is in the same strain. ^e ,.
very imperfectly did Voltaire even then understand the metaphysical argument on this subject, that he prefixed o
Discourse the following advertisement. “ On entend par ce mot liberte, le pouvoir de faire ce qu’on veut. Il n y e
peut y avoir d’autre libertt” It appears, therefore, that in maintaining the liberty ofspontancity, Voltaire conceived “ltns ,
to be combating the scheme of Necessity; whereas this sort of liberty, no Necessitarian or Fatalist was ever hardy enoug
3 In proof of this he refers to his Treatise of Metaphysics, written forty years before, for the use of Madame du Chatelet.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
279
s g Voltaire’s philosophical opinions, he continued
i the last his zealous opposition to atheism.1
Il!us ions •n w}iat respects it is more pernicious than
fatalism, it is not easy to discover.
A reflection of La Harpe’s, occasioned by
some strictures of Voltaire’s upon Montesquieu,
applies with equal force to the numberless in¬
consistencies which occur in his metaphysical
speculations: “ Les objets de meditation etoient
trop etrangers a 1’excessive vivacite de son esprit.
Saisir fortement par ^imagination les objets
qu’elle ne doit montrer que d’un cote, c’est ce
qui est du Poete; les embrasser sous toutes les
faces, c’est ce qui est du Philosophe, et Vol¬
taire etoit trop exclusivement 1’un pour etre
I’autre.”—(Cours de Litterat. Tome XV. pp.
46, 47.)
A late author 2 has very justly reprobated
that spiritual deification of nature which has been
long fashionable among the French, and which,
according to his own account, is at present not
unfashionable in Germany. It is proper, how¬
ever, to observe, that this mode of speaking has
been used by two very different classes of wri¬
ters ; by the one with an intention to keep as
much as possible the Deity out of their view,
while studying his works; by the other, as a
convenient and well understood metaphor, by
means of which the frequent and irreverent
mention of the name of God is avoided in philo¬
sophical arguments. It was with this last view,
undoubtedly, that it was so often employed by
Newton, and other English philosophers of the
same school. In general, when we find a wri¬
ter speaking of the wise or of the benevolent in¬
tentions of nature, we should be slow in imput¬
ing to him any leaning towards atheism. Many
of the finest instances of Final Causes, it is cer¬
tain, which the eighteenth century has brought
to light, have been first remarked by inquirers
who seem to have been fond of this phraseology;
and of these inquirers, it is possible that some
would have been less forward in bearing testi¬
mony to the truth, had they been forced to avail
themselves of the style of theologians. These
speculations, therefore, concerning the intentions Notes
or designs of Nature, how reprehensible soever illustrations,
and even absurd in point of strict logic the lan¬
guage may be in which they are expressed, may
often be, nay, have often been, a step towards
something higher and better; and, at any rate,
are of a character totally different from the blind
chance of the Epicureans, or the conflicting
principles of the Manicheans.
Note XX, p. 195.
“ In the attempt, indeed, which Kant has made
to enumerate the general ideas which are not de¬
rived from experience, but arise out of the pure un¬
derstanding, Kant may well lay claim to the praise
of originality.” The object of this problem is
thus stated by his friend, Mr Schulze, the au¬
thor of the Synopsis formerly quoted. (The fol¬
lowing translation is by Dr Willich, Elements,
&c. p. 45.)
“ To investigate the whole store of original
notions discoverable in our understanding, and
which lie at the foundation of all our knowledge;
and at the same time to authenticate their true
descent, by showing that they are not derived
from experience, but are pure productions of the
understanding.
“ 1. The perceptions of objects contain, in¬
deed, the matter of knowledge, but are in them¬
selves blind and dead, and not knowledge; and
our soul is merely passive in regard to them.
“ 2. If these perceptions are to furnish know¬
ledge, the understanding must think of them,
and this is possible only through notions (con¬
ceptions), which are the peculiar form of our
understanding, in the same manner as space and
time are the form of our sensitive faculty.
“ 3. These notions are active representations
of our understanding-faculty; and as they re¬
gard immediately the perceptions of objects, they
refer to the objects themselves only mediately.
“ 4. They lie in our understanding as pure
notions a priori, at the foundation of all our
knowledge. They are necessary forms, radical
iij .Joe
/a giefj
rrldi!
r no'np oo oiiB!
nloY
UF
nO
; See the Diet. Philosophic Art. Atteisme. See also the Strictures on the Systhne de la Nature in the Question* sur VEn-
cyclopfdie; the very work from which the above quotation is taken.
9 Frederick Schlegel# Lectures on the History of Literature, Vol. II» p* 169. Edinburgh^ 1818.
280
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes
and
Illustrations.
notions, categories (predicaments), of which all
our knowledge of them must he compounded:
And the table of them follows.
f< Quantity ; unity, plurality, totality.
t£ Quality; reality, negation, limitation.
“ Helation ; substance, cause, recipi’ocation.
<£ Modality ; possibility, existence, necessity.
££ 5. Now, to think and to judge is the same
thing; consequently, every notion contains a
particular form of judgment concerning objects.
There are four principal genera of judgments:
They are derived from the above four possible
functions of the understanding, each of which
contains under it three species ; namely, with re¬
spect to
££ Quantity, they are universal, particular, sin¬
gular judgments.
££ Quality, they are affirmative, negative, in¬
finite judgments.
££ Relation, they are categorical, hypothetical,
disjunctive judgments.
££ Modality, they are problematical, assertory,
apodictical judgments.”
These tables speak for themselves without
any comment.
Note YY, p. 195.
Kant’s notions of Time are contained in the
following seven propositions: 1. Idea temporis
non oritur sed supponitur a sensibus. 2. Idea tem¬
poris est singularis, non generalis. Tempus enim
quodlibet non cogitatur, nisi tanquam pars uni us
ejusdem temporis immensi. 3. Idea itaque tem¬
poris est intuitus, et quoniam ante omnem sensa-
tionem concipitur, tanquam conditio respectuum
in sensibilibus obviorum, est intuitus, non sen¬
sual is, sed purus. 4. Tempus est quantum conti¬
nuum et legum continui in mutationibus universi
principium. 5. Tempus non est ohjectivum aliquid
etreale, nec substantia, nec accidens, necrelatio, sed
subjectiva conditio, per naturam mentis humanse
necessaria, quselibet sensibilia, certa lege sibi co-
ordinandi, et intuitus purus. 6. Tempus est
conceptus verissimus, et, per omnia possibilia
sensuum objecta, in infinitum patens, intuitivce
reprsesentationis conditio. 7. Tempus itaque est
principium formate mundi sensibilis absolute pri-
mum.”
With respect to Space, Kant states a series of
similar propositions, ascribing to it very nearly
the same metaphysical attributes as to Time, and
running as far as possible a sort of parallel be¬
tween them. ££ A. Conceptus spatii non abstrahi-
tur a sensationibus externis. B. Conceptus spatii
est singularis reprcesentatio omnia in se compre-
hendens, non sub se continens notio abstracta et
communis. C. Conceptus spatii itaque est intuitus
purus; cum sit conceptus singularis; sensa¬
tionibus non conflatus, sed omnis sensationis ex-
ternae forma fundamentalis. D. Spatiim nm
est aliquid objectivi et realis, nec substantia,
nec accidens, nec relatio; sed subjectivum et
ideale, e natura mentis stabili lege proficiscens,
veluti schema, omnia omnino externe sensa sibi
co-ordinandi. E. Quanquam conceptus spatii,
ut objectivi alicujus et realis entis vel affectio-
nis, sit imaginarius, nihilo tamen secius respec¬
tive ad sensibilia qucecunque, non solum est ve¬
rissimus, sed et omnis veritatis in sensualitate
externa fundamentum.”
These propositions are extracted from a Dis¬
sertation written by Kant himself in the Latin
language.1 Their obscurity, therefore, cannot
be ascribed to any misapprehension on the part
of a translator. It was on this account that I
thought it better to quote them in his own un¬
altered words, than to avail myself of the cor¬
responding passage in Born’s Latin version of
the Critique of Pure Reason.
To each of Kant’s propositions concerning
Time and Space I shall subjoin a short com¬
ment, following the same order in which these
propositions are arranged above.
1. That the idea of Time has no resemblance
to any of our sensations, and that it is, therefore,
not derived from sensation immediately and di¬
rectly, has been very often observed; and if
nobody had ever observed it, the fact is so very
obvious, that the enunciation of it could not en¬
title the author to the praise of much ingenuity.
Whether ££ this idea be supposed in all our sen-
Note
and
Wustrat
. * Pe. Muiuli ScnsUnlis tztque IntdligpnUs forma et prinapiis. Dissertatio pro loco professionis Log. et Metaph. Ordinariac
rite sibi Yindicando ; quam exigentibus statutis Academicis publice tuebitur Immanuel Kant liegiomonti, ITJO.
DISSERTATION FIRST.
28]
tes
d
itions
sations,” or (as Kant explains liimself more
clearly in his third proposition) “ he conceived
by the mind prior to all sensation,” is a ques¬
tion which seems to me at least doubtful; nor
do I think the opinion we form concerning it a
matter of the smallest importance. One thing
is certain, that this idea is an inseparable con¬
comitant of every act of memory with respect
to past events; and that, in whatever way it is
acquired, we are irresistibly led to ascribe to
the thing itself an existence independent of the
will of any being whatever.
2. On the second proposition I have nothing
to remark. The following is the most intelli¬
gible translation of it that I can give. “ The
idea of Time is singular, not general; for any
particular length of Time can be conceived only
as a part of one and the same immense whole.”
3. From these premises (such as they are)
Kant concludes, that the idea of time is intui¬
tive ; and that this intuition, being prior to the
exercise of the senses, is not empirical but pure.
The conclusion here must necessarily partake
of the uncertainty of the premises from which
it is drawn; but the meaning of the author does
not seem to imply any very erroneous principle.
It amounts, indeed, to little more than an ex¬
planation of some of his peculiar terms.
4. That Time is a continued quantity is indis¬
putable. To the latter clause of the sentence I
can annex no meaning but this, that time enters
as an essential element into our conception of
the law of continuity, in all its various applica¬
tions to the changes that take place in Nature.
5. In this proposition Kant assumes the truth
of that much contested, and, to me, incompre¬
hensible doctrine, which denies the objective
reality of time. He seems to consider it merely
as a subjective condition, inseparably connected
with the frame of the Human Mind, in conse¬
quence of which it arranges sensible phenomena,
according to a certain law, in the order of suc¬
cession.
t>. What is meant by calling Time a true con¬
ception, I do not profess to understand; nor am
I able to interpret the remainder of the sentence
in any way but this, that we can find no limits
to the range thus opened in our conceptions to
the succession of sensible events.
diss. i. PART II.
7. The conclusion of the whole matter is, that
Time is “ absolutely the first formal principle
of the sensible world.” I can annex no mean¬
ing to this; but I have translated the original,
word for word, and shall leave my readers ta
their own conjectures.
Notes
and
Illustrations.
A. It appears from this, that, in the opinion
of Kant, the idea of Space is connate with the
mind, or at least, that it is prior to any infor¬
mation received from the senses. But this doc¬
trine seems to me not a little doubtful. Indeed,
I rather lean to the common theory, which sup¬
poses our first ideas of Space or Extension to be
formed by abstracting this attribute from the
other qualities of matter. The idea of Space,
however, in whatever manner formed, is mani¬
festly accompanied with an irresistible convic¬
tion, that Space is necessarily existent, and that
its annihilation is impossible; nay, it appears to
me to be also accompanied with an irresistible
conviction, that Space cannot possibly be ex¬
tended in more than three dimensions. Call
either of these propositions in question, and you
open a door to universal scepticism.
B. I can extract no meaning from this, but
the nugatory proposition, that our conception of
Space leads us to consider it as the place in
which all things are comprehended.
C. “ The conception of Space, therefore, is a
pure intuition.” This follows as a necessary co¬
rollary (according to Kant’s own definition)
from Prop. A. What is to be understood by
the clause which asserts, that Space is the fun¬
damental of every external sensation, it is
not easy to conjecture. Does it imply merely
that the conception of Space is necessarily in¬
volved in all our notions of things external ? In
this case, it only repeats over, in different and
most inaccurate terms, the last clause of Prop. B.
What can be more loose and illogical than the
phrase external sensation ?
D. That Space is neither a substance, nor an
accident, nor & relation, may be safely granted;
but does it follow from this that it is nothing
objective, or, in other words, that it is a mere
creature of the imagination ? This, however,
would seem to be the idea of Kant; and yet I
2 N
282
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes cannot reconcile it with what he says in Prop.
Illustrations. E*> that the conception of Space is the founda-
tion of all the truth we ascribe to our percep¬
tions of external objects. (The author’s own
words are—“ omnis veritatis in sensualitate ex¬
terna fundamentum !”)1
Upon the whole, it appears to me, that, among
these various propositions, there are some which
are quite unintelligible; that others assume, as
first principles, doctrines which have been dis¬
puted by many of our most eminent philoso¬
phers ; that others, again, seem to aim at in¬
volving plain and obvious truths in darkness
and mystery; and that not one is expressed
with simplicity and precision, which are the na¬
tural results of clear and accurate thinking. In
considering time and space as the forms of all
sensible phenomena, does Kant mean any thing
more but this,—that we necessarily refer every
sensible phenomenon to some point of space, or
to some instant of time? If this was really his
meaning, he has only repeated over, in obscurer
language, the following propositions of Newton ;
“ Ut ordo partium temporis est immutabilis, sic
etiam ordo partium spatii. Moveantur hsec de
locis suis, ct movebuntur (ut ita dicam) de
seipsis. Nam tempera et spatia sunt sui ipsorum
et rerum omnium quasi loca. In tempore, quoad
ordinem successionis; in spatio, quoad ordinem
situs locantur universa. De illorum essentia est
ut sint loca: et loca primaria moveri absur-
dum est.”
I have quoted this passage, not from any de¬
sire of displaying the superiority of Newton
over Kant, but chiefly to show how very nearly
the powers of the former sink to the same level
with those of the latter, when directed to inqui¬
ries unfathomable by the human faculties.
What abuse of words can be greater than to say,
That neither the parts of time nor the parts of Notes
space can be moved from their places?* In the
Principia of Newton, however, this incidental '^-vv
discussion is but a spot on the sun. In the
Critique of Pure Reason, it is a fair specimen of
the rest of the work, and forms one of the chief
pillars of the whole system, both metaphysical
and moral.
Note Z Z, p. 196.
The following quotation will account for the
references which I have made to Mr Nitsch
among the expounders of Kant’s Philosophy.
It will also serve to show that the Critique of
Pure Reason has still some admirers in England,
not less enthusiastic than those it had formerly
in Germany.
“ In submitting this fourth Treatise on the
Philosophy of Kant to the reader” (says the
author of these articles in the Encyclopedia
Londinensis), “ I cannot deny myself the satis-
faetion of publicly acknowledging the great as¬
sistance which I have derived in my literary pur¬
suits, from my excellent and highly valued friend
Mr Henry Richter. To him I am indebted for
the clearness and perspicuity with which the
thoughts of the immortal Kant have been con¬
veyed to the public. Indeed, his comprehensive
knowledge of the system, as well as his enthusi¬
astic admiration of its general truth, render him
a most able and desirable co-operator. Should,
therefore, any good result to mankind from our
joint labours in the display of this vast and pro¬
found system, he is justly entitled to his share
of the praise. It is with sincere pleasure that I
reflect upon that period, now two and twenty
years ago, when we first studied together under
the same master, Frederic Augustus Nitsch, who
1 Mr Nitsch has remarked this difficulty, and has attempted to remove it. “ The most essential objection (he observes)
to Kant’s system is, that it leads to scepticism; because it maintains, that the figures in which we see the external objects
clothed are’not inherent in those objects, and that consequently space is something within, and not -without the mind,
(pp. 144, 145.) “ It may be further objected (he adds), that, if there be no external space, there is also no external world.
But this is concluding by far too much from these premises- If there be no external space, it will follow, that we are not
authorised to assign extemion to external things, but there will follow no more.” (p- 141).) Mr Nitsch then proceeds to
obviate these objections ; but his reply is far from satisfactory, and is indeed not less applicable to the doctrine ot Berkeley
than to that of Kant. This point, however, I do not mean to argue here. The concessions which Nitsch has made are
quite sufficient for my present purpose. They serve at least to satisfy my own mind, that I have not misrepresented
Kant’s meaning
2 Was it not to avoid the palpable incongruity of this language that Kant was led to substitute the word forms instead o
places ; the former word not seeming to be so obviously inapplicable as the latter to time and space in common ; or, to speak
more correctly, being, from its extreme vagueness, equally unmeaning when applied to both ?
DISSERTATION FIRST.
283
I es originally imported the seeds of Transcenden-
tal Philosophy from its native country, to
^ plant them in our soil; and though, as is usually
the case, many of those seeds were scattered by
the wind, I trust that a sufficient number have
taken root to maintain the growth of this vigo¬
rous and flourishing plant, till the time shall come,
when, by its general cultivation, England may
be enabled to enrich other nations with the most
perfect specimens of its produce. Professor
Nitsch, who thus bestowed upon our country her
first attainments in the department of Pure
Science, has paid the debt of nature. I confess
it is some reflection upon England, that she did
not foster and protect this immediate disciple of
the father of philosophy; but the necessities of
this learned and illustrious man unfortunately
compelled him to seek that subsistence else¬
where, which was withheld from him here. At
Rostock, about the year 1813, this valuable
member of society, and perfect master of the
philosophy he undertook to teach, entered upon
his immortal career as a reward for his earthly
services. It is with the most heartfelt satisfac¬
tion that I add my mite of praise to his revered
memory. But for him, I might ever have re¬
mained in the dark regions of sophistry and un¬
certainty.”
Note A A A, p. 201.
Among the secondary mischiefs resulting from
the temporary popularity of Kant, none is more
to be regretted than the influence of his works
on the habits, both of thinking and of writing,
of some very eminent men, who have since given
to the world histories of philosophy. That of
Tenneman in particular (a work said to possess
great merit) would appear to have been vitiated
by this unfortunate bias in the views of its
author. A very competent judge has said of it,
that “ it affords, as far as it is completed, the
most accurate, the most minute, and the most
rational view we yet possess of the different
systems of philosophy; but that the critical
philosophy being chosen as the vantage ground
from whence the survey of former systems is
taken, the continual reference in Kant’s own
language to his peculiar doctrines, renders it
frequently impossible for those who have not Notes
studied the dark works of this modern Heracli- xiius!r^ion
tus to understand the strictures of the historian
on the systems even of Aristotle or Plato.”
(See the article Brucker in the Encyclo-
pcedia Britannica, 7th Ed.) We are told by
the same writer, that “ among the learned of
Germany, Brucker has never enjoyed a very
distinguished reputation.” This I can very
easily credit; but I am more inclined to in¬
terpret it to the disadvantage of the German
taste, than to that of the historian. Brucker is
indeed not distinguished by any extraordinary
measure of depth or of acuteness ; but in indus¬
try, fidelity, and sound judgment, he has few
superiors; qualities of infinitely greater value
in the undertaker of a historical work, than that
passion for systematical refinement, which is so
apt to betray the best-intentioned writers into
false glosses on the opinions they record.
When the above passage was written, I had
not seen the work of Buhle. I have since had
an opportunity of looking into the French trans¬
lation of it, published at Paris in 1816; and I
must frankly acknowledge, that I have seldom
met with a greater disappointment. The account
there given of the Kantian system, to which I
turned with peculiar eagerness, has, if possible,
involved to my apprehension, in additional ob¬
scurity, that mysterious doctrine. From this,
however, I did not feel myself entitled to form
an estimate of the author’s merits as a philo¬
sophical historian, till I had read some other
articles of which I considered myself better
qualified to judge. The following short extract
will, without the aid of any comment, enable
such of my readers as know anything of the
literary history of Scotland, to form an opinion
upon this point for themselves.
“ Reid n’attaqua les systemes de ses predeces-
seurs et notamment celui de Hume, que parce
qu’il se croyait convaincu de leur defaut de
fondement. Mais un autre antagoniste, non
moins celebre, du scepticisme de Hume, fut, en
outre, guide par la haine qu’il avoit vouee a son
illustre compatriote, lequel Ini repondit avec beau-
coup d'aigreur et d'animosite. James Beattie,
284
preliminary dissertations.
Notes professeur de morale d JEdimbourg, puis ensuite, tie
and logique et de morale a I’Univei'site d Abeideen,
Illustratio^ 0foin£ ia preference sur Hume lorsquHl fat question
de remplir la chaire vacante d Edimbourg. Cette
circonstance devint sans doute la principale source
de 1’inimitie que les deux savaus couciuent 1 un
pour 1’autre, et qui influa meme sur le ton qu’ils
employerent dans les raisonnemens pai lesquels
ils se combattirent.”—(Tome V. p. 235.)
To this quotation may I be pardoned for
adding a few sentences relative to myself i
L’ouvrage de Dugald Stewart, intitule. Ele¬
ments of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, est
un syncretisme des opinions de Hartley et de
Reid. Stewart borne absolument la connois-
sance, tant de I’ame que des cboses exteiieuies,
a ce que le sens commun nous en apprend, et
croit pouvoir ainsi mettre I’etude de la meta¬
physique a I’abri du reproche de rouler sur des
cboses qui depassent la sphere de notre intelli¬
gence, ou qui sont tout-a-fait inutiles dans la
pratique de la vie Les chapitres suivans
renferment le developpement du principe de
I’associatlon des idees. Ils sont presqu entiere-
ment ecrits d’apres Hartley. Stewart fait de¬
river de ce principe toutes les facultes intellec-
tuelles et pratiques de 1’homme.”—(Tom. V.
pp. 830, 331.)
Of the discrimination displayed by Ruble in
the classification of systems and of authors, the
title prefixed to his 19th chapter may serve as
a specimen : ii Philosophy of Condillac, of Helle-
tius, of Baron d' Holbach, of Ilobinet, of Bonnet,
of Montesquieu, of Burlemaqui, of Vattel, and of
Reid.”
But the radical defect of Ruble’s work is, the
almost total want of references to original au¬
thors. We are presented only with the general
results of the author’s reading, without any
guide to assist us in confirming his conclusions
when right, or in correcting them when wiong.
This circumstance is of itself sufficient to anni¬
hilate the value of any historical composition.
Sismondi, in mentioning the history of mo¬
dern literature by Bouterwek, takes occasion to
pay a compliment (and, I have no doubt, a very
deserved one) to German scholars in general ;
observing, that he has executed his task—“ avec
une etendue d’erudition, et une loyaute dans la
maniere d’en faire profiter ses lecteurs, qui No
semblent propres aux savans Allemands.”—niu™y
{De la Litt. du Midi de VEurope, Tom. I. p. 13,
a Paris, 1813.) I regret that my ignorance of
the German language has prevented me from
profiting by a work of which Sismondi has ex¬
pressed so favourable an opinion ; and still
more, that the only history of philosophy from
the pen of a contemporary German scholar,
which I have had .access to consult, should
form so remarkable an exception to Sismondi’s
observation.
The contents of the preceding note lay me
under the necessity, in justice to myself, of
taking some notice of the following remark, by
an anonymous critic, on the first part of this
Dissertation, published in 1815.—(See Quarterly
Review, Vol. XVII. p. 42.)
“ In the plan which Mr Stewart has adopted,
if he has not consulted his strength, he has at
least consulted his ease ; for, supposing a per¬
son to have the requisite talent and information,
the task which our author has performed, is one
which, with the historical abstracts of Ruble or
Tenneman, cannot be supposed to have required
any very laborious meditation.”
On the insinuation contained in the foregoing
passage, I abstain from offering any comment.
I have only to say, that it was not till the
summer of 1820 that I saw the work of Ruble;
and that I have never yet had an opportunity
of seeing that of Tenneman. From what I
have found in the one, and from what I have
heard of the other, I am strongly inclined
to suspect, that when the anonymous critic
wrote the above sentence, he was not less igno¬
rant than myself of the works ot these two his¬
torians. Nor can I refrain from adding (which
I do with perfect confidence), that no person
competent to judge on such a subject can read
with attention this Historical Sketch, without
perceiving that its merits and delects, whatever
they may be, are at least all my own.
Note B B B, p. 204.
Of the Scottish authors who turned their at¬
tention to metaphysical studies, prior to the
DISSERTATION FIRST.
285
tes union of the two Kingdoms, I know of none so
(i. eminent as George Dalgarno of Aberdeen, au-
jHu inony ^ tvvo WOrks, both of them strongly marked
with sound philosophy, as well as with original
genius. The one published at London, 1660,
is entitled, “ Ars signorum, vulgo character uni¬
versalis et lingua philosophical qua poterunt ho¬
mines diversissimorum idiomatum, spatio duarum
septimanarum, omnia animi sui sensa (in rebus
familiaribus) non minus intelligibiliter, sive scri-
bendo, sive loquendo, mutuo communicare, quam
Unguis propriis vernaculis. Prceterea, hinc etiam
poterunt juvenes, philosophies p/incipia, et veram
logicce praxin, citius et facilius multo imbibere,
quam ex vulgaribus philosophorum scriptis.” The
other work of Dalgarno is entitled, “ Didascolo-
cophus, or the Deaf and Dumb Man’s Tutor.”
Printed at Oxford, 1680. I have given some
account of the former in the notes at the end of
the first volume of the Philosophy of the Human
Mind; and of the latter, in a Memoir, published
in Yol. VII. of the Transactions of the Royal
Society of Edinburgh. As they are now become
extremely rare, and would together form a very
small octavo volume, I cannot help thinking
that a bookseller, who should reprint them,
would he fully indemnified by the sale. The
fate of Dalgarno will be hard indeed, if, in
addition to the unjust neglect he experienced
from his contemporaries, the proofs he has left
of his philosophical talents shall be suflfered to
sink into total oblivion.
Lord Stair’s Physiologia Nova Experimentalis
(published at Leyden in 1686) is also worthy of
notice in the literary history of Scotland. Al¬
though it bears few marks of the eminent ta¬
lents which distinguished the author, both as a
lawyer and as a statesman, it discovers a very
extensive acquaintance with the metaphysical
as well as with the physical doctrines, which
were chiefly in vogue at that period ; more par¬
ticularly with the leading doctrines of Gassendi,
Descartes, and Malebranche. Many acute and
some important strictures are made on the
errors of all the three, and at the same time
complete justice is done to their merits; the
writer every where manifesting an indepen¬
dence of opinion and a spirit of free inquiry,
very uncommon among the philosophers of the
seventeenth century. The work is dedicated Notes
to the Royal Society of London, of the utility j1Ius®nations<
of which institution, in promoting experimental
knowledge, he appears to have been tully
aware.
The limits of a note will not permit me to
enter into farther details concerning the state
of philosophy in Scotland, during the interval
between the union of the Crowns and that of
the Kingdoms. The circumstances of the coun¬
try were indeed peculiarly unfavourable to it.
But memorials still exist of a few individuals,
sufficient to show, that the philosophical taste,
which has so remarkably distinguished our
countrymen during the eighteenth century, was
in some measure an inheritance from their im¬
mediate predecessors. Leibnitz, I think, some¬
where mentions the number of learned Scotch¬
men by whom he was visited in the course ot
their travels. To one of them (Mr Burnet of
Kemney) he has addressed a most interesting
letter, dated in 1697, on the general state of
learning and science in Europe; opening his
mind on the various topics which he introduces,
with a freedom and confidence highly honour¬
able to the attainments and character of his
correspondent. Dr Arbuthnot, who was born
about the time of the Restoration, may serve as
a fair specimen of the very liberal education
which was then to be had in some of the Scot¬
tish Universities. The large share which he is
allowed to have contributed to the Memoirs of
Martinus Scriblerus abundantly attests the va¬
riety of his learning, and the just estimate he
had formed of the philosophy of the schools;
and in one or two passages, where he glances
at the errors of his contemporaries, an attentive
and intelligent reader will trace, amid all his
pleasantry, a metaphysical depth and soundness
which seem to belong to a later period. Is
there no Arbuthnot now, to chastise the follies
of our craniologists ?
Note C C C, p. 214.
The letter which gives occasion to this note
was written twenty years after the publication
of the Treatise of Human Nature. As it relates,
however, to the history of Mr Hume’s studies
280
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes previous to that publication, I consider this as
ustrations ^ie ProPer place f°r introducing it. The Dia-
logue to which the letter refers was plainly that
which appeared after Mr Hume’s death, under
the title of Dialogues on Natural Religion.
“ Nineivells, March 19. 1751.
“ Dear Sir—You would perceive by the
sample I have given you, that I make Cleanthes
the hero of the dialogue. Whatever you can
think of to strengthen that side of the argument
will he most acceptable to me. Any propensity
you imagine I have to the other side crept in
upon me against my will; and it is not long ago
that I burned an old manuscript hook, wrote
before I was twenty, which contained, page af¬
ter page, the gradual progress of my thoughts
on that head. It begun with an anxious search
after arguments to confirm the common opinion ;
doubts stole in, dissipated, returned, were again
dissipated, returned again, and it was a per¬
petual struggle of a restless imagination against
inclination, perhaps against reason.
“ I have often thought that the best way of
composing a dialogue would be for two persons
that are of different opinions about any question
of importance, to write alternately the different
parts of the discourse, and reply to each other.
By this means that vulgar error would be avoid¬
ed of putting nothing but nonsense into the
mouth of the adversary: and, at the same time,
a variety of character and genius being upheld,
would make the whole look more natural and
unaffected. Had it been my good fortune to
live near you, I should have taken on me the
character of Philo in the dialogue, which you’ll
own I could have supported naturally enough;
and you would not have been averse to that of
Cleanthes. I believe, too, we could both of us
have kept our tempers very well; only you have
not reached an absolute philosophical indiffe¬
rence on these points. What danger can ever
come from ingenious reasoning and inquiry ?
The worst speculative sceptic ever I knew was
a much better man than the best superstitious
devotee and bigot. I must inform you too, that
this was the way of thinking of the ancients on
this subject. If a man made profession of phi¬
losophy, whatever his sect was, they always ex¬
pected to find more regularity in his life and Nates
manners than in those of the ignorant and illi- T„ and
. . . nlustratior
terate. There is a remarkable passage of Ap- ^'■w
pian to this purpose. That historian observes,
that, notwithstanding the established prepos¬
session in favour of learning, yet some philoso¬
phers who have been trusted with absolute
power have very much abused it; and he in¬
stances in Critias, the most violent of the
Thirty, and Aristion, who governed Athens in
the time of Sylla. But 1 find, upon inquiry,
that Critias was a professed Atheist, and Aris-
tion an Epicurean, which is little or nothing
different; and yet Appian wonders at their cor¬
ruption as much as if they had been Stoics
or Platonists. A modern zealot would have
thought that corruption unavoidable.
“ I could wish that Cleanthes’s argument
could be so analysed as to be rendered quite
formal and regular. The propensity of the
mind towards it, unless that propensity were as
strong and universal as that to believe in our
senses and experience, will still, I am afraid, be
esteemed a suspicious foundation. ’Tis here I
wish for your assistance. We must endeavour
to prove that this propensity is somewhat diffe¬
rent from our inclination to find our own figures
in the clouds, our face in the moon, our passions
and sentiments even in inanimate matter. Such
an inclination may and ought to be controlled,
and can never be a legitimate ground of assent.
“ The instances I have chosen for Cleanthes
are, I hope, tolerably happy; and the confusion
in which I represent the sceptic seems natural.
But, si quid novisti rectihs, &c.
“ You ask me, if the idea of cause and effect is
nothing hut vicinity ? (you should have said con¬
stant vicinity or regular conjunction)—1 would
gladly know whence is that farther idea of causa¬
tion against which you argue ? The question is
pertinent; but I hope I have answered it. We
feel, after the constant conjunction, an easy
transition from one idea to the other, or a con¬
nection in the imagination; and, as it is usual
for us to transfer our own feelings to the ob¬
jects on which they are dependent, we attach
the internal sentiment to the external objects.
If no single instances of cause and effect appear
to have any connection, but only repeated simi-
DISSERTATION FIRST.
287
tes lar ones, you will find yourself obliged to have
,d recourse to this theory.
Ilk ations. * , i-i-.ii
^ <£ I am sorry our correspondence should lead
us into these abstract speculations. I have
thought, and read, and composed very little on
such questions of late. Morals, politics, and
literature, have employed all my time; hut still
the other topics I must think more curious, im¬
portant, entertaining, and useful, than any geo¬
metry that is deeper than Euclid. If, in order
to answer the doubts started, new principles of
philosophy must be laid, are not these doubts
themselves very useful? Are they not prefer¬
able to blind and ignorant assent ? I hope I
can answer my own doubts; but, if I could not,
is it to be wondered at? To give myself airs
and speak magnificently; might I not observe
that Columbus did not conquer empires and
plant colonies ?
“ If I have not unravelled the knot so well
in these last papers I sent you, as perhaps I did
in the former, it has not, I assure you, proceed¬
ed from want of good will. But some subjects
are easier than others; and sometimes one is
happier in one’s researches and inquiries than
at other times. Still I have recourse to the si
quid novisti rectius; not in order to pay you a
compliment, but from a real philosophical doubt
and curiosity.”1
An unfinished draught of the letter to which
the foregoing seems to have been the reply, has
been preserved among Sir Gilbert Elliot’s pa¬
pers. This careless fragment is in his own
handwriting, and exhibits an interesting speci¬
men of the progress made in Scotland among
the higher classes, seventy years ago, not only
in sound philosophy, but in purity of English
style.
“ Dear Sir—Inclosed I return your papers,
which, since my coming to town, I have again
read over with the greatest care. The thoughts
which this last perusal of them has suggested
I shall set down, merely in compliance with
your desire, for I pretend not to say any¬
thing new upon a question which has already
been examined so often and so accurately. I Notes
must freely own to you, that to me it appears jllus^^iong
extremely doubtful, if the position which Cle-
anthes undertakes to maintain can be supported,
at least in any satisfactory manner, upon the
principles he establishes and the concessions he
makes. If it be only from effects exactly simi¬
lar that experience warrants us to infer a simi¬
lar cause, then I am afraid it must be granted,
that the works of Nature resemble not so nearly
the productions of man as to support the conclu¬
sion which Cleanthes admits can be built only on
that resemblance. The two instances he brings
to illustrate his argument are indeed ingenious
and elegant; the first, especially, which seem¬
ingly carries great weight along with it: the
other, I mean that of the Vegetating Library, as
it is of more difficult apprehension, so I think it
is not easy for the mind either to retain or to
apply it. But, if I mistake not, this strong
objection strikes equally against them both.
Cleanthes does no more than substitute two ar¬
tificial instances in the place of natural ones:
but if these bear no nearer a resemblance than
natural ones to the effects which we have expe¬
rienced to proceed from men, then nothing can
justly be inferred from them; and if this re¬
semblance be greater, then nothing farther ought
to be inferred from them. In one respect, how¬
ever, Cleanthes seems to limit his reasonings
more than is necessary even upon his own prin¬
ciples. Admitting, for once, that experience is
the only source of our knowledge, I cannot see
how it follows, that, to enable us to infer a si¬
milar cause, the effects must not only be similar,
but exactly and precisely so. Will not expe¬
rience authorise me to conclude, that a machine
or piece of mechanism was produced by human
art, unless I have happened previously to see a
machine or piece of mechanism exactly of the
same sort ? Point out, for instance, the contri¬
vance and end of a watch to a peasant, who had
never before seen any thing more curious than
the coarsest instruments of husbandry, will he
not immediately conclude, that this watch is an
effect produced by human art and design ? And
1 The original is in the possession of the Earl of Minto.
288
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes I would still farther ask, does a spade or a plough
Illustrations muc^ more resemble a watch than a watch does
an organised animal ? The result of our whole
experience, if experience indeed be the only
principle, seems rather to amount to this : 1 here
are hut two ways in which we have ever ob¬
served the different parcels of matter to be
thrown together; either at random, or with de¬
sign and purpose. By the first we have never
seen produced a regular complicated effect, cor¬
responding to a certain end; by the second, we
uniformly have. If, then, the works of nature,
and the productions of man, resemble each other
in this one general characteristic, will not even
experience sufficiently warrant us to ascribe to
both a similar though proportionable cause? If
you answer, that abstracting from the experience
we acquire in this world, order and adjustment
of parts is no proof of design, my reply is, that
no conclusions, drawn from the nature of so chi¬
merical a being as man, considered abstracted
from experience, can at all be listened to. The
principles of the human mind are clearly so con¬
trived as not to unfold themselves till the pro¬
per objects and proper opportunity and occasion
be presented. There is no arguing upon the na¬
ture of man but by considering him as grown to
maturity, placed in society, and become ac¬
quainted with surrounding objects. But if you
should still farther urge, that, with regard to in¬
stances of which we have no experience, for
aught we know, matter may contain the prin¬
ciples of order, arrangement, and the adjust¬
ment of final causes, I should only answer, that
whoever can conceive this proposition to be true,
has exactly the same idea of matter that I have
of mind. I know not if I have reasoned justly
upon Cleanthes’s principles, nor is it indeed very
material. The purpose of my letter is barely to
point out what to me appears the fair and phi¬
losophical method of proceeding in this inquiry.
That this universe is the effect of an intelligent
designing cause, is a principle which has been
most universally received in all ages and in all
nations ; the proof uniformly appealed to is, the
admirable order and adjustment of the works of
nature. To proceed, then, experimentally and
philosophically, the first question in point of or¬
der seems to be, what is the effect which the
contemplation of the universe, and the several Notes
parts of it, produces upon a considering mind ? m and
* . . 1 . . / . , ^lustration
1 Ins is a question of tact; a popular question,
the discussion of which depends not upon refine¬
ments and subtlety, but merely upon impartia¬
lity and attention. I ask, then, what is the sen¬
timent which prevails in one’s mind, after hav¬
ing considered not only the more familiar ob¬
jects that surround him, but also all the disco¬
veries of Natural Philosophy and Natural His¬
tory ; after having considered not only the ge¬
neral economy of the universe, but also the most
minute parts of it, and the amazing adjustment
of means to ends with a precision unknown to
human art, and in instances innumerable? Tell
me (to use the words of Cleanthes), does not
the idea of a contriver flow in upon you with a
force like that of sensation ? Expressions how
just! (yet in the mouth of Cleanthes you must
allow me to doubt of their propriety.) Nor does
this conviction only arise from the consideration
of the inanimate parts of the creation, but still
more strongly from the contemplation of the fa¬
culties of the understanding, the affections of
the heart, and the various instincts discoverable
both in men and brutes; all so properly adapted
to the circumstances and situation both of the
species and the individual. Yet this last obser¬
vation, whatever may be in it, derives no force
from experience. For who ever saw a mind
produced ? If we are desirous to push our ex¬
periments still farther, and inquire, whether the
survey of the universe has regularly and uni¬
formly led to the belief of an intelligent cause ?
Shall we not find, that, from the author of the
book of Job to the preachers at Boyle’s Lecture,
the same language has been universally held ?
No writer, who has ever treated this subject,
but has either applied himself to describe, in the
most emphatical language, the beauty and order
of the universe, or else to collect together and
place in the most striking light, the many in¬
stances of contrivance and design which have
been discovered by observation and experiment.
And when they have done this, they seem to
have imagined that their task was finished, and
their demonstration complete; and indeed no
wonder,—for it seems to me, that we are scarce
more assured of our own existence, than that
DISSERTATION FIRST.
289
j es this well-ordered universe is the effect of an in-
telligent cause.
twns {{ question, then, which is indeed a
question of fact, being thus settled upon obser¬
vations which are obvious and unrefined, but
not on that account the less satisfactory, it be¬
comes the business of the philosopher to inquire,
whether the conviction arising from these obser¬
vations be founded on the conclusions of reason,
the reports of experience, or the dictates of feel-
END OP 1 HE FIRST DISSERTATION.
ing, or possibly upon all these together; but if Note*
his principles shall not be laid so wide as to a<> iuusirnatjon3
count for the fact already established upon prior
evidence, we may, I think, safely conclude, that
his principles are erroneous. Should a philoso¬
pher pretend to demonstrate to me, by a system
of optics, that I can only discern an object when
placed directly opposite to my eye, I should
certainly answer, your system must be defec¬
tive, for it is contradicted by matter of fact.,,—
2 o
Diss. I. PART II.
DISSERTATION SECOND;
EXHIBITING A GENERAL VIEW
OF THE
PROGRESS OF ETHICAL PHILOSOPHY,
CHIEFLY
DURING THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES.
BY THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH, LL.D. F.R.S. M.P.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
INTRODUCTION.
in this respect in a worse condition than an as¬
tronomer who looked at the heavens only with
the naked eye, whose limited and partial obser¬
vation, however it might lead to error, might
not directly, and would not necessarily deceive.
He might he more justly compared to an arith¬
metician compelled to employ numerals not only
cumbrous, but used so wregularly to denote dif¬
ferent quantities, that they not only often de¬
ceived others, but himself.
The Natural Philosopher and Mathematician
have in some degree the privilege of framing
their own terms of art; though that liberty is
daily narrowed by the happy diffusion of these
great branches of knowledge, which daily mixes
their language with the general vocabulary of
educated men. The cultivator of Mental and
Moral Philosophy can seldom do more than
mend the faults of his words by definition ; a
necessary but very inadequate expedient, in a
great measure defeated in practice by the un¬
avoidably more frequent recurrence of the terms
in their vague than in their definite acceptation;
in consequence of which the mind, to which the
The inadequacy of the words of ordinary lan¬
guage for the purposes of Philosophy, is an an¬
cient and frequent complaint; of which the just¬
ness will be felt by all who consider the state to
which some of the most important arts would
be reduced, if the coarse tools of the common
labourer were the only instruments to be em¬
ployed in the most delicate operations of ma¬
nual expertness. The watchmaker, the opti¬
cian, and the surgeon, are provided with instru¬
ments which are fitted, by careful ingenuity, to
second their skill; the philosopher alone is
doomed to use the rudest tools for the most re¬
fined purposes. He must reason in words of
which the looseness and vagueness are suitable,
and even agreeable, in the usual intercourse of
life, but which are almost as remote from the
extreme exactness and precision required, not
only in the conveyance, but in the search of
truth, as the hammer and the axe would be un¬
fit for the finest exertions of skilful handiwork ;
for it is not to be forgotten, that he must him¬
self think in these gross words as unavoidably
as he uses them in speaking to others. He is
294
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
definition is faintly and but occasionally present,
naturally suffers, in the ordinary state of atten¬
tion, the scientific meaning to disappear from
remembrance, and insensibly ascribes to the
word a great part, if not the whole, of that po¬
pular sense which is so very much more familiar
even to the most veteran speculator. The ob¬
stacles which stood in the way of Lucretius and
Cicero, when they began to translate the subtile
philosophy of Greece into their narrow and bar¬
ren tongue, are always felt by the philosopher
when he struggles to express, with the neces¬
sary discrimination, his abstruse reasonings in
words which, though those of his own language,
he must take from the mouths of those to whom
his distinctions would be without meaning.
The Moral Philosopher is in this respect sub¬
ject to peculiar difficulties. His statements and
reasonings often call for nicer discriminations
of language than those which are necessary in
describing or discussing the purely intellectual
part of human nature; but his freedom in the
choice of words is more circumscribed. As he
treats of matters on which all men are disposed
to form a judgment, he can as rarely hazard
glaring innovations in diction, at least in an
adult and mature language like ours, as the ora¬
tor or the poet. If he deviates from common
use, he must atone for his deviation by hiding
it, and can only give a new sense to an old word
by so skilful a position of it as to render the
new meaning so quickly understood that its no¬
velty is scarcely perceived. Add to this, that
in those most difficult inquiries for which the
utmost coolness is not more than sufficient, he
is often forced to use terms commonly connect¬
ed with warm feeling, with high praise, with
severe reproach; which excite the passions of his
readers when he most needs their calm atten¬
tion and the undisturbed exercise of their im¬
partial judgment. There is scarcely a neutral
term left in Ethics; so quickly are such expres¬
sions enlisted on the side of Praise or Blame,
by the address of contending passions. A true
philosopher must not even desire that men
should less love virtue or hate vice, in order to
fit them for a more unprejudiced judgment on
his speculations.
There are perhaps not many occasions where
the penury and laxity of language are more felt
than in entering on the history of sciences where
the first measure must be to mark out the boun¬
dary of the whole subject with some distinct¬
ness. But no exactness in these important ope¬
rations can be approached without a new divi¬
sion of human knowledge, adapted to the pre¬
sent stage of its progress, and a reformation of
all those barbarous, pedantic, unmeaning, and
(what is worse) wrong-meaning names which
continue to be applied to the greater part of its
branches. Instances are needless where nearly
all the appellations are faulty. The term Me¬
taphysics affords a specimen of all the faults
which the name of a science can combine. To
those who know only their own language, it
must, at their entrance on the study, convey no
meaning. It points their attention to nothing.
If they examine the language in which its parts
are significant, they will be misled into the per¬
nicious error of believing that it seeks some¬
thing more than the interpretation of nature.
It is only by examining the history of ancient
Philosophy that the probable origin of this name
will be found, in the application of it, as the
running title of several essays of Aristotle,
which were placed in a collection of the manu¬
scripts of that great philosopher, after his trea¬
tise on Physics. It has the greater fault of an
unsteady and fluctuating signification ; denoting
one class of objects in the seventeenth century,
and another in the eighteenth—even in the
nineteenth not quite of the same import in the
mouth of a German, as in that of a French or
English philosopher; to say nothing of the far¬
ther objection that it continues to be a badge of
undue pretension among some of the followers
of the science, while it has become a name
of reproach and derision among those who alto¬
gether decry it. ,
The modern name of the very modern science
called Political Economy, though deliberately
bestowed on it by its most eminent teachers, is
perhaps a still more notable sample of the like
faults. It might lead the ignorant to confine it
to retrenchment in national expenditure ; and a
consideration of its etymology alone would lead
into the more mischievous error of believing it
to teach, that national wealth is best promoted by
DISSERTATION SECOND.
295
the contrivance and interference of lawgivers,
in opposition to its surest doctrine, which it
most justly boasts of having discovered and en¬
forced.
It is easy to conceive an exhaustive analysis
of Human Knowledge, and a consequent division
of it into parts corresponding to all the classes
of objects to which it relates:—a representation
of that vast edifice, containing a picture of what
is finished, a sketch of what is building, and
even a conjectural outline of what, though re¬
quired by completeness and convenience, as well
as symmetry, is yet altogether untouched. A
system of names might also be imagined derived
from a few roots, indicating the objects of each
part, and showing the relation of the parts to
each other. An order and a language somewhat
resembling those by which the objects of the
sciences of Botany and Chemistry have, in the
eighteenth century, been arranged and denoted,
are doubtless capable of application to the sciences
generally, when considered as parts of the system
of knowledge. The attempts, however, which
have hitherto been made to accomplish the ana¬
lytical division of knowledge which must neces¬
sarily precede a new nomenclature ot the sciences,
have required so prodigious a superiority of ge¬
nius in the single instance of approach to success
by Bacon, as to discourage rivalship nearly as
much as the frequent examples of failure in sub¬
sequent times. The nomenclature itself is at¬
tended with great difficulties, not indeed in its
conception, but in its adoption and usefulness.
In the Continental languages to the south of
the Rhine, the practice of deriving the names of
science from Greek must be continued; which
would render the new names for a while unin¬
telligible to the majority of men. Even in Ger-
many, where a flexible and fertile language
affords unbounded liberty of deri vation and com¬
position from native roots or elements, and where
the newly derived and compounded words would
thus be as clear to the mind, and almost as
little startling to the ear of every man, as the
oldest terms in the language, yet the whole no¬
menclature would be unintelligible to other na¬
tions. The intercommunity of the technical
terms of science in Europe has been so far broken
down by the Germans, and the influence of their
literature and philosophy is so rapidly increasing
in the greater part of the Continent, that though
a revolution in scientific nomenclature be pro¬
bably yet far distant, the foundation of it may
be considered as already prepared.
But although so great an undertaking must
be reserved for a second Bacon and a future
generation, it is necessary for the historian of
any branch of knowledge to introduce his work
by some account of the limits and contents of
the sciences of which he is about to trace the
progress; and though it will be found impos¬
sible to trace throughout the treatise a distinct
line of demarcation, yet a general and imperfect
sketch of the boundaries of the whole, and of
the parts of our present subject, may be a con¬
siderable help to the reader, as it has been a
useful guide to the writer.
There is no distribution of the parts of know¬
ledge more ancient than that of the Physical
and Moral Sciences, which seems liable to no
other objection, than that it does not exhaust
the subject. Even this division, however, can¬
not be safely employed, without warning the
reader, that no science is entirely insulated,
and that the principles of one are often only the
conclusions and results of another. Every
branch of knowledge has its root in the theory
of the Understanding, from which even the ma¬
thematician must learn what can be known of
his magnitude and his numbers; and Moral
Science is founded on that other hitherto un¬
named part of the philosophy of human nature
(to be constantly and vigilantly distinguished
from Intellectual Philosophy), which contem¬
plates the laws of sensibility, of emotion, of
desire and aversion, of pleasure and pain, of
happiness and misery; and on which arise the
august and sacred landmarks that stand con¬
spicuous along the frontier between Right and
W rong.
But however multiplied the connections of
the Moral and Physical Sciences are, it is not
difficult to draw a general distinction between
them. The purpose of the Physical Sciences
throughout all their provinces, is to answer the
question What is ? They consist only of facts
arranged according to their likeness, and ex¬
pressed by general names given to every class
296
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
of similar facts. The purpose of the Moral
Sciences is to answer the question What ought
to be? They aim at ascertaining the rules
which ought to govern voluntary action, and to
which those habitual dispositions of mind which
are the source of voluntary actions ought to be
adapted.
It is obvious that Will, Action, Habit, Disposi¬
tion, are terms denoting facts in human nature,
and that an explanation of them must be sought
in Mental Philosophy; which, if knowledge be
divided into Physical and Moral, must be placed
among physical sciences; though it essentially
differs from them all in having for its chief ob¬
ject those laws of thought which alone render
any other sort of knowledge possible. But it is
equally certain that the word Ought introduces
the mind into a new region, to which nothing
physical corresponds. However philosophers
may deal with this most important of words, it
is instantly understood by all who do not at¬
tempt to.define it. No civilized speech, perhaps
no human language, is without correspondent
terms. It would be as reasonable to deny that
Space and Greenness are significant words, as to
affirm that Ought, Right, Duty, Virtue, are sounds
without meaning. It would be fatal to an Ethi¬
cal Theory that it did not explain them, and
that it did not comprehend all the conceptions
and emotions which they call up. There never
yet was a theory which did not attempt such an
explanation.
SECTION I.
Preliminary Observations.
There is no man who, in a case where he
was a calm by-stander, would not look with
more satisfaction on acts of kindness than on
acts of cruelty. No man, after the first excite¬
ment of his mind has subsided, ever whispered
to himself with self-approbation and secret joy
that he had been guilty of cruelty or baseness.
Every criminal is strongly impelled to hide these
qualities of his actions from himself, as he would
do from others, by clothing his conduct in some
disguise of duty or of necessity. There is no
tribe so rude as to be without a faint perception
of a difference between right and wrong. There
is no subject on which men of all ages and na¬
tions coincide in so many points as in the gene¬
ral rules of conduct, and in the qualities of the
human character which deserve esteem. Even
the grossest deviations from the general consent
will appear, on close examination, to be not so
much corruptions of moral feeling, as either ig¬
norance of facts; or errors with respect to the
consequences of action; or cases in which the
dissentient party is inconsistent with other parts
of his own principles, which destroys the value
of his dissent; or where each dissident is con¬
demned by all the other dissidents, which im¬
measurably augments the majority against him.
In the first three cases he may be convinced by
argument, that his moral judgment should be
changed on principles which he recognises as
just; and he can seldom, if ever, be condemned
at the same time by the body of mankind who
agree in their moral systems, and by those who
on some other points dissent from that general
code, without being also convicted of error by
inconsistency with himself. The tribes who ex¬
pose new-born infants, condemn those who
abandon their decrepit parents to destruction.
Those who betray and murder strangers, are
condemned byr the rules of faith and humanity
which they acknowledge in their intercourse
with their countrymen. Mr Hume, in a dia¬
logue in which he ingeniously magnifies the
moral heresies of two nations so polished as the
Athenians and the French, has very satisfactorily
resolved his own difficulties. 44 In how many cir¬
cumstances would an Athenian and a Frenchman
of merit certainly^ resemble each other?—Human-
DISSERTATION SECOND.
297
ity, fidelity, truth, justice, courage, temperance,
constancy, dignity of mind The principles
upon which men reason in morals are always the
same, though their conclusions are often very dif¬
ferent.” 1 He might have added, that almost every
deviation which he imputes to each nation is at
variance with some of the virtues justly esteemed
by both; and that the reciprocal condemnation
of each other’s errors which appears in his
statement entitles us on these points to strike
out the suffrages of both, when collecting the
general judgment of mankind. If we bear in
mind that the question relates to the coincidence
of all men in considering the same qualities as
virtues, and not to the preference of one class
of virtues by some, and of a different class by
others, the exceptions from the agreement of
mankind, in their system of practical morality,
will be reduced to absolute insignificance; and
we shall learn to view them as no more affecting
the harmony of our moral faculties, than the re¬
semblance of the limbs and features is affected
by monstrous conformations, or by the unfortu¬
nate effects of accident and disease in a very
few individuals.9
It is very remarkable, however, that though
all men agree that there are acts which ought
to be done, and acts which ought not to be done ;
though the far greater part of mankind agree in
their list of virtues and duties, of vices and
crimes; and though the whole race, as it advances
in other improvements, is as evidently tending
towards the moral system of the most civilized
nations, as children in their growth tend to the
opinions as much as to the experience and
strength of adults; yet there are no questions
m the circle of inquiry to which answers more
various have been given than—How men have
thus come to agree in the rule of life; Whence
arises their general reverence for it; and What
is meant by affirming that it ought to be in¬
violably observed ? It is singular, that where
we are most nearly agreed respecting rules, we
should perhaps most differ as to the causes of
our agreement, and as to the reasons which
justify us for adhering to it. The discussion of
these subjects composes what is usually called
the Theory of Morals, in a sense not in all
respects coincident with what is usually con¬
sidered as Theory in other sciences. When we
investigate the causes of our moral agreement,
the term Theory retains its ordinary scientific
sense; but when we endeavour to ascertain the
reasons of it, we rather employ the term as im¬
porting the theory of the rules of an art. In
the first case, Theory denotes, as usual, the
most general laws to which certain facts can be
reduced; whereas in the second, it points out
the efficacy of the observance, in practice, of
certain rules, for producing the effects intended
to be produced in the art. These reasons also
may be reduced under the general sense by stat¬
ing the question relating to them thus :—What
are the causes why the observance of certain
rules enables us to execute certain purposes ?
An account of the various answers attempted to
be made to these inquiries, properly forms the
History of Ethics.
The attentive reader may already perceive,
that these momentous inquiries relate to at least
two perfectly distinct subjects : 1. The nature
of the distinction between right and wrong in
human conduct, and 2. ‘The nature of those feel¬
ings with which right and wrong are contem¬
plated by human beings. The latter consti¬
tutes what has been called the Theory of Mo¬
ral Sentiments; the former consists in an in¬
vestigation into the Criterion of Morality in
action. Other most important questions arise
in this province. But the two problems which
have been just stated, and the essential distinc¬
tion between them, must be clearly apprehended
1 Philosophical Works, vol. IV. p. 420, 422. Edinb. 182G.
’ “ On convient le plus souvent de ces instincts de la conscience. La plus grande et la plus saine partie du genre hu-
main leur rend tdmoignage. Les Orientaux, et les Grecs, et les Remains conviennent en cela; et il faudroit etre aussi
abruti que les sausages Americains pour approuver leurs coutumes, pleines d’une cruautd qui passe meme celle des betes.
Cependant ces mimes sauvages sentent hien ce que e'est que la justice cn d'autres occasions ; et quoique il n’y ait point de mauvaise
pratique peut-etre qui ne soit autorise'e quelque part, il y en a pen pourtant qui ne soient condamnees le plus souvent, et par
la plus grande partie des hommes.” (Leibnitz, (Euvres Philosophiques, p. 49. Amst. et Leipz. 1765? 4to.)
. There are some admirable observations on this subject in Hartley, especially in the development of the 49th Proposi-
tion. “ The rule of life drawn from the practice and opinions of mankind corrects and improves itself perpetually, tilt at last it
determines entirely for virtue, and excludes all kinds and degrees of viced' (Observations on Man, I. 207-)
DISS. II. ' . 2 P
298
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
by all who are desirous of understanding the
controversies which have prevailed on ethical
subjects. The discrimination has seldom been
made by Moral Philosophers; the difference
between the two problems has never been uni¬
formly observed by any of them: and it will
appear, in the sequel, that they have been not
rarely altogether confounded by very eminent
men, to the destruction of all just conception
and of all correct reasoning in this most import¬
ant, and perhaps most difficult of sciences.
It may therefore be allowable to deviate so
far from historical order, as to illustrate the
nature and to prove the importance of the dis¬
tinction, by an example of the effects of ne¬
glecting it, taken from the recent works of
justly celebrated writers; in which they discuss
questions much agitated in the present age, and
therefore probably now familiar to most readers
of this Dissertation.
Dr Paley represents the principle of a moral
sense as being opposed to that of utility.1 Now,
it is evident that this representation is founded
on a confusion of the two questions which have
been stated above. That we are endued with a
moral sense, or, in other words, a faculty which
immediately approves what is right and con¬
demns what is wrong, is only a statement of
the feelings with which we contemplate actions.
But to affirm that right actions are those which
conduce to the wellbeing of mankind, is a pro¬
position concerning the outward effects by
which right actions themselves may be recog¬
nised. As these affirmations relate to different
subjects, they cannot be opposed to each other,
any more than the solidity of earth is inconsist¬
ent with the fluidity of water; and a very little
reflection will show it to be easily conceivable
that they may be both true. Man may be so
constituted as instantaneously to approve cer¬
tain actions without any reference to their con¬
sequences ; and yet reason may nevertheless
discover, that a tendency to produce general
happiness is the essential characteristic of such
actions. Mr Bentham also contrasts the prin¬
ciple of utility with that of sympathy, of which
he considers the moral sense as being one of the
forms.2 It is needless to repeat, that proposi¬
tions which affirm or deny anything of different
subjects, cannot contradict each other. As
these celebrated persons have thus inferred or
implied the non-existence of a moral sense,
from their opinion that the morality of actions
depends upon their usefulness, so other philoso¬
phers of equal name have concluded, that the
utility of actions cannot be the criterion of
their morality, because a perception of that
utility appears to them to form a faint and in¬
considerable part of our moral sentiments, if
indeed it be at all discoverable in them.® These
errors are the more remarkable, because the
like confusion of perceptions with their objects,
of emotions with their causes, or even the omis¬
sion to mark the distinctions, would, in every
other subject, be felt to be a most serious fault
in philosophizing. If, for instance, an element
were discovered to be common to all bodies
which our taste perceives to be sweet, and to be
found in no other bodies, it is apparent that this
discovery, perhaps important in other respects,
would neither affect our perception of sweet¬
ness, nor the pleasure which attends it. Both
would continue to be what they have been since
the existence of mankind. Every proposition
concerning that element would relate to sweet
bodies, and belong to the science of Chemistry;
while every proposition respecting the percep¬
tion or pleasure of sweetness would relate either
to the body or mind of man, and accordingly
belong either to the science of Physiology, or
to that of Mental Philosophy. During the
many ages which passed before the analysis of
the sun’s beams had proved them to be com¬
pounded of different colours, white objects were
seen, and their whiteness was sometimes felt to
be beautiful, in the very same manner as since
that discovery. The qualities of light are the
object of Optics; the nature of beauty can be as-
' Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy. Compare book i. chap. v. with hook ii. chap. vi.
2 Introduction to the Principles of Morality and Legislation, chap. ii. .
3 Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments, Part iv. Even Hume, in the third book of his Treatise of Human Nature, vac
most precise, perhaps, of his philosophical writings, uses the following as the title of one of the sections: “ Moral .Dis¬
tinctions derived from a Moral Sense.”
DISSERTATION SECOND.
299
certained only by each man’s observation of his
own mind; the changes in the living frame
which succeed the refraction of light in the eye,
and precede mental operation, will, if they are
ever to be known by man, constitute a part of
Physiology. But no proposition relating to
one of these orders of phenomena can contra¬
dict or support a proposition concerning another
order.
The analogy of this latter case will justify
another preliminary observation. In the case
of the pleasure derived from beauty, the ques¬
tion whether that pleasure be original or deriv¬
ed is of secondary importance. It has been
often observed that the same properties which
are admired as beautiful in the horse, contribute
also to his safety and speed; and they who in¬
fer that the admiration of beauty was originally
founded on the convenience of fleetness and
firmness, if they at the same time hold that the
usefulness is gradually effaced, and that the ad¬
miration of a certain shape at length rises in¬
stantaneously without reference to any purpose,
may, with perfect consistency, regard a sense of
beauty as an independent and universal prin¬
ciple of human nature. The laws of such a
feeling of beauty are discoverable only by self-
observation. Those of the qualities which call
it forth are ascertained by examination of the
outward things which are called beautiful. But
it is of the utmost importance to bear in mind,
that he who contemplates the beautiful propor¬
tions of a horse, as the signs and proofs of secu¬
rity or quickness, and has in view these conve¬
nient qualities, is properly said to prefer the
horse for his usefulness, not for his beauty;
though he may choose him from the same out¬
ward appearance which pleases the admirer of
the beautiful animal. He alone who derives
immediate pleasure from the appearance itself,
without reflection on any advantages which it
may promise, is truly said to feel the beauty.
The distinction, however, manifestly depends,
not on the origin of the emotion, but on its ob¬
ject and nature when completely formed. Many
of our most important perceptions through the
eye are universally acknowledged to be acquired.
But they are as general as the original percep¬
tions of that organ ; they arise as independently
of our will, and human nature would be quite
as imperfect without them. An adult who did
not immediately see the different distances of
objects from his eye, would be thought by every
one to be as great a deviation from the ordinary
state of man as if he were incapable of distin¬
guishing the brightest sunshine from the dark¬
est midnight. Acquired perceptions and senti¬
ments may therefore be termed natural, as much
as those which are more commonly so called,
if they be as rarely found wanting. Ethical
theories can never be satisfactorily discussed by
those who do not constantly bear in mind, that
the question concerning the existence of a moral
faculty in man which immediately approves or
disapproves without reference to any further ob¬
ject, is perfectly distinct, on the one hand, from
that which inquires into the qualities thus ap¬
proved or disapproved; and on the other, from
an inquiry whether that faculty be derived from
other parts of our mental frame, or be itself one
of the ultimate constituent principles of human
nature.
SECTION II.
Retrospect of Ancient Ethics.
Inquiries concerning the nature of mind,
the first principles of knowledge, the origin
and government of the world, appear to have
been among the earliest objects which employ¬
ed the understanding of civilized men. Frag¬
ments of such speculation are handed down
from the legendary age of Greek philosophy.
In the remaining monuments of that more an-
300
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
cient form of civilisation which sprung up in
Asia, we see clearly that the Braminical philo¬
sophers, in times perhaps before the dawn of
western history, had run round that dark and
little circle of systems which an unquenchable
thirst of knowledge has since urged both the
speculators of ancient Greece and those of Chris¬
tendom to retrace. The wall of adamant which
bounds human inquiry has scarcely ever been
discovered by any adventurer, until he was
roused by the shock which drove him hack. It
is otherwise with the theory of morals. No
controversy seems to have arisen regarding it in
Greece, till the rise and conflict of the Stoical
and Epicurean schools; and the ethical disputes
of the modern world originated with the writings
of Hobbes about the middle of the seventeenth
century. Perhaps the longer abstinence from
debate on this subject may have sprung from
reverence for morality. Perhaps also, where
the world were unanimous in their practical
opinions, little need was felt of exact theory.
The teachers of morals were content with par¬
tial or secondary principles, with the combina¬
tion of principles not always reconcilable, even
with vague but specious phrases which in any
degree explained or seemed to explain the rules
of the art of life—which seemed at once too
evident to need investigation, and too venerable
to be approached by controversy.
Perhaps the subtile genius of Greece was in
part withheld from indulging itself in ethical
controversy by the influence of Socrates, who
was much more a teacher of virtue than even a
searcher after truth—
Whom, well inspired, the oracle pronounced
Wisest of men.
It was doubtless because he chose that better
part that he was thus spoken of by the man
whose commendation is glory, and who, from
the loftiest eminence of moral genius ever
reached by a mortal, was perhaps alone worthy
to place a new crown on the brow of the mar¬
tyr of virtue.
Aristippus indeed, a wit and a worldling, bor-
roAved nothing from the conversations of So¬
crates but a few maxims for husbanding the
enjoyments of sense. Antisthenes also, a hearer
but not a follower, founded a school of parade
and exaggeration, which caused his master to
disown him by the ingenious rebuke, “ I see
your vanity through your threadbare cloak.”1
The modest doubts of the most sober of moralists,
and his indisposition to fruitless abstractions,
were in process of time employed as the foun¬
dation of systematic scepticism ; the most pre¬
sumptuous, inapplicable, and inconsistent of all
the results of human meditation. But though
his lessons were thus distorted by the peiwerse
ingenuity of some who heard him, the authority
of his practical sense may be traced in the mo¬
ral Avritings of those most celebrated philosophers
who Avere directly or indirectly his disciples.
Plato, the most famous of his scholars, the most
eloquent of Grecian writers, and the earliest
moral philosopher whose writings have come
doAvn to us, employed his genius in the compo¬
sition of dialogues, in which his master per¬
formed the principal part. These beautiful
conversations Avould haAre lost their charm of
verisimilitude, of dramatic vivacity, of pictu¬
resque representation of character, if they had
been subjected to the constraint of method.
They necessarily presuppose much oral instruc¬
tion. They frequently quote, and doubtless
oftener allude to the opinions of predecessors
and contemporaries whose works have perished,
and of Avhose doctrines only some fragments are
preserved.
In these circumstances, it must be difficult
for the most learned and philosophical of his
commentators to give a just representation of
his doctrines, if he really framed or adopted a
system. The moral part of his works is more
accessible.2 The Arein of thought which runs
through them is always visible. The object is
to inspire the love of truth, of AA7isdom, of beaut)7,
especially of goodness the highest beauty, and
of that supreme and eternal mind, which con¬
tains all truth and Avisdom, all beauty and good-
1 Diog. Laert. vi. iELiAN. ix. 35. .
2 Heusde, Initia PMIosoph. Plat. 1827 ; a hitherto incomplete work of great perspicuity and elegance, in which we mus
excuse the partiality which belongs to a labour of love.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
301
ness. By the love or delightful contemplation
and pursuit of these transcendent aims for their
own sake only, he represented the mind of man
as raised from low and perishable objects, and
prepared for those high destinies which are ap¬
pointed for all those who are capable of them.
The application to moral qualities of terms
which denote outward beauty, though by him
perhaps carried to excess, is an illustrative me¬
taphor, as well warranted by the poverty of lan¬
guage as any other employed to signify the acts
or attributes of mind.1 The beautiful in his
language denoted all that of which the mere
contemplation is in itself delightful, without any
admixture of organic pleasure, and without being
regarded as the means of attaining any farther
end. The feeling which belongs to it he called
love; a word which, as comprehending compla¬
cency, benevolence, and affection, and reaching
from the neighbourhood of the senses to the most
sublime of human thoughts, is foreign from the
colder and more exact language of our philoso¬
phy ; but which perhaps then happily served to
lure both the lovers of poetry and the votaries
of superstition to the school of truth and good¬
ness in the groves of the Academy. He enforced
these lessons by an inexhaustible variety of just
and beautiful illustrations,—sometimes striking
from their familiarity, sometimes subduing by
their grandeur; and his works are the store¬
house from which moralists have from age to
age borrowed the means of rendering moral in¬
struction easier and more delightful. Virtue he
represented as the harmony of the whole soul;—
as a peace between all its principles and desires,
assigning to each as much space as they can oc¬
cupy, without encroaching on each other;—as a
state of perfect health, in which every function
was performed with ease, pleasure, and vigour;
—as a well-ordered commonwealth, where the
obedient passions executed with energy the laws
and commands of reason. The vicious mind
presented the odious character, sometimes of dis¬
cord, of war;—sometimes of disease;—always of
passions warring with each other in eternal
anarchy. Consistent with himself, and at peace
with his fellows, the good man felt in the quiet
of his conscience a foretaste of the approbation
of God. “ Oh what ardent love would virtue
inspire if she could be seen.” “ If the heart of
a tyrant could be laid bare, we should see how
it was cut and torn by its own evil passions and
by an avenging conscience.” 2
Perhaps in every one of these illustrations, an
eye trained in the history of Ethics may discover
the germ of the whole or of a part of some sub¬
sequent theory. But to examine it thus would
not be to look at it with the eye of Plato. His
aim was as practical as that of Socrates. He
employed every topic, without regard to its
place in a system, or even always to its force as
argument, which could attract the small portion
of the community then accessible to cultivation ;
who, it should not be forgotten, had no moral
instructor but the philosopher, unaided, if not
thwarted, by the reigning superstition: for reli¬
gion had not then, besides her own discoveries,
brought down the most awful and the most
beautiful forms of moral truth to the humblest
station in human society.5
Ethics retained her sober spirit in the hands
of his great scholar and rival Aristotle, who,
1 The most probable etymology of seems to be from naa to burn. What burns commonly shines. ScKon, in Ger¬
man, which means beautiful, is derived from scheinen, to shine. The word kxXus was used for right, so early as the Home¬
ric Poems. II. xvii. 19. In the philosophical age it became a technical term, with little other remains of the metaphorical
sense than what the genius and art of a fine writer might sometimes rekindle. Honestum, the term by which Cicero
translates the being derived from outward honours, is a less happy metaphor. In our language, the terms being from
foreign roots, contribute nothing to illustrate the progress of thought.
( 2 Let it not be forgotten, that for this terrible description, Socrates, to whom it is ascribed by Plato (De Rep. ix.) is called
lt P^stautissimus sapientiae," by a writer of the most masculine understanding, the least subject to be transported by en¬
thusiasm. (Tac. Ann. vi. 6.) “ Quae vulnera /” says Cicero, in alluding to the same passage. {De Officiis, iii. 21.)
* 1 here can hardly be a finer example of Plato’s practical morals than his observations on the treatment ot slaves.
Genuine humanity and real probity, says he, are brought to the test, by the behaviour ot a man to slaves, whom he may
wrong with impunity. Aixlnkcs c <puau *«.' /an crXatrrus ltx.r,v, fMirut 2s cvrws ra sv tovtois tuv Kvfywrw sv oif
avrq fudist a^xav. (Plato de Legibut, lib. vi. edit. Bipont. VIII. 303.)
that Plato was considered as the fountain of ancient morals, would be sufficiently evident from Cicero alone. “ I.x hoc
igitur Platonis, quasi quodam sancto augustoque fonte, nostra omnis manabit oratio.” (Tusc. Quasi, v. 13.) Perhaps the
sober Quintilian meant to mingle some censure with the highest praise : “ Plato, qui eloquendi facultate divina quadam
et Horn erica, multum supra prosam orationem surgit.” {Inst. Orat. x. 1-)
302
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
though he certainly surpassed all men in acute
distinction, in subtile argument, in severe me¬
thod, in the power of analyzing what is most
compounded, and of reducing to simple prin¬
ciples the most various and unlike appearances,
yet appears to be still more raised above his fel¬
lows by the prodigious faculty of laying aside
these extraordinary endowments whenever his
present purpose required it; as in his History of
Animals, in his Treatises on Philosophical Cri¬
ticism, and in his Practical Writings, political
as well as moral. Contrasted as his genius was
to that of Plato, not only by its logical and me¬
taphysical attributes, but by the regard to ex¬
perience and observation of nature which, in
him perhaps alone, accompanied them;—though
they may be considered as the original represen¬
tatives of the two antagonist tendencies of Phi¬
losophy—that which would ennoble man, and
that which seeks rather to explain nature; yet
opposite as they are in other respects, the mas¬
ter and the scholar combine to guard the Rule
of Life against the licentious irruptions of the
Sophists.
In Ethics alone their systems differed more in
words than in things.* That happiness con¬
sisted in virtuous pleasure, chiefly dependent on
the state of mind, but not unaffected by outward
agents, was the doctrine of both. Both would
with Socrates have called Happiness “ unre¬
pented Pleasure.” Neither distinguished the
two elements which they represented as consti¬
tuting the supreme good from each other; part¬
ly, perhaps, from a fear of appearing to separate
them. Plato more habitually considered happi¬
ness as the natural fruit of virtue; Aristotle
oftener viewed virtue as the means of attaining
happiness. The celebrated doctrine of the Peri¬
patetics, which placed all virtues in a medium
between opposite vices, was probably suggested
by the Platonic representation of its necessity
to keep up harmony between the different parts
of our nature. The perfection of a compound
machine is attained where all its parts have the
fullest scope for action. Where one is so far
exerted as to repress others, there is a vice of
excess. When any one has less activity than it
might exert without disturbing others, there is
a vice of defect. The point which all reach
without collision against each other, is the me¬
diocrity in which the Peripatetics placed virtue.
It was not till near a century after the death
of Plato that Ethics became the scene of philo¬
sophical contest between the adverse schools of
Epicurus and Zeno; whose errors afford an in¬
structive example, that in the formation of the¬
ory, partial truth is equivalent to absolute
falsehood. As the astronomer who left either
the centripetal or the centrifugal force of the
planets out of his view, would err as completely
as he who excluded both, so the Epicureans and
Stoics, who each confined themselves to real but
not exclusive principles in morals, departed as
widely from the truth as if they had adopted no
part of it. Every partial theory is indeed di¬
rectly false, inasmuch as it ascribes to one or
few causes what is produced by more. As the
extreme opinions of one if not both of these
schools have been often revived with variations
and refinements in modern times, and are still
not without influence on ethical systems, it may
be allowable to make some observations on this
earliest of moral controversies.
“ All other virtues,” said Epicurus, “ grow \
, from prudence, which teaches that we cannot live
pleasurably without living justly and virtuously,
nor live j ustly and virtuously without living plea¬
surably.”2 The illustration of this sentence ^
‘ formed the whole moral discipline of Epicurus.
To him we owe the general concurrence of reflect¬
ing men in succeeding times, in the important
truth, that men cannot be happy without a vir¬
tuous frame of mind and course of life; a truth
of inestimable value, not peculiar to the Epicu¬
reans, but placed by their exaggerations in a
stronger light;—a truth? it must be added, of
1 “ Una et consentiens duobus vocabulis philosophise forma instituta est, Academicorum et Peripateticorum; qui rebus
congruentes, nominibus differebant.” (Cic. Acad. Qucest. i. 4 ) BcuXtrai (AgHrmriXns) $irrov uvai rov Kara QiXiirotpiat Xoyt*' *•<”
fit'J TgaKriKov, rov 2s ^s&ijxrsxov. kcu rov 1'^axriKov, roy n tidixov xai •proXtrixty" rev 3s (tagririKeV) rcy ri fenxey xui XeyiKey- (DlO0,
Laert. v. 28.)
* Eric. ad Mencec. apud Diog. Laert. lib. x. edit. Meibom. I. 653, 656.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
303
less importance as a motive to right conduct
than to the completeness of Moral Theory,
which, however, it is very far from solely con¬
stituting. With that truth the Epicureans
blended another position, which indeed is con¬
tained in the first words of the above statement;
namely, that because virtue promotes happi¬
ness, every act of virtue must he done in order
to promote the happiness of the agent. They
and their modern followers tacitly assume, that
the latter position is the consequence of the for¬
mer; as if it were an inference from the necessity
of food to life, that the fear of death should he
substituted for the appetite of hunger as a mo¬
tive for eating. “ Friendship,” says Epicurus,
“ is to be pursued by the wise man only for its
usefulness, hut he will begin as he sows the
field in order to reap.”1 It is obvious, that if
these words be confined to outward benefits,
they may he sometimes true, hut never can he
pertinent; for outward acts sometimes show
kindness, hut never compose it. If they he ap¬
plied to kind feeling they would indeed he per¬
tinent, but they would he evidently and totally
false; for it is most certain that no man ac¬
quires an affection merely from his belief that
it would he agreeable or advantageous to feel it.
Kindness cannot indeed he pursued on account
of the pleasure which belongs to it; for man
can no more know the pleasure till he has felt
the affection, than he can form an idea of colour
without the sense of sight. The moral charac¬
ter of Epicurus was excellent; no man more
enjoyed the pleasure or better performed the
duties of friendship. The letter of his system
was no more indulgent to vice than that of any
other moralist.2 Although, therefore, he has
the merit of having more strongly inculcated
the connection of virtue with happiness, perhaps
by the faulty excess of treating it as an exclu¬
sive principle; yet his doctrine was justly
charged with indisposing the mind to those
exalted and generous sentiments, without which
no pure, elevated, hold, generous, or tender
virtues can exist.5
As Epicurus represented the tendency of vir¬
tue, which is a rfiost important truth in ethical
theory, as the sole inducement to virtuous
practice; so Zeno, in his disposition towards
the opposite extreme, was inclined to consider
the moral sentiments which are the motives
of right conduct, as being the sole principles
of moral science. The confusion was equally
great in a philosophical view; but that of Epi-
curute was more fatal to interests of higher im¬
portance than those of philosophy. Had the
Stoics been content with affirming that virtue
is the source of all that part of our happiness
which depends on ourselves, they would have
taken a position from which it would have been
impossible to drive them; they would have laid
down a principle of as great comprehension in
practice as their wider pretensions; a simple
and incontrovertible truth, beyond which every
thing is an object of mere curiosity to man.
Our information, however, about the opinions
of the more celebrated Stoics is very scanty.
None of their own writings are preserved. We
know little of them but from Cicero, the trans¬
lator of Grecian philosophy, and from the Greek
compilers of a later age; authorities which
would be imperfect in the history of facts, but
which are of far less value in the history of
opinions, where a right conception often depends
upon the minutest distinctions between words.
We know that Zeno was more simple, and that
Chrysippus, who was accounted the prop of the
Stoic Porch, abounded more in subtile distinc¬
tion and systematic spirit.4 His power was at¬
tested as much by the antagonists whom he call¬
ed forth, as by the scholars whom he formed.
“ Had there been no Chrysippus, there would
1 T„v ([uXim W ms xeuxs. (Diog. Laert. ibid.) “ Hie est locus,” Gassendi confesses, “ ob quern Epicurus non
parum vexatur, quando nemo non reprehendit, parari amicitiam non sui, sed utilitatis gratia. ’
2 It is due to him to observe, that he treated humanity towards slaves, as one of the characteristics of a wise man.^
Ovts KoXatrtiv oix-tccSi //.sv vol^ xxi tru,yfyvcoluf]V rtvi tmv tTWOV^xiMV. (l)lOG. X.AERT. ibid. Cc>3.) It is not UnwortllV of
remark, that neither Plato nor Epicurus thought it necessary to abstain Ironi these topics in a city full of slaves, many oi
whom were men not destitute of knowledge.
3 “ Nil generosum, nil magnificum sapit.” Cicero. , , ......
* “ Chrysippus, qui fulcire putatur porticum Stoicorum.” Cicero. Elsewhere, “ Acutissimus, sed in senbendo exuis
et jejunus', scripsit rhetoricam seu potius obmutescendi artemnearly as we should speak of a Schoolman.
304
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
have been no Carneades,” was the saying of the
latter philosopher himself; as it might have been
said in the eighteenth century, “ Had there been
no Hume, there would have been no Kant and
no Reid.” Cleanthes, when one of his followers
would pay court to him by laying vices to the
charge of his most formidable opponent, Arcesi-
laus the academic, answered with a justice and
candour unhappily too rare, “ Silence,—do not
malign him ;—though he attacks virtue by his
arguments, he confirms its authority by his life.”
Arcesilaus, whether modestly or churlishly, re¬
plied, “I do not choose to be flattered.” Cleanthes,
with a superiority of repartee, as well as chari¬
ty, replied, “ Is it flattery to say that you speak
one thing and do another ?” It would be vain
to expect that the fragments of the Professors
who lectured in the Stoic School for five hundred
years, should be capable of being moulded into
one consistent system ; and we see that in Epic¬
tetus at least, the exaggeration of the sect was
lowered to the level of reason, by confining the
sufficiency of virtue to those cases only where
happiness is attainable by our voluntary acts.
It ought to be added, in extenuation of a noble
error, that the power of habit and character to
struggle against outward evils has been proved
by experience to be in some instances so prodi¬
gious, that no man can presume to fix the ut¬
most limit of its possible increase.
The attempt, however, of the Stoics to stretch
the bounds of their system beyond the limits of
nature, produced the inevitable inconvenience
of dooming them to fluctuate between a wild
fanaticism on the one hand, and, on the other,
concessions which left their differences from
other philosophers purely verbal. Many of their
doctrines appear to be modifications of their
original opinions, introduced as opposition be¬
came more formidable. In this manner they
were driven to the necessity of admitting that
the objects of our desires and appetites are
worthy of preference, though they are denied
to be constituents of happiness. It was thus
that they were obliged to invent a double mo¬
rality; one for mankind at large, from whom
was expected no more than the xafyw,—which
seems principally to have denoted acts of duty
done from inferior or mixed motives; and the
other, which they appear to have hoped from
their ideal wise man, is xaro^w/Aa, or perfect
observance of rectitude,—which consisted only
in moral acts done from mere reverence for
morality, unaided by any feelings; all which
(without the exception of pity) they classed
among the enemies of reason and the disturbers
of the human soul. Thus did they shrink from
their proudest paradoxes into verbal evasions.
It is remarkable that men so acute did not per¬
ceive and acknowledge, that if pain were not
an evil, cruelty would not be a vice; and that if
patience were of power to render torture in¬
different, virtue must expire in the moment of
victory. There can be no more triumph when
there is no enemy left to conquer.1
The influence of men’s opinions on the con¬
duct of their lives is checked and modified by
so many causes—it so much depends on the
strength of conviction, on its habitual combina¬
tion with feelings, on the concurrence or resist¬
ance of interest, passion, example, and sympa¬
thy—that a wise man is not the most forward in
attempting to determine the power of its single
operation over human actions. In the case of
an individual it becomes altogether uncertain.
But when the experiment is made on a large
scale, when it is long continued and varied in
its circumstances, and especially when great
bodies of men are for ages the subject of it, we
cannot reasonably reject the consideration of
the inferences to which it appears to lead. The
Roman Patriciate, trained in the conquest and
government of the civilized world, in spite of
the tyrannical vices wdiich sprung from that
training, were raised by the greatness of their
objects to an elevation of genius and character
unmatched by any other aristocracy; at the mo¬
ment when, after preserving their power by a
long course of wise compromise with the people,
they were betrayed by the army and the popu¬
lace into the hands of a single tyrant of their
oivn order—the most accomplished of usurpers,
1 “ Patience, sovereign o’er transmuted ill.” But as soon as the ill was really “ transmuted” into good, it is evident that
there was no longer any scope left for the exercise of patience.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
305
and, if humanity and justice could for a moment
be silenced, one of the most illustrious of men.
There is no scene in history so memorable as
that in which Caesar mastered a nobility of
which Lucullus and Hortensius, Sulpicius and
Catulus, Pompey and Cicero, Brutus and Cato,
were members. This renowned body had from
the time of Scipio sought the Greek philosophy
as an amusement or an ornament. Some few,
“ in thought more elevate,” caught the love of
truth, and were ambitious of discovering a solid
foundation for the Rule of Life. The influence
of the Grecian systems was tried by their effect
on a body of men of the utmost originality,
energy, and variety of character, during the five
centuries between Carneades and Constantine, in
their successive positions of rulers of the world,
and of slaves under the best and under the worst
of uncontrolled masters. If we had found this in¬
fluence perfectly uniform, we should have j ustly
suspected our own love of system of having in part
bestowed that appearance on it. Had there been
no trace of such an influence discoverable in so
great an experiment, we must have acquiesced
in the paradox, that opinion does not at all affect
conduct. The result is the more satisfactory,
because it appears to illustrate general tendency
without excluding very remarkable exceptions.
Though Cassius was an Epicurean, the true re¬
presentative of that school was the accomplished,
prudent, friendly, good-natured timeserver At-
ticus, the pliant slave of every tyrant, who could
kiss the hand of Antony, imbrued as it was in
the blood of Cicero. The pure school of Plato
sent forth Marcus Brutus, the signal humanity
of whose life was both necessary and sufficient
to prove that his daring breach of venerable
rules flowed only from that dire necessity which
left no other means of upholding the most sacred
principles. The Roman orator, though in spe¬
culative questions he embraced that mitigated
doubt which allowed most ease and freedom to
his genius, yet in those moral writings where
his heart was most deeply interested, followed
the severest sect of philosophy, and became al¬
most a Stoic. If any conclusion may be ha¬
zarded from this trial of systems, the greatest
which history has recorded, we must not refuse
our decided though not undistinguishing pre¬
ference to that noble school which preserved
great souls untainted at the court of dissolute
and ferocious tyrants; which exalted the slave
of one of Nero’s courtiers to be a moral teacher
of aftertimes; which for the first, and hitherto
for the only time, breathed philosophy and jus¬
tice into those rules of law which govern the
ordinary concerns of every man; and which,
above all, has contributed, by the examples of
Marcus Porcius Cato and of Marcus Aurelius
Antoninus, to raise the dignity of our species,
to keep alive a more ardent love of virtue, and
a more awful sense of duty, throughout all ge¬
nerations. 1
The result of this short review of the practi¬
cal philosophy of Greece seems to be, that though
it was rich in rules for the conduct of life, and
in exhibitions of the beauty of virtue, and though
it contains glimpses of just theory and fragments
of perhaps every moral truth, yet it did not leave
behind any precise and coherent system ; un¬
less we except that of Epicurus, who purchased
consistency, method, and perspicuity too dearly
by the sacrifice of truth, and by narrowing and
lowering his views of human nature, so as to
enfeeble, if not extinguish, all the vigorous mo¬
tives to arduous virtue. It is remarkable, that
while of the eight Professors who taught in the
Porch, from Zeno to Posidonius, everyone either
softened or exaggerated the doctrines of his pre¬
decessor ; and while the beautiful and reverend
philosophy of Plato had, in his own Academy,
degenerated into a scepticism which did not
spare morality itself, the system of Epicurus re¬
mained without change; and his disciples con¬
tinued for ages to show personal honours to his
memory, in a manner which may seem unac¬
countable among those who were taught to
measure propriety by a calculation of palpable
.1 9f a11 testimonies to the character of the Stoics, perhaps the most decisive is the speech of the vile sycophant Ca-
pito, in the mock impeachment of Thrasea Paetus, before a senate of slaves: “ Ut quondam C. Caesarem et M. Catonem,
'\unc_te, Nero, et Thraseam, avida discordiarum civitas loquitur...Ista secta Tuberones et Favonios, veteri quoque rei-
pubhcae ingrata nomina, genuit.” (Tacit. Ann. xvL 22.)
See Notes and Illustrations, note A.
diss. ii. 2 2
306
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ahd outward usefulness. This steady adhe¬
rence is in part doubtless attributable to the por¬
tion of truth which the doctrine contains; in
some degree perhaps to the amiable and unboast¬
ful character of Epicurus; not a little, it may
be, to the dishonour of deserting an unpopular
cause ; but probably most of all to that mental
indolence which disposes the mind to rest in a
simple system, comprehended at a glance, and
easily falling in, both with ordinary maxims of
discretion, and with the vulgar commonplaces
of satire on human nature.1 When all instruc¬
tion was conveyed by lectures, and when one
master taught the whole circle of the sciences
in one school, it was natural that the attachment
of pupils to a Professor should be more devoted
than when, as in our times, he can teach only a
small portion of a knowledge spreading towards
infinity, and even in his own little province
finds a rival in every good writer who has treat¬
ed the same subject. The superior attachment
of the Epicureans to their master is not without
some parallel among the followers of similar
principles in our own age, who have also re¬
vived some part of that indifference to eloquence
and poetry which may be imputed to the habit
of contemplating all things in relation to happi¬
ness, and to (what seems its uniform effect) the
egregious miscalculation which leaves a multi¬
tude of mental pleasures out of the account. It
may be said, indeed, that the Epicurean doctrine
has continued with little change to the present
day; at least it is certain that no other ancient
doctrine has proved so capable of being restored
in the same form among the moderns; and it
may be added, that Hobbes and Gassendi, as
well as some of our own contemporaries, are as
confident in their opinions, and as intolerant of
scepticism, as the old Epicureans. The resem¬
blance of modern to ancient opinions, concern¬
ing some of those questions upon which ethical
controversy must always hinge, may be a suf¬
ficient excuse for a retrospect of the Greek mo¬
rals ; which it is hoped will simplify and shorten
subsequent observation on those more recent
disputes which form the proper subject of this
discourse.
The genius of Greece fell with liberty. The
Grecian philosophy received its mortal wound
in the contests between scepticism and dogma¬
tism which occupied the schools in the age of
Cicero. The Sceptics could only perplex, and
confute, and destroy. Their occupation was
gone as soon as they succeeded. They had
nothing to substitute for what they overthrew;
and they rendered their own art of no further
use. They were no more than venomous ani¬
mals, who stung their victims to death, but also
breathed their last into the wound. A third
age of Grecian literature indeed arose at Alex¬
andria, under the Macedonian kings of Egypt;
laudably distinguished by exposition, criticism,
and imitation, sometimes abused for the pur¬
poses of literary forgery, still more honoured by
some learned and highly-cultivated poets, as
well as by diligent cultivators of history and
science; among whom some began about the
first preaching of Christianity to turn their
minds once more to that high philosophy which
seeks for the fundamental principles of human
knowledge. Philo, a learned and philosophical
Hebrew, one of the flourishing colony of his na¬
tion established in that city, endeavoured to re¬
concile the Platonic Philosophy with the Mosaic
Law and the Sacred Books of the Old Testa¬
ment. About the end of the second century,
when the Christians, Hebrews, Pagans, and va¬
rious other sects of semi or Pseudo-Christian
Gnostics appear to have studied in the same
schools, the almost inevitable tendency of doc¬
trines, however discordant, in such circum¬
stances to amalgamate, produced its full effect
under Ammonius Saccas; a celebrated Professor,
who, by selection from the Greek systems, the
Hebrew books, the oriental religions, and by some
of that concession to the rising spirit of Christi¬
anity, of which the Gnostics had set the example,
composed a very mixed system, commonly de-
1 The progress of commonplace satire on sexes or professions, and (he might have added) on nations, has been exquisitely
touched by Gray in his Itemarks on Lydgate ; a fragment containing passages as finely thought and written as any in Eng¬
lish prose. (Guay’s Works, Matthias’s edition, vol. I. p. 55.) General satire on mankind is still more absurd; for no in¬
vective can be so unreasonable as that which is founded on falling short of an ideal standard.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
signated as the Eclectic Philosophy. The con¬
troversies between his contemporaries and fol¬
lowers, especially those of Clement and Ori-
gen, the victorious champions of Christianity,
with Plotinus and Porphyry, who endeavoured
to preserve Paganism by clothing it in a dis¬
guise of philosophical Theism, are, from the
effects towards which they contributed, the most
307
memorable in the history of human opinion.1
But their connection with modern ethics is too
faint to warrant any observation in this place,
on the imperfect and partial memorials of them
which have reached us. The death of Boethius
in the west, and the closing of the Athenian
schools by Justinian, may be considered as the
last events in the history of ancient philosophy.8
SECTION III.
Retrospect of Scholastic Ethics.
An interval of a thousand years elapsed be¬
tween the close of ancient and the rise of modern
philosophy; the most unexplored, yet not the
least instructive portion of the history of Euro¬
pean opinion. In that period the sources of the
institutions, the manners, the characteristic dis¬
tinctions of modern nations, have been traced
by a series of philosophical inquirers from Mon¬
tesquieu to Hallam; and there also, it may be
added, more than among the ancients, are the
wellsprings of our speculative doctrines and
controversies. Far from being inactive, the hu¬
man mind, during that period of exaggerated
darkness, produced discoveries in science, in¬
ventions in art, and contrivances in government,
some of which, perhaps, were rather favoured
than hindered by the disorders of society, and
by the twilight in which men and things were
seen. Had Boethius, the last of the ancients,
foreseen, that within two centuries of his death,
in the province of Britain, then a prey to all
the horrors of barbaric invasion, a chief of one
of the fiercest tribes of barbarians should trans¬
late into the jargon of his freebooters the work
on The Consolations of Philosophy, of which the
composition had soothed the cruel imprisonment
of the philosophic Roman himself, he must, even
amidst his sufferings, have derived some grati¬
fication from such an assurance of the recovery
of mankind from ferocity and ignorance. But
had he been allowed to revisit the earth in the
middle of the sixteenth century, with what
wonder and delight might he have contemplated
the new and fairer order which was beginning
to disclose its beauty, and to promise more than
it revealed. He would have seen personal sla¬
very nearly extinguished, and women, first re¬
leased from oriental imprisonment by the Greeks,
and raised to a higher dignity among the Ro¬
mans,5 at length fast approaching to due equa¬
lity; two revolutions the most signal and be¬
neficial since the dawn of civilisation. He
1 The change attempted by Julian, Porphyry, and their friends, by which Theism would have become the popular reli-
Rion, may be estimated by the memorable passage of Tacitus on the Theism of the Jews. In the midst of all the obloquy
and opprobrium with which he loads that people, his tone suddenly rises when he comes to contemplate them as the only
nation who paid religious honours to the supreme and eternal mind alone, and his style swells at the sight of so sublime and
wonderful a scene. “ Summum illud atque aetemum, neque mutabile neque interiturum.” . _ .
’ The punishment of death was inflicted on Pagans by a law of Constantins. “ Volumus cunctos sacrmcns abstinere.
Si aliquid hujusmodi perpetraverint, gladio ultore sternantur.” (Cod. I. tit. xi. de Paganis, A. D. 343 or 346.) Trom the
authorities cited by Gibbon, (note, chap, xi.) as well as from some research, it should seem that the edict for the suppression
of the Athenian schools was not admitted into the vast collection of laws enacted or systematized by Justinian.
s The steps of this important progress, as far as relates to Athens and Home, are well remarked by one of the finest of
the Homan writers. “ Quern enim Romanorum pudet uxorem ducere in convivium ? aut cujus materfamilias non primuni
locum tenet tedium, atque in celebritate versatur ? quod multo fit aliter in Grsecia; nam neque in convivium adhibetur,
nisi propinquorum, neque sedet nisi in interiore parte aedium, quae Gynceconitii appellatur, quo nemo accedit, nisi propinqua
cognatione conjunctus.” (Coknex.. Nepos in Proefat.)
308
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
would have seen the discovery of gunpowder,
which for ever guarded civilized society against
barbarians, while it transferred military strength
from the few to the many; of paper and print¬
ing, which rendered a second destruction of the
repositories of knowledge impossible, as well as
opened a way by which it was to be finally ac¬
cessible to all mankind; of the compass, by
means of which navigation had ascertained the
form of the planet, and laid open a new con¬
tinent more extensive than his world. If he
had turned to civil institutions, he might have
learned that some nations had preserved an
ancient, simple, and seemingly rude mode of
legal proceeding, which threw into the hands
of the majority of men a far larger share of
judicial power than was enjoyed by them in
any ancient democracy. He would have seen
everywhere the remains of that principle of
representation, the glory of the Teutonic race,
by which popular government, anciently im¬
prisoned in cities, became capable of being
strengthened by its extension over vast coun¬
tries, to which experience cannot even now
assign any limits; and which, in times still dis¬
tant, was to exhibit, in the newly-discovered
continent, a republican confederacy, likely to
surpass the Macedonian and Roman empires in
extent, greatness, and duration, but gloriously
founded on the equal rights, not like them on
the universal subjection, of mankind. In one
respect, indeed, he might have lamented that
the race of man had made a really retrograde
movement; that they had lost the liberty of
philosophizing; that the open exercise of their
highest faculties was interdicted. But he might
also have perceived that this giant evil had re¬
ceived a mortal wound from Luther, who in his
warfare against Rome had struck a blow against
all human authority, and unconsciously dis¬
closed to mankind that they were entitled, or
rather bound, to form and utter their own opin¬
ions, and most of all on the most deeply in¬
teresting subjects : for although this most fruit¬
ful of moral truths was not yet so released from
its combination with the wars and passions of
the age as to assume a distinct and visible form,
its action was already discoverable in the divisions
among the Reformers, and in the fears and
struggles of civil and ecclesiastical oppressors.
The Council of Trent, and the Courts of Paris,
Madrid, and Rome, had before that time fore¬
boded the emancipation of reason.
Though the middle age be chiefly memorable
as that in which the foundations of a new order
of society were laid, uniting the stability of the
oriental system, without its inflexibility, to the
activity of the Hellenic civilisation, without its
disorder and inconstancy, yet it is not unworthy
of notice, on account of the subterranean cur¬
rent which flows through it, from the speculations
of ancient to those of modern times. That dark
stream must be uncovered before the history of
the European understanding can be thoroughly
comprehended. It was lawful for the emancipa¬
tors of reason in their first struggles to carry on
mortal war against the Schoolmen. The neces¬
sity has long ceased; they are no longer danger¬
ous; and it is now felt by philosophers that it is
time to explore and estimate that vast portion of
the history of philosophy from which we have
scornfully turned our eyes.1 A few sentences
only can be allotted to the subject in this place.
In the first moiety of the middle age, the dark¬
ness of Christendom was faintly broken by a few
thinly-scattered lights. Even then, Moses Ben
Maimon taught philosophy among the persecut¬
ed Hebrews, whose ancient schools had never
perhaps been wholly interrupted ; and a series of
distinguished Mahometans, among whom two are
known to us by the names of Avicenna and
Averroes, translated the Peripatetic writings
into their own language, expounded their doc¬
trines in no servile spirit to their followers, and
1 Tenneman-, Geschichte der Philosophic, VIII. It and. 1811. Cousin, Cours de I'llistoirc de la Philos, p. 20. Paris, 18-8.
My esteem for this admirable writer encourages me to say, that the beauty of his diction has sometimes the same eiiect
on his thoughts that a sunny haze produces on outward objects; and to submit to his serious consideration, whether the
allurements of Schelling’s system have not betrayed him into a too frequent forgetfulness that principles, equally adapted
to all phenomena, furnish in speculation no possible test of their truth, and lead, in practice, to total indifference and inac¬
tivity respecting human affairs. I quote with pleasure an excellent observation from this work. “ I.e moyen age n est
pas autre chose que la formation penible, lente et sanglante, de tous les elemens de la civilisation moderne; je dis la forma¬
tion, et non leur ddveloppement.” (P. 27-)
DISSERTATION SECOND.
309
enabled the European Christians to make those
versions of them from Arabic into Latin, which
in the eleventh and twelfth centuries gave birth
to the scholastic philosophy.
The schoolmen were properly theologians, who
employed philosophy only to define and support
that system of Christian belief which they and
their contemporaries had embraced. The founder
of that theological system was Aurelius Augusti¬
nus, 1 (called by us Augustin) bishop of Hippo, in
the province of Africa; a man of great genius and
ardent character, who adopted at different periods
of his life the most various, but at all times the
most decisive and systematic, as well as daring
and extreme opinions. This extraordinary man
became, after some struggles, the chief Doctor,
and for ages almost the sole oracle of the Latin
church. It happened by a singular accident,
that the schoolmen of the twelfth century, who
adopted his theology, instead of borrowing their
defensive weapons from Plato, the favourite of
their master, had recourse for the exposition and
maintenance of their doctrines to thfe writings of
Aristotle, the least pious of philosophical theists.
The Augustinian doctrines of original sin, pre¬
destination, and grace, little known to the ear¬
lier Christian writers, who appear indeed to
have adopted opposite and milder opinions, were
espoused by Augustin himself in his old age;
when by a violent swing from his youthful
Manicheism, which divided the sovereignty of
the world between two adverse beings, he did
not shrink, in his pious solicitude for tracing
the power of God in all events, from presenting
the most mysterious parts of the moral govern¬
ment of the universe, in their darkest colours
and their sternest shape, as articles of faith, the
objects of the habitual meditation and practical
assent of mankind. The principles of his rigor¬
ous system, though not with all their legitimate
consequences, were taught in the schools ; re¬
spectfully promulgated rather than much incul¬
cated by the western church (for in the East
these opinions seem to have been unknown);
scarcely perhaps distinctly assented to by the
majority of the clergy; and seldom heard of by
laymen till the systematic genius and fervid
eloquence of Calvin rendered them a popular
creed in the most devout and moral portion of
the Christian world. Anselm,2 the Piedmontese
archbishop of Canterbury, was the earliest re¬
viver of the Augustinian opinions. Aquinas3
was their most redoubted champion. To them,
however, the latter joined others of a different
spirit. Faith, according to him, was a virtue,
not in the sense in which it denotes the things
believed, but in that in which it signifies the
state of mind which leads to right belief. Good¬
ness he regarded as the moving principle of the
Divine government; justice, as a modification
of goodness; and, with all his zeal to magnify
the sovereignty of God, he yet taught, that
though God always wills what is just, nothing
is just solely because he wills it. Scotus,4 the
most subtile of doctors, recoils from the Augus¬
tinian rigour, though he rather intimates than
avows his doubts. He was assailed for his ten¬
dency towards the Pelagian or Anti-Augusti-
nian doctrines by many opponents, of whom
the most famous in his time was Thomas Brad-
wardine,5 archbishop of Canterbury, formerly
confessor of Edward HI., whose defence of pre¬
destination was among the most noted works of
that age. He revived the principles of the an¬
cient philosophers, who, from Plato to Marcus
Aurelius, taught that error of judgment, being
involuntary, is not the proper subject of moral
disapprobation; which indeed is implied in
Aquinas’s account of faith.6 But he appears to
have been the first whose language inclined to-
1 Notes and Illustrations, note B.
’ Died in 1109.
5 Born in 1224; died in 1279. Notes and Illustrations, note C.
4 Born about 1205; died at Cologne (where his grave is still shown) in 1308. Whether he was a native of Dunston
in Northumberland, or of Dunse in Berwickshire, or of Down in Ireland, was a question long and warmly contested, but
which seems to be settled by his biographer, Luke Wadding, who quotes a passage of Scotus’s Commentary on Aris¬
totle’s Metaphysics, where he illustrates his author thus : ‘k As in the definition of St 1* rancis, or St Patrick, man is ne¬
cessarily presupposed.” (Scoti Opera, I. 3.) As Scotus was a Franciscan, the mention of St Patrick seems to show that
he was an Irishman. Notes and Illustrations, note D.
5 Born about 1290; died in 1349 ; the contemporary of Chaucer, and probably a fellow-student of Wicliffe and
Roger Bacon. His principal work was entitled, De Causa Dei contra Pelagium, et de Virtute Causarum, Libri III.
* Notes and Illustrations, note E.
310
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
wards that most pernicious of moral heresies,
which represents morality to he founded on will.1
William of Ockham, the most justly celebrated
of English schoolmen, went so far beyond this
inclination of his master, as to affirm, that “ if
God had commanded his creatures to hate him¬
self, the hatred of God would ever be the duty
of man a monstrous hyperbole, into which
he was perhaps betrayed by his denial of the
doctrine of general ideas, the pre-existence of
which in the Eternal intellect was commonly
regarded as the foundation of the immutable
nature of morality, The doctrine of Ockham,
which by necessaiy implication refuses moral
attributes to the Deity, and contradicts the ex¬
istence of a moral government, is practically
equivalent to atheism.8 As all devotional feel¬
ings have moral qualities for their sole object;
as no being can inspire love or reverence other¬
wise than by those qualities which are naturally
amiable or venerable, this doctrine would, if
men were consistent, extinguish piety, or, in
other words, annihilate religion. Yet so asto¬
nishing are the contradictions of human nature,
that this most impious of all opinions probably
originated in a pious solicitude to magnify the
sovereignty of God, and to exalt his authority
even above his own goodness. Hence we may
understand its adoption by John Gerson, the
oracle of the Council of Constance, and the
great opponent of the spiritual monarchy of the
Pope; a pious mystic, who placed religion in
devout feeling.3 In further explanation, it
may be added, that Gerson was of the sect
of the Nominalists, of which Ockham was the
founder; and that he was the more ready to fol¬
low his master, because they both courageously
maintained the independence of the state on the
church, and the authority of the church over
the Pope. The general opinion of the schools
was, however, that of Aquinas, who, from the
native soundness of his own understanding, as
well as from the excellent example of Aristotle,
was averse from all rash and extreme dogmas
on questions which had any relation, however
distant, to the duties of life.
It is very remarkable, though hitherto unob¬
served, that Aquinas anticipated those contro¬
versies respecting perfect disinterestedness in
the religious affections which occupied the most
illustrious members of his communion4 four
hundred years after his death; and that he dis¬
cussed the like question respecting the other
affections of human nature with a fulness and
clearness, an exactness of distinction, and a
justness of determination, scarcely surpassed
by the most acute of modern philosophers.3 It
ought to be added, that, according to the most
natural and reasonable construction of his words,
he allowed to the church a control only over
spiritual concerns, and recognised the supremacy
of the civil powers in all temporal affairs.6
It has already been stated that the scholastic
system was a collection of dialectical sub til ties,
contrived for the support of the corrupted Chris¬
tianity of that age, by a succession of divines,
whose extraordinary powers of distinction and
reasoning were morbidly enlarged in the long
meditation of the cloister, by the exclusion of
every other pursuit, and the consequent palsy
of every other faculty; who were cut off from
all the materials on which the mind can operate,
and doomed for ever to toil in defence of what they
must never dare to examine ; to whom their age
and their condition denied the means of acquiring
literature, of observing nature, or of. studying
mankind. The few in whom any portion of ima¬
gination and sensibility survived this discipline,
retired from the noise of debate, to the contem¬
plation of pure and beautiful visions. They
1 Notes and Illustrations, note F. ,
5 A passage to this effect, from Ockham, with nearly the same remark, has, since the text was written, been discovered
on a re-perusal of Cudworth’s Immutable Morality. See p. 10.
1 “ Remitto ad quod Occam de hac materia in Lib. Sentent. dicit, in qua explicatione si rudis judicetur, nescio quid ap-
pellabitur subtilitas.” (Gerson de Vita Spirit. Op. III. 14. Hag. Com. 1728.)
4 Bossuet and Fenelon.
* See Aquinas, Comm, in in. Lib. Sentent. distinctio xxix. qusest. i. art. 3. “ Utrum Deus sit super omnia dihgendui
ex charitate.” Art. 4. “ Utrum in dilectione Dei possit haberi respectus ad aliquam mercedem.” (Opera, IX. 322, 325.)
Some illustrations of this memorable anticipation, which has escaped the research even of the industrious Tenneman, win
be found in the Notes and Illustrations, note G.
* Notes and Illustrations, note H.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
311
were called Mystics. The greater part, driven
back on themselves, had no better employment
than to weave cobwebs out of the terms of art
which they had vainly, though ingeniously, mul¬
tiplied. The institution of clerical celibacy,
originating in an enthusiastic pursuit of purity,
promoted by a mistake in moral prudence, which
aimed at raising religious teachers in the esteem
of their fellows, and at concentrating their whole
minds on professional duties, at last, encouraged
by the ambitious policy of the see of Rome, de¬
sirous of detaching them from all ties but her
own, had the effect of shutting up all the avenues
which Providence has opened for the entrance
of social affection and virtuous feeling into the
human heart. Though this institution perhaps
prevented knowledge from becoming once more
the exclusive inheritance of a sacerdotal caste;
though the rise of innumerable laymen, of the
lowest condition, to the highest dignities of the
church, was the grand democratical principle of
the middle age, and one of the most powerful
agents in impelling mankind towards a better
order; yet celibacy must be considered as one of
the peculiar infelicities of these secluded philo¬
sophers; not only as it abridged their happiness,
nor even solely, though chiefly, as it excluded
them from the school in which the heart is hu¬
manized, but also (an inferior consideration, but
more pertinent to our present purpose) because
the extinction of these moral feelings was as
much a subtraction from the moralist’s store of
facts and means of knowledge, as the loss of
sight or of touch could prove to those of the
naturalist.
Neither let it be thought that to have been
destitute of letters was to them no more than a
want of ornament and a curtailment of gratifi¬
cation. Every poem, every history, every ora¬
tion, every picture, every statue, is an experi¬
ment on human feeling, the grand object of
investigation by the moralist. Every work of
genius in every department of ingenious art and
polite literature, in proportion to the extent and
duration of its sway over the spirits of men, is
a repository of ethical facts, of which the moral
philosopher cannot be deprived by his own in¬
sensibility or by the iniquity of the times, with¬
out being robbed of the most precious instru¬
ments and invaluable materials of his science.
Moreover, letters, which are closer to human
feeling than science can ever be, have another
influence on the sentiments with which the
sciences are viewed, on the activity with which
they are pursued, on the safety with which they
are preserved, and even on the mode and spirit
in which they are cultivated: they are the
channels by which ethical science has a constant
intercourse with general feeling. As the arts
called useful maintain the popular honour of
physical knowledge, so polite letters allure the
world into the neighbourhood of the sciences of
mind and of morals. Whenever the agreeable
vehicles of literature do not convey their doc¬
trines to the public, they are liable to be inter¬
rupted by the dispersion of a handful of recluse
doctors, and the overthrow of their barren and
unlamented seminaries. Nor is this all: these
sciences themselves suffer as much when they
are thus released from the curb of common
sense and natural feeling, as the public loses by
the want of those aids to right practice which
moral knowledge in its sound state is qualified
to afford. The necessity of being intelligible at
least to all persons who join superior under¬
standing to habits of reflection, who are them¬
selves in constant communication with the far
wider circle of intelligent and judicious men,
which slowly but surely forms general opinion,
is the only effectual check on the natural prone¬
ness of metaphysical speculations to degenerate
into gaudy dreams or a mere war of words.
The disputants who are set free from the whole¬
some check of sense and feeling, generally carry
their dogmatism so far as to rouse the sceptic,
who from time to time is provoked to look into
the flimsiness of their cobwebs, and rushes in
with his besom to sweep them and their systems
into oblivion. It is true that literature, which
thus draws forth moral science from the schools
into the world, and recalls her from thorny dis¬
tinctions to her natural alliance with the intel¬
lect and sentiments of mankind, may, in ages
and nations otherwise situated, produce the
contrary evil of rendering Ethics shallow, decla¬
matory, and inconsistent. Europe at this mo¬
ment affords, in different countries, specimens
of these opposite and alike-mischievous extremes.
312
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
But we are now concerned only with the temp¬
tations and errors of the scholastic age.
We ought not so much to wonder at the mis¬
takes of men so situated, as that they, without
the restraints of the general understanding, and
with the clogs of system and establishment,
should in so many instances have opened ques¬
tions untouched by the more unfettered ancients,
and veins of speculation since mistakenly sup¬
posed to have been first explored in more mo¬
dern times. Scarcely any metaphysical contro¬
versy agitated among recent philosophers was
unknown to the schoolmen, unless we except
that which relates to liberty and necessity, which
would be an exception of doubtful propriety;
for the disposition to it is clearly discoverable in
the disputes of the Thomists and Scotists re¬
specting the Augustinian and Pelagian doc¬
trines,1 although restrained from the avowal of
legitimate consequences on either side by the
theological authority which both parties acknow¬
ledged. The Scotists steadily affirmed the blame¬
lessness of erroneous opinion; a principle which
is the only effectual security for conscientious
inquiry, for mutual kindness, and for public
quiet. The controversy between the Nominal¬
ists and Realists, treated by some modern wri¬
ters as an example of barbarous wrangling, was
in truth an anticipation of that modern dispute
which still divides metaphysicians, whether the
human mind can form general ideas, and whe¬
ther the words which are supposed to convey
such ideas he not general terms, representing
only a number of particular perceptions?—ques¬
tions so far from frivolous, that they deeply con¬
cern both the nature of reasoning and the struc¬
ture of language;—on which Hobbes, Berkeley,
Hume, Stewart, and Tooke, have followed the
Nominalists; and Descartes, Locke, Reid, and
Kant, have, with various modifications and some
inconsistencies, adopted the doctrine of the
Realists.2 With the schoolmen appears to have
originated the form, though not the substance,
of the celebrated maxim, which, whether true
or false, is pregnant with systems, “ There is
nothing in the understanding which was not be¬
fore in the senses.”3 Ockham4 the Nominalist
first denied the Peripatetic doctrine of the exist¬
ence of certain species (since the time of Des¬
cartes called ideas) as the direct objects of per¬
ception and thought, interposed between the
mind and outward objects; the modern oppo¬
sition to which by Dr Reid has been supposed
to justify the allotment of so high a station to
that respectable philosopher. He taught also
that we know nothing of mind hut its acts,
of which we are conscious. More inclination
towards an independent philosophy is to he
traced among the schoolmen than might be ex¬
pected from their circumstances. Those who
follow two guides will sometimes choose for
themselves, and may prefer the subordinate on
some occasions. Aristotle rivalled the church;
and the church herself safely allowed consider¬
able latitude to the philosophical reasonings of
those who were only heard or read in colleges
or cloisters, on condition that they neither im¬
pugned her authority, nor dissented from her
worship, nor departed from the language of her
creeds. The Nominalists were a freethinking
sect, who, notwithstanding their defence of
kings against the court of Rome, were perse¬
cuted by the civil power. It should not be for¬
gotten that Luther was a Nominalist.5
If not more remarkable, it is more pertinent
to our purpose, that the ethical system of the
schoolmen, or, to speak more properly, of Aqui¬
nas, as the moral master of Christendom for
three centuries, was in its practical part so ex¬
cellent as to leave little need of extensi ve change,
1 Notes and Illustrations, note I.
s Locke speaks on this subject inconsistently ; Reid calls himself a Conceptualist; Kant uses terms so different that he
ought perhaps to be considered as of neither party. Leibnitz, varying in some measure from the general spirit of his specu¬
lations, warmly panegyrizes the Nominalists : “ Secta Nominalium, omnium inter scholasticos profundissima, et hodi-
ernse reformatae philosophandi rationi congruentissima.” (Leibn. Op. IV. Pars i. p. 59.)
3 Nil est in intellectu quod non prius fuit in sensu.
* “ Maximi vir ingenii, et eruditionis pro illo aevo summae, Wilhelmus Occam, Anglus.” (Leien. ibid. p. 60.) The
writings of Ockham, which are very rare, I have never seen. I owe my knowledge of them to Tenneman, who however
quotes the words of Ockham, and of his disciple Biel.
5 “ In Martini Lutheri scriptis prioribus amor Nominalium satis elucet, donee in omnes monachos aequaliter affectus
esse coepit.” (Leibn. IV. Pars i. p. 60.)
DISSERTATION SECOND.
313
with the inevitable exception of the connection
of his religious opinions with his precepts and
counsels. His rule of life is neither lax nor im¬
practicable. His grounds of duty are solely laid
in the nature of man, and in the wellbeing of
society. Such an intruder as subtilty seldom
strays into his moral instructions. With a most
imperfect knowledge of the Peripatetic writings,
he came near the great master, by abstaining,
in practical philosophy, from the unsuitable ex¬
ercise of that faculty of distinction, in which he
would probably have shown that he was little
inferior to Aristotle if he had been equally un¬
restrained. His very frequent coincidence with
modern moralists is doubtless to be ascribed
chiefly to the nature of the subject; but in part
also to that unbroken succession of teachers and
writers, which preserved the observations con¬
tained in what bad been long the text-book of
the European schools, after the books themselves
had been for ages banished and forgotten. The
praises bestowed on Aquinas by every one of the
few great men who appear to have examined
Ids writings since the downfall of his power,
among whom may be mentioned Erasmus, Gro-
tius and Leibnitz, are chiefly, though not sole¬
ly, referable to his ethical works.1
Though the schoolmen had thus anticipated
many modern controversies of a properly meta¬
physical sort, they left untouched most of those
questions of ethical theory which were unknown
to, or neglected by the ancients. They do not
appear to have discriminated between the nature
of moral sentiments, and the criterion of moral
acts; to have considered to what faculty of our
mind moral approbation is referable ; or to have
inquired whether our moral faculty, whatever it
may be, is implanted or acquired. Those who
measure only by palpable results, have very
consistently regarded the metaphysical and theo-.
logical controversies of the schools as a mere
waste of intellectual power. But the contem¬
plation of the athletic vigour and versatile skill
manifested by the European understanding, at
the moment when it emerged from this tedious
and rugged discipline, leads, if not to approba¬
tion, yet to more qualified censure. What
might have been the result of a different combi¬
nation of circumstances, is an inquiry which,
on a large scale, is beyond human power. We
may however venture to say, that no abstract
science, unconnected with religion, was likely
to be respected in a barbarous age ; and we may
be allowed to doubt whether any knowledge,
dependent directly on experience, and appli¬
cable to immediate practice, would have so
trained the European mind as to qualify it for
that series of inventions, and discoveries, and
institutions, which begins with the sixteenth
century, and of which no end can now be fore¬
seen but the extinction of the race of man.
The fifteenth century was occupied by the
disputes of the Realists with the Nominalists,
in which the scholastic doctrine expired. After
its close no schoolman of note appeared. The
sixteenth may be considered as the age of tran¬
sition from the scholastic to the modern philo¬
sophy. The former, indeed, retained posses¬
sion of the Universities, and was long after dis¬
tinguished by all the ensigns of authority. But
the mines were already prepared. The revolu¬
tion in opinion had commenced. The moral
writings of the preceding times had generally
been commentaries on that part of the Summa
Theologies of Aquinas which relates to Ethics.
Though these still continued to be published,
yet the most remarkable moralists of the six¬
teenth century indicated the approach of other
modes of thinking, by the adoption of the more
independent titles of Treatises on Justice and
Law. These titles were suggested, and the
spirit, contents, and style of the writings them¬
selves, were materially affected by the improved
cultivation of the Roman law, by the renewed
study of ancient literature, and by the revival
of various systems of Greek philosophy, now
studied in the original, which at once mitigated
and rivalled the scholastic doctors, and while
they rendered philosophy more free, re-opened its
communications with society and affairs. The
speculative theology which had arisen under
the French governments of Paris and London
DISS. II.
1 See especially the excellent Preface of Leibnitz to Nizolius, sect. 37.
2 a
314
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
in tlie twelfth century, which flourished in the
thirteenth in Italy in the hands of Aquinas,
which was advanced in the British islands by
Scotus and Ockham in the fourteenth, was, in
the sixteenth, with unabated acuteness, but with
a clearness and elegance unknown before the
restoration of letters, cultivated by Spain, in
that age the most powerful and magnificent of
the European nations.
Many of these writers treated the law of war
and the practice of hostilities in a juridical form.1
Francis Victoria, who began to teach at Valla¬
dolid in 1525, is said to have first expounded
the doctrines of the schools in the language of
the age of Leo the Tenth. Dominic Soto,2 a Do¬
minican, the confessor of Charles V., and the
oracle of the Council of Trent, to whom that
assembly were indebted for much of the preci¬
sion and even elegance for which their doctrinal
decrees are not unjustly commended, dedicated
his treatise on Justice and Law to Don Car¬
los ; in terms of praise which, used by a writer
who is said to have declined the high dignities
«f the church, lead us to hope that he was un¬
acquainted with the brutish vices of that wretch¬
ed prince. It is a concise and not inelegant
compound of the scholastic Ethics, which con¬
tinued to be of considerable authority for more
than a century.5 Both he and his master Vic¬
toria deserve to be had in everlasting remem¬
brance, for the part which they took on behalf
of the natives of America and ot Africa, against
the rapacity and cruelty of the Spaniards. Vic¬
toria pronounced war against the Americans for
their vices or for their paganism to be unjust.4
Soto was the authority chiefly consulted by
Charles V., on occasion of the conference held
before him at Valladolid, in 1542, between Se¬
pulveda, an advocate of the Spanish colonists,
and Las Casas, the champion of the unhappy
Americans ; of which the result was a very im¬
perfect edict of reformation in 1543, which,
though it contained little more than a recogni¬
tion of the principle of justice, almost excited a
rebellion in Mexico. Sepulveda, a scholar and
a reasoner, advanced many maxims which wrere
specious, and in themselves reasonable, but
which practically tended to defeat even the
scanty and almost illusive reform which en¬
sued. Las Casas was a passionate missionary,
whose zeal, kindled by the long and near con¬
templation of cruelty, prompted him to exagge¬
rations of fact and argument;5 yet, with all its
errors, it afforded the only hope of preserving the
natives of America from extirpation. The opin¬
ion of Soto could not fail to be conformable to
his excellent principle, that “ there can be no
difference between Christians and Pagans, for
the law of nations is equal to all nations.”6 To
Soto belongs the signal honour of being the first
writer who condemned the African slave-trade.
“ It is affirmed,” says he, “ that the unhappy
Ethiopians are by fraud or force carried away
and sold as slaves. If this is true, neither those
who have taken them, nor those who purchased
them, nor those who hold them in bondage, can
ever have a quiet conscience till they emancipate
them, even if no compensation should be ob¬
tained.”7 As the work which contains this
memorable condemnation of man-stealing and
slavery was the substance of lectures many years
delivered at Salamanca, philosophy and religion
1 Many of the separate dissertations, on points of this nature, are contained in the immense collection entitled Tractates
Tractatuum, published at Venice in 1584, under the patronage of the Roman see. There are three dc Bello; one by Lupus
of Segovia when Francis I. was prisoner in Spain ; another, more celebrated, by Francis Arias, who, on the 11th June 1532,
discussed before the College of Cardinals the legitimacy of a war by the Emperor against the Pope. There are two Ac
Pace; and others de Potestate Regia, de Pcena Mortis, &c. The most ancient and scholastic is that of J. de Lignano of Milan As
Bello. The above writers are mentioned in the Prolegomena to Grotius de Jure Belli. Pietro Belloni (Counsellor of the
Duke of Savoy) de Re Milxtari, treats his subject with the minuteness of a Judge-Advocate, and has more modern examples,
chiefly Italian, than Grotius. . ,
2 Born in 1494; died in 1560. (ksTOsni Bibliotheca Hispana Nova.) The opinion of Soto’s knowledge entertained
by his contemporaries is expressed in a jingle, Qui scit Sotumscit totum.
* Notes and Illustrations, note K. f
4 “ Indis non debere auferri imperium, ideo quia sunt peccatores, vel ideo quia non sunt Christiani,” were the words ot
Victoria.
5 Notes and Illustrations, note L.
6 “ Neque discrepantia (ut reor) est inter Christianos et infideles, quoniamius gentium cunctis gentibus aequale est.
’ Soto de Justitia et Jure, lib. iv. quaest. ii. art. 2.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
315
appear, by the hand of their faithful minister,
to havre thus smitten the monsters in their earliest
infancy. It is hard for any man of the present
age to conceive the praise which is due to the
excellent monks who courageously asserted the
rights of those whom they never saw, against
the prejudices of their order, the supposed inte¬
rest of their religion, the ambition of their go¬
vernment, the avarice and pride of their coun¬
trymen, and the prevalent opinions of their time.
Francis Suarez,1 a Jesuit, whose voluminous
works amount to twenty-four volumes in folio,
closes the list of writers of his class. His
work on Laws, and on God the Lawgiver, may
be added to the above treatise of Soto, as ex¬
hibiting the most accessible and perspicuous
abridgement of the theological philosophy in its
latest form.
Grotius, who, though he was the most upright
and candid of men, could not have praised a
Spanish Jesuit beyond his deserts, calls Suarez
the most acute of philosophers and divines.8
On a practical matter, which may be naturally
mentioned here, though in strict method it
belongs to another subject, the merit of Suarez
is conspicuous. He first saw that interna¬
tional law was composed not only of the simple
principles of justice applied to the intercourse
between states, but of those usages, long ob¬
served in that intercourse by the European
race, which have since been more exactly dis¬
tinguished as the consuetudinary law acknow¬
ledged by the Christian nations of Europe and
America.3 On this important point his views
are more clear than those of his contemporary
Alberico Gentili.4 It must even be owned,
that the succeeding intimation of the same
general doctrine by Grotius is somewhat more
dark, perhaps from his excessive pursuit of con¬
cise diction.5
SECTION IV.
Modern Ethics.
The introduction to the great work of Gro¬
tius,® composed in the first years of his exile, and
published at Paris in 1625, contains the most
clear and authentic statement of the general
principles of morals prevalent in Christendom
alter the close of the schools, and before the
writings of Hobbes had given rise to those ethi¬
cal controversies which more peculiarly belong
to modern times. That he may lay down the
tundamental principles of Ethics, he introduces
Carneades on the stage as denying altogether
the reality of moral distinctions; teaching that
law and morality are contrived by powerful men
for their own interest; that they vary in differ¬
ent countries, and change in successive ages;
that there can be no natural law, since nature
leads men as well as other animals to prefer
their own interest to every other object; that
therefore there is either no justice, or if there
be, it is another name for the height of folly,
‘ Born in 1538; died in 1G17-
s “ Tantse subtilitatis philosophum et theologum, ut vix quemquam habeat parem.” (Grotxi Epist. apud Antok. Bibl.
Hup. Nova.)
3 “ Nunquam enim civitates sunt sibi tam sufficientes quin indigeant niutuo juvamine et societate, interdum ad majo-
rem utilitateni, interdum ob necessitatem moralem. Hac igitur ratione indigent aliquo jure quo dirigantur et recte ordi-
nentur in hoc genere societatis. Et quamvis magna ex parte hoc fiat per rationem naturalem, non tamen sufficienter et
immediate quoad omnia, ideoque specialia jurapoterant uj>u earundem gentium introduci." (Suarez de Legibus, lib. ii. cap. ii.
9- et seq.)
4 Born in the March of Ancona in 1550 ; died at London in 1G03.
5 Grotius de Jure Belli, lib. i. cap. i. sect. 14.
6 Prolegomena. His letter to Yossius, of 1st August 1G25, determines the exact period of the publication of this famous
work. Grotii Epist. 74.
316
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
inasmuch as it is a fond attempt to persuade a
human being to injure himself for the unnatural
purpose of benefiting his fellow-men.1
To this Grotius answered, that even inferior
animals, under the powerful though transient
impulse of parental love, prefer their young to
their own safety or life; that gleams of com¬
passion, and, he might have added, of gratitude
and indignation, appear in the human infant
long before the age of moral discipline; that
man at the period of maturity is a social animal,
who delights in the society of his fellow-crea¬
tures for its own sake, independently of the help
and accommodation which it yields ; that he is
a reasonable being, capable of framing and pur¬
suing general rules of conduct, of which he
discerns that the observance contributes to a
regular, quiet, and happy intercourse between
all the members of the community; and that
from these considerations all the precepts of mo¬
rality, and all the commands and prohibitions of
just law, may be derived by impartial reason.
“ And these principles,” says the pious philoso¬
pher, “ would have their weight, even if it were
to he granted (which could not be conceded
without the highest impiety) that there is no
God, or that he exercises no moral government
over human affairs.”* <c Natural law is the dic¬
tate of right reason, pronouncing that there is in
some actions a moral obligation, and in other
actions a moral deformity, arising from their re¬
spective suitableness or repugnance to the reason¬
able and social nature; and that consequently
such acts are either forbidden or enjoined by God,
the author of nature. Actions which are the
subject of this exertion of reason, are in them¬
selves lawful or unlawful, and are therefore as
such necessarily commanded or prohibited by
God.”
Such was the state of opinion respecting the
first principles of the moral sciences, when, after
an imprisonment of a thousand years in the
cloister, they began once more to hold inter¬
course with the general understanding of man¬
kind. It will be seen in the laxity and confu¬
sion, as wel 1 as in the prudence and purity of
this exposition, that some part of the method
and precision of the schools was lost with their
endless subtilties and their barbarous language.
It is manifest that the latter paragraph is a pro¬
position, not what it affects to be, a definition;
that as a proposition it contains too many terms
very necessary to be defined; that the purpose
of the excellent writer is not so much to lay
down a first principle of morals, as to exert his
unmatched power of saying much in few words,
in order to assemble within the smallest compass
the most weighty inducements, and the most
effectual persuasions to welldoing.
This was the condition in which ethical theory
was found by Hobbes, with whom the present
Dissertation should have commenced, if it had
been possible to state modern controversies in a
satisfactory manner, without a retrospect of
the revolutions in opinion from which they in
some measure flowed.
HOBBES.3
Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury may be num- a new character to European philosophy in the
bered among those eminent persons born in the succeeding age.4 He was one of the late wri-
latter half of the sixteenth century, who gave ters and late learners. It was not till he was
1 The same commonplace paradoxes were retailed by the Sophists, whom Socrates is introduced as chastising in the Dia¬
logues of Plato. They were common enough to be put by the historian into the mouth of an ambassador in a public speech.
AvSgi §£ Tugavv* v sroKsi t%ov<rri oebiv u.Xoyov o ti (ThUCYD. vi. 85.)
2 “ Et haec quidem locum aliquem haberent, etiamsi daretur (quod sine summo scelere dari nequit) non esse Deuni, aut
non curari ab eo negotia humana.” {Proleg. 11.) And in another place, “ Jus naturale est dictatum rectae rationis, indicans
actui alicui, ex ejus convenienlia aut disconvenientia cum ipsa natura rationali et sociali, inesse moralem turpitudinem aut
necessitatem moralem, ac consequenter ab auctore naturae Deo talem actum aut vetari aut praecipi. Actus de quibus taleexstat
dictatum, debiti sunt aut illiciti perse, atque ideo a Deo necessario praecepti aut cetitiintelliguntur.” (lib. i. cap. i. sect. 10.)
3 Born in 1588; died in 1671).
4 Bacon, Descartes, Hobbes, and Grotius. The writings of the first are still as delightful and wonderful as they ever
were, and his authority will have no end. Descartes forms an era in the history of Metaphysics, of Physics, of Mathema¬
tics. The controversies excited by Grotius have long ceased, but the powerful influence of his works will be doubted by
those only who are unacquainted with the disputes of the seventeenth century.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
317
nearly thirty that he supplied the defects of his
early education, by classical studies so successfully
prosecuted, that he wrote well in the Latin then
used by his scientific contemporaries; and made
such proficiency in Greek as, in his earliest work,
the Translation of Thucydides, published when
he was forty, to afford a specimen of a version still
valued for its remarkable fidelity; though written
Avith a stiffness and constraint very opposite to
the masterly facility of his original compositions.
It was after forty that he learned the first rudi¬
ments of geometry (so miserably defective \Ams
his education); but yielding to the paradoxical
disposition apt to infect those who begin to learn
after the natural age of commencement, he ex¬
posed himself, by absurd controversies with the
masters of a science which looks down with
scorn on the Sophist. A considerable portion
of his mature age was passed on the Continent,
where he travelled as tutor to two successAe
Earls of Devonshire; a family Avith whom he
seems to Inwe passed near half a century of his
long life. In France his reputation, founded at
that time solely on personal intercourse, became
so great, that his observations on the Meditations
of Descartes Avere published in the AA’orks of that
philosopher, together with those of Gassendi
and Arnauld.1 It was about his sixtieth year
that he began to publish those philosophical
writings Avhich contain his peculiar opinions;—
which set the understanding of Europe into ge¬
neral motion, and stirred up controversies among
metaphysicians and moralists, not eAren yet de¬
termined. At the age of eighty-seven he had
the boldness to publish metrical Aversions of the
Iliad and Odyssey, which the greatness of his
name, and the singularity of the undertaking,
still render objects of curiosity, if not of criti¬
cism. He OAved his influence to \rarious causes;
at the head of AA'liich may be placed that genius
tor system, Avhich, though it cramps the groAvth
of knowledge,2 perhaps finally atones for that
mischief, by the zeal and acthdty Avhich it rouses
among folloAvers and opponents, avIio discover
truth by accident, AAdien in pursuit of Aveapons
for their warfare. A system Avhich attempts a
task so hard as that of subjecting vast proAunces
of human knoAvledge to one or two principles,
if it presents some striking instances of con¬
formity to superficial appearances, is sure to
delight the framer; and, for a time, to subdue
and captAate the student too entirely for sober
reflection and rigorous examination. The evil
does not indeed very frequently recur. Perhaps
Aristotle, Hobbes, and Kant, are the only per¬
sons who united in the highest degree the great
faculties of comprehension and discrimination
Avhich compose the Genius of System. Of the
three, Aristotle alone could throAv it oft where
it AAfas glaringly unsuitable ; and it is deserving
of observation, that the reign of system seems,
from these examples, progressively to shorten in
proportion as reason is cultHated and knowledge
advances. But, in the first instance, consist¬
ency passes for truth. When principles in some
instances haAre proved sufficient to give an un¬
expected explanation of facts, the delighted
reader is content to accept as true all other de¬
ductions from the principles. Specious pre¬
mises being assumed to be true, nothing more
can be required than logical inference. Mathe¬
matical forms pass current as the equivalent of
mathematical certainty. The umvary admirer
is satisfied Avith the completeness and symmetry
of the plan of his house—unmindful of the need
of examining the firmness of the foundation and
the soundness of the materials. The system-
maker, like the conqueror, long dazzles and
overaAves the world; but Avhen their sAvay is past,
the vulgar herd, unable to measure their aston¬
ishing faculties, take revenge by trampling on
fallen greatness.
The dogmatism of Hobbes Avas, hoAvever un¬
justly, one of the sources of his fame. The
founders of systems deliver their novelties Avith
the undoubting spirit of discoverers; and their
The prevalence of freethinking under Louis XIII., to a far greater degree than it was avowed, appears not only from
the complaints of Mersenne and of Grotius, but from the disclosures of Guy Latin; who, in his Letters, describes Ins own
conversations with Gassendi and Naude, so as to leave no doubt of their opinions.
‘ “Another error,” says the Master of Wisdom, “is the over-early and peremptory reduction of knowledge into arts
“Ar meth()dS’ from which time commonly receives small augmentation.” (Bacon’s Advancement of Learning, book i.)
‘ Method,” says he, “ carrying a show of total and perfect knowledge, has a tendency to generate acquiescence.” What
pregnant words! '
318
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
followers are apt to be dogmatical, because they
can see nothing beyond their own ground. It
might seem incredible, if it were not established
by the experience of all ages, that those who
differ most from the opinions of their fellow-
men are most confident of the truth of their
own. But it commonly requires an overween¬
ing conceit of the superiority of a man’s own
judgment, to make him espouse very singular
notions: and when he has once embraced them,
they are endeared to him by the hostility of
those whom he contemns as the prejudiced vul¬
gar. The temper of Hobbes must have been
originally haughty. The advanced age at which
he published his obnoxious opinions, rendered
him more impatient of the acrimonious opposi¬
tion which they necessarily provoked; until at
length a strong sense of the injustice of the
punishment impending over his head, for the
publication of what he believed to be truth, co¬
operated with the peevishness and timidity of
his years, to render him the most imperious and
morose of dogmatists. His dogmatism has in¬
deed one quality more offensive than that of
most others. Propositions the most adverse
to the opinions of mankind, and the most ab¬
horrent from their feelings, are introduced into
the course of his argument with mathematical
coldness. He presents them as demonstrated
conclusions, without deigning to explain to his
fellow-creatures how they all happened to be¬
lieve the opposite absurdities; without even the
compliment of once observing how widely his
discoveries were at variance with the most an¬
cient and universal judgments of the human
understanding. The same quality in Spinoza
indicates a recluse’s ignorance of the world.
In Hobbes it is the arrogance of a man who
knows mankind and despises them.
A permanent foundation of his fame consists in
his admirable style, which seems to be the very
perfection of didactic language. Short, clear, pre¬
cise, pithy, his language never has more than one
meaning, which never requires a second thought
to find. By the help of his exact method, it
takes so firm a hold on the mind, that it will
not allow attention to slacken. His little tract
on Human Nature has scarcely an ambiguous or
a needless word. He has so great a power of
always choosing the most significant term, that
he never is reduced to the poor expedient of
using many in its stead. He had so thoroughly
studied the genius of the language, and knew
so well to steer between pedantry and vulgarity,
that two centuries have not superannuated prob¬
ably more than a dozen of his words. His ex¬
pressions are so luminous, that he is clear with¬
out the help of illustration. Perhaps no writer
of any age or nation, on subjects so abstruse,
has manifested an equal power of engraving his
thoughts on the mind of his readers. He seems
never to have taken a word for ornament or
pleasure; and he deals with eloquence and
poetry as the natural philosopher who explains
the mechanism of children’s toys, or deigns to
contrive them. Yet his style so stimulates at¬
tention, that it never tires; and, to those who
are acquainted with the subject, appears to have
as much spirit as can be safely blended with
reason. He compresses his thoughts so un¬
affectedly, and yet so tersely, as to produce oc¬
casionally maxims which excite the same agree¬
able surprise with wit, and have become a sort
of philosophical proverbs; the success of which
he partly owed to the suitableness of such forms
of expression to his dictatorial nature. His
words have such an appearance of springing
from his thoughts, as to impress on the reader
a strong opinion of his originality, and indeed
to prove that he was not conscious of borrow¬
ing ; though conversation with Gassendi must
have influenced his mind; and it is hard to be¬
lieve that his coincidence with Ockham should
have been purely accidental, on points so im¬
portant as the denial of general ideas, the refer¬
ence of moral distinctions to superior power,
and the absolute thraldom of religion under the
civil power, which he seems to have thought ne¬
cessary, to maintain that independence of the
state on the church with which Ockham had
been contented.
His philosophical 'writings might be read with¬
out reminding any one that the author was more
than an intellectual machine. They never be¬
tray a feeling except that insupportable arro¬
gance which looks down on men as a lower
species of beings ; whose almost unanimous hos¬
tility is so far from shaking the firmness of his
DISSERTATION SECOND.
319
conviction, or even ruffling the calmness of his
contempt, that it appears too petty a circum¬
stance to require explanation, or even to merit
notice. Let it not be forgotten, that part of his
renown depends on the application of his ad¬
mirable powers to expound truth when he meets
it. This great merit is conspicuous in that part
of bis treatise of Human Nature which relates
to the percipient and reasoning faculties. It is
also very remarkable in many of his secondary
principles on the subject of government and law,
which, while the first principles are false and
dangerous, are as admirable for truth as for his
accustomed and unrivalled propriety of expres¬
sion.1 In many of these observations he even
shows a disposition to soften his paradoxes, and
to conform to the common sense of mankind.6
It was with perfect truth observed by my
excellent friend Mr Stewart, that “ the ethical
principles of Hobbes are completely interwoven
with his political system.”3 He might have
said, that the whole of Hobbes’s system, moral,
religious, and in part philosophical, depended on
his political scheme; not indeed logically, as con¬
clusions depend on premises, but (if the word
maybe excused)psychologically, as the formation
of one opinion may be influenced by a disposi¬
tion to adapt it to previously cherished opinions.
The Translation of Thucydides, as he himself
boasts, was published to show the evils of popu¬
lar government.4 Men he represented as being
originally equal, and having an equal right to all
things, hut as being taught by reason to sacri¬
fice this right for the advantages of peace, and
to submit to a common authority, which can
preserve quiet, only by being the sole depositary
of force, and must therefore be absolute and un¬
limited. The supreme authority cannot be suf¬
ficient for its purpose, unless it be wielded by a
single hand; nor even then, unless his absolute
power extends over religion, which may prompt
men to discord by the fear of an evil greater
than death. The perfect state of a community,
according to him, is where law prescribes the
religion and morality of the people, and where
the will of an absolute sovereign is the sole foun¬
tain of law. Hooker had inculcated the simple
truth, that “ to live by one man’s will is the
cause of many men’s misery.” Hobbes em¬
braced the daring paradox, that to live by one
man’s will is the only means of all men’s happi¬
ness. Having thus rendered religion the slave
of every human tyrant, it was an unavoidable
consequence, that he should be disposed to lower
her character, and lessen her power over men;
that he should regard atheism as the most effec¬
tual instrument of preventing rebellion; at least
that species of rebellion which prevailed in his
time, and had excited his alarms. The formi¬
dable alliance of religion with liberty haunted
his mind, and urged him to the bold attempt of
rooting out both these mighty principles; which,
when combined with interests and passions,
when debased by impure support, and provoked
by unjust resistance, have indeed the power of
fearfully agitating society; but which are, never¬
theless, in their own nature, and as far as they
are unmixed and undisturbed, the fountains of
justice, of order, of peace, as well as of those
moral hopes, and of those glorious aspirations
after higher excellence, which encourage and
exalt the soul in its passage through misery and
depravity. A Hobbist is the only consistent
persecutor; for he alone considers himself as
bound, by whatever conscience he has remain¬
ing, to conform to the religion of the sovereign.
1 See De Corpore Politico, Part i. chap. ii. iii. iv. and Leviathan, Part i. chap. xiv. xv. for remarks of this sort, full of
sagacity.
2 “ The laws of nature are immutable and eternal; for injustice, ingratitude, arrogance, pride, iniquity, acception of per¬
sons, and the rest, can never be made lawful. For it can never be that war shall preserve life, and peace destroy it.”
[Leviathan, Part i. chap. xv. See also Part ii. chap. xxvi. xxviii. on Laws, and on Punishments.)
3 See Dissertation First, p. 42. The political state of England is indeed said by himself to have occasioned his first
philosophical publication.
Nascitur interea scelus execrabile belli.
 Horreo spectans,
Meque ad dilectam confero Lutetiam,
Postque duos annos edo De Give Libellum. (Vita Hobbesii.)
4 The speech of Euphemus in the 6th book of that historian, and the conference between the ministers from Athens and
the Melean chiefs, in the 5th book, exhibit an undisguised HoUnsm, which was very dramatically put into the mouth of
Athenian statesmen at a time when, as we learn from Plato and Aristophanes, it was preached by the Sophists.
320
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
He claims from others no more than he is him¬
self ready to yield to any master;1 while the
religionist who persecutes a member of another
communion, exacts the sacrifice of conscience
and sincerity, though professing that, rather than
make it himself, he is prepared to die.
The fundamental errors on which the ethical
system of Hobbes is built are not peculiar to
him; though he has stated them with a bolder
precision, and placed them in a more conspicu¬
ous station in the van of Ids main force, than
any other of those who have either frankly
avowed or tacitly assumed them, from the be¬
ginning of speculation to the present moment.
They may be shortly stated as follows.
1. The first and most inveterate of these er¬
rors is, that he does not distinguish thought from
feeling, or rather that he in express words con¬
founds them. The mere perception of an object,
according to him, differs from the pleasure or
pain which that perception may occasion, no
otherwise than as they affect different organs of
the bodily frame. The action of the mind in
perceiving or conceiving an object is precisely
the same with that of feeling the agreeable or
disagreeable.2 The necessary result of this ori¬
ginal confusion is, to extend the laws of the in¬
tellectual part of our nature over that other part
of it, hitherto without any adequate name, which
feels, and desires, and loves, and hopes, and
wills. In consequence of this long confusion,
or want of distinction, it has happened that,
while the simplest act of the merely intellectual
part has many names, (such as sensation, per¬
ception, impression, &c.) the correspondent act
of the other not less important portion of man
is not denoted by a technical term in philoso¬
phical systems; nor by a convenient word in
common language. Sensation has another more
common sense. Emotion is too warm for a ge¬
neric term. Feeling has some degree of the same
fault, besides its liability to confusion with the
sense of touch. Pleasure and pain represent only
two properties of this act, which render its re¬
petition the object of desire or aversion; which
last states of mind presuppose the act. Of these
words, emotion seems to be the least objec¬
tionable, since it has no absolute double mean¬
ing, and does not require so much vigilance in
the choice of the accompanying words as would
be necessary if we were to prefer feeling;
which, however, being a more familiar word,
may, with due caution, be also sometimes em¬
ployed. Every man who attends to the state
of his own mind will acknowledge, that these
words, emotion and feeling, thus used, are perfect¬
ly simple, and as incapable of further explana¬
tion by words as sight or hearing; which may
indeed be rendered into synonymous words, hut
never can be defined by any more simple or
more clear. Reflection will in like manner teach
that perception, reasoning, and judgment may
be conceived to exist without being followed by
emotion. Some men hear music without gratifi¬
cation : one may distinguish a taste without being
pleased or displeased by it; or at least the relish
or disrelish is often so slight, without lessening
the distinctness of the sapid qualities, that the
distinction of it from the perception cannot be
doubted.
1 Spinoza adopted precisely the same first principle with Hobbes, that all men have a natural right to all things.
(Tractatus PoUticus, cap. ii. sect. 3.) He even avows the absurd and detestable maxim, that states are not bound to observe
their treaties longer than the interest or danger which first formed the treaties continues. But on the internal constitu¬
tion of states he embraces opposite opinions. Servitutis enim non pads interest omnem potestatem ad unum transferre. (Ibid.
cap. vi. sect. 4.) Limited monarchy he considers as the only tolerable example of that species of government. An aristo¬
cracy nearly approaching to the Dutch system during the suspension of the fctadtholdership, he seems to prefer. He speaks
favourably of democracy, but. the chapter on that subject is left unfinished. “ Nulla plane templa urbium sumptibus aedifi-
canda, nec jura de opinionibus statuenda.” He was the first republican atheist of modern times, and probably the earliest
irreligious opponent of an ecclesiastical establishment.
2 This doctrine is explained in his tract on Human Nature, c. vii—x. “ Conception is a motion in some internal substance
of the head, which proceeding to the heart, when it helpeth the motion there, it is called pleasure; when it weakeneth or
hindereth the motion, it is called pain''’ The same matter is handled more cursorily, agreeably to the practical purpose
of the work, in Leviathan, Part i. chap. vi. These passages are here referred to as proofs of the statement in the text.
With the materialism of it we have here no concern. If the multiplied suppositions -were granted, we should not advance
one step towards understanding what they profess to explain. The first four words are as unmeaning as if one were to
say that greenness is very loud. It is obvious that many motions which promote the motion of the heart are extremely
painful.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
321
The multiplicity of errors which have flowed
into Moral Science from this original confusion
is very great. They have spread over many
schools of philosophy; and many of them are
prevalent to this day. Hence the laws of the
understanding have been applied to the affec¬
tions; virtuous feelings have been considered
as just reasonings; evil passions represented as
mistaken judgments; and it has been laid down
as a principle, that the will always follows the
last decision of the practical intellect.1
2. By this great error, Hobbes was led to re¬
present all the variety of the desires of men, as
being only so many instances of objects delibe¬
rately and solely pursued; because they were the
means, and at the time perceived to be so, of
directly or indirectly procuring organic gratifi¬
cation to the individual.2 The human passions
are described as if they reasoned accurately, de¬
liberated coolly, and calculated exactly. It is
assumed that, in performing these operations,
there is and can be no act of life in which a man
does not bring distinctly before his eyes the
pleasure which is to accrue to himself from the
act. From this single and simple principle, all
human conduct may, according to him, be ex¬
plained and even foretold.
The true laws of this part of our nature (so
totally different from those of the percipient
part) were, by this grand mistake, entirely with¬
drawn from notice. Simple as the observation
is, it seems to have escaped not only Hobbes,
hut many, perhaps most philosophers, that our
desires seek a great diversity of objects; that
the attainment of these objifcts is indeed follow¬
ed by, or rather called Pleasure; but that it
could not be so, if the objects had not been pre¬
viously desired. Many besides him have really
represented self as the ultimate object of every
action; but none ever so hardily thrust forward
the selfish system in its harshest and coarsest
shape. The mastery which he shows over other
metaphysical subjects, forsakes him on this. He
does not scruple, for the sake of this system, to
distort facts of which all men are conscious;
and to do violence to the language in which the
result of their uniform experience is conveyed.
“ Acknowledgment of power is called Honour.” 3
His explanations are frequently sufficient con¬
futations of the doctrine which required them.
£< Pity is the imagination of future calamity to
ourselves, proceeding from the sense (observa¬
tion) of another man’s calamity.” <c Laughter
is occasioned by sudden glory in our eminence,
or in comparison with the infirmity of others.”
Every man who ever wept or laughed, may de¬
termine whether this be a true account of the
state of his mind on either occasion. 44 Love is
a conception of his need of the one person de¬
sired ;” a definition of love, which, as it ex¬
cludes kindness, might perfectly well compre¬
hend the hunger of a cannibal, provided that
it were not too ravenous to exclude choice.
44 Good-will, or charity, which containeth the na¬
tural affection of parents to their children, consists
in a man’s conception that he is able not only to
accomplish his own desires, but to assist other
men in theirsfrom which it follows, as the
pride of power is felt in destroying as well as in
saving men, that cruelty and kindness are the
same passion.4
Such were the expedients to which a man of
the highest class of understanding was driven,
in order to evade the admission of the simple
and evident truth, that there are in our nature
perfectly disinterested passions, which seek the
wellbeing of others as their object and end,
without looking beyond it to self, or pleasure,
or happiness. A proposition, from which such
a man could attempt to escape only by such
means, may be strongly presumed to be true.
3. Hobbes having thus struck the affections
out of his map of human nature, and having to¬
tally misunderstood (as will appear in a suc¬
ceeding part of this Dissertation) the nature even
of the appetites, it is no wonder that we should
1 “ Voluntas semper sequitur ultirnum indicium intellectus practici.”
2 See the passages before quoted. . , , . „
* Human Nature, chap. viii. The ridiculous explanation of the admiration of personal beauty, as a sign or poner ge¬
nerative,” shows the difficulties to which this extraordinary man was reduced by a false system. . ,
4 Ibid. chap. ix. I forbear to quote the passage on Platonic love, which immediately follows. But, considering Hob ess
blameless and honourable character, that passage is perhaps the most remarkable instance of the shifts to which his se s
system reduced him.
DISS. II. 2 s
322
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
find in it not a trace of the moral sentiments.
Moral good1 he considers merely as consisting
in the signs of a power to produce pleasure;
and repentance is no more than regret at having
missed the way : so that, according to this sys¬
tem, a disinterested approbation of, and rever¬
ence for virtue, are no more possible than dis¬
interested affections towards our fellow-crea¬
tures. There is no sense of duty, no compunc¬
tion for our own offences, no indignation against
the crimes of others, unless they affect our own
safety; no secret cheerfulness shed over the
heart by the practice of welldoing. From his
philosophical writings it would be impossible to
concl ude that there are in man a set of emotions,
desires, and aversions, of which the sole and final
objects are the voluntary actions and habitual
dispositions of himself and of all other voluntary
agents; which are properly called Moral Senti¬
ments ; and which, though they vary more in
degree, and depend more on cultivation, than
some other parts of human nature, are as seldom
as most of them found to be entirely wanting.
4. A theory of man which comprehends in its
explanations neither the social affections, nor the
moral sentiments, must he owned to be suffi¬
ciently defective. It is a consequence, or ra¬
ther a modification of it, that Hobbes should
constantly represent the deliberate regard to
personal advantage, as the only possible motive
of human action; and that he should altogether
disdain to avail himself of those refinements of
the selfish scheme which allow the pleasures of
benevolence and of morality, themselves, to he a
most important part of that interest which rea¬
sonable beings pursue.
5. Lastly, though Hobbes does in effect ac¬
knowledge the necessity of morals to society,
and the general coincidence of individual with
public interest—truths so palpable that they
never have been excluded from any ethical sys¬
tem—he betrays his utter want of moral sensibil¬
ity by the coarse and odious form in which he has
presented the first of these great principles ; and
his view of both leads him most strongly to sup¬
port that common and pernicious error of moral
reasoners, that a perception of the tendency of
good actions to preserve the being and promote
the wellbeing of the community, and a sense of
the dependence of our own happiness upon the
general security, either are essential constituents
of our moral feelings, or are ordinarily mingled
with the most effectual motives to right conduct.
The court of Charles II. were equally pleased
with Hobbes’s poignant brevity, and his low esti¬
mate of human motives. His ethical epigrams
became the current coin of profligate wits.
Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire, who re¬
presented the class still more perfectly in Ids
morals than in his faculties, has expressed their
opinion in verses, of which one line is good
enough to be quoted :
Fame bears no fruit till the vain planter dies.
Dryden speaks of “ the philosopher and poet
(for such is the condescending term employed)
of Malmesbury,” as resembling Lucretius in
haughtiness. But Lucretius, though he held
many of the opinions of Hobbes, had the sensi¬
bility as well as genius of a poet. His dogma¬
tism is full of enthusiasm; and his philosophical
theory of society discovers occasionally as much
tenderness as can be shown without reference
to individuals. He was a Hobbist in only half
his nature.
The moral and political system of Hobbes was
a palace of ice, transparent, exactly proportioned,
majestic, admired by the unwary as a delight¬
ful dwelling; but gradually undermined by the
central warmth of human feeling, before it was
thawed into muddy water by the sunshine of
true philosophy.
When Leibnitz, in the beginning of the
eighteenth century, reviewed the moral writers
of modern times, his penetrating eye saw only
two who were capable of reducing morals and
jurisprudence to a science. <c So great an enter¬
prise,” says he, “ might have been executed by
the deep-searching genius of Hobbes, it he had
not set out from evil principles; or by the judg¬
ment and learning of the incomparable Grotius,
if his powers had not been scattered over many
1 Which he calls the pulchrum, for want, as he says, of an English word to express it. (Leviathan, Part i. c. vi.)
DISSERTATION SECOND.
323
subjects, and his mind distracted by the cares of
an agitated life.”1 Perhaps in this estimate,
admiration of the various and excellent quali¬
ties of Grotius may have overrated his purely
philosophical powers, great as they unquestion¬
ably were. Certainly the failure of Hobbes was
owing to no inferiority in strength of intellect.
Probably his fundamental errors may be im¬
puted, in part, to the faintness of his moral sen¬
sibilities, insufficient to make him familiar with
those sentiments and affections which can be
known only by being felt;—a faintness perfectly
compatible with his irreproachable life, but
which obstructed, and at last obliterated, the
only channel through which the most important
materials of ethical science enter into the mind.
Against Hobbes, says Warburton, the whole
church militant took up arms. The answers to
the Leviathan would form a library. But the
far greater part have followed the fate of all
controversial pamphlets. Sir Robert Filmer
was jealous of any rival theory of servitude.
Harrington defended liberty, and Clarendon the
church, against a common enemy. His philo¬
sophical antagonists were, Cumberland, Cud-
worth, Shaftesbury, Clarke, Butler, and Hutche¬
son. Though the last four writers cannot be
considered as properly polemics, their labours
were excited, and their doctrines modified, by
the stroke from a vigorous arm which seemed
to shake Ethics to its foundation. They lead us
far into the eighteenth century; and their works,
occasioned by the doctrines of Hobbes, sowed
the seed of the ethical writings of Hume, Smith,
Price, Kant, and Stewart; in a less degree, also,
of those of Tucker and Paley : not to mention
Mandeville, the buffoon and sophister of the
ale-house; or Helvetius, an ingenious but flimsy
writer, the low and loose moralist of the vain,
the selfish, and the sensual.
SECTION V.
Controversies concerning the Moral Faculties and the Social Affections.
CUMBEIiLAND CUDWOIiTH—CLARKE—SHAFTESBURY—EOSSUET—FENELON—LEIBNITZ—
MALEBRANCHE—EDWARDS—BUFFlEIi.
Dr Richard Cumberland,2 raised to the
see of Peterborough after the revolution of 1688,
was the only professed answerer of Hobbes. His
work on the Law of Nature still retains a place
on the shelf, though not often on the desk. The
philosophical epigrams of Hobbes form a con¬
trast to the verbose, prolix, and languid diction
of his answerer. The forms of scholastic argu¬
ment serve more to encumber his style than to
insure his exactness. But he has substantial
merits. He justly observes, that all men can
only be said to have had originally a right to all
things, in a sense in which right has the same
meaning with power. He shows that Hobbes is
at variance with himself; inasmuch as the dic¬
tates of right reason, which, by his own state¬
ment, teach men for their own safety to forego
the exercise of that right, and which he calls
Laws of Nature, are coeval with it; and that
mankind perceive the moral limits of their power
as clearly and as soon as they are conscious of
its existence. He enlarges the intimations of
Grotius on the social feelings, which prompt
men to the pleasures of pacific intercourse, as
certainly as the apprehension of danger and de¬
struction urges them to avoid hostility. The
1 £! Et tale allnuid potuisset vel ab incomparabilis Grotii judicio et doctrina, vel a profundo Hobbii ingenio prisstari,
nisi ilium multa distraxissent; hie vero prava constituisset principia.” (Leibnitii Ejnst. ad Molanum ; IV. I ais iu. p- -t •)
’ Born in 1G32 ; died in 1718.
324
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
fundamental principle of his Ethics is, that
“ the greatest benevolence of every rational
agent to all others, is the happiest state of each
individual, as well as of the whole.”1 The
happiness accruing to each man from the obser¬
vance and cultivation of benevolence, he con¬
siders as appended to it by the supreme Ruler;
through which he sanctions it as his law, and
revealsitto the mind of every reasonable creature.
From this principle he deduces the rules of mo¬
rality, which he calls the Laws of Nature. The
surest, or rather only mark that they are the
commandments of God, is, that their observance
promotes the happiness of man : for that reason
alone could they he imposed by that Being whose
essence is love. As our moral faculties must to
us be the measure of all moral excellence, he
infers that the moral attributes of the Divinity
must in their nat ure he only a transcendent degree
of those qualities which we most approve, love,
and revere, in those moral agents with whom we
are familiar.2 He had a momentary glimpse of
the possibility that some human actions might
he performed with a view to the happiness of
others, without any consideration of the pleasure
reflected back on ourselves.5 But it is too faint
and transient to be worthy of observation, other¬
wise than as a new proof how often great truths
must flit before the understanding, before they
can be firmly and finally held in its grasp. His
only attempt to explain the nature of the moral
faculty, is the substitution of practical reason (a
phrase of the schoolmen, since become celebrat¬
ed from its renewal by Kant) for right reason ;4
and his definition of the first, as that which points
out the ends and means of action. Throughout
his whole reasoning, he adheres to the accustom¬
ed confusion of the quality which renders actions
virtuous, with the sentiments excited in us by the
contemplation of them. His language on the
identity of general and individual interest is ex¬
tremely vague; though it be, as he says, the
foundation-stone of the Temple of Concord
among men.
It is little wonder that Cumberland should not
have disembroiled this ancient and established
confusion, since Leibnitz himself, in a passage
where he reviews the theories of morals which
had gone before him, has done his utmost to
perpetuate it. “ It is a question,” says he,
“ whether the preservation of human society be
the first principle of the law of nature. This
our author denies, in opposition to Grotius, who
laid down sociability to be so; to Hobbes, who
ascribed that character to mutual fear; and to
Cumberland, who held that it was mutual bene¬
volence ; which are all three only different names
for the safety and welfare of society.”5 Here
the great philosopher considered benevolence or
fear, two feelings of the human mind, to be the
first principles of the law of nature ; in the same
sense in which the tendency of certain actions
to the wellbeing of the community may be so
regarded. The confusion, however, was then
common to him with many, as it even now is
with most. The comprehensive view was his
own. He perceives the close resemblance of
these various and even conflicting opinions, in
that important point of view in which they re¬
late to the effects of moral and immoral actions
on the general interest. The tendency of virtue
to preserve amicable intercourse was enforced
by Grotius; its tendency to prevent injury was
dwelt on by Hobbes; its tendency to promote
an interchange of benefits was inculcated by
Cumberland.
1 Cumberland de Legihis Naturae, cap. i. sect. 12. first published in London, 1672, and then so popular as to be reprint¬
ed at Lubeck in 1683.
* Ibid. cap. t. sect. 19.
3 Ibid. cap. ii. sect. 20.
■* “ Whoever determines his judgment and his will by right reason, must agree with all others who judge according to
right reason in the same matter.” (Ibid. cap. ii. sect. 8.) This is in one sense only a particular instance of the identical proposi¬
tion, that two things which agree with a third thing must agree with each other in that in which they agree with the third.
But the difficulty entirely consists in the particular third thing here introduced, namely, “ right reason,” the nature of
which not one step is made to explain. The position is curious, as coinciding with “ the universal categorical imperative,
adopted as a first principle by Kant.
. 6 Leibn. IV. Pars iii. p. 271. The unnamed work which occasioned these remarks (perhaps one of Thomasius) appeared
in 1699. How long after this Leibnitz’s Dissertation was written, does not appear.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
325
CUD WORTH.1
Cudworth, one of the eminent men educated
or promoted in the English Universities during
the Puritan rule, was one of the most distinguish¬
ed of the Latitudinarian or Arminian party who
came forth at the Restoration, with a love of liber¬
ty imbibed from their Calvinistic masters, as well
as from the writings of antiquity, yet tempered
by the experience of their own agitated age; and
with a spirit of religious toleration more impar¬
tial and mature, though less systematic and
professedly comprehensive, than that of the In¬
dependents, the first sect who preached that
doctrine. Taught by the errors of their time,
they considered religion as consisting, not in
vain efforts to explain unsearchable mysteries,
but in purity of heart exalted by pious feelings,
and manifested by virtuous conduct.2 The go¬
vernment of the church was placed in their
hands by the revolution, and their influence
was long felt among its rulers and luminaries.
The first generation of their scholars turned
their attention too much from the cultivation of
the heart to the mere government of outward
action; and in succeeding times the tolerant
spirit, not natural to an establishment, was with
difficulty kept up by a government whose ex¬
istence depended on discouraging intolerant pre¬
tensions. No sooner had the first sketch of the
Hobbian philosophy3 been privately circulated at
Paris, than Cudworth seized the earliest oppor¬
tunity of sounding the alarm against the most
justly odious of the modes of thinking which it
cultivates, or forms of expression which it would
introduce;4 the prelude to a war which occu¬
pied the remaining forty years of his life. The
Intellectual System, his great production, is di¬
rected against the atheistical opinions of Hobbes:
it touches ethical questions but occasionally and
incidentally. It is a work of stupendous eru¬
dition, of much more acuteness than at first
appears, of frequent mastery over diction and
illustration on subjects where it is most rare;
and it is distinguished, perhaps beyond any
other volume of controversy, by that best proof
of the deepest conviction of the truth of a man’s
principles, a fearless statement of the most for¬
midable objections to them; a fairness rarely
practised but by him who is conscious of his
power to answer them. In all his writings, it
must be owned, that his learning obscures his
reasonings, and seems even to oppress his pow¬
erful intellect. It is an unfortunate effect of
the redundant fulness of his mind, that it over¬
flows in endless digressions, which break the
chain of argument, and turn aside the thoughts
of the reader from the main object. He was edu¬
cated before usage had limited the naturaliza¬
tion of new words from the learned languages;
before the failure of those great men, from Bacon
to Milton, who laboured to follow a Latin order
in their sentences,—and the success of those men
of inferior powers, from Cowley to Addison, who
were content with the order, as well as the
words, of pure and elegant conversation,—had,
as it were, by a double series of experiments,
ascertained that the involutions and inversions
of the ancient languages are seldom reconcil¬
able with the genius of ours; and, unless skil¬
fully, as well as sparingly introduced, are at
variance with the natural beauties of our prose
composition. His mind was more that of an an¬
cient than of a modern philosopher. He often
1 Bom in 1617; died in 1688. . , ...
2 See the beautiful account of them by Burnet, {Hist. I. 321, Oxford edit. 1823) who was himself one of the most dis¬
tinguished of this excellent body; with whom maybe classed, notwithstanding some shades of doctrinal difference, his eaily
master, Leighton, bishop of Dunblane, a beautiful writer, and one of the best of men. The earliest account of them is in
a curious contemporary pamphlet, entitled, An Account of the new Sect of Latitude-men at Cambridge, republished in
the collection of tracts entitled, Phcenix Britannicus. Jeremy Taylor deserves the highest and perhaps the earliest
place among them. But Cudworth’s excellent sermon before the House of Commons (31st March 1647) in the year
the publication of Taylor’s Liberty of Prophesying, may be compared even to Taylor m charity, piety, and the most libera
toleration.
2 De Give 1642.
4 Dantur boni et mail rationes cetcrnoe ct indispensdbiles. Thesis for the degree of B. D. at Cambridge in 1644. (Biacu s
Life of Cudworth, prefixed to his edition of the Intellectual System, p. vii- Lond. 1743. 2 vols. 4to.)
326
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
indulged in that sort of amalgamation of fancy
with speculation, the delight of the Alexandrian
doctors, with whom he was most familiarly con-
Arersant; and the Intellectual System, both in
thought and expression, has an old and foreign
air, not unlike a translation from the work ot a
later Platonist. Large ethical works of this
eminent writer are extant in manuscript in the
British Museum.1 One posthumous volume
on morals was published by Dr Chandler, bishop
of Durham, entitled, A Treatise concerning Eter¬
nal and Immutable Morality. * But there is the
more reason to regret (as far as relates to the
history of opinion) that the larger treatises are
still unpublished, because the above volume is
not so much an ethical treatise as an introduc¬
tion to one. Protagoras of old, and Hobbes then
alive, having concluded that right and wrong
were unreal, because they were not perceived
by the senses, and because all human knowledge
coFisists only in such perception, Cudworth en¬
deavours to refute them, by disproving that part
of their premises which forms the last-stated
proposition. The mind has many conceptions
(voj^ara) which are not cognizable by the senses;
and though they are occasioned by sensible ob¬
jects, yet could not be formed but by a faculty
superior to sense. The conceptions of justice
and duty he places among them. The distinction
of right from wrong is discerned by reason;
and as soon as these words are defined, it be¬
comes evident that it would be a contradiction
in terms to affirm that any power, human or
divine, could change their nature; or, in other
words, make the same act to be just and unjust
at the same time. They had existed eternally,
in the only mode in which truths can be said to
be eternal, in the Eternal Mind; and they were
indestructible and unchangeable like that Su¬
preme Intelligence.5
Whatever judgment may be formed of this
reasoning, it is manifest that it relates merely
to the philosophy of the understanding, and does
not attempt any explanation of what constitutes
the very essence of morality, its relation to the
will. That we perceive a distinction between
right and wrong as much as between a triangle
and a square, is indeed true; and may possibly
lead to an explanation of the reason why men
should adhere to the one and avoid the other.
But it is not that reason. A command or a
precept is not a proposition. It cannot be said
that either is true or false. Cudworth, as well
as many who succeeded him, confounded the
mere apprehension by the understanding that
right is different from wrong, with the practical
authority of these important conceptions, exer¬
cised over voluntary actions, in a totally distinct
province of the human soul.
Though his life was devoted to the assertion
of divine Providence, and though his philosophy
was imbued with the religious spirit of Plato¬
nism,4 yet he had placed Christianity too purely
in the love of God and man to be considered as
having much regard for those controversies about
rites and opinions with which zealots disturb
the world. They represented him as having
fallen into the same heresy with Milton and
with Clarke;5 and some of them even charged
him with atheism, for no other reason than that
he was not afraid to state the atheistic difficul¬
ties in their fullest force. As blind anger heaps
inconsistent accusations on each other, they call¬
ed him at least “ an Arian, a Socinian, or a
Deist.”6 The courtiers of Charles II., who were
delighted with every part of Hobbes but his in-
1 A curious account of the history of these MSS. by l)r Kippis, is to be found in the Biographia Britannica, IV. 549.
* London, 1731, 8vo.
3 “ There are many objects of our mind which we can neither see, hear, feel, smell, nor taste, and which did never en¬
ter into it by any sense; and therefore we can have no sensible pictures or ideas of them, drawn by the pencil of that
inward limner or painter which borrows all his colours from sense., which we call Fancy: and if we reflect on our own
cogitations of these things, we shall sensibly perceive that they are not phantastical,\>u\, noematical: as, for example, justice,
equity, duty and obligation, cogitation, opinion, intellection, volition, memory, verity, falsity, cause, effect, genus, species,
nullity, contingency, possibility, impossibility, and innumerable others.” {Eternal and Immutable Morality, 140.) ^e
have here an anticipation of Kant.
4 Evirtflu, oi t«*vov, 5 ya^ airtflaiv uk^ui Be pious, my son, for piety is the sum of Christianity. (Motto affixed
to the sermon above mentioned.)
5 The following doctrine is ascribed to Cudworth by Nelson, a man of good understanding and great w'orth : “ Dr Cud¬
worth maintained that the Father, absolutely speaking, is the only supreme God ; the Son and Spirit being God only by
his concurrence with them, and their subordination and subjection to him.” (Nelson’s Life of Bull, p. 339.)
s Turner’s Discourse on the Messiah, p. 335.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
327
tegrity, did tlieir utmost to decry his antagonist.
They turned the railing of the bigots into a
sarcasm against religion; as we learn from him
who represented them with unfortunate fidelity.
« He has raised,” says Dryden, “ such strong
objections against the being of God, that many
think he has not answered them“ the com¬
mon fate,”as Lord Shaftesbury tells us, “of those
who dare to appear fair authors.”1 He had, in¬
deed, earned the hatred of some theologians,
better than they could know from the writings
published during his life; for in his posthumous
work he classes with the ancient atheists those of
his contemporaries, whom he forbears to name,
who held “ that God may command what is con¬
trary to moral rules; that he has no inclination to
the good of his creatures; that he may justly doom
an innocent being to eternal torments; and that
whatever God does will, for that reason is just,
because he wills it.”2 It is an interesting inci¬
dent in the life of a philosopher, that Cudworth’s
daughter, Lady Masham, had the honour to nurse
the infirmities and to watch the last breath of Mr
Locke, who was opposed to her father in specu¬
lative philosophy, but who heartily agreed with
him in the love of truth, liberty, and virtue.
CLARKE.3
Connected with Cudworth by principle,though
separated by some interval of time, was Dr
Samuel Clarke, a man eminent at once as a di¬
vine, a mathematician, a metaphysical philoso¬
pher, and a philologer; who, as the interpreter of
Homer and Caesar, the scholar of Newton, and
the antagonist of Leibnitz, approved himself not
unworthy of correspondence with the highest
order of human spirits. Roused by the preva¬
lence of the doctrines of Spinoza and Hobbes, he
endeavoured to demonstrate the being and attri¬
butes of God, from a few axioms and definitions,
in the manner of geometry; an attempt in which,
with all his powers of argument, it must be
owned that he is compelled sometimes tacitly
to assume what the laws of reasoning required
him to prove; and that, on the whole, his failure
may be regarded as a proof that such a mode
of argument is beyond the faculties of man.4
Justly considering the moral attributes of the
Deity as what alone renders him the object of
religion, and to us constitutes the difference be¬
tween theism and atheism, he laboured with
the utmost zeal to place the distinctions of right
and wrong on a more solid foundation ; and to
explain the conformity of morality to reason, in
a manner calculated to give a precise and scien¬
tific signification to that phraseology which all
philosophers had, for so many ages, been content
to employ, without thinking themselves obliged
to define.
It is one of the most rarely successful efforts
of the human mind, to place the understanding
at the point from which a philosopher takes the
views that compose his system, to recollect con¬
stantly his purposes, to adopt for a moment his
previous opinions and prepossessions, to think
in his words and to see with his eyes; especially
when the writer widely dissents from the sys¬
tem which he attempts to describe, and after a
general change in the modes of thinking and in
the use of terms. Every part of the present
Dissertation requires such an excuse; but perhaps
it may be more necessary in a case like that of
Clarke, where the alterations in both respects
have been so insensible, and in some respects
appear so limited, that they may escape atten¬
tion, than after those total revolutions in doc-
‘ Moralists, Part ii. sect. 3. .
2 Eternal and Immutable Morality, p. 11. He names only one book published at l raneker. He quotes Ockham as having
formerly maintained the same monstrous positions. To many, if not to most of these opinions or expressions, ancient and
modern, reservations are adjoined, which render them literally reconcilable with practical morals. But the dangerous abuse
to which the incautious language of ethical theories is liable, is well illustrated by an anecdote related in Plutarch s Life
ot Alexander. A sycophant named Anaxarchas consoled that monarch for the murder of Clitus, by assuring him that
every act of a ruler must be just. Tbxv m ir^itxhv irro too KnarowTo; S/xxisv. (Plut. Ojoer. I. 639. Franc. 1599.)
4 Born in 1675 ; died in 1729. . . , ,
4 This admirable person had so much candour as in effect to own his failure, and to recur to those other arguments in
support of this great truth, which have in all ages satisfied the most elevated minds. In Proposition yiii. (Being and Attri¬
butes of God, p. 47) which affirms that the first cause must be “ intelligent,” (where, as he truly states, “ lies the main question
between us and the atheists”) he owns, that the proposition cannot be demonstrated strictly and properly a priori.
See Notes and Illustrations, note M.
328
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
trine, where the necessity of not measuring
other times by our own standard must be ap¬
parent to the most undistinguishing.
The sum of his moral doctrine may be stated
as follows. Man can conceive nothing without
at the same time conceiving its relations to other
things. He must ascribe the same law of per¬
ception to every being to whom he ascribes
thought. He cannot therefore doubt that all
the relations of all things to all must have al¬
ways been present to the Eternal Mind. The re¬
lations in this sense are eternal, however recent
the things may he between whom they subsist.
The whole of these relations constitute truth.
The knowledge of them is omniscience. These
eternal different relations of things involve a
consequent eternal fitness or unfitness in the ap¬
plication of things one to another; with a re¬
gard to which, the will of God always chooses,
and which ought likewise to determine the wills
of all subordinate rational beings. These eter¬
nal differences make it fit and reasonable for the
creatures so to act; they cause it to be their
duty, or lay an obligation on them so to do, se¬
parate from the will of God,1 and antecedent to
any prospect of advantage or reward.3 Nay,
wilful wickedness is the same absurdity and
insolence in morals, as it would be in natural
things to pretend to alter the relations of num¬
bers, or to take away the properties of ma¬
thematical figures.3 “Morality,” says one of
his most ingenious scholars, <c is the practice of
reason.”4
Clarke, like Cudworth, considered such a
scheme as the only security against Hobbism,
and probably against the Calvinistic theology,
from which they were almost as averse. Not
content, with Cumberland, to attack Hobbes on
ground which was in part his own, they thought
it necessary to build on entirely new founda¬
tions. Clarke more especially, instead of sub¬
stituting social and generous feeling for the self¬
ish appetites, endeavoured to bestow on morality
the highest dignity, by thus deriving it from
reason. He made it more than disinterested;
for he placed its seat in a region where interest
never enters, and passion never disturbs. By
ranking her principles with the first truths of
science, he seemed to render them pure and im¬
partial, infallible and unchangeable. It might
be excusable to regret the failure of so noble an
attempt, if the indulgence of such regrets did
not betray an unworthy apprehension that the
same excellent ends could only be attained by
such frail means; and that the dictates of the
most severe reason would not finally prove re¬
concilable with the majesty of virtue.
REMARKS.
The adoption of mathematical forms and
terms was, in England, aprevalent fashion among
writers on moral subjects during a large part of
the eighteenth century. The ambition of mathe¬
matical certainty, on matters concerning which
it is not given to man to reach it, is a frailty
from which the disciple of Newton ought in
reason to have been withheld, but to which he
was naturally tempted by the example of his
master. Nothing but the extreme difficulty of
detaching assent from forms of expression to
which it has been long wedded, can explain the
fact, that the incautious expressions above cited,
into which Clarke was hurried by his moral
sensibility, did not awaken him to a sense of the
error into which he had fallen. As soon as he had
said that “ a wicked act was as absurd as an
attempt to take away the properties of a figure,”
he ought to have seen, that principles which led
logically to such a conclusion were untrue. As
it is an impossibility to make three and three
cease to be six, it ought, on his principles, to be
impossible to do a wicked act. To act without
regard to the relations of things, as if a man were
to choose fire for cooling, or ice for heating, would
be the part either of a lunatic or an idiot. The
murderer who poisons by arsenic, acts agreeably
to his knowledge of the power of that substance
to kill, which is a relation between two things;
1 “ Those who found all moral obligation on the will of God must recur to the same thing, only they do not explain
how the nature and will of God is good and just.” (Being and Attributes of God, Proposition xii.)
2 Evidence of Natural and Revealed Religion, p. 4, 6th edit. Lond. 1724.
* Ibid. p. 42.
4 Lowmax on the Unity and Perfections of God, p. 29. Lond. 1737*
DISSERTATION SECOND.
329
as much as the physician who employs an emetic
after the poison, acts upon his belief of the ten¬
dency of that remedy to preserve life, which is
another relation between two things. All men
who seek a good or bad end by good or bad means,
must alike conform their conduct to some rela¬
tion between their actions as means and their
object as an end. All the relations of inanimate
things to each other are undoubtedly observed
as much by the criminal as by the man of virtue.
It is therefore singular that Dr Clarke suffer¬
ed himself to be misled into the representation,
that virtue is a conformity with the relations of
things universally, vice a universal disregard
of them, by the certain, but here insufficient truth,
that the former necessarily implied a regard to
certain particular relations^ which were always
disregarded by those who chose the latter. The
distinction between right and wrong can, there¬
fore, no longer depend on relations as such, but
on a particular class of relations. And it seems
evident that no relations are to be considered, ex¬
cept those in which a living, intelligent, and
voluntary agent is one of the beings related.
His acts may relate to a law, as either observing
or infringing it; they may relate to his own mo¬
ral sentiments and those of his fellows, as they
are the objects of approbation or disapprobation ;
they may relate to his own welfare, by increas¬
ing or abating it; they may relate to the well¬
being of other sentient beings, by contributing
to promote or obstruct it: but in all these, and
in all supposable cases, the inquiry of the moral
philosopher must be, not whether there be a re¬
lation, but what the relation is; whether it be
that of obedience of law, or agreeableness to
moral feeling, or suitableness to prudence, or
coincidence with benevolence. The term rela¬
tion itself, on which Dr Clarke’s system rests,
being common to right and wrong, must be
struck out of the reasoning. He himself inci¬
dentally drops intimations which are at variance
with his system. “ The Deity,” he tells us,
“ acts according to the eternal relations of things,
in order to the welfare of the whole universe
and subordinate moral agents ought to be go¬
verned by the same rules, “ for the good of the
public.”1 No one can fail to observe that a new
element is here introduced—the wellbeing of
communities of men, and the general happiness
of the world—which supersedes the consideration
of abstract relations and fitnesses.
There are other views of this system, how¬
ever, of a more general nature, and of much
more importance, because they extend in a con¬
siderable degree to all systems which found
moral distinctions or sentiments, solely or ulti¬
mately, upon reason. A little reflection will
discover an extraordinary vacuity in this sys¬
tem. Supposing it were allowed that it satis¬
factorily accounts for moral judgments, there is
still an important part of our moral sentiments
which it passes by without an attempt to ex¬
plain them. Whence, on this scheme, the plea¬
sure or pain with which we review our own ac¬
tions, or survey those of others ? What is the
nature of remorse ? Why do we feel shame ?
Whence is indignation against injustice ? These
are surely no exercise of reason. Nor is the as¬
sent of reason to any other class of propositions
followed or accompanied by emotions of this na¬
ture, by any approaching them, or indeed neces¬
sarily by any emotion at all. It is a fatal objec¬
tion to a moral theory, that it contains no means
of explaining the most conspicuous, if not the
most essential, parts of moral approbation and
disapprobation.
But to rise to a more general consideration :
Perception and emotion are states of mind per¬
fectly distinct; and an emotion of pleasure or
pain differs much more from a mere perception,
than the perceptions of one sense do from those
of another. The perceptions of all the senses
have some qualities in common. But an emo¬
tion has not necessarily anything in common
with a perception, but that they are both states
of mind. We perceive exactly the same quali¬
ties in coffee when we may dislike it, as after¬
wards when wre come to like it. In other words,
the perception remains the same when the sen¬
sation of pain is changed into the opposite sen¬
sation of pleasure. The like change may oc¬
cur in every case where pleasure or pain (in
such instances called sensations) enter the mind
2 T
DISS. II.
1 Evidence of Natural and Revealed Religion, p. 4.
330
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
with perceptions through the eye or the ear.
The prospect or the sound which was disagree¬
able may become agreeable, without any altera¬
tion in our idea of the objects. We can easily
imagine a percipient and thinking being without
a capacity of receiving pleasure or pain. Such
a being might perceive what we do; if we could
conceive him to reason, he might reason justly;
and if he were to judge at all, there seems no
reason why he should not judge truly. But
what could induce such a being to will or to act ?
It seems evident that his existence could only
be a state of passive contemplation. Reason, as
reason, can never be a motive to action. It is
only when we superadd to such a being sensi¬
bility, or the capacity of emotion or sentiment,
(or what in corporeal cases is called sensation)
of desire and aversion, that we introduce him
into the world of action. We then clearly dis¬
cern, that when the conclusion of a process of
reasoning presents to his mind an object of de¬
sire, or the means of obtaining it, a motive of
action begins to operate; and reason may then,
but not till then, have a powerful though indi¬
rect influence on conduct. Let any argument
to dissuade a man from immorality be employ¬
ed, and the issue of it will always appear to be
an appeal to a feeling. You prove that drunk¬
enness will probably ruin health. No position
founded on experience is more certain. Most
persons with whom you reason must be as much
convinced of it as you are. But your hope of
success depends on the drunkard’s fear of ill
health; and he may always silence your argu¬
ment by telling you that he loves wine more
than he dreads sickness. You speak in vain
of the infamy of an act to one who disre¬
gards the opinion of others; or of its impru¬
dence to a man of little feeling for bis own fu¬
ture condition. You may truly, but vainly, tell
of the pleasures of friendship to one who has
little affection. If you display the delights of
liberality to a miser, be may always shut your
mouth by answering, “ The spendthrift may pre¬
fer such pleasures; I love money more.” If
you even appeal to a man’s conscience, he may
answer you, that you have clearly proved the im¬
morality of the act, and that he himself knew it
before; but that now when you had renewed and
freshened his conviction, he was obliged to own,
that his love of virtue, even aided by the fear of
dishonour, remorse, and punishment, was not so
powerful as the desire which hurried him into vice.
Nor is it otherwise, however confusion of ideas
may cause it to be so deemed, with that calm re¬
gard to the welfare of the agent, to which philo¬
sophers have so grossly misapplied the hardly in¬
telligible appellation of self-love. The general
tendency of right conduct to permanent wellbeing
is indeed one of the most evident of all truths.
But the success of persuasives or dissuasives ad¬
dressed to it, must always be directly propor¬
tioned, not to the clearness with which the truth
is discerned, but to the strength of the principle
addressed, in the mind of the individual; and to
the degree in which he is accustomed to keep an
eye on its dictates. A strange prejudice pre¬
vails, which ascribes to what is called self-love
an invariable superiority over all the other mo¬
tives of human action. If it were to be called
by a more fit name, such as foresight, prudence,
or, what seems most exactly to describe its na¬
ture, a sympathy with the future feelings of the
agent, it would appear to every observer to be,
very often, too languid and inactive, always of
late appearance, and, sometimes, so faint as to
be scarcely perceptible. Almost every human
passion in its turn prevails over self-love.
It is thus apparent that the influence of reason
on the will is indirect, and arises only from its
being one of the channels by which the objects
of desire or aversion are brought near to these
springs of voluntary action. It is only one of
these channels. There are many other modes
of presenting to the mind the proper objects of
the emotions which it is intended to excite,
whether of a calmer or of a more active nature;
so that they may influence conduct more power¬
fully than when they reach the will through the
channel of conviction. The distinction between
conviction and persuasion would indeed be other¬
wise without a meaning: to teach the mind would
be the same thing as to move it; and eloquence
would be nothing but logic, although the greater
part of the power of the former is displayed in
the direct excitement of feeling;—on condition,
indeed, (for reasons foreign to our present pur¬
pose) that the orator shall never appear to give
DISSERTATION SECOND.
331
counsel inconsistent with the duty or the lasting
welfare of those whom he would persuade. In
like manner it is to be observed, that though
reasoning he one of the instruments of education,
yet education is not a proof of reasoning, hut a
wise disposal of all the circumstances which in¬
fluence character, and of the means of producing
those habitual dispositions which insure well¬
doing, of which reasoning is hut one. Very
similar observations are applicable to the great
arts of legislation and government; which are
here only alluded to as forming a strong illustra¬
tion of the present argument.
The abusive extension of the term Reason to
the moral faculties, one of the predominant
errors of ancient and modern times, has arisen
from causes which it is not difficult to discover.
Reason does in truth perform a great part in
every case of moral sentiment. To reason often
belong the preliminaries of the act; to reason
altogether belongs the choice of the means of
execution. The operations of reason, in both
cases, are comparatively slow and lasting; they
are capable of being distinctly recalled by mem->
ory. The emotion which intervenes between
the previous and the succeeding exertions of
reason is often faint, generally transient, and
scarcely ever capable of being reproduced by an
effort of the mind. Hence the name of reason
is applied to this mixed state of mind; more
especially when the feeling, being of a cold and
general nature, and scarcely ruffling the sur¬
face of the soul, such as those of prudence and
of ordinary kindness and propriety, almost passes
unnoticed, and is irretrievably forgotten. Hence
the mind is, in such conditions, said by moralists
to act from reason, in contradistinction to its more
excited and disturbed state, when it is said to
act from passion. The calmness of reason gives
to the whole compound the appearance of un-
mixed reason. The illusion is further promoted
by a mode of expression used in most languages.
A man is said to act reasonably, when his con¬
duct is such as may be reasonably expected.
Amidst the disorders of a vicious mind, it is
difficult to form a reasonable conjecture con¬
cerning future conduct; but the quiet and well-
ordered state of virtue renders the probable acts
of her fortunate votaries the object of very ra¬
tional expectation.
As far as it is not presumptuous to attempt a
distinction between modes of thinking foreign
to the mind which makes the attempt, and modes
of expression scarcely translatable into the only
technical language in which that mind is wont
to think, it seems that the systems of Cudworth
and Clarke, though they appear very similar,
are in reality different in some important points
of view. The former, a Platonist, sets out from
those Ideas, (a word, in this acceptation of it,
which has no corresponding term in English)
the eternal models of created things, which, as
the Athenian master taught, pre-existed in the
everlasting intellect, and, of right, rule the will
of every inferior mind. The illustrious scholar
of Newton, with a manner of thinking more
natural to his age and school, considered pri¬
marily the very relations of things themselves ;
conceived indeed by the Eternal Mind, but
which, if such inadequate language may be par¬
doned, are the law of its will, as well as the
model of its works.1
EARL OF SHAFTESBURY.a
Lord Shaftesbury, the author of the CAffrac- vices, the bitter fruits of the insecurity of a
teristics, was the grandson of Sir Antony Ashley troublous time, succeeded by the corrupting ha-
Cooper, created Earl of Shaftesbury, one of bits of an inconstant, venal, and profligate court,
the master spirits of the English nation, whose have led an ungrateful posterity to overlook his
1 Mr Wollaston’s system, that morality consisted in acting according to truth, seems to coincide with that of Dr Clarke.
The murder of Cicero by Popilius Lenas, was, according to him, a practical falsehood ; for Cicero had been his benefactor,
but Popilius acted as if that were untrue. If the truth spoken of be, that gratitude is due for benefits, the reasoning is
evidently a circle. If any truth be meant, indifferently, it is plain that the assassin acted in perfect conformity to several
certain truths; such as the malignity of Antony, the ingratitude and venality of Popilius, and the probable impunity of his
crime, when law was suspended, and good men without power.
3 Born in 1671; died in 1713.
332
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
wisdom, and disinterested perseverance, in ob¬
taining for the English nation the unspeakable
benefits of the Habeas Corpus act. The for¬
tune of the Characteristics has been singular.
For a time the work was admired more undis-
tinguishingly than its literary character war¬
rants. In the succeeding period it was justly
criticised, but too severely condemned. Of
late, more unjustly than in either of the former
cases, it has been generally neglected. It seemed
to have the power of changing the temper of its
critics. It provoked the amiable Berkeley to a
harshness equally unwonted atid unwarranted;1
while it softened the rugged Warburton so far
as to dispose the fierce yet not altogether un¬
generous polemic to praise an enemy in the
very heat of conflict.®
Leibnitz, the most celebrated of Continental
philosophers, warmly applauded the Character¬
istics, and, (what was a more certain proof of
admiration) though at an advanced age, cri¬
ticised that work minutely.3 Le Clerc, who
had assisted the studies of the author, contri¬
buted to spread its reputation by his Journal,
then the most popular in Europe. Locke is
said to have aided in his education, probably
rather by counsel than by tuition. The author
had indeed been driven from the regular stu¬
dies of his country by the insults with which he
was loaded at Winchester school, when he was
only twelve years old, immediately after the
death of his grandfather; a choice of time which
seemed not so much to indicate anger against
the faults of a great man, as triumph over
the principles of liberty, which seemed at that
time to have fallen for ever. He gave a gen¬
uine proof of respect for freedom of thought,
by preventing the expulsion, from Holland, of
Bayle, (with whom he differs in every moral,
political, and, it may be truly added, religious
opinion) when, it must be owned, the right of
asylum was, in strict justice, forfeited by the se¬
cret services which the philosopher had rendered
to the enemy of Holland and of Europe. In
the small part of his short life which premature
infirmities allowed him to apply to public affairs,
he co-operated zealously with the friends of
freedom; but, as became a moral philosopher,
he supported, even against them, a law to allow
those who were accused of treason to make their
defence by counsel, although the parties first to
benefit from this act of imperfect justice were
conspirators to assassinate King William, and
to re-enslave their country. On that occasion
it is well known with what admirable quickness
he took advantage of the embarrassment which
seized him, when he rose to address the House
of Commons. “ If I,” said he, “ who rise only
to give my opinion on this bill, am so confound¬
ed that I cannot say what I intended, what
must the condition of that man be, who, with¬
out assistance, is pleading for his own life !” He
was the friend of Lord Somers ; and the tribute
paid to his personal character by Warburton,
who knew many of his contemporaries and some
of his friends, may be considered as evidence of
its excellence.
His fine genius and generous spirit shine
through his writings; but their lustre is often
dimmed by peculiarities, and, it must be said,
by affectations, which, originating in local, tem¬
porary, or even personal circumstances, are
particularly fatal to the permanence of fame.
There is often a charm in the egotism of an art¬
less writer, or of an actor in great scenes. But
other laws are imposed on the literary artist.
Lord Shaftesbury, instead of hiding himself be¬
hind his work, stands forward with too frequent
marks of self-complacency, as a nobleman of
polished manners, with a mind adorned by the
1 Berkeley’s Minute Philosopher, Dialogue iii.; but especially his Theory of Vision Vindicated, Loud. 1733, (not re¬
published in the quarto edition of his works) where this most excellent man sinks for a moment to the level of a railing
polemic.
2 It is remarkable that the most impure passages of Warburton’s composition are those in which he lets loose his contro¬
versial zeal, and that he is a fine writer principally where he writes from generous feeling. “ Of all the virtues which were
so much in this noble writer’s heart and in his writings, there was not one he more revered than the love of public liberty.
... The noble author of the Characteristics had many excellent qualities, both as a man and a writer. He was temperate,
chaste, honest, and a lover of his country. In his writings he has shown how much he has imbibed the deep sense, and how
naturally he could copy the gracious manner, of Plato.” (Dedication to the Freethinkers, prefixed to the Divine Legation.)
"Warburton, however, soon relapses, but not without excuse; for he thought himself vindicating the memory of Locke.
* Opera, tom. III. p. 39-50.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
333
fine arts, and instructed by ancient philosophy;
shrinking with a somewhat efifeminate fastid¬
iousness from the clamour and prejudices of
the multitude, whom he neither deigns to con¬
ciliate nor puts forth his strength to subdue.
Tiie enmity of the majority of churchmen to the
government established at the Revolution, was
calculated to fill his mind with angry feelings;
which overflow too often, if not upon Christian¬
ity itself, yet upon representations of it, closely
intertwined with those religious feelings to which,
in other forms, his own philosophy ascribes sur¬
passing worth. His small, and occasional writ¬
ings, of which the main fault is the want of an
object or a plan, have many passages remark¬
able for the utmost beauty and harmony of lan¬
guage. Had he imbibed the simplicity, as well
as copied the expression and cadence of the
greater ancients, he would have done more jus¬
tice to his genius; and his works, like theirs,
would have been preserved by that quality, with¬
out which but a very few writings, of whatever
mental power, have long survived their writers.
Grace belongs only to natural movements; and
Lord Shaftesbury, notwithstanding the frequent
beauty of his thoughts and language, has rarely
attained it. He is unfortunately prone to plea¬
santry, which is obstinately averse from con¬
straint, and which he had no interest in raising to
be the test of truth. His affectation of liveliness
as a man of the world, tempts him sometimes to
overstep the indistinct boundaries which sepa¬
rate familiarity from vulgarity. Of his two
more considerable writings, the Moralists, on
which he evidently most valued himself, and
which is spoken of by Leibnitz with enthusiasm,
is by no means the happiest. Yet perhaps there
is scarcely any composition in our language
more lofty in its moral and religious sentiments,
and more exquisitely elegant and musical in
its diction, than the Platonic representation of
the scale of beauty and love, in the speech to
Palemon, near the close of the first part.1
Many passages might be quoted, which in some
measure justify the enthusiasm of the septuage¬
narian geometer. Yet it is not to be concealed
that, as a whole, it is heavy and languid. It is
a modern antique. The dialogues of Plato are
often very lively representations of conversations
which might take place daily at a great univer¬
sity, full, like Athens, of rival professors and eager
disciples,—between men of various character,
and great fame as well as ability. Socrates runs
through them all. His great abilities, his still
more venerable virtues, his cruel fate, especially
when joined to his very characteristic pecu¬
liarities,—to his grave humour, to his homely
sense, to his assumed humility, to the honest
sliness with which he ensnared the Sophists,
and to the intrepidity with which he dragged
them to justice, gave unity and dramatic inter¬
est to these dialogues as a whole. But Lord
Shaftesbury’s dialogue is between fictitious per¬
sonages, and in a tone at utter variance with
English conversation. He had great power of
thought and command over words. But he had
no talent for inventing character and bestowing
life on it. The Inquiry concerning Virtue* is
nearly exempt from the faulty peculiarities of the
author; the method is perfect, the reasoning just,
the style precise and clear. The writer has no
purpose but that of honestly proving his prin¬
ciples; he himself altogether disappears; and
he is intent only on earnestly enforcing what he
truly, conscientiously, and reasonably believes.
Hence the charm of simplicity is revived in this
production, which is unquestionably entitled to
a place in the first rank of English tracts on
Moral Philosophy.
The point in which it becomes especially per¬
tinent to the subject of this Dissertation is, that it
contains more intimations of an original and
important nature on the Theory of Ethics than
perhaps any preceding work ot modern times.3
It is true that they are often but intimations,
cursory, and appearing almost to be casual; so
that many of them have escaped the notice of
most readers, and even writers on these subjects.
1 Characteristics, Treatise v. The Moralists, Part i. sect. 3.
* Ibid. Treatise iv.
s I am not without suspicion that I have overlooked the claims of Dr Henry More, who, notwithstanding some un¬
couthness of language, seems to have given the first intimations of a distinct moral faculty, which he cans “ the iiomform
Pacultya phrase against which an outcry would now be raised as German. Happiness, according to him, consists in a
constant satisfaction, tv rf ct'yctHou'bu rris {Enchiridion Ethicum, lib. i. cap. ii.^
334
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
That the consequences of some of them are even
yet not unfolded, must he owned to he a proof
that they are inadequately stated; and may he
regarded as a presumption that the author did
not closely examine the bearings of his own po¬
sitions. Among the most important of these
suggestions is, the existence of dispositions in
man, by which he takes pleasure in the wellbeing
of others, without any further view; a doctrine,
however, to all the consequences of which he
has not been faithful in his other writings.1
Another is, that goodness consists in the preva¬
lence of love for the system of which we are a
part, over the passions, pointing to our indi¬
vidual welfare; a proposition which somewhat
confounds the motives of right acts with their
tendency, and seems to favour the melting of all
particular affections into general benevolence,
because the tendency of these affections is to
general good. The next, and certainly the most
original, as well as important, is, that there are
certain affections of the mind which, being con¬
templated by the mind itself through what he
' calls a reflex sense, become the objects of love,
or the contrary, according to their nature.
So approved and loved, they constitute virtue
or merit, as distinguished from mere goodness,
of which there are traces in animals who do
not appear to reflect on the state of their own
minds, and who seem, therefore, destitute of
what he elsewhere calls a moral sense. These
statements are, it is true, far too short and
vague. He nowhere inquires into the origin of
the reflex sense. What is a much more material
defect, he makes no attempt to ascertain in what
state of mind it consists. We discover only by
implication, and by the use of the term sense,
that he searches for the fountain of moral senti¬
ments, not in mere reason, where Cudworth
and Clarke had vainly sought for it, hut in the
heart, whence the main branch of them assu¬
redly flows. It should never he forgotten, that
we owe to these hints the reception, into ethical
theory, of a moral sense; which, whatever maybe
thought of its origin, or in whatever words it may
he described, must always retain its place in such
theory as a main principle of our moral nature.
His demonstration of the utility of virtue
to the individual, far surpasses all attempts
of the same nature; being founded, not on
a calculation of outward advantages or incon¬
veniences, alike uncertain, precarious, and de¬
grading, hut on the unshaken foundation of
the delight, which is of the very essence of so¬
cial affection and virtuous sentiment; on the
dreadful agony inflicted by all malevolent pas¬
sions, upon every soul that harbours the hellish
inmates ; on the all-important truth, that to love
is to he happy, and to hate is to be miserable,—
that affection is its own reward, and ill-will its
own punishment; or, as it has been more simply
and more affectingly, as well as with more sa¬
cred authority, taught, that to give is more
blessed than to receive, and that to love one
another is the sum of all human virtue.
The relation of religion to morality, as far as
it can he discovered by human reason, was never
more justly or more beautifully stated.2 If
he represented the mere hope of reward and
dread of punishment as selfish, and therefore
inferior motives to virtue and piety, he distinct¬
ly owns their efficacy in reclaiming from vice,
in rousing from lethargy, and in guarding a
feeble penitence ; in all which he coincides with
illustrious and zealous Christian writers. <£ If
by the hope of reward he understood the love
and desire of virtuous enjoyment, or of the very
practice and exercise of virtue in another life;
an expectation or hope of this kind is so far
from being derogatory from virtue, that it is an
evidence of our loving it the more sincerely and
for its own sake.”5
1 “ It is the height of wisdom no doubt to be rightly selfish.” (Charac. I. 121.) The observation seems to be taken
from what Aristotle says of : Toy /t-.v ayatoy 'hit <PiXuvtov u'jai. (Arist. Ethic, ix. c. viii.) The chapter is admirable, ana
the assertion of Aristotle is very capable of a good sense.
2 Characteristics, Inquiry concerning Virtue.
3 Ibid.
So Jeremy Taylor : “ lie that is grown in grace pursues virtue purely and simply for its own interest. When persons
come to that height of grace, and love God for himself, that is but heaven in another sense.” {Sermon on Growth in Grace.)
So before him the once celebrated Mr John Smith of Cambridge : “ The happiness which good men shall partake is not
distinct from their godlike nature. Happiness and holiness are but two several notions of one thing. Hell is rather a
)
DISSERTATION SECOND.
335
FENELON1
As the last question, though strictly speak¬
ing theological, is yet in truth dependent on
the more general question, which relates to the
reality of disinterested affections in human na¬
ture, it seems not foreign from the present pur¬
pose to give a short account of a dispute on the
subject in France, between two of the most emi¬
nent persons of their time; namely, the contro¬
versy between Fenelon and Bossuet, concerning
the possibility of men being influenced by the
pure and disinterested love of God. Never were
two great men more unlike. Fenelon in his
writings exhibits more of the qualities which pre¬
dispose to religious feelings, than any other
equally conspicuous person;—a mind so pure as
steadily to contemplate supreme excellence; a
heart capable of being touched and affected by
the contemplation; a gentle and modest spirit,
not elated by the privilege, but seeing its own
want of worth as it came nearer to such bright¬
ness, and disposed to treat with compassionate
forbearance those errors in others, of which it
felt a humbling consciousness. Bossuet was ra¬
ther a great minister in the ecclesiastical com¬
monwealth; employing knowledge, eloquence,
argument, the energy of his character, the in¬
fluence, and even the authority of his station, to
vanquish opponents, to extirpate revolters, and,
sometimes with a patrician firmness, to with¬
stand the dictatorial encroachment of the Roman
Pontiff on the spiritual aristocracy of France.
Fenelon had been appointed tutor to the Guke
of Burgundy. He had all the qualities which
fit a man to be the preceptor of a prince, and
-BOSSUET.1
which most disable him to get or to keep the
office. Even birth, and urbanity, and accom¬
plishment, and vivacity, were an insufficient
atonement for his genius and virtue. Louis
XIV. distrusted so fine a spirit, and appears to
have early suspected, that a fancy moved by
such benevolence might imagine examples for
his grandson which the world would consider as
a satire on his own reign. Madame de Main-
tenon, indeed, favoured him ; but he was gene¬
rally believed to have forfeited her good graces
by discouraging her projects for at least a near¬
er approach to a seat on the throne. He offend¬
ed her by obeying her commands, in laying be¬
fore her an account of her faults, and some of
those of her royal husband, which was probably
the more painfully felt for its mildness, justice,
and refined observation.5 An opportunity for
driving such an intruder from a court presented
itself somewhat strangely, in the form of a subtile
controversy on one of the most abstruse ques¬
tions of metaphysical theology. Mol in os, a Spa¬
nish priest, reviving and perhaps exaggerating
the maxims of the ancient Mystics, had recently
taught, that Christian perfection consisted in the
pure love of God, without hope of reward or fear
of punishment. This offence he expiated by
seven years’ imprisonment in the dungeons of
the Roman Inquisition. His opinions were em¬
braced by Madame Guy on, a pious French lady
of strong feeling and active imagination, who
appears to have expressed them in a hyperboli¬
cal language, not infrequent in devotional exer¬
cises, especially in those of otherwise amiable
nature than a place, and heaven cannot be so well defined bj anything wltlwnt us, as by something within us.” (Select
Discourses, 2d edit. Cambridge, 1673.)
In accordance with these old authorities is the recent language of a most ingenious as well as benevolent and pious wri¬
ter. “ The holiness of heaven is still more attractive to the Christian than its happiness. I he desire of doing that which
is right for its own sake is a part of his desire after heaven.” (Unconditional Freeness of the Gospel, by 1. Ehskine, Esq.
p. 32, 33. Edinb. 1828.)
See also the Appendix to Ward’s Life of Henry More, 247-271. This account of that ingenious and amiable philoso¬
pher (Lond. 1710) contains an interesting view of his opinions, and many beautiful passages of his writings, but un¬
fortunately very few particulars of the man. His letters on Disinterested Piety, (see the Appendix to Mr Ward’s work)
his boundless charity, his zeal for the utmost toleration, and his hope of general improvement from “ a pacific and per¬
spicacious posterity,” place him high in the small number of true philosophers who, in their estimate of men, value dis¬
positions more than opinions, and in their search for good, more often look forward than backward.
1 Born in 1651; died in 1715.
2 Born in 1627 ; died in 1704.
4 Bausset, Histoire de Fenelon, I. 252.
336
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
persons of her sex and character. In the fer¬
vour of her zeal, she disregarded the usages of
the world and the decorums imposed on females.
She left her family, took a part in public con¬
ferences, and assumed an independence scarcely
reconcilable with the more ordinary and more
pleasing virtues of women. Her pious effusions
were examined with the rigour which might be
exercised on theological propositions. She was
falsely charged by Harlay, the dissolute arch¬
bishop of Paris, with personal licentiousness.
For these crimes she was dragged from convent
to convent, imprisoned for years in the Bastile,
and, as an act of mercy, confined during the lat¬
ter years of her life to a provincial town, as a
prison at large. A piety thus pure and disin¬
terested could not fail to please Fenelon. He
published a work in justification of Madame
Guyon’s character, and in explanation of the
degree in which he agreed with her. Bossuet,
the oracle and champion of the church, took up
arms against him. It would be painful to sup¬
pose that a man of so great powers was actuated
by mean jealousy, and it is needless. The union
of zeal for opinion with the pride of author¬
ity, is apt to give sternness to the administra¬
tion of controversial bishops; to say nothing of
the haughty and inflexible character of Bossuet
himself. He could not brook the independence
of him who was hitherto so docile a scholar and
so gentle a friend. He was jealous of novelties,
and dreaded a fervour of piety likely to be un¬
governable, and perhaps to excite movements of
which no man could foresee the issue. It must
be allowed that he had reason to be displeased
with the indiscretion and turbulence of the in¬
novators, and might apprehend that, in preach¬
ing motives to virtue and religion which he
thought unattainable, the coarser but surer
foundations of common morality might be
loosened. A controversy ensued, in which he
employed the utmost violence of polemical or
factious contest. Fenelon replied with brilliant
success, and submitted his book to the judg¬
ment of Rome. After a long examination, the
commission of ten Cardinals appointed to ex¬
amine it were equally divided, and he seemed
in consequence about to be acquitted. But
Bossuet had in the mean time easily gained
Louis XIY. Madame de Maintenon betrayed
Fenelon’s confidential correspondence; and he
was banished to his diocese, and deprived of his
pensions and official apartments in the palace.
Louis XIV. regarded the slightest differences
from the authorities of the French church as re¬
bellion against himself. Though endowed with
much natural good sense, he was too grossly
ignorant to be made to comprehend one of the
terms of the question in dispute. He did not,
however, scruple to urge the Pope to the con¬
demnation of Fenelon. Innocent XII. (Pigna-
telli) an aged and pacific Pontiff, was desirous
of avoiding such harsh measures. He said that
“ the archbishop of Cambray might have erred
from excess in the love of God, but the bishop
of Meaux had sinned by a defect of the love of
his neighbour.”1 But he was compelled to con¬
demn a series of propositions, of which the first
was, “ there is an habitual state of love to God,
which is pure from every motive of personal
interest, and in which neither the fear of punish¬
ment nor the hope of reward has ahty part.”4
Fenelon read the bull which condemned him in
his own cathedral, and professed as humble a
submission as the lowest of his flock. In some
of the writings of his advanced years, which have
been recently published, we observe with regret
that, when wearied out by his exile, ambitious to
regain a place at court through the Jesuits, or
prejudiced against the Calvinising doctrines of
the Jansenists, the strongest anti-papal party
among Catholics, or somewhat detached from a
cause of which his great antagonist had been the
victorious leader, he made concessions to the abso¬
lute monarchy of Rome, which did not become
a luminary of the Gallican church.3
Bossuet, in his writings on this occasion, be¬
sides tradition and authorities, relied mainly on
the supposed principle of philosophy, that man
must desire his own happiness, and cannot de-
1 Bausset, Histoire de Ftnelon, II. 220, note.
5 QZuvres de Bossuet, VIII. 308. Liege, 1767, 8vo.
* De Summi Pontificis Auctoritate Dissertatio: (Euvret de Feneeon, tome II. Versailles, 1820.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
337
sire anything else, otherwise than as a means to¬
wards it; which renders the controversy an inci¬
dent in the history of Ethics. It is immediately
connected with the preceding part of this Dis¬
sertation, hy the almost literal coincidence be¬
tween Bossuet’s foremost objection to the dis¬
interested piety contended for by Fenelon, and
the fundamental position of a very ingenious
and once noted divine of the English church,
in his attack on the disinterested affections,
believed by Shaftesbury to be a part of human
nature.1
LEIBNITZ.®
There is a singular contrast between the form
of Leibnitz’s writings and the character of his
mind. The latter was systematical, even to ex¬
cess. It was the vice of his prodigious intellect,
on every subject of science where it was not
bound by geometrical chains, to confine his view
to those most general principles, so well called
by Bacon “ merely notionalwhich render it,
indeed, easy to build a system, but, only because
they may be alike adapted to every state of ap¬
pearances, and become thereby really inappli¬
cable to any. Though his genius was thus
naturally turned to system, his writings were,
generally, occasional and miscellaneous. The
fragments of his doctrines are scattered in Re¬
views ; or over a voluminous Literary Correspond¬
ence; or irt the Prefaces and Introductions to
those coiprjnlations to which this great philoso¬
pher was obliged by his situation to descend.
This defective and disorderly mode of publica¬
tion arose partly from the jars between business
and study, inevitable in his course of life; but
probably yet more from the nature of his system,
which, while it widely deviates from the most
general principles of former philosophers, is
ready to embrace their particular doctrines under
its own generalities, and thus to reconcile them
to each other, as well as to accommodate itself
to popular or established opinions, and compro¬
mise with them, according to his favourite and
oft-repeated maxim, “ that most received doc¬
trines are capable of a good sense 5 by which last
words our philosopher meant a sense reconcil¬
able with his own principles. Partial and oc¬
casional exhibitions of these principles suited
better that constant negotiation with opinions,
establishments, and prejudices, to which extreme
generalities are well adapted, than a full and
methodical statement of the whole at once. It
is the lot of every philosopher who attempts to
make his principles extremely flexible, that they
become like those tools which bend so easily as
to penetrate nothing. Yet his manner of publi¬
cation perhaps led him to those wide intuitions,
as comprehensive as those of Bacon, of which he
expressed the result as briefly and pithily as
Hobbes. The fragment which contains his ethi¬
cal principles is the Preface to a collection of
documents illustrative of international law, pub¬
lished at Hanover in 1693 ;4 to which he often
referred as his standard afterwards, especially
when he speaks of Lord Shaftesbury, or of the
controversy between the two great theologi¬
ans of France. “ Right,” says he, “ is moral
power; obligation moral necessity. By moral,
I understand what with a good man prevails as
much as if it were physical. A good man is he
who loves all men as far as reason allows. Justice
1 “ Haec est natura voluntatis humanse, ut et beatitudinem, et ea quorum necessaria connexio cum beatitudine clare
intelligitur, necessario appetat Nullus est actus ad quem revera non impellimur motivo beatitudinis, explicite vel
iniplicitemeaning by the latter that it may be concealed from ourselves, as he says, for a short time, by a nearer object.
(QZuvres de Bossuet, VIII. 80.) “ The only motive by which individuals can be induced to the practice of viitue, must be
the feeling or the prospect of private happiness.” (Brown’s Essays on the Characteristics, p. 159. J.ond. 1752.) It must,
however, be owned, that the selfishness of the Warburtonian is more rigid ; making no provision for the object of one’s
own happiness slipjnng out of view for a moment. It is due to the very ingenious author of this forgotten book to add,
that it is full of praise of his adversary, which, though just, was in the answerer generous ; and that it contains an assertion
of the unbounded right of public discussion, unusual even at the tolerant period of its appearance.
* Born in 1G40 ; died in 1716. _ ,
3 Nouveaux Essais sur VEntendement Humain, liv. i. chap. ii. p. 57- These Essays, which form the greater part of the
publication entitled (Euvres Philosophiques, edited by Baspe, Amst. et Leipz. 1705, are not included in Du tens s edition or
Leibnitz’s works.
4 Codex Juris Gentium Diplomaticus. Hanov. 1C95.
DISS. II. 2 u
338
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
is the benevolence of a wise man. To love is to
be pleased with the happiness of another ; or, in
other words, to convert the happiness of another into
a part of one's own. Hence is explained the
possibility of a disinterested love. When we are
pleased with the happiness of any being, his
happiness becomes one of our enjoyments. Wis¬
dom is the science of happiness.”1
REMARKS.
It is apparent from the above passage, that
Leibnitz had touched the truth on the subject of
disinterested affection ; and that he was more
near clinging to it than any modern philosopher,
except Lord Shaftesbury. It is evident, how¬
ever, from the latter part of it, that, like Shaftes¬
bury, he shrunk from his own just conception;
under the influence of that most ancient and far-
spread prejudice of the schools, which assumed
that such an abstraction as Happiness could be
the object of love, and that the desire of so faint,
distant, and refined an object, was the first
principle of all moral nature, of which every
pther desire was only a modification or a fruit.
Both he and Shaftesbury, however, when they
relapsed into the selfish system, embraced it in
its most refined form; considering the benevo¬
lent affections as valuable parts of our own hap¬
piness, not in consequence of any of their effects
or extrinsic advantages, but of that intrinsic de-
liglitfulness which was inherent in their very
essence. But Leibnitz considered this refined
pleasure as the object in the view of the bene¬
volent man; an absurdity, or rather a contra¬
diction, which, at least in the Inquiry concerning
Virtue, Shaftesbury avoids. It will be seen from
Leibnitz’s limitation, taken together with his
definition of Wisdom, that he regarded the dis¬
tinction of the moral sentiments from the social
affections, and the just subordination of the
latter, as entirely founded on the tendency of
general happiness to increase that of the agent,
not merely as being real, but as being present
to the agent’s mind when lie acts. In a subse¬
quent passage he lowers his tone not a little.
‘c As for the sacrifice of life, or the endurance
of the greatest pain for others, these things are
rather generously enjoined than solidly demon¬
strated by philosophers. For honour, glory, and
self-congratulation, to which they appeal under
the name of Virtue, are indeed mental plea¬
sures, and of a high degree, but not to all, nor
outweighing every bitterness of suffering; since
all cannot imagine them with equal vivacity,
and that power is little possessed by those whom
neither education, nor situation, nor the doc¬
trines of religion or philosophy, have taught to
value mental gratifications.” 8 He concludes very
truly, that morality is completed by a belief of
moral government. But the Inquiry concerning
Virtue had reached that conclusion by a better
road. It entirely escaped his sagacity, as it has
that of nearly all other moralists, that the co¬
incidence of morality with well-understood in¬
terest in our outward actions, is very far from
being the most important part of the question;
for these actions flow from habitual dispositions,
from affections and sensibilities, which deter¬
mine their nature. There may be, and there
are many immoral acts, which, in the sense
in which words are commonly used, are advan¬
tageous to the actor. But the whole sagacity
and ingenuity of the world may be safely chal¬
lenged to point out a case in which virtuous
dispositions, habits, and feelings, are not con¬
ducive in the highest degree to the happiness of
the individual; or to maintain that he is not the
happiest, whose moral sentiments and affections
are such as to prevent the possibility of the
prospect of advantage through unlawful means
from presenting itself to his mind. It would
indeed have been impossible to prove to Regu-
lus that it was his interest to return to a death
of torture in Africa. But what if the proof
had been easy ? The most thorough conviction
on such a point would not have enabled him to
set this example, if he had not been supported
by his own integrity and generosity, by love of
his country, and reverence for his pledged faith.
What could the conviction add to that greatness
of soul, and to these glorious attributes ? With
such virtues he could not act otherwise than he
1 See Notes and Illustrations, note N.
* IMd. note N.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
339
did. Would a father affectionately interested
in a son’s happiness, of very lukewarm feel¬
ings of morality, hut of good sense enough to
weigh gratifications and sufferings exactly, be
really desirous that his son should have these
virtues in a less degree than Regulus, merely
because they might expose him to the fate which
Regulus chose ? On the coldest calculation he
would surely perceive, that the high and glow¬
ing feelings of such a mind during life, altogether
throw into shade a few hours of agony in leaving
it. And, if he himself were so unfortunate that
no more generous sentiment arose in his mind to
silence such calculations, would it not be a re¬
proach to his understanding not to discover,
that though in one case out of millions such a
character might lead a Regulus to torture, yet, in
the common course of nature, it is the source
not only of happiness in life, but of quiet and
honour in death. A case so extreme as that of
Regulus will not perplex, if we bear in mind,
that though we cannot prove the act of heroic
virtue to be conducive to the interest of the
hero, yet we may perceive at once, that nothing
is so conducive to his interest as to have a mind
so formed that it could not shrink from it, but
must rather embrace it with gladness and tri¬
umph. Men of vigorous health are said some¬
times to suffer most in a pestilence. No man
was ever so absurd as for that reason to wish
that he were more infirm. The distemper might
return once in a century. If he were then alive,
he might escape it; and even if he fell, the
balance of advantage would be in most cases
greatly on the side of robust health. In esti¬
mating beforehand the value of a strong bodily
frame, a man of sense would throw the small
chance of a rare and short evil entirely out of
the account. So must the coldest and most self¬
ish moral calculator, who, if he be sagacious and
exact, must pronounce, that the inconveniences
to which a man may be sometimes exposed by a
pure and sound mind, are no reasons for regret¬
ting that we do not escape them by possessing
minds more enfeebled and distempered. Other
occasions will call our attention, in the sequel, to
this important part of the subject. But the great
name of Leibnitz seemed to require that his de¬
grading statement should not be cited without
warning the reader against its egregious fallacy.
MALEBRANCHE.1
This ingenious philosopher and beautiful
writer is the only celebrated Cartesian who has
professedly handled the Theory of Morals.9 His
theory has in some points of view a conformity
to the doctrine of Clarke; while in others it has
given occasion to his English follower Norris5
to say, that if the Quakers understood their
own opinion of the illumination of all men, they
would explain it on the principles of Malebranche.
“ There is,” says he, “ one parent virtue, the
universal virtue, the virtue which renders us
just and perfect, the virtue which will one day
render us happy. It is the only virtue. It is
the love of the universal order, as it eternally
existed in the Divine reason, where every creat¬
ed reason contemplates it. This order is com¬
posed of practical as well as speculative truth.
Reason perceives the moral superiority of one
being over another, as immediately as the equal¬
ity of the radii of the same circle. The rela¬
tive perfection of beings is that part of the im¬
movable order to which men must conform
their minds and their conduct. The love of
order is the whole of virtue, and conformity to
order constitutes the morality of actions.” It
is not difficult to discover, that in spite of the
singular skill employed in weaving this web, it
answers no other purpose than that of hiding
the whole difficulty. The love of universal or¬
der, says Malebranche, requires that we should
value an animal more than a stone, because it
is more valuable ; and love God infinitely more
than man, because he is infinitely better. But
without presupposing the reality of moral dis-
1 Born in 1638 died in 1715.
’ Traite de Morale. Rotterdam, 1684. _ „
J Author of the Theory of the Ideal World, who well copied, though he did not equal the clearness and choice ot expres¬
sion which belonged to his master.
340
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
tinctions, and the power of moral feelings, the
two points to he proved, how can either of
these propositions he evident, or even intel¬
ligible? To say that a love of the eternal
order will produce the love and practice of
every virtue, is an assertion untenable unless
we take morality for granted, and useless if
we do.
In his work on Morals, all the incidental
and secondary remarks are equally well consid¬
ered and well expressed. The manner in which
he applied his principle to the particulars of
human duty, is excellent. He is perhaps the
first philosopher who has precisely laid down
and rigidly adhered to the great principle, that
virtue consists in pure intentions and dispositions
of mind, without which, actions, however con-
JONATHAN
This remarkable man, the metaphysician of
America, was formed among the Calvinists of
New England, when their stern doctrine retained
its rigorous authority.4 His power of subtile ar¬
gument, perhaps unmatched, certainly unsur¬
passed among men, was joined, as in some of
the ancient Mystics, with a character which
raised his piety to fervour. He embraced their
doctrine, probably without knowing it to he
theirs. <£ True religion,” says he, “ in a great
measure consists in holy affections. A love
of divine things, for the beauty and sweetness
of their moral excellency, is the spring of all
holy affections.”5 Had he suffered this noble
principle to take the right road to all its fair
consequences, he would have entirely concurred
with Plato, with Shaftesbury, and Malebranche,
in devotion to C£ the first good, first perfect, and
first fair.” But he thought it necessary after¬
wards to limit his doctrine to his own persua¬
sion, by denying that such moral excellence
could he discovered in divine things by those
formable to rules, are not truly moral; a truth
of the highest importance, which, in the theolo¬
gical form, may be said to have been the main
principle of the first Protestant Reformers. The
ground of piety, according to him, is the con¬
formity of the attributes of God to those moral
qualities which we irresistibly love and revere.1
££ Sovereign princes,” says he, ££ have no right
to use their authority without reason. Even
God has no such miserable right.”2 His dis¬
tinction between a religious society and an
established church, and his assertion of the
right of the temporal power alone to employ
coercion, are worthy of notice, as instances in
which a Catholic, at once philosophical and or¬
thodox, could thus speak, not only of the na¬
ture of God, but of the rights of the church.
EDWARDS.*
Christians who did not take the same view with
him of their religion. All others, and some who
hold his doctrines with a more enlarged spirit,
may adopt his principle without any limitation.
His ethical theory is contained in his Disser¬
tation on the Nature of True Virtue; and in
another, On God’s Chief End in the Creation,
published in London thirty years after his death.
True virtue, according to him, consists in be¬
nevolence, or love to being ££ in general,”
which he afterwards limits to ££ intelligent
being,” though sentient would have involved
a more reasonable limitation. This good-will
is felt towards a particular being, first in pro¬
portion to his degree of existence (for, says he,
££ that which is great has more existence, and is
farther from nothing, than that which is little’’);
and secondly, in proportion to the degree in
which that particular being feels benevolence to
others. Thus God, having infinitely more ex¬
istence and benevolence than man, ought to be
infinitely more loved; and for the same rea-
1 “ II faut aimer l’Etre infiniment parfait, et non pas un fantome epouvantable, un Dieu injuste, absolu, puissant, mais
sans bonte et sans sagesse. S’il y avoit un tel Dieu, le vrai Dieu nous def’endroit de 1’adorer et de I’aimer. ll y a peut-etre
plus de danger d’offenser Dieu lorsqu’on lui donne une forme si horrible, que de mepriser ce fantome.” (Traits, de Morale,
chap, viii.)
2 Ibid. chap. xxii.
* Born in 1703, at Windsor in Connecticut; died in 1758, at Princeton in New Jersey.
4 Notes and Illustrations, note O.
* Edwards on Religious Affections, p. 4, 187. Lond. 1796.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
341
son, God must love himself infinitely more
than he does all other beings.1 He can act
only from regard to himself, and his end in
creation can only he to manifest his whole
nature, which is called acting for his own
glory.
As far as Edwards confines himself to creat¬
ed beings, and while his theory is perfectly in¬
telligible, it coincides with that of universal
benevolence, hereafter to be considered. The
term being is a mere encumbrance, which serves
indeed to give it a mysterious outside, but
brings with it from the schools nothing ex¬
cept their obscurity. He was betrayed into it
by the cloak which it threw over his really un¬
meaning assertion or assumption, that there are
degrees of existence ; without which that part of
his system which relates to the Deity would have
appeared to be as baseless as it really is. When
we try such a phrase by applying it to matters
within the sphere of our experience, we see that
it means nothing but degrees of certain faculties
and powers. But the very application of the
term being to all things, shows that the least
perfect has as much being as the most perfect;
or rather that there can be no difference, so far
as that word is concerned, between two things
to which it is alike applicable. The justness of
the compound proportion on which human vir¬
tue is made to depend, is capable of being tried
by an easy test. If we suppose the greatest of
evil spirits to have a hundred times the bad
passions of Marcus Aurelius, and at the same
time a hundred times his faculties, or, in Ed¬
wards’s language, a hundred times his quantity
of being, it follows from this moral theory, that
we ought to esteem and love the devil exactly
in the same degree as we esteem and love Mar¬
cus Aurelius.
The chief circumstance which justifies so
much being said on the last two writers, is their
concurrence in a point towards which Ethical
Philosophy had been slowly approaching, from
the time of the controversies raised up by Hobbes.
They both indicate the increase of this tendency,
by introducing an element into their theory, for¬
eign from those cold systems of ethical abstrac¬
tion, with which they continued in other respects
to have much in common. Malebranche makes
virtue consist in the love of order, Edwards in
the love of being. In this language we perceive
a step beyond the representation of Clarke, which
made it a conformity to the relations of things;
but a step which cannot be made without pass¬
ing into a new province;—without confessing,
by the use of the word love, that not only per¬
ception and reason, but emotion and sentiment,
are among the fundamental principles of morals.
They still, however, were so wedded to scholas¬
tic prejudice, as to choose two of the most aerial
abstractions which can be introduced into argu¬
ment,—being and order,—to be the objects of
those strong active feelings which were to govern
the human mind.
BUFFIER.2
The same strange disposition to fix on ab¬
stractions as the objects of our primitive feelings,
and the end sought by our warmest desires,
manifests itself in the ingenious writer with
whom this part of the Dissertation closes, under
a form of less dignity than that which it assumes
in the hands of Malebranche and Clarke. Buf-
fier, the only Jesuit whose name has a place in
the history of Abstract Philosophy, has no pecu¬
liar opinions which would have required any
mention of him as a moralist, were it not for the
just reputation of his treatise on First Truths,
with which Dr Reid so remarkably, though un¬
aware of its existence, coincides, even in the
misapplication of so practical a term as com¬
mon sense to denote the faculty which recog¬
nises the truth of First Principles. His phi¬
losophical writings5 are remarkable for that
1 The coincidence of Malebranche with this part of Edwards, is remarkable. Speaking of the Supreme^ Being, he says,
“ II s'aime invinciblement” He adds another more startling expression, u Certainement Dieu ne peut agir que pour lui-
mcme: il n’a point d’autre motif que son amour propre.” (Traits de Morale, chap, xvii-)
“ Born in 1661; died in 1737.
* Cours de Sciences. Paris, 1732, folio.
342
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
perfect clearness of expression, which, since the
great examples of Descartes and Pascal, has
been so generally diffused as to have become
one of the enviable peculiarities of French philo¬
sophical style, and almost of the French lan¬
guage. His ethical doctrine is that most common¬
ly received among philosophers, from Aristotle
to Paley and Bentham : <c I desire to he happy;
but as I live with other men, I cannot be happy
without consulting their happiness:” a propo¬
sition perfectly true indeed, but far too narrow,
as inferring, that in the most benevolent acts
a man must pursue only his own interest, from
the fact that the practice of benevolence does
increase his happiness, and that because a vir¬
tuous mind is likely to be the happiest, our ob¬
servation of that property of virtue is the cause
of our love and reverence for it.
SECTION YI.
Foundations of a more just Theory of Ethics.
BUTLER—HUTCHESON—BERKELEY—HUME—SMITH—PRICE—HARTLEY-TUCKER—
PALEY—BENTHAM—STEWART—BROWN.
From the beginning of ethical controversy to
the eighteenth century, it thus appears, that the
care of the individual for himself, and his re¬
gard for the things which preserve self, were
thought to form the first, and, in the opinion of
most, the earliest of all the principles which
prompt men and other animals to activity; that
nearly all philosophers regarded the appetites
and desires, which look only to self-gratification,
as modifications of this primary principle of self-
love; and that a very numerous body consid¬
ered even the social affections themselves as
nothing more than the produce of a more la¬
tent and subtile operation of the desire of in¬
terest, and of the pursuit of pleasure. It is
true, they often spoke otherwise; but it was
rather from the looseness and fluctuation of
their language, than from distrust in their doc¬
trine. It is true, also, that perhaps all repre¬
sented the gratifications of virtue as more un¬
mingled, more secure, more frequent, and more
lasting, than other pleasures; without which
they could neither have retained a hold on the
assent of mankind, nor reconciled the principles
of their systems with the testimony of their
hearts. We have seen how some began to be
roused from a lazy acquiescence in this an¬
cient hypothesis, by the monstrous consequences
which Hobbes had legitimately deduced from
it. A few, of pure minds and great intellect,
laboured to render morality disinterested, by
tracing it to reason as its source; without con¬
sidering that reason, elevated indeed far above
interest, is also separated by an impassable
gulf, from feeling, affection, and passion. At
length it was perceived by more than one, that
through whatever length of reasoning the mind
may pass in its advances towards action, there
is placed at the end of any avenue through
which it can advance, some principle wholly
unlike mere reason,—some emotion or sentiment
which must be touched, before the springs of
will and action can be set in motion. Had Lord
Shaftesbury steadily adhered to his own prin¬
ciples—had Leibnitz not recoiled from his state¬
ment—the truth might have been regarded as
promulged, though not unfolded. The writings of
both prove, at least to us, enlightened as we are by
what followed, that they were skilful in sound¬
ing, and that their lead had touched the bottom.
But it was reserved for another moral philosopher
to determine this hitherto unfathomed depth.1
1 The doctrine of the Stoics is thus put by Cicero into the mouth of Cato : “ Placet his, inquit, quorum ratio mihi
probatur, simul atque natum sit animal, (hinc enim est ordiendum) ipsum sibi conciliari et commendari ad se conservandum,
DISSERTATION SECOND.
343
BUTLER.1
Butler, who was the son of a Presbyterian
trader, early gave such promise, as to induce his
father to fit him, by a proper education, for being
a minister of that persuasion. He was edu¬
cated at one of their seminaries under Mr Jones
of Gloucester, where Seeker, afterwards arch¬
bishop of Canterbury, was his fellow-student.
Though many of the dissenters had then begun
to relinquish Calvinism, the uniform effect of
that doctrine, in disposing its adherents to meta¬
physical speculation, long survived the opinions
which caused it, and cannot be doubted to have
influenced the mind of Butler. When a student
at the academy of Gloucester, he wrote private
letters to Dr Clarke on his celebrated Demonstra¬
tion, suggesting objections which were really in¬
superable, and which are marked by an acute¬
ness which neither himself nor any other ever
surpassed. Clarke, whose heart was as well
schooled as his head, published the letters, with
his own answers, in the next edition of his work;
and, by his good offices with his friend and
follower, Sir Joseph Jekyll, obtained for the
young philosopher an early opportunity of mak¬
ing his abilities and opinions known, by the ap¬
pointment of preacher at the Chapel of the
Master of the Rolls. He was afterwards raised
to one of the highest seats on the Episcopal
bench, through the philosophical taste of Queen
Caroline, and her influence over the mind of her
husband, which continued long after her death.
“ He was wafted,” says Horace Walpole, “ to
the see of Durham, on a cloud of Metaphy¬
sics.”2 Even in the fourteenth year of his
widowhood, George II. was desirous of inserting
the name of the Queen’s metaphysical favourite
in the Regency Bill of seventeen hundred and
fifty-one.
His great work on the Analogy of Religion to
the Course of Nature, though only a commentary
on the singularly original and pregnant passage
of Origen, which is so honestly prefixed to it as
a motto, is, notwithstanding, the most original
and profound work extant in any language on
the Philosophy of Religion. It is entirely beyond
our present scope. His ethical discussions are
contained in those deep and sometimes dark Dis¬
sertations which he preached at the Chapel of
the Rolls, and afterwards published under the
name of Sermons, while he was yet fresh from
the schools, and full of that courage with which
youth often delights to exercise its strength in
abstract reasoning, and to push its faculties into
the recesses of abstruse speculation. But his
youth was that of a sober and mature mind,
early taught by nature to discern the boundaries
of knowledge, and to abstain from fruitless ef¬
forts to reach inaccessible ground. In these
sermons,5 he has taught truths more capable of
being exactly distinguished from the doctrines
of his predecessors, more satisfactorily establish¬
ed by him, more comprehensively applied to par¬
ticulars, more rationally connected with each
other, and therefore more worthy of the name
of discovery, than any with which we are ac¬
quainted; if we ought not, with some hesita¬
tion, to except the first steps of the Grecian phi¬
losophers towards a Theory of Morals. It is a
peculiar hardship, that the extreme ambiguity of
language, an obstacle which it is one of the
chief merits of an ethical philosopher to vanquish,
is one of the circumstances which prevent men
et ad suum statum, et ad ea quae conservantia sunt ejus status diligenda; alienari autem ab interitu, iisque rebus quae in-
teritum videantur afferre. Id ita esse sic probant, quod, antequam voluptas aut dolor attigerit, salutaria appetant parvi,
asperneuturque contraria. Quod non fieret, nisi statum suum diligerent, interitum timerent. Fieri autem non posset ut ap-
peterent aliquid, nisi sensum haberent sui, eoque se et sua diligerent. Ex quo intelligi debet, trincipium ductum esse a
SE diligendi.” (De Finibus, lib. iii. cap. v.) We are told that diligendo is the reading of an ancient MS. Perhaps the
omission of ‘ a’ would be the easiest and most reasonable emendation.
The above passage is perhaps the fullest and plainest statement of the doctrines prevalent till the time of Butler.
1 Born in 1602 ; died in 1752.
2 Walpole’s Memoirs.
_3 See Sermons i. ii. and iii. On Human Nature; v. On Compassion ; viii. On Resentment; ix. On Forgiveness; xi. and
xii. On the Love of our Neighbour; and xiii. On the Love of God; together with the excellent Preface.
344
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
from seeing the justice of applying to him so
ambitious a term as discovery. Butler owed
more to Lord Shaftesbury than to all other wri¬
ters besides. He is just and generous towards
that philosopher; yet, whoever carefully com¬
pares their writings, will without difficulty dis¬
tinguish the two builders, and the larger as well
as more regular and laboured part of the edifice,
which is due to Butler.
Mankind have various principles of action;
some leading directly to the private good, some
immediately to the good of the community.
But the private desires are not self-love, or any
form of it; for self-love is the desire of a man’s
own happiness, whereas the object of an appe¬
tite or passion is some outward thing. Self-love
seeks things as means of happiness; the private
appetites seek things, not as means, hut as ends.
A man eats from hunger, and drinks from
thirst; and though he knows that these acts
are necessary to life, that knowledge is not the
motive of his conduct. No gratification can in¬
deed he imagined without a previous desire.
If all the particular desires did not exist inde¬
pendently, self-love would have no object to
employ itself about; for there would be no
happiness, which, by the very supposition of
the opponents, is made up of the gratifications
of various desires. No pursuit could be selfish
or interested, if there were not satisfactions first
gained by appetites which seek their own out¬
ward objects without regard to self; which sa¬
tisfactions compose the mass which is called a
man’s interest.
In contending, therefore, that the benevolent
affections are disinterested, no more is claimed
for them than must be granted to mere animal
appetites and to malevolent passions. Each of
these principles alike seeks its own object, for
the sake simply of obtaining it. Pleasure is
the result of the attainment, but no separate
part of the aim of the agent. The desire that
another person may be gratified, seeks that out¬
ward object alone, according to the general
course of human desire. Resentment is as dis¬
interested as gratitude or pity, but not more so.
Hunger or thirst may be, as much as the purest
benevolence, at variance with self-love. A re¬
gard to our own general happiness is not a vice,
but in itself an excellent quality. It were well
if it prevailed more generally over craving and
short-sighted appetites. The weakness of the
social affections, and the strength of the private
desires, properly constitute selfishness; a vice
utterly at variance with the happiness of him
who harbours it, and as such, condemned by
self-love. There are as few who attain the
greatest satisfaction to themselves, as who do
the greatest good to others. It is absurd to say
with some, that the pleasure of benevolence is
selfish because it is felt by self. Understand¬
ing and reasoning are acts of self, for no man
can think by proxy; but no one ever called
them selfish. Why ? Evidently because they
do not regard self. Precisely the same reason
applies to benevolence. Such an argument is a
gross confusion of self, as it is a subject of feel¬
ing or thought, with self considered as the object
of either. It is no more just to refer the private
appetites to self-love because they commonly
promote happiness, than it would be to refer
them to self-hatred in those frequent cases
where their gratification obstructs it.
But, besides the private or public desires, and
besides the calm regard to our own general wel¬
fare, there is a principle in man, in its nature
supreme over all others. This natural supre¬
macy belongs to the faculty which surveys, ap¬
proves, or disapproves the several affections of
our minds and actions of our lives. As self-
love is superior to the private passions, so con¬
science is superior to the whole of man. Pas¬
sion implies nothing but an inclination to follow
it; and in that respect passions differ only in
force. But no notion can be formed of the
principle of reflection, or conscience, which does
not comprehend judgment, direction, superin¬
tendency. Authority over all other principles
of action is a constituent part of the idea of con¬
science, and cannot be separated from it. Had
it strength as it has right, it would govern the
world. The passions would have their power
but according to their nature, which is to be
subject to conscience. Hence we may under¬
stand the purpose at which the ancients, perhaps
confusedly, aimed, when they laid it down,
that virtue consisted in following nature. It is
neither easy, nor, for the main object of the
DISSERTATION SECOND.
345
moralist, important, to render the doctrines of
the ancients by modern language. If Butler re¬
turns to this phrase too often, it was rather from
the remains of undistinguishing reverence for
antiquity, than because he could deem its em¬
ployment important to his own opinions.
The tie which holds together Religion and
Morality, is, in the system of Butler, somewhat
different from the common representations, but
not less close. Conscience, or the faculty of ap¬
proving or disapproving, necessarily constitutes
the bond of union. Setting out from the belief
of Theism, and combining it, as he had entitled
himself to do, with the reality of conscience, he
could not avoid discovering, that the being who
possessed the highest moral qualities, is the ob¬
ject of the highest moral affections. He con¬
templates the Deity through the moral nature
of man. In the case of a being who is to be
perfectly loved, “ goodness must be the simple
actuating principle within him; this being the
moral quality which is the immediate object of
love.” “ The highest, the adequate object of
this affection, is perfect goodness; which, there¬
fore, we are to love with all our heart, with all
our soul, and with all our strength.” “We
should refer ourselves implicitly to him, and
cast ourselves entirely upon him. The whole at¬
tention of life should be to obey his commands.”1
Moral distinctions are thus presupposed before
a step can be made towards religion: virtue
leads to piety; God is to be loved, because good¬
ness is the object of love; and it is only after
the mind rises through human morality to di¬
vine perfection, that all the virtues and duties
are seen to hang from the throne of God.
REMARKS.
There do not appear to be any errors in the
ethical principles of Butler. The following
remarks are intended to point out some defects
in his scheme; and even that attempt is made
with the unfeigned humility of one who rejoices
in an opportunity of doing justice to that part of
the writings of a great philosopher which has
not been so clearly understood, nor so justly
estimated by the generality, as his other works.
1. It is a considerable defect, though perhaps
unavoidable in a sermon, that he omits all in¬
quiry into the nature and origin of the private
appetites, which first appear in human nature.
It is implied, but it is not expressed in his rea¬
sonings, that there is a time before the child can
be called selfish, any more than social, when
these appetites seem as it were separately to
pursue their distinct objects, long antecedent to
the state of mind in which all their gratifica¬
tions are regarded as forming the mass called
happiness. It is hence that they are likened to
instincts, in contradiction to their subsequent
distinction, which requires reason and experi¬
ence. 2
2. Butler shows admirably well, that unless
there were principles of action independent of
self, there could be no pleasures and no happi¬
ness for self-love to watch over. A step farther
would have led him to perceive, that self-love is
altogether a secondary formation; the result of
the joint operation of reason and habit upon the
primary principles. It could not have existed
without presupposing original appetites and or¬
ganic gratifications. Had he considered this
part of the subject, he would have strengthened
his case by showing that self-love is as truly a
derived principle, not only as any of the social
affections, but as any of the most confessedly ac¬
quired passions. It would appear clear, that as
self-love is not divested of its self-regarding
character by considering it as acquired, so the
social affections do not lose any part of their dis¬
interested character, if they be considered as
formed from simpler elements. Nothing would
more tend to root out the old prejudice which
treats a regard to self as analogous to a self-evi¬
dent principle, than the proof, that self-love is
itself formed from certain original elements, and
that a living being long subsists before its ap¬
pearance. 3
1 Sermon xiii. On the Love of God. v.tjioae
2 The very able work ascribed to Mr Hazlitt, entitled Essay on the Principles of Human Action, Lond. 1805, contains
original views on this subject. _ „ ... ..
3 Compare this statement with the Stoical doctrine explained by Cicero in the book de Finibus, quoted above, ot wtuc
is the direct opposite.
DISS. II. 2 X
34G
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
3. It must be owned that those parts of Butler’s
discourses which relate to the social affections
are more satisfactory than those which handle
the question concerning1 the moral sentiments.
It is not that the real existence of the latter is
not as well made out as that of the former. In
both cases he occupies the unassailable ground
of an appeal to consciousness. All men (even
the worst) feel that they have a conscience and
disinterested affections. But he betrays a sense
of the greater vagueness of his notions on this
subject. He falters as he approaches it. He
makes no attempt to determine in what state of
mind the action of conscience consists. He does
not venture steadily to denote it by a name. He
fluctuates between different appellations, and
multiplies the metaphors of authority and com¬
mand, without a simple exposition of that mental
operation which these metaphors should only
have illustrated. It commands other principles.
But the question recurs, why, or how ?
Some of his own hints, and some fainter inti¬
mations of Shaftesbury5 might have led him to
what appears to be the true solution; which,
perhaps from its extreme simplicity, has escaped
him and his successors. The truth seems to he,
that the moral sentiments in their mature state,
are a class of feelings which have no other object but
the mental dispositions leading to voluntary action,
and the voluntary actions which flow from these dis¬
positions. We are pleased with some disposi¬
tion's and actions, and displeased with others, in
ourselves and our fellows. We desire to culti¬
vate the dispositions, and to perform the actions,
which we contemplate with satisfaction. These
objects, like all those of human appetite or de¬
sire, are sought for their own sake. The peculi¬
arity of these desires is, that their gratification
requires the use of no means. Nothing (unless it
he a volition) is interposed between the desire
and the voluntary act. It is impossible, therefore,
that these passions should undergo any change
by transfer from the end to the means, as is the
case with other practical principles. On the other
hand, as soon as they are fixed on these ends,
they cannot regard any further object. When
another passion prevails over them, the end of
the moral faculty is converted into a means of
gratification. But volitions and actions are not
themselves the end, or last object in view, of any
other desire or aversion. Nothing stands between
the moral sentiments and their object. They
are, as it were, in contact with the will. It is
this sort of mental position, if the expression may
he pardoned, that explains, or seems to explain
those characteristic properties which true philo¬
sophers ascribe to them, and which all reflecting
men feel to belong to them. Being the only de¬
sires, aversions, sentiments, or emotions, which
regard dispositions and actions, they neces¬
sarily extend to the whole character and conduct.
Among motives to action, they alone are just¬
ly considered as universal. They may and do
stand between any other practical principle
and its object; while it is absolutely impos¬
sible that another shall intercept their con¬
nection with the will. Be it observed, that
though many passions prevail over them, no
other can act beyond its own appointed and li¬
mited sphere; and that the prevalence itself,
leaving the natural order undisturbed in any
other part of the mind, is perceived to he a dis¬
order, when seen in another man, and felt to he
so by the mind disordered, when the disorder
subsides. Conscience may forbid the will to
contribute to the gratification of a desire. No
desire ever forbids will to obey conscience.
This result of the peculiar relation of con¬
science to the will, justifies those metaphorical
expressions which ascribe to it authority and the
right of universal command. It is immutable; for,
by the law which regulates all feelings, it must
rest on action, which is its object, and beyond
which it cannot look; and as it employs no
means, it never can he transferred to nearer ob¬
jects, in the way in which he who first desires
an object as a means of gratification, may come
to seek it as his end. Another remarkable pecu¬
liarity is bestowed on the moral feelings by the
nature of their object. As the objects of all
other desires are outward, the satisfaction of
them may he frustrated by outward causes.
The moral sentiments may always he gratified,
because voluntary actions and moral dispositions
spring from within. No external circumstance
affects them. Hence their independence. As
the moral sentiment needs no means, and the de¬
sire is instantaneously followed by the volition,
DISSERTATION SECOND.
347
it seems to be either that which first suggests
the relation between command and obedience, or
at least that which affords the simplest instance
of it. It is therefore with the most rigorous
precision that authority and universality are
ascribed to them. Their only unfortunate pro¬
perty is their too frequent weakness; hut it
is apparent that it is from that circumstance
alone that their failure arises. Thus considered,
the language of Butler concerning conscience,
that, “ had it strength as it has right it would
govern the world,” which may seem to he only
an effusion of generous feeling, proves to he a
just statement of the nature and action of the
highest of human faculties. The union of uni¬
versality, immutability, and independence, with
direct action on the will, which distinguishes
the moral sense from every other part of our
practical nature, renders it scarcely metaphori¬
cal language to ascribe to it unbounded sove¬
reignty and awful authority over the whole of
the world within;—shows that attributes, well
denoted by terms significant of command and
control, are, in fact, inseparable from it, or ra¬
ther constitute its very essence;—justifies those
ancient moralists who represent it as alone se¬
curing, if not forming the moral liberty of man ;
and finally, when religion rises from its roots in
virtuous feeling, it clothes conscience with the
sublime character of representing the divine pu¬
rity and majesty in the human soul. Its title
is not impaired by any number of defeats; for
every defeat necessarily disposes the disinterest¬
ed and dispassionate by-stander to wish that its
force were strengthened: and though it may be
doubted whether, consistently with the present
constitution of human nature, it could be so in¬
vigorated as to be the only motive to action,
yet every such by-stander rejoices at all acces¬
sions to its force; and would own, that man be¬
comes happier, more excellent, more estimable,
more venerable, in proportion as conscience ac¬
quires a power of banishing malevolent passions,
of strongly curbing all the private appetites, of
influencing and guiding the benevolent affections
themselves.
Let it be carefully considered whether the
same observations could be made with truth,
or with plausibility, on any other part or cle¬
ment of the nature of man. They are entirely
independent of the question, whether conscience
be an inherent or an acquired principle. If it
be inherent, that circumstance is, according to
the common modes of thinking, a sufficient
proof of its title to veneration. But if pro¬
vision be made in the constitution and circum¬
stances of all men, for uniformly producing it,
by processes similar to those which produce
other acquired sentiments, may not our rever¬
ence be augmented by admiration of that su¬
preme wisdom which, in such mental contri¬
vances, yet more brightly than in the lower
world of matter, accomplishes mighty purposes
by instruments so simple ? Should these specu¬
lations be thought to have any solidity by those
who are accustomed to such subjects, it would
be easy to unfold and apply them so fully, that
they may be thoroughly apprehended by every
intelligent person.
4. The most palpable defect of Butler’s scheme
is, that it affords no answer to the question,
“ What is the distinguishing quality common to
all right actions ?” If it were answered, “ Their
criterion is, that they are approved and com¬
manded by conscience,” the answerer would
find that he was involved in a vicious circle;
for conscience itself could be no otherwise de¬
fined than as the faculty which approves and
commands right actions.
There are few circumstances more remarkable
than the small number of Butler’s followers in
Ethics; and it is perhaps still more observable,
that his opinions were not so much rejected as
overlooked. It is an instance of the importance
of style. No thinker so great was ever so bad
a writer. Indeed, the ingenious apologies which
have been lately attempted fortius defect, amount
to no more than that his power of thought was
too much for his skill in language. How gene¬
ral must the reception have been of truths so cer¬
tain and momentous as those contained in But¬
ler’s Discourses,—with how much more clear¬
ness must they have appeared to his own great
understanding, if he had possessed the strength
and distinctness with which Hobbes enforces
odious falsehood, or the unspeakable charm of
that transparent diction which clothed the un¬
fruitful paradoxes of Berkeley !
348
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
HUTCHESON.1
This ingenious writer began to try bis own
strength by private Letters, written in his early
youth to Dr Clarke, the metaphysical patriarch
of his time; on whom young philosophers seem to
have considered themselves as possessing a claim,
which he had too much goodness to reject. His
correspondence with Hutcheson is lost; but we
may judge of its spirit by his answers to Butler,
and by one to Mr Henry Home,2 afterwards
Lord Kames, then a young adventurer in the
prevalent speculations. Nearly at the same
period with Butler’s first publication,3 the writ¬
ings of Hutcheson began to show coincidences
with him, indicative of the tendency of moral
theory to a new form, to which an impulse had
been given by Shaftesbury, and which was roused
to activity by the adverse system of Clarke. Lord
Molesworth, the friend of Shaftesbury, patron¬
ised Hutcheson, and even criticised his manu¬
script. Though a Presbyterian, he was be¬
friended by King, archbishop of Dublin, him¬
self a metaphysician ; and he was aided by Mr
Synge, afterwards a bishop, to whom specula¬
tions somewhat similar to his own had occurred.
Butler and Hutcheson coincided in the two
important positions, that disinterested affections,
and a distinct moral faculty, are essential parts
of human nature. Hutcheson is a chaste and
simple writer, who imbibed the opinions, with¬
out the literary faults of his master, Shaftesbury.
He has a clearness of expression, and fulness of
illustration, which are wanting in Butler. But
he is inferior to both these writers in the
appearance at least of originality, and to Butler
especially in that philosophical courage which,
when it discovers the fountains of truth and
falsehood, leaves others to follow the streams.
He states as strongly as Butler, that “ the same
cause which determines us to pursue happiness
for ourselves, determines us both to esteem and
benevolence on their proper occasions—even
the very frame of our nature.”4 It is vain, as
he justly observes, for the patrons of a refined
selfishness to pretend that we pursue the happi¬
ness of others for the sake of the pleasure which
we derive from it; since it is apparent that there
could be no such pleasure if there had been no
previous affection. “ Had we no affection dis¬
tinct from self-love, nothing could raise a desire
of the happiness of others, but when viewed as
a mean of our own.”3 He seems to have been
the first who entertained just notions of the
formation of the secondary desires, which had
been overlooked by Butler. “ There must arise,
in consequence of our original desires, secondary
desires of every thing useful to gratify the pri¬
mary desire. Thus, as soon as we apprehend the
use of wealth or power to gratify our original de¬
sires, we also desire them. From their univer¬
sality as means arises the general prevalence of
these desires of wealth and power.”6 Proceed¬
ing farther in his zeal against the selfish system
than Lord Shaftesbury, who seems ultimately to
rest the reasonableness of benevolence on its
subserviency to the happiness of the individual,
he represents the moral faculty to be, as well as
self-love and benevolence, a calm general im¬
pulse, which may and does impel a good man to
sacrifice not only happiness, but even life itself,
to virtue.
As Mr Locke had spoken of an internal
sensation,—Lord Shaftesbury once or twice of
a reflex sense, and once of a moral sense,—
Hutcheson, who had a steadier, if not a clear¬
er view of the nature of conscience than But¬
ler, calls it a Moral Sense; a name which
quickly became popular, and continues to be
a part of philosophical language. By sense,
he understood a capacity of receiving ideas, to¬
gether with pleasures and pains, from a class of
1 Born in Ireland in 1694; died at Glasgow in 1747*
8 Woodhouselee’s Life of Lord Kames, vol. I. Append. No. 3.
* The first edition of Butler’s Sermons was published in 1726, in which year also appeared the second edition of Hutche¬
son’s Inquiry into Beauty and Virtue. The Sermons had been preached some years before, though there is no likelihood that
the contents could have reached a young teacher at Dublin. The place of Hutcheson’s birth is not mentioned in any ac¬
count known to me. Ireland may be truly said to be “ incuriosa suorum.'"
4 Inquiry, p. 152. s Essay on the Passions, p. 17. * Ibid. p. 8.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
349
objects. The term rmral was used to describe
the particular class in question. It implied
only that conscience was a separate element in
our nature, and that it was not a state or act of
the understanding. According to him, it also
implied that it was an original and implanted
principle; but every other part of his theory
might be embraced by those who hold it to be
derivative.
The object of moral approbation, according
to him, is general benevolence ; and he carries
this generous error so far as to deny that pru¬
dence, as long as it regards ourselves, can be
morally approved;—an assertion contradicted by
every man’s feelings, and to which we owe the
Dissertation on the Nature of Virtue which But¬
ler annexed to his Analogy. By proving that all
virtuous actions produce general good, he fancied
that he had proved the necessity of regarding
the general good in every act of virtue ;—an in¬
stance of that confusion of the theory of moral
sentiments with the criterion of moral actions,
against which the reader was warned at the open¬
ing of this Dissertation, as fatal to Ethical Philo¬
sophy. He is chargeable, like Butler, with a
vicious circle, in describing virtuous acts as those
which are approved by the moral sense, while he
at the same time describes the moral sense as the
faculty which perceives and feels the morality
of actions.
He was the father of speculative philosophy in
Scotland, at least in modern times; for though
in the beginning of the sixteenth century the
Scotch are said to have been known through¬
out Europe by their unmeasured passion for
dialectical subtilties,1 and though this metaphy¬
sical taste was nourished by the controversies
which followed the Reformation, yet it languish¬
ed, with every other intellectual taste and talent,
from the Restoration, first silenced by civil dis
orders, and afterwards repressed by an exem¬
plary but unlettered clergy, till the philosophy
of Shaftesbury was brought by Hutcheson from
Ireland. We are told by the writer of his Life,
(a fine piece of philosophical biography) that44 he
had a remarkable degree of rational enthusiasm
for learning, liberty, religion, virtue, and human
happiness;”2 that he taught in public with per¬
suasive eloquence; that his instructive conversa¬
tion was at once lively and modest; that he unit¬
ed pure manners with a kind disposition. What
wonder that such a man should have spread the
love of knowledge and virtue around him, and
should have rekindled in his adopted country a
relish for the sciences which he cultivated ! To
him may also be ascribed that proneness to mul¬
tiply ultimate and original principles in human
nature, which characterized the Scottish School
till the second extinction of a passion for meta¬
physical speculation in Scotland. A careful
perusal of the writings of this now little studied
philosopher will satisfy the well-qualified reader,
that Dr Adam Smith’s ethical speculations are
not so unsuggested as they are beautiful.
BERKELEY.4
This great metaphysician was so little a mo- as a touchstone of metaphysical sagacity ; show-
ralist, that it requires the attraction of his name ing those to be altogether without it, who, like
to excuse its introduction here. His Theory of Johnson and Beattie, believed that his specula-
Vision contains a great discovery in mental phi- tions were sceptical, that they implied any dis-
losophy. His immaterialism is chiefly valuable trust in the senses, or that they had the smallest
1 The character given of the Scotch by the famous and unfortunate Servetus, in his edition of Ptolemy, (1533) is in
many respects curious. “ Gallis amicissimi, Anglorumque regi maxime infesti. Subita ingenia, et in ultionem prona, ieio-
ciaque. In bello fortes, inedise, vigilue, algoris patientissimi, decenti torma sed cultu neghgention, invidi natura et
caeterorum mortalium contemptores; ostentant phis nimio nobilitatem suam, et in summa etiam egestate mum genus ad regiam
stirpem re/erunt, nec non dialecticis argutiis sibi blandiuntur.”—Subita ingenm is an expression equivalent to the
“ Praefervidum Scotorum ingenium” of Buchanan. Churchill almost agrees in words with Servetus:
Whose lineage springs
From great and glorious, though forgotten kings. , .
And the strong antipathy of the late King George III. to what he called “ Scotch Metaphysics, proves the permanency
of the last part of the national character.
2 Life by Dr Leechman, prefixed to Hutcheson’s System of Moral Philosophy, lyoo.
' Born near Thomastown in Ireland, in 1684 ; died at Oxford in 1753.
350
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
tendency to disturb reasoning or alter conduct.
Ancient learning, exact science, polished socie¬
ty, modern literature, and the fine arts, contrib¬
uted to adorn and enrich the mind of this ac¬
complished man. All his contemporaries agreed
with the satirist in ascribing
To Berkeley every virtue under heaven.
Adverse factions and hostile wits concurred
only in loving, admiring, and contributing to
advance him. The severe sense of Swift endur¬
ed his visions; the modest Addison endeavour¬
ed to reconcile Clarke to his ambitious specula¬
tions. His character converted the satire of
Pope into fervid praise. Even the discerning,
fastidious, and turbulent Atterbury said, after
an interview with him, “ So much understand¬
ing, so much knowledge, so much innocence,
and such humility, I did not think had been the
portion of any but angels, till I saw this gentle¬
man.”1 “ Lord Bathurst told me, that the
Members of the Scriblerus Club being met at
his house at dinner, they agreed to rally Berke¬
ley, who was also his guest, on his scheme at
Bermudas. Berkeley, having listened to the
many lively things they had to say, begged to
be heard in his turn, and displayed his plan
with such an astonishing and animating force of
eloquence and enthusiasm, that they were struck
dumb, and after some pause, rose all up together,
with earnestness exclaiming, c Let us set out
with him immediately.’”2 It was when thus
beloved and celebrated that he conceived, at the
age of forty-five, the design of devoting his life
to reclaim and convert the natives of North
America; and he employed as much influence
and solicitation as common men do for their
most prized objects, in obtaining leave to resign
his dignities and revenues, to quit his accom¬
plished and affectionate friends, and to bury
himself in what must have seemed an intellec¬
tual desert. After four years’ residence at New¬
port in Rhode Island, he was compelled, by the
refusal of Government to furnish him with
funds for his College, to forego his work of he¬
roic, or rather godlike benevolence; though not
without some consoling forethought of the for¬
tune of the country where he had sojourned.
Westward the course of empire takes its way,
The first four acts already past,
A fifth shall close the drama with the day,
Time’s noblest offspring is its last.
Thus disappointed in his ambition of keeping a
School for Savage children, at a salary of a hun¬
dred pounds by the year, he was received, on
his return, with open arms by the philosophical
queen, at whose metaphysical parties he made
one with Sherlock, who, as well as Smalridge,
was his supporter, and with Hoadley, who, fol¬
lowing Clarke, was his antagonist. By her in¬
fluence, he was made bishop of Cloyne. It is
one of his highest boasts, that though of Eng¬
lish extraction, he was a true Irishman, and
the first eminent Protestant, after the unhappy
contest at the Revolution, who avowed his love
for all his countrymen. He asked, “ Whether
their habitations and furniture were not more
sordid than those of the savage Americans?”*
“ Whether a scheme for the welfare of this nation
should not take in the whole inhabitants ?” and,
<c Whether it was a vain attempt, to project the
flourishing of our Protestant gentry, exclusive of
the bulk of the natives ?”4 He proceeds to pro¬
mote the reformation suggested in this pregnant
question by a series of Queries, intimating, with
the utmost skill and address, every reason that
proves the necessity, and the safety, and the
wisest mode of adopting his suggestion. He
contributed, by a truly Christian address to the
Roman Catholics of his diocese, to their perfect
quiet during the rebellion of 1745; and soon
after published a letter to the clergy of that per¬
suasion, beseeching them to inculcate indus¬
try among their flocks, for which he received
their thanks. He tells them, that it was a say¬
ing among the negro slaves, “ if negro were not
negro, Irishman would be negro.” It is difficult
to read these proofs of benevolence and fore¬
sight without emotion, at the moment when,4
after a lapse of near a century, his suggestions
have been at length, at the close of a struggle
of twenty-five years, adopted, by the admis-
1 Buncombe’s Letters, 106, 107.
2 Warton on Pope.
3 See his Querist, 3J>8 ; published in 1735.
* Ibid. 255. 3 April 1829.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
351
eion of the whole Irish nation to the privileges
of the British Constitution. The patriotism of
Berkeley was not, like that of Swift, tainted
by disappointed ambition; nor was it, like
Swift’s, confined to a colony of English Pro¬
testants. Perhaps the Querist contains more
hints, then original, still unapplied in legislation
and political economy, than are to be found
in any equal space. From the writings of his
advanced years, when he chose a medical Tract1
to be the vehicle of his philosophical reflections,
though it cannot be said that he relinquished
his early opinions, it is at least apparent that
his mind had received a new bent, and was
habitually turned from reasoning towards con¬
templation. His immaterialism indeed modest¬
ly appears, but only to purify and elevate our
thoughts, and to fix them on Mind, the para¬
mount and primeval principle of all things.
“ Perhaps,” says he, “ the truth about innate
ideas may be, that there are properly no ideas
or passive objects in the mind but what are de¬
rived from sense, but that there are also, be¬
sides these, her own acts and operations—such
are notionsa statement which seems once
more to admit general conceptions^ and which
might have served, as well as the parallel pass¬
age of Leibnitz, as the basis of the modern phi¬
losophy of Germany. From these compositions
of his old age, he appears then to have recurred
with fondness to Plato and the later Platonists;
writers from whose mere reasonings an intellect
so acute could hardly hope for an argumentative
satisfaction of all its difficulties, and whom he
probably rather studied as a means of inuring
his mind to objects beyond the visible diurnal
sphere, and of attaching it, through frequent
meditation, to that perfect and transcendent
goodness to which his moral feelings always
pointed, and which they incessantly strove to
grasp. His mind, enlarging as it rose, at length
receives every theist, however imperfect his be¬
lief, to a communion in its philosophic piety.
“ Truth,” he beautifully concludes, “ is the cry
of all, but the game of a few. Certainly, where
it is the chief passion, it does not give way to
vulgar cares, nor is it contented with a little
ardour in the early time of life; active perhaps
to pursue, but not so fit to weigh and revise.
He that would make a real progress in know¬
ledge, must dedicate his age as well as youth,
the later growth as well as first fruits, at the
altar of Truth.” So did Berkeley, and such were
almost his latest words.
His general principles of Ethics may be shortly
stated in his own words :—“ As God is a being
of infinite goodness, his end is the good of his
creatures. The general wellbeing of all men of
all nations, of all ages of the world, is that which
he designs should be procured by the concur¬
ring actions of each individual.” Having stated
that this end can be pursued only in one of two
ways—either by computing the consequences of
each action, or by obeying rules which generally
tend to happiness—and having shown the first
to be impossible, he rightly infers, “ that the
end to which God requires the concurrence of
human actions, must be carried on by the ob¬
servation of certain determinate and universal
rules or moral precepts, which in their own na¬
ture have a necessary tendency to promote the
wellbeing of mankind, taking in all nations and
ages, from the beginning to the end of the
world.”* A romance, of which a journey to
an Utopia, in the centre of Africa, forms the
chief part, called The Adventures of Signor Gau-
dentio di Lucca, has been commonly ascribed to
him; probably on no other ground than its union
of pleasing invention with benevolence and ele¬
gance.5 Of the exquisite grace and beauty of
his diction, no man accustomed to English com¬
position can need to be informed. His works
are, beyond dispute, the finest models of phi¬
losophical style since Cicero. Perhaps they
surpass those of the orator, in the wonderful
art by which the fullest light is thrown on
the most minute and evanescent parts of the
most subtile of human conceptions. Perhaps
he also surpassed Cicero in the charm of sim¬
plicity, a quality eminently found in Irish wri¬
ters before the end of the eighteenth century;
conspicuous in the masculine severity of Swift,
1 Sir is, or Reflections (in Tar Water.
3 Sermon in Trinity Colley, e Chapel, on Passive Obedience, 1712.
* Gentleman’s Magazine, January 1777*
352
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
in the Platonic fancy of Berkeley, in the native
tenderness and elegance of Goldsmith, and not
withholding its attractions from Hutcheson and
Leland, writers of classical taste, though of
inferior power. The two Irish philosophers
of the eighteenth century may he said to have
co-operated in calling forth the metaphysical
genius of Scotland; for, though Hutcheson
spread the taste, and furnished the principles,
yet Berkeley undoubtedly produced the scep¬
ticism of Hume, which stimulated the instinc¬
tive school to activity, and was thought incap¬
able of confutation, otherwise than by their
doctrines.
DAVID HUME.1
The Life of Mr Hume, written by himself, is
remarkable above most, if not all writings of that
sort, for hitting the degree of interest between
coldness and egotism which becomes a modest
man in speaking of his private history. Few
writers, whose opinions were so obnoxious, have
more perfectly escaped every personal imputa¬
tion. Very few men of so calm a character have
been so warmly beloved. That he approached
to the character of a perfectly good and wise
man, is an affectionate exaggeration, for which
his friend Dr Smith, in the first moments of
his sorrow, may well be excused.2 But such a
praise can never be earned without passing
through either of the extremes of fortune; with¬
out standing the test of temptations, dangers,
and sacrifices. It may be said with truth, that
the private character of Mr Hume exhibited all
the virtues which a man of reputable station,
under a mild government, in the quiet times of
a civilized country, has often the opportunity to
practise. He showed no want of the qualities
which fit men for more severe trials. Though
others had warmer affections, no man was a
kinder relation, a more unwearied friend, or
more free from meanness and malice. His cha¬
racter was so simple, that he did not even affect
modesty; but neither his friendships nor his de¬
portment were changed by a fame which filled
all Europe. His good nature, his plain manners,
and his active kindness, procured him at Paris
the enviable name of the good David, from a
society not so alive to goodness, as without
reason to place it at the head of the qualities of
a celebrated man.s His whole character is faith¬
fully and touchingly represented in the story of
La Roche,4 where Mr Mackenzie, without con*
ce.aling Mr Hume’s opinions, brings him into
contact with scenes of tender piety, and yet pre¬
serves the interest inspired by genuine and un¬
alloyed, though moderated feelings and affec¬
tions. The amiable and venerable patriarch of
Scottish Literature was averse from the opinions
of the philosopher on whom he has composed
this best panegyric. He tells us that he read the
manuscript to Dr Smith, “ who declared he did
not find a syllable to object to, but added, with
his characteristic absence of mind, that he was
surprised he had never heard of the anecdote be¬
fore.” s So lively was the delineation thus sanc¬
tioned by the most natural of all testimonies.
Mr Mackenzie indulges his own religious feel¬
ings by modestly intimating, that Dr Smith’s
answer seemed to justify the last words of the
tale, <c that there were moments when the phi¬
losopher recalled to his mind the venerable fi¬
gure of the good La Roche, and wished that he
had never doubted.” To those who are strangers
to the seductions of paradox, to the intoxication
of fame, and to the bewitchment of prohibited
opinions, it must be unaccountable, that he who
revered benevolence should, without apparent
regret, cease to see it on the Throne of the Uni¬
verse. It is a matter of wonder that his habitual
esteem for every fragment and shadow of moral
excellence should not lead him to envy those
who contemplated its perfection in that living
and paternal character which gives it a power
over the human heart.
On the other hand, if we had no experience
1 Born at Edinburgh in 1711; died there in 1776.
2 Dr Smith’s Letter to Mr Strahan. annexed to the Life of Hume.
3 See Notes and Illustrations, note P.
4 Mirror, Nos. 42, 43, 44.
* Mackenzie’s Life of John Home, p. 21.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
353
of the power of opposite opinions in producing
irreconcilable animosities, we might have hoped
that those who retained such high privileges
would have looked with more compassion than
dislike on a virtuous man who had lost them.
In such cases it is too little remembered, that
repugnance to hypocrisy, and impatience of
long concealment, are the qualities of the best
formed minds; and that, if the publication of
some doctrines proves often painful and mis¬
chievous, the habitual suppression of opinion is
injurious to reason, and very dangerous to sin¬
cerity. Practical questions thus arise, so diffi¬
cult and perplexing, that their determination
generally depends on the boldness or timidity of
the individual,—on his tenderness for the feel¬
ings of the good, or his greater reverence for the
free exercise of reason. The time is not yet
come when the noble maxim of Plato, <£ that
every soul is unwillingly deprived of truth,” will
be practically and heartily applied by men to
the honest opponents who differ from them most
widely.
In his twenty-seventh year he published at
London the Treatise of Human Nature, the first
systematic attack on all the principles of know¬
ledge and belief, and the most formidable, if
universal scepticism could ever be more than a
mere exercise of ingenuity.1 This memorable
work was reviewed in a Journal of that time,2
in a criticism not distinguished by ability, which
affects to represent the style of a very clear
writer as unintelligible—sometimes from a pur¬
pose to insult, but oftener from sheer dulness—
which is unaccountably silent respecting the
consequences of a sceptical system; and which
concludes with a prophecy so much at variance
with the general tone of the article, that it
would seem to he added by a different hand.
££ It bears incontestable marks of a great capa¬
city, of a soaring genius, but young, and hot
yet thoroughly practised. Time and use may
ripen these qualities in the author, and we shall
probably have reason to consider this, com¬
pared with his later productions, in the same
light as we view the juvenile works of Milton,
or the first manner of Raphael.”
The great speculator did not, in this work,
amuse himself, like Bayle, with dialectical ex¬
ercises, which only inspire a disposition towards
doubt, by showing in detail the uncertainty of
most opinions. He aimed at proving, not that
nothing was known, but that nothing could
be known;—from the structure of the under¬
standing to demonstrate, that avc are doomed
for ever to dwell in absolute and universal ig¬
norance. It is true that such a system of uni¬
versal scepticism never can be more than an in¬
tellectual amusement, an exercise of subtilty;
of which the only use is to check dogmatism,
but which perhaps oftener provokes and pro¬
duces that much more common cauI. As those
dictates of experience A\rhich regulate conduct
must he the objects of belief, all objections
which attack them in common with the prin¬
ciples of reasoning must be utterly ineffectual.
Whatever attacks every principle of belief can
destroy none. As long as the foundations of
knoAvledge are alloAved to remain on the same
level (be it called of certainty or uncertainty) with
the maxims of life, the whole system of human
conviction must continue undisturbed. When
the sceptic boasts of haAung involved the results
of experience and the elements of geometry in
the same ruin with the doctrines of religion and
the principles of philosophy, he may he answered,
That no dogmatist ever claimed more than the
same degree of certainty for these various con¬
victions and opinions; and that his scepticism,
therefore, leaves them in the relative condition
in which it found them. No man knew better,
or owned more frankly than Mr Hume, that to
1 Sextus, a physician of the empirical, i. e. anti-theoretical school, who lived at Alexandria in the reign of A to
Pius, has preserved the reasonings of the ancient Sceptics as they were to be found in their most improved state,
writings of /Enesidemus, a Cretan, who was a Professor in the same city, soon after the reduction of Egypt int.°^ , ™
province. The greater part of the grounds of doubt are very shallow and popular. Ihere are, among them, intima 10
of the argument against a necessary connection of causes with effects, afterwards better presentee by anvi t i f
Scientifica. See Notes and Illustrations, note Q. „ • -r. • • .... w oma
2 History of the Works of the Learned, November and December 1739, p. 353-404. This Review is attributed by some
(Chalmers, Biographical Dictionary) to YVarburton, but certainly without foundation.
DISS. II. ^ Y
354
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
this answer there is no serious reply. Univer¬
sal scepticism involves a contradiction in terms.
It is a belief that there can be no belief. It is an
attempt of the mind to act without its structure,
and by other laws than those to which its nature
has subjected its operations. To reason without
assenting to the principles on which reasoning is
founded, is not unlike an effort to feel without
nerves, or to move without muscles. No man
can be allowed to be an opponent in reasoning^ who
does not set out with admitting all the principles,
without the admission of which it is impossible to
reason.1 It is indeed a puerile, nay, in the eye
of wisdom, a childish play, to attempt either to
establish or to confute principles by argument,
which every step of that argument must pre¬
suppose. The only difference between the two
cases is, 'that he who tries to prove them can
do so only by first taking them for granted; and
that he who attempts to impugn them falls at
the very first step into a contradiction, from
which he never can rise.
It must, however, be allowed, that universal
scepticism has practical consequences of a very
mischievous nature. This is because its univer¬
sality is not steadily kept in view, and con¬
stantly borne in mind. If it were, the above
short and plain remark would be an effectual
antidote to the poison. But in practice, it is
an armoury from which weapons are taken
to be employed against some opinions, while
it is hidden from notice that the same weapon
would equally cut down every other conviction.
It is thus that Mr Hume’s theory of causation is
used as an answer to arguments for the exist¬
ence of the Deity, without warning the reader
that it would equally lead him not to expect
that the sun will rise to-morrow. It must also
be added, that those who are early accustomed
to dispute first principles are never likely to
acquire, in a sufficient degree, that earnestness
and that sincerity, that strong love of truth, and
that conscientious solicitude for the formation of
just opinions, which are not the least virtues
pf men, but of which the cultivation is the more
especial duty of all who call themselves philo¬
sophers. 2
It is not an uninteresting fact, that Mr Hume
having been introduced by Lord Karnes (then
Mr Henry Home) to Dr Butler, sent a copy of
Ids Treatise to that philosopher at the moment
of his preferment to the bishopric of Durham ;
and that the perusal of it did not deter the
philosophic prelate from t£ everywhere recom¬
mending Mr Hume’s Moral and Political Es¬
says,”3 published two years afterwards;—Essays
which it would indeed have been unworthy of
such a man not to have liberally commended,
for they, and those which followed them, what¬
ever may be thought of the contents of some of
them, must be ever regarded as th6 best models
in any language, of the short but full, of the
clear and agreeable, though deep discussion of
difficult questions.
Mr Hume considered his Enquiry concerning
the Principles of Morals as the best of his wri¬
tings. It is very creditable to his character,
that he should have looked back with most
complacency on a Tract the least distinguished
by originality, and the least tainted with para¬
dox, among his philosophical works; but deserv¬
ing of all commendation for the elegant perspi¬
cuity of the style, and the novelty of illustration
and inference with which he unfolded to general
readers a doctrine too simple, too certain, and
too important, to remain till his time undis¬
covered among philosophers. His diction has,
indeed, neither the grace of Berkeley nor the
strength of Hobbes; but it is without the verbo¬
sity of the former, or the rugged sternness of
the latter. His manner is more lively, more
easy, more ingratiating, and, if the word may
1 This maxim, which contains a sufficient answer to all universal scepticism, or, in other words, to all scepticism properly
so called, is significantly conveyed in the quaint title of an old and rare book, entitled, Scivi, sive Sceptices ct Sceptworum a
Jure Disputationis Exclusio, by Thomas White, the metaphysician of the English Catholics in modern times—“Fortu¬
nately,” says the illustrious sceptic himself, “ since Reason is incapable of dispelling these clouds. Nature herself suffices for that
purpose, mid cures me of this philosophical delirium" (Treatise of Human Nature, I. 467) ; almost in the sublime and immor¬
tal words of Pascal: La Raison confond les Dogmatistes, et la Nature les Sceptiques.
2 It would be an act of injustice to those readers who are not acquainted with that valuable volume entitled, Essays
on the Formation of Opinions, not to refer them to it as enforcing that neglected part of morality. To it may be added, a
masterly article in the Westminster Review, occasioned by the Essays.
3 Woodhouselee’s Life of Karnes, I. 86, 104.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
355
be so applied, more amusing, than that of any
other metaphysical writer.1 He knew himself
too well to he, as Dr Johnson asserted, an imi¬
tator of Voltaire; who, as it were, embodied il
his own person all the wit and quiclvciess an|l
versatile ingenuity of a people which surpasses
other nations in these brilliant qualities. If ije
must be supposed to have had an eye on any
French writer, it would be a more plausible
guess, that he sometimes copied, with a tem¬
perate hand, the unexpected thoughts and famil¬
iar expressions of Fontenelle. Though/he care¬
fully weeded his writings in their Recessive
editions, yet they still contain Scotticisms and
Gallicisms enough to employ the successors of
such critics as those who exulted over the Irata-
vinity of the Roman Historian. His own great
and modest mind would have been satisfied with
the praise which cannot be withheld from him,
that there is no writer in our language who,
through long works, is more agreeable ; and it
is no derogation from him, that, as a Scots¬
man, he did not reach those native and secret
beauties, characteristical of a language, which
are never attained, in elaborate composition,
but by a very small number of those who famil¬
iarly converse in it from infancy.
The Enquiry affords perhaps the best speci¬
men of his style. In substance, its chief merit
is the proof, from an abundant enumeration of
particulars, that all the qualities and actions of
the mind which are generally approved by man¬
kind agree in the circumstance of being useful
to society. In the proof, (scarcely necessary)
that benevolent affections and actions have that
tendency, he asserts the real existence of these
affections with unusual warmth; and he well
abridges some of the most forcible arguments of
Butler,3 whom it is ?bqiarkable that he does not
mention. To show the importance of his prin¬
ciple! he very unnecessarily distinguishes the
comprehensive duty of justice, frt»m other parts
of morality, as an artificial virtue, for which our
respect is solely derived from notions of utility.
If all things were in such plenty that there could
never be a want, or if men were so benevolent
as to provide for the wants of others as much as
for their own, there would, says he, in neither
case be any j ustice, because there would be no
need for it. But it is evident that the same
reasoning is applicable to every good affection
and right action. None of them could exist if
there were no scope for their exercise. If there
were no suffering, there could be no pity and no
relief. If there were no offences, there could be
no placability. If there were no crimes, there
could be no mercy. Temperance, prudence, pa¬
tience, magnanimity, are qualities of which the
value depends on the evils by which they are
respectively exercised.3
On purity of manners, it must be ousted that
Mr Hume, though he controverts no rule, yet
treats vice with too much indulgence. It was
his general disposition to distrust virtues which
are liable to exaggeration, and may be easily
counterfeited. The ascetic pursuit, of purity,
and hypocritical pretences to patriotism, had too
much withdrawn the respect of his equally calm
and sincere nature from these excellent virtues;
more especially as severity in both these respects
was often at apparent variance with affection,
which can neither be long assumed, nor evei
overvalued. Yet it was singular that he who,
in his Essay on Polygamy and Divorce,* had so
1 These commendations are so far from being at variance with the remarks of the late most ingenious Dr Thomas Biown,
on Mr Hume’s “ mode of writing,” {Enquiry into the Relation of Can sc and Effect, M ed-^27)thatthey ^ther be ^e-
garded as descriptive of those excellencies of which the excess produced the faults of Mr Hume as a mere searcher ami
teacher; justly, though perhaps severely, animadverted on by Dr Brown. . , . _ , •,
* Enquiry, sect. ii. part i., especially the concluding paragraphs; those which piecec e emg ’ p i- rpt. -j
3 “ Si nobis, cum ex hac vita migraverimus, in beatorum insulis, ut fabulse ferunt, immorta e « ii’A
opus esset eloquentia, cum judicia nulla fierent? aut ipsis etiam virtutibus ?_ Isec emm fortitudine indigeremus, nullo ^
posito aut labore aut periculo; nec justitia, cum esset nihil quod appeteretur ahem; nec temperantia, flu*
essent libidines: ne prudentia quidem egeremus, nullo proposito delectu bonorum et ma orum. » extensive and
cognitione rerum et scientia.” {Frag. Cic. Hortens, apud Augustin, de Tnmtate.) Cicero is ™“re ex^3efWe to
therefore more consistent, than Hume ; but his enumeration errs both by excess and defect. , ^e sMPP°®e.s • t
render beings happy in this imaginary state, without stooping to inquire how. e omi s a vi . g a)n_
in it, though we cannot conceive its formation in such a state—the delight in eac i o ier s ‘ ,
ceivable though unknown vice, that of unmixed ill-will, which would render such a state a hell to the wretch who
boured the malevolence.
* Essays and Treatises, vol. I.
356
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
well shown the connection of domestic ties with
the outward order of society, should not have
perceived their deeper and closer relation to all
the social feelings of human nature. It cannot
he enough regretted, that, in an Enquiry writ¬
ten with a very moral purpose, his habit of ma¬
king truth attractive, by throwing over her the
dress of paradox, should have given him for a
moment the appearance of weighing the mere
amusements of society and conversation against
domestic fidelity, which is the preserver of do¬
mestic affection, the source of parental fondness
and filial regard, and, indirectly, of all the kind¬
ness which exists between human beings. That
families are schools where the infant heart learns
to love, and that pure manners are the ce¬
ment which alone holds these schools together,
are truths so certain, that it is wonderful he
should not have betrayed a stronger sense of
their importance. No one could so well have
proved that all the virtues of that class, in their
various orders and degrees, minister to the be¬
nevolent affections; and that every act which
separates the senses from the affections tends, in
some degree, to deprive kindness of its natural
auxiliary, and to lessen its prevalence in the
world. It did not require his sagacity to discover
that the gentlest and tenderest feelings flourish
only under the stern guardianship of these severe
virtues. Perhaps his philosophy was loosened,
though his life was untainted, by that universal
and undistinguishing profligacy which prevailed
on the Continent, from the regency of the Duke
of Orleans to the French revolution; the most
dissolute period of European history, at least
since the Roman emperors.1 At Rome, indeed,
the connection of licentiousness with cruelty,
which, though scarcely traceable in individuals,
is generally very observable in large masses,
bore a fearful testimony to the value of austere
purity. The alliance of these remote vices
seemed to be broken in the time of Mr Hume.
Pleasure, in a more improved state of society,
seemed to return to her more natural union with
kindness and tenderness, as well as with refine¬
ment and politeness. Had he lived fourteen
years longer, however, he would have seen, that
the virtues which guard the natural seminaries
of the affections are their only true and lasting
friends. The demand of all well-informed men
for the improvement of civil institutions—the
demand of classes of men growing in intelligence,
to be delivered from a degrading inferiority, and
admitted to a share of political power propor¬
tioned to their new importance, being feebly yet
violently resisted by those ruling Castes who
neither knew howto yield nor how to withstand 
being also attended by very erroneous principles
of legislation, having suddenly broken down the
barriers (imperfect as these were) of law and
government, led to popular excesses, desolat¬
ing wars, and a military dictatorship, which for
a long time threatened to defeat the reforma¬
tion, and to disappoint the hopes of mankind.
This tremendous convulsion threw a fearful light
on the ferocity which lies hid under the arts and
pleasures of corrupted nations; as earthquakes
and volcanoes disclose the layers which compose
the deeper parts of our planet, beneath a fertile
and flowery surface. A part of this dreadful re¬
sult may be ascribed, not improbably, to that
relaxation of domestic ties, unhappily natural to
the populace of vast capitals, and at that time
countenanced and aggravated by the example of
their superiors. Another part doubtless arose
from the barbarizing power of absolute govern¬
ment, or, in other words, of injustice in high
places. A very large portion attests, as strongly
as Roman history, though in a somewhat differ¬
ent manner, the humanizing efficacy of the family
virtues, by the consequences of the want of them
in the higher classes, whose profuse and ostenta¬
tious sensuality inspired the laborious and suffer¬
ing portion of mankind with contempt, disgust,
envy, and hatred.
The Enquiry is disfigured by another speck of
more frivolous paradox. It consists in the at¬
tempt to give the name of virtue to qualities of
the understanding; and it would not have de¬
served the single remark about to be made on
it, had it been the paradox of an inferior man.
He has altogether omitted the circumstance on
which depends the difference of our sentiments
regarding moral and intellectual qualities. We
1 See Notes and Illustrations, note It.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
357
admire intellectual excellence, but we bestow no
moral approbation on it. Such approbation has
no tendency directly to increase it, because it is
not voluntary. We cultivate our natural dis¬
position to esteem and love benevolence and
justice, because these moral sentiments, and the
expression of them, directly and materially dis¬
pose others, as well as ourselves, to cultivate
these two virtues. We cultivate a natural
anger against oppression, which guards our¬
selves against the practice of that vice, and be¬
cause the manifestation of it deters others from
its exercise. The first rude resentment of a
child is against every instrument of hurt. We
confine it to intentional hurt, when we are
taught by experience that it prevents only that
species of hurt; and at last it is still further li¬
mited to wrong done to ourselves or others, and
in that case becomes a purely moral sentiment.
We morally approve industry, desire of know¬
ledge, love of truth, and all the habits by which
the understanding is strengthened and rectified,
because their formation is subject to the will.1
But we do not feel a moral anger against folly
or ignorance, because they are involuntary. No
one but the religious persecutor, a mischievous
and overgrown child, wreaks his vengeance on
involuntary, inevitable, compulsory acts or states
of the understanding, which are no more affected
by blame than the stone which the foolish child
beats for hurting him. Reasonable men apply
to every thing which they wish to move, the
agent which is capable of moving it;—force to
outward substances, arguments to the under¬
standing, and blame, together with all other
motives, whether moral or personal, to the will
alone. It is as absurd to entertain an abhor¬
rence of intellectual inferiority or error, however
extensive or mischievous, as it would be to
cherish a warm indignation against earthquakes
or hurricanes. It is singular that a philosopher
who needed the most liberal toleration should,
by representing states of the understanding as
moral or immoral, have offered the most philo¬
sophical apology for persecution.
That general utility constitutes a uniform
ground of moral distinctions, is a part of Mr
Hume’s ethical theory which never can be im¬
pugned, until some example can be produced of
a virtue generally pernicious, or of a vice gene¬
rally beneficial. The religious philosopher who,
with Butler, holds that benevolence must be the
actuating principle of the Divine mind, will,
with Berkeley, maintain that pure benevolence
can prescribe no rules of human conduct but
such as are beneficial to men; thus bestowing
on the theory of Moral Distinctions the certainty
of demonstration in the eyes of all who believe
in God.
The other question of moral philosophy which
relates to the theory of Moral Approbation, has
been by no means so distinctly and satisfactorily
handled by Mr Hume. His general doctrine is,
that an interest in the wellbeing of others, im¬
planted by nature, which he calls Sympathy in
his Treatise of Human Nature, and much less
happily Benevolence in his subsequent Enquiry A
prompts us to be pleased with all generally be¬
neficial actions. In this respect his doctrine
nearly resembles that of Hutcheson. He does
not trace his principle through the variety of
forms which our moral sentiments assume.
There are very important parts of them, of
which it affords no solution. For example,
though he truly represents our approbation, in
others, of qualities useful to the individual, as a
proof of benevolence, he makes no attempt to
explain our moral approbation of such virtues
as temperance and fortitude in ourselves. He
entirely overlooks that consciousness of the
rightful supremacy of the moral faculty over every
other principle of human action, without an ex¬
planation of which, ethical theory is wanting in
one of its vital organs.
Notwithstanding these considerable defects,
his proof from induction of the beneficial tend¬
ency of virtue, his conclusive arguments for
human disinterestedness, and his decisive ob¬
servations on the respective provinces of reason
and sentiment in morals, concur in ranking the
1 “ In hac quoestione primas tenet Voluntas, qua, ut ait Augustinus, peccatur, et recte vivitur.” {Hyperasphtct, Diatribe
adversus Servum Arbitrium Martini Lutheri, Desiderium Erasmum Rotterdamensem.)
a Essays and Treatises, vol. II.
358
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Enquiry with the ethical treatises of the highest quiry concerning Virtue, Butler’s Sermons, and
merit in our language,—with Shaftesbury’s En- Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments.
ADAM SMITH.1
The great name of Adam Smith rests upon
the Enquiry into the Nature and Causes of the
Wealth of Nations ; perhaps the only book which
produced an immediate, general, and irrevoc¬
able change in some of the most important parts
of the legislation of all civilized states. The
works of Grotius, of Locke, and of Montesquieu,
which bear a resemblance to it in character, and
had no inconsiderable analogy to it in the ex¬
tent of their popular influence, were productive
only of a general amendment, not so conspicuous
in particular instances, as discoverable, after a
time, in the improved condition of human af¬
fairs. 2 The work of Smith, as it touched those
matters which may he numbered, and measured,
and weighed, bore more visible and palpable
fruit. In a few years it began to alter laws and
treaties, and has made its way, throughout the
convulsions of revolution and conquest, to a due
ascendant over the minds of men, with far less
than the average obstructions of prejudice and
clamour, which choakthe channels through which
truth flows into practice. The most eminent of
those who have since cultivated and improved
the science will be the foremost to address their
immortal master,
  Tenebris tantis tain clarum extollere lumen
Q,ui primus potuisti, inlusthasts commoda vxtjE,
Te sequor ! (Lucbet. lib. iii.)
In a science more difficult, because both ascend¬
ing to more simple general principles, and run¬
ning down through more minute applications,
though the success of Smith has been less com¬
plete, his genius is not less conspicuous. Per¬
haps there is no ethical work since Cicero’s Of¬
fices, of which an abridgement enables the reader
so inadequately to estimate the merit, as the
Theory of Moral Sentiments. This is not chiefly
owing to the beauty of diction, as in the case of
Cicero ; but to the variety of explanations of life
and manners which embellish the book often
more than they illuminate the theory. Yet, on
the other hand, it must be owned that, for pure¬
ly philosophical purposes, few books more need
abridgement: for the most careful reader fre¬
quently loses sight of principles buried under
illustrations. The naturally copious and flow¬
ing style of the author is generally redundant,
and the repetition of certain formularies of the
system is, in the later editions, so frequent as to
be wearisome, and sometimes ludicrous. Per¬
haps Smith and Hobbes may be considered as
forming the two extremes of good style in our
philosophy; the first of .graceful fulness falling
into flaccidity; while the masterly concision of
the second is oftener tainted by dictatorial dry¬
ness. Hume and Berkeley, though they are
nearer the extreme of abundance,5 are probably
the least distant from perfection.
That mankind are so constituted as to sympa¬
thize with each other’s feelings, and to feel
pleasure in the accordance of these feelings, are
the only facts required by Dr Smith, and they
certainly must be granted to him. To adopt the
feelings of another, is to approve them. When
the sentiments of another are such as would be
excited in us by the same objects, we approve
them as morally proper. To obtain this accord,
it becomes necessary for him who enjoys or suf¬
fers, to lower his expression of feeling to the
point to which the by-stander can raise his fel¬
low-feelings ; on which are founded all the high
virtues of self-denial and self-command; and it
is equally necessary for the by-stander to raise
his sympathy as near as he can to the level of
the original feeling. In all unsocial passions,
such as anger, we have a divided sympathy be¬
tween him who feels them and those who are the
1 Born in 1723 ; died in 1790.
2 Notes and Illustrations, note S.
3 I his remark is chiefly applicable to Hume’s Essays. His Treatise of Human Nature is more Hobbian in its general
tenor, though it has Ciceronian passages.
i
DISSERTATION SECOND.
359
objects of them. Hence the propriety of ex¬
tremely moderating them. Pure malice is al¬
ways to be concealed or disguised, because all
sympathy is arrayed against it. In the private
passions, where there is only a simple sympathy—
that with the original passion—the expression has
more liberty. The benevolent affections, where
there is a double sympathy—with those who feel
them, and those who are their objects—are the
most agreeable, and may be indulged with the
least apprehension of finding no echo in other
breasts. Sympathy with the gratitude of those
who are benefited by good actions, prompts us
to consider them as deserving of reward, and
forms the sense of merit; as fellow-feeling with the
resentment of those who are injured by crimes
leads us to look on them as worthy of punishment,
and constitutes the sense of demerit. These senti¬
ments require not only beneficial actions, but be¬
nevolent motives for them; being compounded,
in the case of merit, of a direct sympathy with the
good disposition of the benefactor, and an indirect
sympathy with the persons benefited; in the op¬
posite case, with precisely opposite sympathies.
He who does an act of wrong to another to gratify
his own passions, must not expect that the spec¬
tators, who have none of his undue partiality to
his own interest, will enter into his feelings. In
such a case, he knows that they will pity the
person wronged, and be full of indignation
against him. When he is cooled, he adopts the
sentiments of others on his own crime, feels
shame at the impropriety of his former passion,
pity for those who have suffered by him, and a
dread of punishment from general and just re¬
sentment. Such are the constituent parts of
remorse.
Our moral sentiments respecting ourselves
arise from those which others feel concerning
us. We feel a self-approbation whenever we
believe that the general feeling of mankind co¬
incides with that state of mind in which we our¬
selves were at a given time. “ We suppose
ourselves the spectators of our own behaviour,
and endeavour to imagine what effect it would
hi this light produce in us.” We must view our
own conduct with the eyes of others before we
can judge it. The sense of duty arises from
putting ourselves in the place of others, and
adopting their sentiments respecting our own
conduct. In utter solitude there could have
been no self-approbation. The rules of morality
are a summary of those sentiments; and often
beneficially stand in their stead when the self-
delusions of passion would otherwise hide from
us the non-conformity of our state of mind
with that which, in the circumstances, can be
entered into and approved by impartial by¬
standers. It is hence that we learn to raise our
mind above local or temporary clamour, and to
fix our eyes on the surest indications of the ge¬
neral and lasting sentiments of human nature.
u When we approve of any character or action,
our sentiments are derived from four sources:
first, we sympathize with the motives of the
agent; secondly, we enter into the gratitude of
those who have been benefited by his actions;
thirdly, we observe that his conduct has been
agreeable to the general rules by which those
two sympathies generally act; and, last of all,
when we consider such actions as forming part
of a system of behaviour which tends to promote
the happiness either of the individual or of so¬
ciety, they appear to derive a beauty from this
utility, not unlike that which we ascribe to any
well-contrived machine.”1
REMARKS.
That Smith is the first who has drawn the at¬
tention of philosophers to one of the most cu¬
rious and important parts of human nature—
who has looked closely and steadily into the
workings of Sympathy, its sudden action and re¬
action, its instantaneous conflicts and its emo¬
tions, its minute play and varied illusions—is
sufficient to place him high among the culti¬
vators of mental philosophy.
He is very original in applications and expla¬
nations ; though, for his principle, he is some¬
what indebted to Butler, more to Hutcheson,
and most of all to Hume. These writers, except
Hume in his original work, had derived sym-
1 Theory of Moral Sentiments, II. 304. Edinb. 1801.
360
preliminary dissertations.
pathy, or great part of it, from benevolence.1
Smith, with deeper insight, inverted the order.
The great part performed by various sympathies
in moral approbation was first unfolded by him;
and besides its intrinsic importance, it strength¬
ened the proofs against those theories which
ascribe that great function to Reason. Another
great merit of the theory of sympathy is, that it
brings into the strongest light that most import¬
ant characteristic of the moral sentiments which
consists in their being the only principles lead¬
ing to action, and dependent on emotion or sen¬
sibility, with respect to the objects of which,
it is not only possible but natural for all man¬
kind to agree.2
The main defects of this theory seem to be the
following.
1. Though it is not to be condemned for de¬
clining inquiry into the origin of our fellow-
feeling, which, being one of the most certain of
all facts, might well be assumed as ultimate in
speculations of this nature, it is evident that the
circumstances to which some speculators ascribe
the formation of sympathy at least contribute to
strengthen or impair, to contract or expand it.
It will appear, more conveniently, in the next
article, that the theory of sympathy has suffered
from the omission of these circumstances. For
the present, it is enough to observe how much
our compassion for various sorts of animals, and
our fellow-feeling with various races of men, are
proportioned to the resemblance which they bear
to ourselves, to the frequency of our intercourse
with them, and to other causes which, in the
opinion of some, afford evidence that sympathy
itself is dependent on a more general law.
2. Had Smith extended his view beyond the
mere play of sympathy itself, and taken into ac¬
count all its preliminaries, and accompaniments,
and consequences, it seems improbable that he
should have fallen into the great error of repre¬
senting the sympathies in their primitive state,
without undergoing any transformation, as con¬
tinuing exclusively to constitute the moral sen¬
timents. He is not content with teaching that
they are the roots out of which these sentiments
grow, the stocks on which they are grafted, the
elements of which they are compounded;—doc¬
trines to which nothing could be objected hut
their unlimited extent. He tacitly assumes,
that if a sympathy in the beginning caused or
formed a moral approbation, so it must ever
continue to do. He proceeds like a geologist
who should tell us that the layers of this planet
had always been in the same state, shutting his
eyes to transition states and secondary forma¬
tions ; or like a chemist who should inform us
that no compound substance can possess new
qualities entirely different from those which be¬
long to its materials. His acquiescence in this
old and still general error is the more remark¬
able, because Mr Hume’s beautiful Dissertation
on the PassionsJ had just before opened a strik¬
ing view of some of the compositions and de¬
compositions which render the mind of a formed
man as different from its original state, as the
organization of a complete animal is from the
condition of the first dim speck of vitality. It
is from this oversight (ill supplied by moral
rules, a loose stone in his building) that he has
exposed himself to objections founded on expe¬
rience, to which it is impossible to attempt any
. answer. For it is certain that in many, nay in
most cases of moral approbation, the adult man
approves the action or disposition merely as
right, and with a distinct consciousness that no
process of sympathy intervenes between the
approval and its object. It is certain that an
unbiassed person would call it moral approbation,
only as far as it excluded the interposition of
any reflection between the conscience and the
mental state approved. Upon the supposition
of an unchanged state of our active principles,
it would follow that sympathy never had any
share in the greater part of them. Had he ad¬
mitted the sympathies to be only elements enter¬
ing into the formation of Conscience, their dis¬
appearance, or their appearance only as auxili-
1 There is some confusion regarding this point in Butler’s first sermon on Compassion. ' , f ' ' pxcention, for
= The feelings of beauty, grandeur, and whatever else is comprehended under the name of Taste ’ en
they do not lead to action, but terminate in delightful contemplation ; wluch constitutes the essentia
them and the moral sentiments, to which, in some points of view, they may doubtless be iikenec. .
3 Essays and Treatises, voL II.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
361
aries, after the mind is mature, would have
been no more an objection to his system, than
the conversion of a substance from a transi¬
tional to a permanent state is a perplexity to
the geologist. It would perfectly resemble the
destruction of qualities, which is the ordinary
effect of chemical composition.
3. The same error has involved him in an¬
other difficulty perhaps still more fatal. The
sympathies have nothing more of an imperative
character than any other emotions. They
attract or repel like other feelings, according to
their intensity. If, then, the sympathies con¬
tinue in mature minds to constitute the whole
of conscience, it becomes utterly impossible to
explain the character of command and suprem¬
acy, which is attested by the unanimous voice
of mankind to belong to that faculty, and to
form its essential distinction. Had he adopted
the other representation, it would be possible to
conceive, perhaps easy to explain, that con¬
science should possess a quality which belonged
to none of its elements.
4. It is to this representation that Smith’s
theory owes that unhappy appearance of ren¬
dering the rule of our conduct dependent on
the notions and passions of those who surround
us, of which the utmost efforts of the most re¬
fined ingenuity have not been able to divest it.
This objection or topic is often ignorantly urged;
the answers are frequently solid; but to most
men they must always appear to bo an ingeni¬
ous and intricate contrivance of cycles and epi¬
cycles, which perplex the mind too much to
satisfy it, and seem devised to evade difficulties
which cannot be solved. All theories which
treat conscience as built up by circumstances
inevitably acting on all human minds, are, in¬
deed, liable to somewhat of the same miscon¬
ception ; unless they place in the strongest light
(what Smith’s theory excludes) the total de¬
struction of the scaffolding which was neces¬
sary only to the erection of the building, after
the mind is adult and mature, and warn the
hastiest reader, that it then rests on its own
foundation alone.
5. The constant reference of our own dispo¬
sitions and actions to the point of view from
which they are estimated by others, seems to
be rather an excellent expedient for preserving
our impartiality, than a fundamental principle
of Ethics. But impartiality, which is no more
than a removal of some hinderance to right judg¬
ment, supplies no materials for its exercise, and
no rule, or even principle, for its guidance. It
nearly coincides with the Christian precept of
doing unto others as we would they should do
unto us; an admirable practical maxim, but, as
Leibnitz has said truly, intended only as a cor¬
rection of self-partiality.
6. Lastly, this ingenious system renders all
morality relative,—by referring it to the plea¬
sure of an agreement of our feelings with those
of others, by confining itself entirely to the
question of moral approbation, and by provid¬
ing no place for the consideration of that quality
which distinguishes all good from all bad ac¬
tions ;—a defect which will appear in the sequel
to be more immediately fatal to a theorist of the
sentimental, than to one of the intellectual school.
Smith shrinks from considering utility in that
light as soon as it presents itself, or very strange¬
ly ascribes its power over our moral feelings to
admiration of the mere adaptation of means
to ends,—which might surely be as well felt for
the production of wide-spread misery, by a con¬
sistent system of wicked conduct,—instead of
ascribing it to benevolence, with Hutcheson and
Hume, or to an extension of that very sympathy
which is his own first principle.
RICHARD PRICE.1
About the same time with the celebrated and eminent non-conformist minister, published
work of Smith, but with a popular reception A Review of the principal Questions in Morals ;2—
very different, Dr Richard Price, an excellent an attempt to revive the intellectual theory of
1 Bom in 1723; died in 1791.
DISS. II.
* The third edition was published at London in 1787*
2 z
362
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
moral obligation, which seemed to have fallen
under the attacks of Butler, Hutcheson, and
Hume, even before Smith. It attracted little
observation at first; hut being afterwards coun¬
tenanced by the Scottish School, may seem to
deserve some notice, at a moment when the
kindred speculations of the German metaphysi¬
cians have effected an establishment in France,
and are no longer unknown in England.
The understanding itself is, according to
Price, an independent source of simple ideas.
“ The various kinds of agreement and disagree¬
ment between our ideas, spoken of by Locke,
are so many new simple ideas.” “ This is true
of our ideas of proportion, of our ideas of iden¬
tity and diversity, existence, connection, cause
and effect, power, possibility, and of our ideas
of right and wrong.” “ The first relates to
quantity, the last to actions, the rest to all
things.” “ Like all other simple ideas, they are
undefineable.”
It is needless to pursue this theory farther,
till an answer shall he given to the observation
made before, that as no perception or judgment,
or other unmixed act of understanding, merely
as such, and without the agency of some inter¬
mediate emotion^ can affect the will, the account
given by Dr Price of perceptions or judgments
respecting moral subjects, does not advance one
step towards the explanation of the authority of
conscience over the will, which is the matter to
he explained. Indeed, this respectable writer
felt the difficulty so much as to allow, “ that in
contemplating the acts of moral agents, we have
both a perception of the understanding and a
feeling of the heart.” Pie even admits, that it
would have been highly pernicious to us if our
reason had been left without such support. But
he has not shown how, on such a supposition,
we could have acted on a mere opinion; nor
has he given any proof that what he calls
port is not, in truth, the whole of what directly
produces the conformity of voluntary acts to
morality.1
DAVID HARTLEY.2
The work of Dr Plartley, entitled Observations
on Man,s is distinguished by an uncommon
union of originality with modesty, in unfolding
a simple and fruitful principle of human nature.
It is disfigured by the absurd affectation of ma¬
thematical forms then prevalent; and it is en¬
cumbered and deformed by a mass of physiolo¬
gical speculations, groundless, or at best uncer¬
tain, wholly foreign from its proper purpose,
which repel the inquirer into mental philosophy
from its perusal, and lessen the respect of the
physiologist for the author’s judgment. It is an
unfortunate example of the disposition predomi¬
nant among undistinguishing theorists to class
together all the appearances which are observed
at the same time, and in the immediate neigh¬
bourhood of each other. At that period, chemi¬
cal phenomena were referred to mechanical prin¬
ciples ; vegetable and animal life were subjected
to mechanical or chemical laws; and while some
physiologists4 ascribed the vital functions to the
understanding, the greater part of metaphysi¬
cians were disposed, with a grosser confusion,
to derive the intellectual operations from bodily
causes. The error in the latter case, though less
immediately perceptible, is deeper and more
fundamental than in any other; since it over¬
looks the primordial and perpetual distinction
between the being which thinks and the thing
which is thought of;—not to be lost sight of, by
the mind’s eye, even for a twinkling, without
involving all nature in darkness and confusion.
1 The following sentences will illustrate the text, and are in truth applicable to all moral theories on merely intellectua
principles :—“ Reason alone, did we possess it in a higher degree, would answer all the ends of the passions. Thus there
would be no need of parental affection, were all parents sufficiently acquainted with the reasons for taking upon them the
guidance and support of those whom nature has placed under their care, and were they virtuous enough to he always determine
hy those reasons." (Phice’s Review, 121.) A very slight consideration will show, that without the last words the preceding
part would be utterly false, and with them it is utterly insignificant.
2 Born in 1705 ; died in 1757-
3 London, 1749.
4 G. E. Stahl, born in 1600; died in 1734; a German physician and chemist of deserved eminence.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
363
Hartley and Condillac,1 who, much about the
same time, but seemingly without any know¬
ledge of each other’s speculations,2 began in a
very similar mode to simplify, but also to muti¬
late the system of Locke, stopped short of what
is called Materialism, which consummates the
Confusion, but touched its threshold. Thither,
it must be owned, their philosophy pointed, and
thither their followers proceeded. Hartley and
Bonnet,5 still more than Condillac, sulfered them¬
selves, like most of their contemporaries, to
overlook the important truth, that all the changes
in the organs which can be likened to other
material phenomena, are nothing more than an¬
tecedents and prerequisites of perception, bearing
not the faintest likeness to it; as much outward
in relation to the thinking principle, as if they
occurred in any other part of matter; and of
which the entire comprehension, if it were at¬
tained, would not bring us a step nearer to the
nature of thought. They who would have been
the first to exclaim against the mistake of a
sound for a colour, fell into the more unspeak¬
able error of confounding the perception of ob¬
jects, as outward, with the consciousness of our
own mental operations. Locke’s doctrine, that
Reflection was a separate source of ideas, left
room for this greatest of all distinctions,—
though with much unhappiness of expression,
and with no little variance from the course of
his own speculations. Hartley, Condillac, and
Bonnet, in hewing away this seeming deformity
from the system of their master, unwittingly
struck off the part of the building which, how¬
ever unsightly, gave it the power of yielding
some shelter and guard to truths, of which the
exclusion rendered it utterly untenable. They
became consistent Nominalists; a controversy
on which Locke expresses himself Avitli confu¬
sion and contradiction; but on this subject they
added nothing to what had been taught by
Hobbes and Berkeley. Both Hartley and Con¬
dillac4 have the merit of having been unseduced
by the temptations either of scepticism or of
useless idealism; which, even if Berkeley and
Hume could have been unknown to them, must
have been within sight. Both agree in referring
all the intellectual operations to the association
of ideas, and in representing that association as
reducible to the single law, that ideas which en¬
ter the mind at the same time, acquire a ten¬
dency to call up each other, which is in direct
proportion to the frequency of their having en¬
tered together. In this important part of their
doctrine they seem, whether unconsciously or
otherwise, to have only repeated, and very much
expanded, the opinion of Hobbes.5 In its sim¬
plicity it is more agreeable than the system of
Mr Hume, who admitted five independent laws
of association; and it is in comprehension far
superior to the views of the same subject by Mr
Locke, whose ill-chosen name still retains its
place in our nomenclature, but who only appeals
to the principle as explaining some fancies and
whimsies of the human mind. The capital fault
of Hartley is that of a rash generalization, which
may prove imperfect, and which is at least pre¬
mature. All attempts to explain instinct by this
principle have hitherto been unavailing. Many
of the most important processes of reasoning have
not hitherto been accounted for by it.6 It would
appear by a close examination, that even this
theory, simple as it appears, presupposes many
facts relating to the mind, of which its authors
1 Born in 1715 ; died in 1780.
1 Traitt sur VOrigine des Connoissances Humaines, 1748; Traite des Systemes, 1749; Traite des Sensations, 1754. Foreign
books were then little and slowly known in F.ngland. Hartley’s reading, except on theology, seems confined to the physi¬
cal and mathematical sciences; and his whole manner of thinking and writing is so different from that of Condillac, that
there is not the least reason to suppose the work of the one to have been known to the other.
The work of Hartley, as we learn from the sketch of his life by his son, prefixed to the edition of 1791, was begun in
1730, and finished in 1746. ^ &
* Born in 1720; died in 1793.
• \The foUpwiug n°fe of Condillac will show how much he differed from Hartley in his mode of considering the Newton¬
ian hypothesis of vibrations, and how far he was in that respect superior to him. “ Je suppose ici et ailleurs que les per¬
ceptions de fame ont pour cause physique 1’dbranlement des fibres du cerveau ; non que je regarde cette hypothe.se comme di-
montrte, mats parcequ' cite est la plus commode pour expliquer ma penste.” ((Euvres de Condillac, I. 60. Paris, 1798.)
® Human Nature, chap. iv. v. vi. For more ancient statements, see Notes and Illustrations, note T.
* U„^e <lue *es logicians ont dit des raisonnements dans bien des volumes, me paroit entierement superflu, et de nul
usage (Condillac, I. 115); an assertion of which the gross absurdity will be apparent to the readers of Dr Whately’s
freatisc on Logic, one of the most important works of the present age.
364
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
do not seem to have suspected the existence.
How many ultimate facts of that nature, for ex¬
ample, are contained and involved in Aristotle’s
celebrated comparison of the mind in its first
state to a sheet of unwritten paper!1 The tex¬
ture of the paper, even its colour, the sort of in¬
strument fit to act on it, its capacity to receive
and to retain impressions, all its differences,
from steel on the one hand to water on the
other, certainly presuppose some facts, and may
imply many, without a distinct statement of
which, the nature of writing could not be ex¬
plained to a person wholly ignorant of it. How
many more, as well as greater laws, may he ne¬
cessary to enable mind to perceive outward ob¬
jects ! If the power of perception may be thus
dependent, why may not what is called the asso¬
ciation of ideas, the attraction between thoughts,
the power of one to suggest another, be affected
by mental laws hitherto unexplored, perhaps un¬
observed ?
But to return from digression into the intel¬
lectual part of man : It becomes proper to say,
that the difference between Hartley and Con¬
dillac, and the immeasurable superiority of the
former, are chiefly to be found in the applica¬
tion which Hartley first made of the law of as¬
sociation to that other unnamed portion of our
nature with which morality more immediately
deals; that which feels pain and pleasure, is
influenced by appetites and loathings, by desires
and aversions, by affections and repugnances.
Condillac’s Treatise mi Sensation, published five
years after the work of Hartley, reproduces the
doctrine of Hobbes with its root, namely, that
love and hope are but transformed sensations,2
by which he means perceptions of the senses;
and its wide-spread branches, consisting in de¬
sires and passions, which are only modifications
of self-love. “ The words goodness and beauty,''
says he, almost in the very words of Hobbes,
“ express those qualities of things by which they
contribute to our pleasures.”3 In the whole of
his philosophical works, we find no trace of any
desire produced by association, of any disinter¬
ested principle, or indeed of any distinction be¬
tween the percipient and what, perhaps, we may
now venture to call the emotive or the pathematic
part of human nature, until some more conve¬
nient and agreeable name shall be hit on by
some luckier or more skilful adventurer, in such
new terms as seem to be absolutely necessary.
To the ingenuous, humble, and anxiously con¬
scientious character of Hartley, we owe the know¬
ledge that, about the year 1730, he was inform¬
ed that the Rev. Mr Gay of Sidney College,
Cambridge, then living in the west of England,
asserted the possibility of deducing all our intel¬
lectual pleasures and pains from association;
that this led him (Hartley) to consider the power
of association ; and that about that time Mr Gay
published his sentiments on this matter in a dis¬
sertation prefixed to Bishop Law’s Translation of
King’s Origin of Evil* No writer deserves more
the praise of abundant fairness than Hartley in
this avowal. The dissertation of which he speaks
is mentioned by no philosopher but himself. It
suggested nothing apparently to any other read¬
er. The general texture of it is that of home-
spun selfishness. The writer had the merit to
see and to own that Hutcheson had established
as a fact the reality of moral sentiments and dis¬
interested affections. He blames, perhaps just¬
ly, that most ingenious man,5 for assuming that
these sentiments and affections are implanted,
and partake of the nature of instincts. The ob¬
ject of his dissertation is to reconcile the mental
appearances described by Hutcheson with the
1 See Notes and Illustrations, note IT.
2 Condillac, III. 21 ; more especially Traite. dcs Sensations, part ii. chap. vi. “ Its love for outward objects is only an
effect of love for itself.”
3 Traite dcs Sensations, part iv. chap. iii.
4 Hartley’s Preface to the Observations on Man. The word intellectual is too narrow. Even mental would be of very
doubtful propriety. The theory in its full extent requires a word such as inorganic, (if no better can be discovered) extend¬
ing to all gratification, not distinctly referred to some specific organ, or at least to some assignable part of the bodily frame.
5 It has not been mentioned in its proper place, that Hutcheson appears nowhere to greater advantage than in Letters
on the Fable of the Bees, published when he was very young, at Dublin, in a publication called Hibernicus. “ Private vices
public benefits,” says he, “ may signify any one of these five distinct propositions : 1. They are in themselves public be¬
nefits ; or, 2. They naturally produce public happiness ; or, 3. They may be made to produce it; or, 4 They may natu¬
rally flow from it; or, 5. At least they may probably flow from it in our infirm nature.” (See a small volume containing
Thoughts on> Laughter, and Observations on the Fable of the Bees, Glasgow, 1758, in which these letters are: republished.)
DISSERTATION SECOND.
365
first principle of the selfish system, that “ the
true principle of all our actions is our own hap-
piness.,, Moral feelings and social affections
are, according to him, <c resolyahle into reason,
pointing out our private happiness; and when¬
ever this end is not perceived^ they are to he ac¬
counted for from the association of ideas.” Even
in the single passage in which he shows a glimpse
of the truth, he begins with confusion, advances
with hesitation, and after holding in his grasp
for an instant the principle which sheds so
strong a light around it, suddenly drops it from
his hand. Instead of receiving the statements
of Hutcheson (his silence relating to Butler is
unaccountable) as enlargements of the science
of man, he deals with them merely as difficulties
to he reconciled with the received system of
universal selfishness. In the conclusion of his
fourth section, he well exemplifies the power of
association in forming the love of money, of
fame, of power, &c.; hut he still treats these
effects of association as aberrations and infirmi¬
ties, the fruits of our forgetfulness and short¬
sightedness, and not at all as the great process
employed to sow and rear the most important
principles of a social and moral nature.
This precious mine may therefore be truly
said to have been opened by Hartley; for he
who did such superabundant j ustice to the hints
of Gay, would assuredly not have withheld the
like tribute from Hutcheson, had he observ¬
ed the happy expression of £< secondary pas¬
sions,” which ought to have led that philoso¬
pher himself farther than he ventured to ad¬
vance. The extraordinary value of this part of
Hartley’s system has been hidden by various
causes, which have also enabled writers who
borrow from it to decry it. The influence of
his medical habits renders many of his examples
displeasing, and sometimes disgusting. He has
none of that knowledge of the world, of that fa¬
miliarity with literature, of that delicate percep¬
tion of the beauties of nature and art, which not
only supply the most agreeable illustrations of
mental philosophy, but afford the most obvious
and striking instances of its happy application to
subjects generally interesting. His particular
applications of the general law are often mis¬
taken, and seldom more than brief notes and
hasty suggestions ; the germs of theories which,
while some might adopt them without detec¬
tion, others might discover without being aware
that they were anticipated. To which it may
be added, that in spite of the imposing forms of
geometry, the work is not really distinguished
by good method, or even uniform adherence to
that which had been chosen. His style is en¬
titled to no praise but that of clearness, and a
simplicity of diction, through which is visible a
singular simplicity of mind. No book perhaps
exists which, with so few of the common allure¬
ments, comes at last so much to please by the
picture it presents of the writer’s character,—a
character which kept him pure from the pursuit,
often from the consciousness of novelty, and ren¬
dered him a discoverer in spite of his own modes¬
ty. In those singular passages in which, amidst
the profound internal tranquillity of all the Euro¬
pean nations, he foretells approaching convul¬
sions, to be followed by the overthrow of states
and churches, his quiet and gentle spirit, else¬
where almost ready to inculcate passive obe¬
dience for the sake of peace, is supported under
its awful forebodings by the hope of that general
progress in virtue and happiness which he saw
through the preparatory confusion. A meek piety,
inclining towards mysticism, and sometimes in¬
dulging in visions which borrow a lustre from his
fervid benevolence, was beautifully, and perhaps
singularly, blended in him with zeal for the most
unbounded freedom of inquiry, flowing both
from his own conscientious belief and his un¬
mingled love of truth. Whoever can so far
subdue his repugnance to petty or secondary
faults as to bestow a careful perusal on the
work, must be unfortunate if he does not see,
feel, and own, that the writer was a great phi¬
losopher and a good man.
To those who thus study the work, it will be
apparent that Hartley, like other philosophers,
either overlooked, or failed explicitly to an¬
nounce, that distinction between perception and
emotion, without which no system of mental
philosophy is complete. Hence arose the partial
and incomplete view of truth conveyed by the
use of the phrase “ association of ideas.” If
the word association^ which rather indicates the
connection between separate things, than the
366
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
perfect combination and fusion which occur in
many operations of the mind, must, notwith¬
standing its inadequacy, still be retained, the
phrase ou gh t at least to be “ association of though ts
with emotions, as well as with each other.”
With that enlargement an objection to the Hart-
leian doctrine would have been avoided, and its
originality, as well as superiority over that of
Condillac, would have appeared indisputable.
The examples of avarice and other factitious
passions are very well chosen; first, because few
will be found to suppose that they are original
principles of human nature j1 secondly, because
the process by which they are generated, being
subsequent to the age of attention and recollec¬
tion, may be brought home to the understanding
of all men; and, thirdly, because they afford the
most striking instance of secondary passions,
which not only become independent of the pri¬
mary principles from which they are derived,
but hostile to them, and so superior in strength
as to be capable of overpowering their parents.
As soon as the mind becomes familiar with the
frequent case of the man who first pursued money
to purchase pleasure, but at last, when he be¬
comes a miser, loves his hoard better than all
that it could purchase, and sacrifices all pleasures
for its increase, we are prepared to admit that,
by a like process, the affections, when they are
fixed on the happiness of others as their ultimate
object, without any reflection on self, may not
only be perfectly detached from self-regard or
private desires, but may subdue these, and every
other antagonist passion which can stand in
their way. As the miser loves money for its
own sake, so may the benevolent man delight in
the wellbeing of his fellows. His good-will be¬
comes as disinterested as if it had been implant¬
ed and underived. The like process applied to
what is called self-love, or the desire of perma¬
nent wellbeing, clearly explains the mode in
which that principle is gradually formed from
the separate appetites, without whose previous
existence no notion of wellbeing could be ob¬
tained. In like manner, sympathy, perhaps it¬
self the result of a transfer of our own personal
feelings by association to other sentient beings,
and of a subsequent transfer of their feelings to
our own minds, engenders the various social af¬
fections, which at last generate in most minds
some regard to the wellbeing of our country, of.
mankind, of all creatures capable of pleasure.
Rational self-love controls and guides those far
keener self-regarding passions of which it is the
child, in the same manner as general benevo¬
lence balances and governs the variety of much
warmer social affections from which it springs.
It is an ancient and obstinate error of philoso¬
phers to represent these two calm principles as
being the source of the impelling passions and
affections, instead of being among the last re¬
sults of them. Each of them exercises a sort
of authority in its sphere, but the dominion of
neither is co-existent with the whole nature of
man. Though they have the power to quicken
and check, they are both too feeble to impel;
and if the primary principles were extinguished,
they would both perish from want of nourish^
ment. If indeed all appetites and desires were
destroyed, no subject would exist on which either
of these general principles could act.
The affections, desires, and emotions, having for
their ultimate object the dispositions and actions
of voluntary agents, which alone, from the nature
of their object, are co-extensive with the whole
of our active nature, are, according to the same
philosophy, necessarily formed in every human
mind by the transfer of feeling which is effected
by the principle of association. Gratitude, pity,
resentment, and shame, seem to be the simplest,
the most active, and the most uniform elements
in their composition.
It is easy to perceive how the complacency
inspired by a benefit may be transferred to a
benefactor, thence to all beneficent beings and
acts. The well-chosen instance of the nurse
familiarly exemplifies the manner in which the
child transfers his complacency from the grati¬
fication of his senses to the cause of it, and thus
learns an affection for her who is the source of
1 A very ingenious man, Lord Karnes, whose works had a great effect in rousing the mind of his contemporaries an
countrymen, has indeed fancied that there is “ a hoarding instinct” in man and other animals. But such conclusions are
not so much objects of confutation, as ludicrous proofs of the absurdity of the premises which lead to them.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
367
his enjoyment. With this simple process con¬
cur, in the case of a tender nurse, and far more
of a mother, a thousand acts of relief and en¬
dearment, of which the complacency is fixed on
the person from whom they flow, and in some
degree extended by association to all who re¬
semble that person. So much of the pleasure
of early life depends on others, that the like pro¬
cess is almost constantly repeated. Hence the
origin of benevolence may be understood, and
the disposition to approve all benevolent, and
disapprove all malevolent acts. Hence also the
same approbation and disapprobation are ex¬
tended to all acts which we clearly perceive to
promote or obstruct the happiness of men.
When the complacency is extended to action,
benevolence may be said to be transformed into
a part of conscience. The rise of sympathy
may probably be explained by the process of
association, which transfers the feelings of others
to ourselves, and ascribes our own feelings to
others;—at first, and in some degree, always
in proportion as the resemblance of ourselves to
others is complete. The likeness in the outward
signs of emotion is one of the widest channels
in this commerce of hearts. Pity thereby be¬
comes one of the grand sources of benevolence,
and perhaps contributes more largely than gra¬
titude. It is indeed one of the first motives to
the conferring of those benefits which inspire
grateful affection. Sympathy with the sufferer,
therefore, is also transformed into a real senti¬
ment, directly approving benevolent actions and
dispositions, and more remotely all actions that
promote happiness. The anger of the sufferer,
first against all causes of pain, afterwards against
all intentional agents who produce it, and final¬
ly against all those in whom the infliction of
pain proceeds from a mischievous disposition,
when it is communicated to others by sympathy,
and is so far purified by gradual separation from
selfish and individual interest as to be equally
felt against all wrong-doers, whether the wrong
be done against ourselves, our friends, or our
enemies, is the root out of which springs that
which is commonly and well called a Sense of
Justice—the most indispensable, perhaps, of all
the component parts of the moral faculties. It
is the main guard against wrong. It relates to
that portion of morality where many of the out¬
ward acts are capable of being reduced under
certain rules, of which the violations, wherever
the rule is sufficiently precise, and the mischief
sufficiently great, may be guarded against by
the terror of punishment. In the observation
of the rules of justice consists duty ; breaches of
them we denominate crimes. An abhorrence of
crimes, especially of those which indicate the
absence of benevolence, as well as of regard to
justice, is peculiarly strong; because well-framed
penal laws, being the lasting declaration of the
moral indignation of many generations of man¬
kind, exceedingly strengthen the same feeling
in every individual, as long as they remain in
unison with the sentiments of the age and coun¬
try for which they are destined, and, indeed,
wherever the laws do not so much deviate
from the habitual feelings as to produce a
struggle between law and sentiment, in which
it is hard to say on which side success is most
deplorable. A man who performs his duties
may be esteemed, but is not admired; because
it requires no more than ordinary virtue to act
well where it is shameful and dangerous to do
otherwise. The righteousness of those who act
solely from such inferior motives, is little better
than that “of the Scribes and Pharisees.” Those
only are just in the eye of the moralist who act
justly from a constant disposition to render to
every man his own.1 Acts of kindness, of gene¬
rosity, of pity, of placability, of humanity, when
they are long continued, can hardly fail mainly
to flow from the pure fountain of an excellent
nature. They are not reducible to rules; and
the attempt to enforce them by punishment
would destroy them. They are virtues of which
the essence consists in a good disposition of
mind. As we gradually transfer our desire from
praise to praiseworthiness, this principle also is
adopted into consciousness. On the other hand,
1 “ Justitia est constans et perpetua voluntas suum cuique tribuendian excellent definition in the mouth of the Stoical
moralists, from whom it is borrowed, but altogether misplaced by the Roman Jurists in a body of laws which deal only with
outward acts in their relation to the order and interest of society.
368
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
when we are led by association to feel a painful
contempt for those feelings and actions of our
past self which we despise in others, there is
developed in our hearts another element of that
moral sense. It is a remarkable instance of the
power of the law of association, that the con¬
tempt or abhorrence which we feel for the bad
actions of others may be transferred by it, in any
degree of strength, to our own past actions of the
like kind. And as the hatred of bad actions is
transferred to the agent, the same transfer may
occur in our own case in a manner perfectly
similar to that of which we are conscious in our
feelings towards our fellow-creatures. There are
many causes which render it generally feebler;
but it is perfectly evident that it requires no more
than a sufficient strength of moral feeling to
make it equal; and that the most apparently
hyperbolical language used by penitents, in de¬
scribing their remorse^ may be justified by the
principle of association.
At this step in our progress, it is proper to ob¬
serve, that a most important consideration has
escaped Hartley, as well as every other philoso¬
pher. 1 The language of all mankind implies that
the moral faculty, whatever it may be, and from
what origin soever it may spring, is intelligibly
and properly spoken of as Ojse. It is as com¬
mon in mind as in matter for a compound to
have properties not to be found in any of its con¬
stituent parts. The truth of this proposition is
as certain in the human feelings as in any ma¬
terial combination. It is therefore easily under¬
stood, that originally separate feelings may be so
perfectly blended by a process performed in every
mind, that they can no longer be disjoined from
each other, but must always co-operate, and thus
reach the only union which we can conceive.
The sentiment of Moral Approbation, formed by
association out of antecedent affections, may be¬
come so perfectly independent of them, that we
are no longer conscious of the means by which
it was formed, and never can in practice repeat,
though we may in theory perceive, the process
by which it was generated. It is in that mature
and sound state of our nature that our emotions
at the view of Right and Wrong are ascribed to
Conscience. But why, it may be asked, do these
feelings, rather than others, run into each other,
and constitute Conscience ? The answer seems
to be what has already been intimated in the ob¬
servations on Butler. The affinity between these
feelings consists in this, that while all other
feelings relate to outward objects, they alone
contemplate exclusively the dispositions and
actions of voluntary agents. When they are
completely transferred from objects, and even
persons, to dispositions and actions, they are
fitted, by the perfect coincidence of their aim, for
combining to form that one faculty which is di¬
rected only to that aim.
The words Duty and Virtue, and the word
Ought, which most perfectly denotes Duty, but is
also connected with Virtue, in every well-consti¬
tuted mind, in this state become the fit language
of the acquired, perhaps, but universally and ne¬
cessarily acquired, faculty of Conscience. Some
account of its peculiar nature has been attempted
in the remarks on Butler;—for others a fitter oc¬
casion will occur hereafter. Some light may how¬
ever now be thrown on the subject by a short state¬
ment of the hitherto unobserved distinction be¬
tween the moral sentiments and another class of
feelings with which they have some qualities in
common. The pleasures (so called) of Imagina¬
tion appear, at least in most cases, to originate in
association. But it is not till the original cause of
the gratification is obliterated from the mind, that
they acquire their proper character. Order and
proportion may be at first chosen for their con¬
venience : it is not until they are admired for
their own sake that they become objects ol taste.
Though all the proportions for which a horse
is valued may be indications of speed, safety,
strength, and health, it is not the less true that
they only can be said to admire the animal for
his beauty, who leave such considerations out of
the account while they admire. The pleasure of
contemplation in these particulars of nature and
art becomes universal and immediate, being
entirely detached from all regard to individual
beings. It contemplates neither use nor interest.
1 See supra, section on Butler.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
369
In this important particular the pleasures of
imagination agree with the moral sentiments.
Hence the application of the same language to
both in ancient and modern times. Hence also
it arises that they may contemplate the very
same qualities and objects. There is certainly
much beauty in the softer virtues—much gran¬
deur in the soul of a Hero or a Martyr. But
the essential distinction still remains. The
purest moral taste contemplates these qualities
only with quiescent delight or reverence. It has
no further view;—it points towards no action.
Conscience, on the contrary, containing in it a
pleasure in the prospect of doing right, and an
ardent desire to act well, having for its sole
object the dispositions and acts of voluntary
agents, is not, like moral taste, satisfied with
passive contemplation, hut constantly tends to
act on the will and conduct of the man. Moral
taste may aid it, may be absorbed into it, and
usually contributes its part to the formation of
the moral faculty; but it is distinct from that
faculty, and may be disproportioned to it. Con¬
science, being by its nature confined to mental
dispositions and voluntary acts, is of necessity
excluded from the ordinary consideration of all
things antecedent to these dispositions. The
circumstances from which such states of mind
may arise, are most important objects of con¬
sideration for the understanding; but they are
without the sphere of conscience, which never
ascends beyond the heart of the man. It is thus
that in the eye of conscience- man becomes ame¬
nable to its authority for all his inclinations as
well as deeds ; that some of them are approved,
loved, and revered; and that all the outward
eifects of disesteem, contempt, or moral anger,
are felt to be the just lot of others.
But, to return to Hartley, from this perhaps
intrusive statement of what does not properly
belong to him: He represents all the social af¬
fections of gratitude, veneration, and love, in¬
spired by the virtues of our fellow-men, as ca¬
pable of being transferred by association to the
transcendent and unmingled goodness of the
Ruler of the world, and thus to give rise to
piety, to which he gives the name of the theopa-
thetic affection. This principle, like all the for-
mer m the mental series, is gradually detached
diss. ii.
from the trunk on which it grew: it takes sepa¬
rate root, and may altogether overshadow the
parent stock. As such a being cannot be con¬
ceived without the most perfect and constant re¬
ference to his goodness, so piety may not only
become a part of conscience, but its governing
and animating principle, which, after long lend¬
ing its own energy and authority to every other,
is at last described by our philosopher as swal¬
lowing up all of them in order to perform the
same functions more infallibly.
In every stage of this progress we are taught t
by Dr Hartley that a new product appears,
which becomes perfectly distinct from the ele¬
ments which formed it, which may be utterly
dissimilar to them, and may attain any degree
of vigour, however superior to theirs. Thus the
objects of the private desires disappear when we
are employed in the pursuit of our lasting wel¬
fare; that which was first sought only as a means,
may come to be pursued as an end, and prefer¬
red to the original end; the good opinion of our
fellows becomes more valued than the benefits
for which it was at first courted ; a man is ready
to sacrifice his life for him who has shown ge¬
nerosity, even to others ; and persons otherwise
of common character are capable of cheerfully
marching in a forlorn hope, or of almost instinc¬
tively leaping into the sea to save the life of an
entire stranger. These last acts, often of almost
unconscious virtue, so familiar to the soldier and
the sailor, so unaccountable on certain systems
of philosophy, often occur without a thought of
applause and reward; too quickly for the thought
of the latter, too obscurely for the hope of the
former; and they are of such a nature that no
man could be impelled to them by the mere ex¬
pectation of either.
The gratitude, sympathy, resentment, and
shame, which are the principal constituent parts
of the Moral Sense, thus lose their separate
agency, and constitute an entirely new faculty,
co-extensive with all the dispositions and actions
of voluntary agents; though some of them are
more predominant in particular cases of moral
sentiment than others, and though the aid of all
continues to be necessary in their original cha¬
racter, as subordinate but distinct motives of ac¬
tion. Nothing more evidently points out the
8 A
370
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
distinction of the Hartleian system from all sys¬
tems called selfish, not to say its superiority in
respect to disinterestedness over all moral sys¬
tems before Butler and Hutcheson, than that
excellent part of it which relates to the Rule of
Life. The various principles of human action
rise in value according to the order in which
they spring up after each other. We can then
only be in a state of as much enjoyment as we
are evidently capable of attaining, when we
prefer interest to the original gratifications—
honour to interest—the pleasures of imagination
to those of sense—the dictates of conscience to
pleasure, interest, and reputation—the well¬
being of fellow-creatures to our own indulgences;
in a word, when we pursue moral good and
social happiness chiefly and for their own sake.
“ With self-interest,” says Hartley, somewhat
inaccurately in language, <£ man must begin.
He may end in self-annihilation. Theopathy, or
piety, although the last result of the purified and
exalted sentiments, may at length swallow up
every other principle, and absorb the whole
man.” Even if this last doctrine should he
an exaggeration unsuited to our present con¬
dition, it will the more strongly illustrate the
compatibility, or rather the necessary connec¬
tion, of this theory with the existence and power
of perfectly disinterested principles of human
action.
It is needless to remark on the secondary and
auxiliary causes which contribute to the forma¬
tion of moral sentiment; education, imitation,
general opinion, laws and government. They
all presuppose the moral faculty : in an improved
state of society they contribute powerfully to
strengthen it, and on some occasions they en¬
feeble, distort, and maim it; but in all cases
they must themselves be tried by the test of an
ethical standard.
The value of this doctrine will not be essen¬
tially affected by supposing a greater number
of original principles than those assumed by Dr
Hartley. The principle of association applies as
much to a greater as to a smaller number. It
is a quality common to it with all theories, that
the more simplicity it reaches consistently with
truth, the more perfect it becomes. Causes are
not to be multiplied without necessity. If by a
considerable multiplication of primary desires
the law of association were lowered nearly to
the level of an auxiliary agent, the philosophy
of human nature would still be under indelible
obligations to the philosopher who, by his for¬
tunate error, rendered the importance of that
great principle obvious and conspicuous.
ABRAHAM TUCKER.1
It has been the remarkable fortune of this
writer to have been more prized by the culti¬
vators of the same subjects, and more disregard¬
ed by the generality even of those who read
books on such matters, than perhaps any other
philosopher.2 He had many of the qualities
which might be expected in an affluent country
gentleman, living in a privacy undisturbed by
political zeal, and with a leisure unbroken by
the calls of a profession, at a time when Eng¬
land had not entirely renounced her old taste
for metaphysical speculation. He was naturally
endowed, not indeed with more than ordinary
acuteness or sensibility, nor with a high degree
of reach and range of mind, but with a singular
capacity for careful observation and original re¬
flection, and with a fancy perhaps unmatched in
producing various and happy illustration. The
most observable of his moral qualities appear to
have been prudence and cheerfulness, good-na¬
ture and easy temper. The influence of his si¬
tuation and character is visible in his writings.
Indulging his own tastes and fancies, like most
English squires of his time, he became, like
1 Born in 1705; died in 1774.
2 ,U ^ ha.ve found in this writer more original thinking and observation upon the several subjects that he has taken in
hand than in any other, not to say than in all others put together. His talent also for illustration is unrivalled.” (Paley,
Preface \.o Moral and Political Philosophy.) See the excellent preface to an abridgement, by Mr Hazlitt, of Tucker’s work,
published in London in 1807- May I venture to refer also to my own discourse on the Law of Nature and Nations, London,
1799. Mr Stewart treats Tucker and Hartley with unwonted harshness.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
371
many of them, a sort of humourist. Hence
much of his originality and independence; hence
the boldness with which he openly employs il¬
lustrations from homely objects. He wrote to
please himself more than the public. He had
too little regard for readers, either to sacrifice
his sincerity to them, or to curb his own pro¬
lixity, repetition, and egotism, from the fear of
fatiguing them. Hence he became as loose, as
rambling, and as much an egotist as Montaigne;
but not so agreeably so, notwithstanding a con¬
siderable resemblance of genius; because he
wrote on subjects where disorder and egotism
are unseasonable, and for readers whom they
disturb instead of amusing. His prolixity at
last increased itself, when his work became so
long, that repetition in the latter parts partly
arose from forgetfulness of the former; and
though his freedom from slavish deference to
general opinion is very commendable, it must be
owned, that his want of a -wholesome fear of the
public renders the perusal of a work which is
extremely interesting, and even amusing in most
of its parts, on the whole a laborious task. He
was by early education a believer in Christian¬
ity, if not by natural character religious. His
calm good sense and accommodating temper led
him rather to explain established doctrines in a
manner agreeable to his philosophy, than to as¬
sail them. Hence he was represented as a time¬
server by free-thinkers, and as a heretic by the
orthodox.1 Living in a country where the se¬
cure tranquillity flowing from the Revolution
was gradually drawing forth all mental activity
towards practical pursuits and outward objects,
he hastened from the rudiments of mental and
moral philosophy, to those branches of it which
touch the business of men.2 Had he recast
without changing his thoughts,—had he de¬
tached those ethical observations for which he
had so peculiar a vocation, from the disputes of
his country and his day,—he might have thrown
many of his chapters into their proper form of
essays, which might have been compared, though
not likened, to those of Hume. But the coun¬
try gentleman, philosophic as he was, had too
much fondness for his own humours to engage
in a course of drudgery and deference. It may,
however, be confidently added, on the authority
of all those who have fairly made the experi¬
ment, that whoever, unfettered by a previous
system, undertakes the labour necessary to dis¬
cover and relish the high excellencies of this
metaphysical Montaigne, wall find his toil light¬
ened as he proceeds, by a growing indulgence,
if not partiality, for the foibles of the humourist;
and at last rewarded, in a greater degree per¬
haps than by any other writer on mixed and
applied philosophy, by being led to commanding
stations and new points of view, whence the
mind of a moralist can hardly fail to catch some
fresh prospects of nature and duty.
It is in mixed, not in pure philosophy, that
his superiority consists. In the part of his
work which relates to the intellect, he has
adopted much from Hartley, hiding but ag¬
gravating the offence by a change of technical
terms ; and he was ungrateful enough to coun¬
tenance the vulgar sneer which involves the
mental analysis of that philosopher in the ridi¬
cule to which his physiological hypothesis is
liable.3 Thus, for the Hartleian term Associa¬
tion he substitutes that of Translation, when he
adopts the same theory of the principles which
move the mind to action. In the practical and
applicable part of that inquiry he indeed far
surpasses Hartley; and it is little to add, that
he unspeakably exceeds that bare and naked
thinker in the useful as well as admirable facul¬
ty of illustration. In the strictly theoretical
1 This disposition to compromise and accommodation, which is discoverable in Paley, was carried to its utmost length by
Mr Hey, a man of much acuteness, Professor of Divinity at Cambridge. .
2 Perhaps no philosopher ever stated more justly, more naturally, or more modestly than t ucker, the ruling maxim or
his life. “ My thoughts,” says he, “ have taken a turn from my earliest youth towards searching into the foundations and
measures of right and wrong; my love for retirement has furnished me with continual leisure; and the exercise of my
reason has been my daily employment.” . u j c • c i
_3 Light of Nature, I. c. xviii. of which the conclusion may be pointed out as a specimen of perhaps unmatched fruitfulness,
vivacity, and felicity of illustration. The admirable sense of the conclusion of chap., xxv. seems to have suggested 1 aley s
good chapter on Happiness. The alteration of Plato’s comparison of reason to a charioteer, and the passions to the horses,
m chap. xxvi. is of characteristic and transcendent excellence.
372
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
part Lis exposition is considerably fuller; but
the defect of his genius becomes conspicuous
when he handles a very general principle. The
very term Translation ought to have kept up in
his mind a steady conviction that the secondary
motives to action become as independent, and
seek their own objects as exclusively, as the
primary principles. His own examples are rich
in proofs of this important truth. But there is
a slippery descent in the Theory of Human Na¬
ture, by which he, like most of his forerunners,
slid unawares into selfishness. He was not pre¬
served from this fall by seeing that all the deli¬
berate principles which have self for their object
are themselves of secondary formation ; and he
was led to the general error by the notion that
Pleasure, or, as he calls it, Satisfaction, was the
original and sole object of all appetites and de¬
sires ; confounding this with the true but very
different proposition, that the attainment of all
the objects of appetite and desire is productive
of pleasure. He did not see that, without pre¬
supposing Desires, the word Pleasure would
have no signification; and that the representa.
tions by which he was seduced would leave only
one appetite or desire in human nature. He had
no adequate and constant conception, that the
translation of Desire from the end to the means
occasioned the formation of a new passion,
which is perfectly distinct from, and altogether
independent of, the original desire. Too fre¬
quently (for he was neither obstinate nor uni¬
form in error) he considered these translations
as accidental defects in human nature, not as
the appointed means of supplying it with its
variety of active principles. He was too apt
to speak as if the selfish elements were not de¬
stroyed in the new combination, but remain¬
ed still capable of being recalled, when conve¬
nient, like the links in a chain of reasoning,
which we pass over from forgetfulness, or for
brevity. Take him all in all, however, the
neglect of his writings is the strongest proof
of the disinclination of the English nation,
for the last half century, to Metaphysical Phi¬
losophy. 1
WILLIAM PALEY.2
This excellent writer, who, after Clarke and
Butler, ought to be ranked among the brightest
ornaments of the English church in the eigh¬
teenth century, is, in the history of philosophy,
naturally placed after Tucker, to whom, with
praiseworthy liberality, he owns his extensive
obligations. It is a mistake to suppose that he
owed his system to Hume, a thinker too refined,
and a writer perhaps too elegant, to have natu¬
rally attracted him. A coincidence in the prin¬
ciple of utility, common to both with so many
other philosophers, affords no sufficient ground
for the supposition. Had he been habitually in¬
fluenced by Mr Hume, who has translated so
many of the dark and crabbed passages of But¬
ler into his own transparent as well as beautiful
language, it is not possible to suppose that such
a mind as that of Paley should have fallen into
those principles of gross selfishness of which Mr
Hume is a uniform and zealous antagonist.
The natural frame of Paley’s understanding
fitted it more for business and the world than
for philosophy; and he accordingly enjoyed
with considerable relish the few opportunities
which the latter part of his life afforded of tak¬
ing a part in the affairs of his county as a ma¬
gistrate. Penetration and shrewdness, firm¬
ness and coolness, a vein of pleasantry, fruitful
though somewhat unrefined, with an original
homeliness and significancy of expression, were
1 Much of Tucker’s chapter on Pleasure, and of Paley’s on Happiness (both of which are invaluable), is contained in the
passage of The Traveller, of which the following couplet expresses the main object:
“ Unknown to them when sensual pleasures cloy,
“ To fill the languid pause with finer joy.”
“ An honest man,” says Mr Hume, “ has the frequent satisfaction of seeing knaves betrayed by their own maxims.’
(Enquiry into Morals.)
“ I used often to laugh at your honest simple neighbour Flamborough, and one way or another generally cheated him once
a year. Yet still the honest man went forward without suspicion, and grew rich, while I still continued tricksy and cun-
ning, and was poor, without the consolation of being honest.” (Vicar of Wakefield, chap, xxvi.)
* Born in 1743 ; died in 1805.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
373
perhaps more remarkable in his conversation
than the restraints of authorship and profession
allowed them to he in his writings. Grateful
remembrance brings this assemblage of qualities
with unfaded colours before the mind at the
present moment, after the long interval of twen¬
ty-eight years. His taste for the common busi¬
ness and ordinary amusements of life fortunate¬
ly gave a zest to the company which his neigh¬
bourhood chanced to yield, without rendering
him insensible to the pleasures of intercourse
with more enlightened society. The practical
bent of his nature is visible in the language of
bis writings, which, on practical matters, is as
precise as the nature of the subject requires,
but, in his rare and reluctant efforts to rise to
first principles, becomes indeterminate and un¬
satisfactory ; though no man’s composition was
more free from the impediments which hinder a
writer’s meaning from being quickly and clearly
seen. He seldom distinguishes more exactly
than is required for palpable and direct useful¬
ness. He possessed that chastised acuteness of
discrimination, exercised on the affairs of men,
and habitually looking to a purpose beyond the
mere increase of knowledge, which forms the
character of a lawyer’s understanding, and
which is apt to render a mere lawyer too subtile
for the management of affairs, and yet too gross
for the pursuit of general truth. His style is as
near perfection in its kind as any in our lan¬
guage. Perhaps no words were ever more ex¬
pressive and illustrative than those in which he
represents the art of life to be that of rightly
“ setting our habits.”
The most original and ingenious of his writ¬
ings is the IIorcB Paulina. The Evidences of
Christianity are formed out of an admirable
translation of Butler’s Analogy, and a most skil¬
ful abridgement of Gardner’s Credibility of the
Gospel History. He may be said to have thus
given value to two works, of which the first was
scarcely intelligible to most of those who were
most desirous of profiting by it; and the second
soon wearies out the greater part of readers,
though the few who are more patient have al¬
most always been gradually won over to feel
pleasure in a display of knowledge, probity,
charity, and meekness, unmatched by an avow¬
ed advocate in a case deeply interesting his
warmest feelings. His Natural Theology is the
wonderful work of a man who, after sixty, had
studied anatomy in order to write it; and it
could only have been surpassed by a man who,
to great originality of conception and clearness
of exposition, added the advantage of a high
place in the first class of physiologists.1
It would be unreasonable here to say much of
a work which is in the bands of so many as his
Moral and Political Philosophy. A very few re¬
marks on one or two parts of it may be suffi¬
cient to estimate bis value as a moralist, and to
show his defects as a metaphysician. His ge¬
neral account of virtue may indeed be chosen
for both purposes. The manner in which he
deduces the necessary tendency of all virtuous
actions to the general happiness, from the good¬
ness of the Divine Lawgiver, though the prin¬
ciple be not, as has already more than once ap¬
peared, peculiar to him, but rather common to
most religious philosophers, is characterized by
a clearness and vigour which have never been
surpassed. It is indeed nearly, if not entirely,
an identical proposition, that a Being of unmixed
benevolence will prescribe those laws only to his
creatures which contribute to their wellbeing.
When we are convinced that a course of conduct
is generally beneficial to all men, we cannot
help considering it as acceptable to a benevo¬
lent Deity. The usefulness of actions is the
mark set on them by the Supreme Legislator,
by which reasonable beings discover it to be His
will that such actions should be done. In this
apparently unanswerable deduction it is partly
admitted, and universally implied, that the prin¬
ciples of right and wrong may be treated apart
from the manifestation of them in the Scriptures.
If it were otherwise, how could men of perfectly
different religions deal or reason with each other
on moral subjects? How could they regard
rights and duties as subsisting between them ?
To what common principles could they appeal
> See Animal Mechanics, by Mr Charles Bell, published by the Society for Useful Knowledge.
374
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
in their differences ? Even the Polytheists them¬
selves, those worshippers of
Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust,
Whose attributes are rage, revenge, or lust,
by a happy inconsistency are compelled, how¬
ever irregularly and imperfectly, to ascribe
some general enforcement of the moral code to
their divinities. If there were no foundation
for morality antecedent to revealed religion, we
should want that important test of the conformi¬
ty of a revelation to pure morality, by which its
claim to a divine origin is to be tried. The in¬
ternal evidence of religion necessarily presup¬
poses such a standard. The Christian contrasts
the precepts of the Koran with the pure and
benevolent morality of the Gospel. The Maho¬
metan claims, with justice, a superiority over
the Hindoo, inasmuch as the Mussulman reli¬
gion inculcates the moral perfection of one Su¬
preme Ruler of the world. The ceremonial and
exclusive character of Judaism has ever been
regarded as an indication that it was intend¬
ed to pave the way for a universal religion,—a
morality seated in the heart, and a worship of
sublime simplicity. These discussions would
be impossible, unless morality were previously
proved or granted to exist. Though the science
of Ethics is thus far independent, it by no means
follows that there is any equality, or that
there may not be the utmost inequality, in the
moral tendency of religious systems. The most
ample scope is still left for the zeal and activity
of those who seek to spread important truth.
But it is absolutely essential to ethical science
that it should contain principles, the authority
of which must be recognised by men of every
conceivable variety of religious opinion.
The peculiarities of Paley’s mind are dis¬
coverable in the comparison, or rather contrast,
between the practical chapter on Happiness, and
the philosophical portion of the chapter on Vir¬
tue. “ Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in
obedience to the will of God, and for the sake
of everlasting happiness.”1 It is not perhaps
very important to observe, that these words,
which he offers as “ a definition,” ought in pro¬
priety to have been called a proposition; bat
it is much more necessary to say that they con¬
tain a false account of virtue. According to
this doctrine, every action not done for the sake
of the agent’s happiness is vicious. Now, it is
plain that an act cannot be said to be done for
the sake of any thing which is not present to
the mind of the agent at the moment of action.
It is a contradiction in terms to affirm that a
man acts for the sake of any object, of which,
however it may be the necessary consequence of
his act, he is not at the time fully aware. The
unfelt consequences of his act can no more in¬
fluence his will than its unknown consequences.
Nay, further, a man is only with any propriety
said to act for the sake of his chief object ; nor
can he with entire correctness be said to act for
the sake of any thing but his sole object. So
that it is a necessary consequence of Paley’s
proposition, that every act which flows from
generosity or benevolence is a vice. So also of
every act of obedience to the will of God, if it
arises from any motive but a desire of the re¬
ward which he will bestow. Any act of obe¬
dience influenced by gratitude, and affection,
and veneration towards supreme benevolence
and perfection, is so far imperfect; and if it
arises solely from these motives it becomes a
vice. It must be owned, that this excellent and
most enlightened man has laid the foundations
of religion and virtue in a more intense and ex¬
clusive selfishness than was avowed by the Ca¬
tholic enemies of Fenelon, when they persecuted
him for his doctrine of a pure and disinterested
love of God.
In another province, of a very subordinate
kind, the disposition of Paley to limit his princi¬
ples to his own time and country, and to look at
them merely as far as they are calculated to
amend prevalent vices and errors, betrayed him
into narrow and false views. His chapter on
what he calls the Law of Honour is unjust, even
in its own small sphere, because it supposes ho¬
nour to allow what it does not forbid; though the
truth be, that the vices enumerated by him are
only not forbidden by honour, because they are
1 Palev, book i. chap. vii.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
375
not within its jurisdiction. He considers it as
“ a system of rules constructed by people of
fashion—a confused and transient mode of
expression, which may he understood with diffi¬
culty by our posterity, and which cannot now be
exactly rendered perhaps in any other language.
The subject, however, thus narrowed and low¬
ered, is neither unimportant in practice, nor un¬
worthy of the consideration of the moral philo¬
sopher. Though all mankind honour virtue and
despise vice, the degree of respect or contempt is
often far from being proportioned to the place
which virtues and vices occupy in a just system
of Ethics. Wherever higher honour is bestowed
on one moral quality than on others of equal or
greater moral value, what is called a point of ho¬
nour may he said to exist. It is singular that so
shrewd an observer as Paley should not have
observed a law of honour far more permanent
than that which attracted his notice, in the feel¬
ings of Europe respecting the conduct of men
and women. Cowardice is not so immoral as
cruelty, nor indeed so detestable, but it is more
despicable and disgraceful. The female point of
honour forbids indeed a great vice, but one not
so great as many others by which it is not vio¬
lated. It is easy enough to see, that where we
are strongly prompted to a virtue by a natural
impulse, we love the man who is constantly ac¬
tuated by the amiable sentiment, but vre do not
consider that which is done without difficulty as
requiring or deserving admiration and distinc¬
tion. The kind affections are their own rich re¬
ward, and they are the object of affection to
others. To encourage kindness by praise would
he to insult it, besides its effect in producing
counterfeits. It is for the conquest of fear, it
would be still more for the conquest of resent¬
ment, if that were not, wherever it is real, the
cessation of a state of mental agony, that the
applause of mankind is reserved. Observations
of a similar nature will easily occur to every
reader respecting the point of honour in the
other sex. The conquest of natural frailties, es¬
pecially in a case of far more importance to
mankind than is at first sight obvious, is well dis¬
tinguished as an object of honour, and the con¬
trary vice is punished by shame. Honour is not
wasted on those who abstain from acts which are
punished by the law. These acts may be avoided
without a pure motive. Wherever a virtue is
easily performed by good men—wherever it is
its nature to be attended by delight—wherever
its outward observance is so necessary to society
as to be enforced by punishment—it is not the
proper object of honour. Honour and shame,
therefore, may be reasonably dispensed, without
being strictly proportioned to the intrinsic mo¬
rality of actions, if the inequality of their distri¬
bution contributes to the general equipoise of
the whole moral system.
A wide disproportion, however, or indeed any
disproportion not justifiable on moral grounds,
would be a depravation of the moral principle.
Duelling is among us a disputed case, though
the improvement of manners has rendered it so
much more infrequent, that it is likely in time
to lose its support from opinion. Those who
excuse individuals for yielding to a false point of
honour, as in the suicides of the Greeks and
Romans, may consistently blame the faulty prin¬
ciple, and rejoice in its destruction. The shame
fixed on a Hindoo widow of rank who volun¬
tarily survives her husband, is regarded by all
other nations with horror.
There is room for great praise and some blame
in other parts of Paley’s works. His political
opinions were those generally adopted by mode¬
rate whigs in his own age. His language on the
Revolution of 1688 may be very advantageously
compared, both in precision and in generous bold¬
ness,1 to that of Blackstone, a great master of
classical and harmonious composition, but a fee¬
ble reasoner and a confused thinker, whose
writings are not exempt from the taint of sla¬
vishness.
It cannot be denied that Paley was sometimes
rather a lax moralist, especially on public duties.
1 “ Government may be too secure. The greatest tyrants have been those whose titles were the most unquestioned.
Whenever, therefore, the opinion of right becomes too predominant and superstitious, it is abated by breaking the custom.
Thus the Revolution broke the custom of succession, and thereby moderated, both in the prince and in t e peop e, ose
lofty notions of hereditary right, which in the one were become a continual incentive to tyranny, and disposed the o lei o
invite servitude, by undue compliances and dangerous concessions.” (Paley, book vi. chap, li.)
376
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
It is a sin which easily besets men of strong good
sense, little enthusiasm, and much experience.
They are naturally led to lower their precepts to
the level of their expectations. They see that
higher pretensions often produce less good, to
say nothing of the hypocrisy, extravagance, and
turbulence, to which they lend some colour. As
those who claim more from men often gain less,
it is natural for more sober and milder casuists
to present a more accessible virtue to their fol¬
lowers. It was thus that the Jesuits began, till,
strongly tempted by their perilous station as
the moral guides of the powerful, some of them
by degrees fell into that absolute licentiousness
for which all, not without injustice, have been
cruelly immortalized by Pascal. Indulgence,
which is a great virtue in judgment concerning
the actions of others, is too apt, when blended
in the same system with the precepts of mora¬
lity, to be received as a licence for our own of¬
fences. Accommodation, wuthout w^hich society
would be painful, and arduous affairs would be¬
come impracticable, is more safely imbibed from
temper and experience, than taught in early and
systematic instruction. The middle region be¬
tween laxity and rigour is hard to be fixed, and
it is still harder steadily to remain within its
boundaries. Whatever may be thought of Pa-
ley’s observations on political influence and ec¬
clesiastical subscription, as temperaments and
mitigations which may preserve us from harsh
judgment, they are assuredly not well qualified
to form a part of that discipline which ought to
breathe into the opening souls of youth, at the
critical period of the formation of character,
those inestimable virtues of sincerity, of inte¬
grity, of independence, which will even guide
them more safely through life than mere pru¬
dence, while they provide an inward fountain of
pure delight, immeasurably more abundant than
all the outward sources of precarious and perish¬
able pleasure.
JEREMY BENTHAM.
The general scheme of this Dissertation would
be a sufficient reason for omitting the name of
a living writer. The devoted attachment and
invincible repugnance which an impartial esti¬
mate of Mr Bentham has to encounter on either
side, are a strong inducement not to deviate
from that scheme in his case. But the most
brief sketch of ethical controversy in England
would he imperfect without it; and perhaps the
utter hopelessness of any expedient for satisfy¬
ing his followers, or softening his opponents,
may enable a writer to look steadily and solely
at what he believes to be the dictates of truth
and justice. He who has spoken of former phi¬
losophers with unreserved freedom, ought per¬
haps to subject his courage and honesty to the
severest test by an attempt to characterize such
a contemporary. Should the very fewT who are
at once enlightened and unbiassed be of opinion
that his firmness and equity have stood this
trial, they will be the more disposed to trust his
fairness where the exercise of that quality is
more easy.
The disciples of Mr Bentham are more like
the hearers of an Athenian philosopher than the
pupils of a modern professor, or the cool prose¬
lytes of a modern writer. They are in general
men of competent age, of superior understand¬
ing, who voluntarily embrace the laborious study
of useful and noble sciences; who derive their
opinions not so much from the cold perusal of
his writings, as from familiar converse with a
master from whose lips these opinions are re¬
commended by simplicity, disinterestedness, ori¬
ginality, and vivacity; aided rather than im¬
peded by foibles not unamiable, enforced of late
by the growing authority of years and of fame,
and at all times strengthened by that undoubt¬
ing reliance on his own judgment which mightily
increases the ascendant of such a man over those
wdio approach him. As he and they deserve
the credit of braving vulgar prejudices, so they
must be content to incur the imputation of fall¬
ing into the neighbouring vices of seeking dis¬
tinction by singularity ; of clinging to opinions
because they are obnoxious; of wantonly wound¬
ing the most respectable feelings of mankind;
of regarding an immense display of method and
nomenclature as a sure token of a corresponding
increase of know ledge; and of considering them-
DISSERTATION SECOND.
377
selves as a chosen few, whom an initiation into
the most secret mysteries of philosophy entitles
to look down with pity, if not contempt, on the
profane multitude. Viewed with aversion or
dread by the public, they become more bound
to each other and to their master; while they
are provoked into the use of language which
more and more exasperates opposition to them,
A hermit in the greatest of cities, seeing only
his disciples, and indignant that systems of go¬
vernment and law which he believes to be per¬
fect are disregarded at once by the many and
the powerful, Mr Bentham lias at length been
betrayed into the most un philosophical hypothe¬
sis, that all the ruling bodies who guide the
community have conspired to stifle and defeat
his discoveries. He is too little acquainted with
doubts to believe the honest doubts of others,
and he is too angry to make allowance for their
prejudices and habits. He has embraced the
most extreme party in practical politics; mani¬
festing more dislike and contempt towards those
who are more moderate supporters of popular
principles than towards their most inflexible op¬
ponents. To the unpopularity of his philoso¬
phical and political doctrines he has added the
more general and lasting obloquy which arises
from an unseemly treatment of doctrines and
principles which, if there were no other motives
for reverential deference, even a regard to the
feelings of the best men requires to be approach¬
ed with decorum and respect.
Fifty-three years have passed since the publi¬
cation of Mr Bentham’s first work, Fragment
on Government,—a considerable octavo volume,
employed in the examination of a short para¬
graph of Blackstone,—unmatched in acute hy¬
percriticism, but conducted with a severity
which leads to an unjust estimate of the writer
criticised, till the like experiment be repeated on
other writings. It was a waste of extraordinary
power to employ it in pointing out flaws and
patches in the robe occasionally stolen from the
philosophical schools, which hung loosely and
unbecomingly on the elegant commentator. This
volume, and especially the preface, abounds in
fine, original, and just observation ; it contains
the germs of most of his subsequent productions,
and it is an early example of that disregard for
the method, proportions, and occasion of a writ¬
ing which, with all common readers, deeply af¬
fects its power of interesting or instructing.
Two years after, he published a most excellent
tract on The Hard Labour Bill, which, concur¬
ring with the spirit excited by Howard’s inqui¬
ries, laid the foundation of just reasoning on Re¬
formatory Punishment. The Letters on Usury*
are perhaps the best specimen of the exhaustive
discussion of a moral or political question, leav¬
ing no objection, however feeble, unanswered,
and no difficulty, however small, unexplained ;
remarkable also for the clearness and spirit of
the style, for the full exposition which suits them
to all intelligent readers, for the tender and skilful
hand with which prejudice is touched, and for the
urbanity of his admirable apology for projectors,
addressed to Dr Smith, whose temper and manner
he seems for a time to have imbibed. The Intro¬
duction to the Principles of Morals and. Politics,
printed before the Letters, but published after
them, was the first sketch of his system, and is
still the only account of it by himself.
The great merit of this work, and of his other
writings in relation to Jurisprudence properly so
called, is not within our present scope. To the
Roman jurists belongs the praise of having al¬
lotted a separate portion of their Digest to the
signification of the words of most frequent use
1 They were addressed to Mr George Wilson, who retired from the English bar to his native country, and died at Edin¬
burgh in 1816; an early friend of Mr Bentham, and afterwards an intimate friend of Lord Ellenborough, Sir Vicary Gibbs,
and of all the most eminent of his professional contemporaries. The rectitude of judgment, purity of heart, elevation of ho¬
nour, the sternness only in integrity, the scorn of baseness, and indulgence towards weakness, which were joined in him
with a gravity exclusive neither of feeling nor of pleasantry, contributed still more than his abilities and attainments of va¬
rious sorts, to a moral authority with his friends, and in his profession, which few men more amply possessed, or more use¬
fully exercised. The same character, somewhat softened, and the same influence, distinguished his closest friend, the late
Mr Lens. Both were inflexible and incorruptible friends of civil and religious liberty, and both knew how to reconcile the
warmest zeal for that sacred cause, with a charity towards their opponents, which partisans, often more violent than steady,
treated as lukewarm. The present writer hopes that the good-natured reader will excuse him for having thus, perhaps un¬
seasonably, bestowed heartfelt commendation on those who were above the pursuit of praise, and the remembrance cf whose
good opinion and good-will help to support him under a deep sense of faults and vices.
DISS. II. 3 B
378
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
in law and legal discussion.1 Bentliam not only-
first perceived and taught the great value of an
introductory section, composed of definitions of
general terms, as subservient to brevity and pre¬
cision in every part of a code, but he also dis¬
covered the unspeakable importance of natural
arrangement in jurisprudence, by rendering the
mere place of a proposed law in such an arrange¬
ment a short and easy test of the fitness of the
proposal.2 But here he does not distinguish be¬
tween the value of arrangement as scaffolding,
and the inferior convenience of its being the very
frame-work of the structure. Mr Bentham, in¬
deed, is much more remarkable for laying down
desirable rules for the determination of rights,
and the punishment of wrongs, in general, than
for weighing the various circumstances which
require them to be modified in different countries
and times in order to render them either more
useful, more easily introduced, more generally
respected, or more certainly executed. The art
of legislation consists in thus applying the prin¬
ciples of jurisprudence to the situation, wants,
interests, feelings, opinions, and habits, of each
distinct community at any given time. It bears
the same relation to jurisprudence which the
mechanical arts bear to pure Mathematics.
Many of these considerations serve to show, that
the sudden establishment of new codes can sel¬
dom be practicable or effectual for their purpose;
and that reformations, though founded on the
principles of jurisprudence, ought to be not
only adapted to the peculiar interests of a people,
but engrafted on their previous usages, and
brought into harmony with those national dis¬
positions on which the execution of laws de¬
pends.3 The Romans, under Justinian, adopted
at least the true principle, if they did not apply
it with sufficient freedom and boldness. They
considered the multitude of occasional laws, and
the still greater mass of usages, opinions, and
determinations, as the materials of legislation,
not precluding, but demanding a systematic ar¬
rangement of the whole by the supreme autho¬
rity. Had the arrangement been more scienti¬
fic, had there been a bolder examination and a
more free reform of many particular branches, a
model would have been offered for liberal imi¬
tation by modern lawgivers. It cannot be de¬
nied, without injustice and ingratitude, that Mr
Bentham has done more than any other wri¬
ter to rouse the spirit of juridical reforma¬
tion, which is now gradually examining every
part of law, and, when further progress is fa¬
cilitated by digesting the present laws, will
doubtless proceed to the improvement of all.
Greater praise it is given to few to earn. It
ought to satisfy Mr Bentham, for the disappoint¬
ment of hopes which were not reasonable, that
Russia should receive a code from him, or that
North America could be brought to renounce the
variety of her laws and institutions, on the single
authority of a foreign philosopher, whose opinions
had not worked their way either into legislation
or into general reception in his own country.
It ought also to dispose his followers to do fuller
justice to the Rom illy s and Broughams, with¬
out whose prudence and energy, as well as rea¬
son and eloquence, the best plans of reformation
must have continued a dead letter,—for whose
sake it might have been fit to reconsider the ob¬
loquy heaped on their profession, and to show
more general indulgence to all those whose chief
offence seems to consist in their doubts whether
sudden changes, almost always imposed by vio¬
lence on a community, be the surest road to
lasting improvement.
It is unfortunate that Ethical Theory, with
1 Digest, lib. 1. tit. 16. De Verborum Significatione.
See a beautiful article on Codification, in the Edinburgh Review, vol. XXTX. p. 217. It need no longer be concealed
, was contributed by Sir Samuel llomilly. The steadiness with which he held the balance in weighing the merits of
lus friend against his unfortunate defects, is an example of his union of the most commanding moral principle with a sensi¬
bility so warm, that, if it had been released from that stem authority, it would not so long have endured the coarseness and
roughness of human concerns. From the tenderness of his feelings, and from an anger never roused but by cruelty and base-
ness, as much as from his genius and his pure taste, sprung that original and characteristic eloquence, which was the hope of
the afflicted as well as the terror of the oppressor. If his oratory had not flowed so largely from this moral source, which
years do not dry up, he would not perhaps have been the only example of an orator who, after the age of sixty, daily increased
m polish, in vigour, and in splendour.
3 An excellent medium between those who absolutely require new codes, and those who obstinately adhere to ancient
usages, has been pointed out by M. Meyer, in his most justly celebrated work, Institutions Judiciaires des Princivaux Pays de
l Europe, tome I. Introduction, p. 8, !). La Have et Amst. 1819-23, 6 vols. 8vo.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
379
which we are now chiefly concerned, is not the
province in which Mr Bentham has reached the
most desirable distinction. It may be remarked,
both in ancient and in modern times, that what¬
ever modifications prudent followers may intro¬
duce into the system of an innovator, the prin¬
ciples of the Master continue to mould the ha¬
bitual dispositions, and to influence the practical
tendency of the School. Mr Bentham preaches
the principle of utility with the zeal of a disco¬
verer. Occupied more in reflection than in
reading, he knew not, or forgot, how often it
had been the basis, and how generally an essen¬
tial part, of moral systems.1 That in which
he really differs from others, is in the necessity
which he teaches, and the example which he sets,
of constantly bringing that principle before us.
This peculiarity appears to us to be his radical
error. In an attempt, of which the constitution
of human nature forbids the success, he seems
to us to have been led into fundamental errors
in moral theory, and to have given to his practi¬
cal doctrine a dangerous taint.
The confusion of moral approbation with the
moral qualities which are its objects, common to
Mr Bentham with many other philosophers, is
much more uniform and prominent in him than
in most others. This general error, already
mentioned at the opening of this Dissertation,
has led him more than others to assume, that be¬
cause the principle of utility forms a necessary
part of every moral theory, it ought therefore to
be the chief motive of human conduct. Now it
is evident that this assumption, rather tacitly
than avowedly made, is wholly gratuitous. No
practical conclusion can be deduced from the
principle, but that we ought to cultivate those
habitual dispositions which are the most effectual
motives to useful actions. But before a regard
to our own interest, or a desire to promote the wel-
lare of men in general, be allowed to be the ex¬
clusive, or even the chief regulators of human
conduct, it must be shown that they are the most
effectual motives to such useful actions. It is
demonstrated by experience that they are not.
It is even owned by the most ingenious writers
of Mr Bentham’s school, that desires which are
pointed to general and distant objects, although
they have their proper place and their due value,
are commonly very faint and ineffectual induce¬
ments to action. A theory founded on utility,
therefore, requires that we should cultivate, as
excitements to practice, those other habitual dis¬
positions which we know by experience to be
generally the source of actions beneficial to our¬
selves and our fellows; habits of feeling produc¬
tive of habits of virtuous conduct, and in their
turn strengthened by the re-action of these last.
What is the result of experience on the choice of
the objects of moral culture ? Beyond all dispute,
that we should labour to attain that state of mind
in which all the social affections are felt with the
utmost warmth, giving birth to more compre¬
hensive benevolence, but not supplanted by it;
when the moral sentiments most strongly ap¬
prove what is right and good, without being
perplexed by a calculation of consequences,
though not incapable of being gradually rectifi¬
ed by reason, whenever they are decisively prov¬
ed by experience not to correspond in some of
their parts to the universal and perpetual effects
of conduct. It is a false representation of hu¬
man nature to affirm that “ courage” is only
“ prudence.”2 They coincide in their effects,
and it is always prudent to be courageous. But
a man who fights because he thinks it more haz¬
ardous to yield, is not brave. He does not be¬
come brave till he feels cowardice to be base and
painful, and till he is no longer in need of any
aid from prudence. Even if it were the interest
of every man to be bold, it is clear that so cold
a consideration cannot prevail over the fear of
danger. Where it seems to do so, it must be
by the unseen power either of the fear of shame,
or of some other powerful passion, to which it
lends its name. It was long ago with striking
* See Notes and Illustrations, note V.
2 Mr Mill’s Analysis of the Human Mind, vol. II. p. 237- It would be unjust not to say that this book, partly perhaps
from a larger adoption of the principles of Hartley, holds out fairer opportunities of negotiation with natural feelings and
the doctrines of former philosophers, than any other production of the same school. But this very assertion about courage
clearly shows at least a forgetfulness that courage, even if it werte the offspring of prudence, would not for tnat reason be a
species of it.
380
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
justice observed by Aristotle, that be who ab¬
stains from present gratification, under a dis¬
tinct apprehension of its painful consequences,
is only prudent, and that he must acquire a dis¬
relish for excess on its own account, before be
deserves the name of a temperate man. It is
only when the means are firmly and unalterably
converted into ends, that the process of forming
the mind is completed. Courage may then seek,
instead of avoiding danger. Temperance may
prefer abstemiousness to indulgence. Prudence
itself may choose an orderly government of con¬
duct, according to certain rules, without regard
to the degree in which it promotes welfare.
Benevolence must desire the happiness of others,
to the exclusion of the consideration how far it
is connected with that of the benevolent agent;
and those alone can be accounted just who obey
the dictates of justice from having thoroughly
learned an habitual veneration for its strict rules
and for its larger precepts. In that complete
state the mind possesses no power of dissolving
the combinations of thought and feeling which
impel it to action. Nothing in this argument
turns on the difference between implanted and
acquired principles. As no man can cease, by
any act of his, to see distance, though the power
of seeing it be universally acknowledged to be
an acquisition, so no man has the power to ex¬
tinguish the affections and the moral sentiments,
however much they may be thought to be ac¬
quired, any more than that of eradicating the
bodily appetites. The best writers of Mr Ben-
tham’s school overlook the indissolubility of
these associations, and appear not to bear in
mind that their strength and rapid action con¬
stitute the perfect state of a moral agent.
The pursuit of our own general welfare, or of
that of mankind at large, though from their
vagueness and coldness they are unfit habitual
motives and unsafe ordinary guides of conduct,
yet perform functions of essential importance
in the moral system. The former, which we
call self-love, preserves the balance of all the
active principles which regard ourselves ulti¬
mately, and contributes to subject them to the
authority of the moral principles.1 The latter,
which is general benevolence, regulates in like
manner the equipoise of the narrower affections ;
quickens the languid, and checks the encroach¬
ing ; borrows strength from pity, and even from
indignation; receives some compensation, as it
enlarges, in the addition of beauty and grandeur,
for the weakness which arises from dispersion;
enables us to look on all men as brethren, and
overflows on every sentient being. The general
interest of mankind, in truth, almost solely af¬
fects us through the affections of benevolence
and sympathy; for the coincidence of general
with individual interest, even where it is certain,
is too dimly seen to produce any emotion which
can impel to, or restrain from action. As a gen¬
eral truth, its value consists in its completing
the triumph of morality, by demonstrating the
absolute impossibility of forming any theory of
human nature which does not preserve the su¬
periority of virtue over vice; a great, though
not a directly practical advantage.
The followers of Mr Bentham have carried to
an unusual extent the prevalent fault of the more
modern advocates of utility, who have dwelt so
exclusively on the outward advantages of virtue
as to have lost sight of the delight which is a part
of virtuous feeling, and of the beneficial influence
of good actions upon the frame of the mind.
“ Benevolence towards others,” says Mr Mill,
“ produces a return of benevolence from them.”8
The fact is true, and ought to be stated. But how
unimportant is it in comparison with that which
is passed over in silence, the pleasure of the affec¬
tion itself, which, if it could become lasting and
intense, would convert the heart into a heaven !
No one who has ever felt kindness, if he could
accurately recall his feelings, could hesitate about
their infinite superiority. The cause of the
general neglect of this consideration is, that it is
only when a gratification is something distinct
from a state of mind, that we can easily learn to
consider it as a pleasure. Hence the great error
respecting the affections, where the inherent de¬
light is not duly estimated, on account of that
very peculiarity of being a part of a state of mind,
1 See Notes and Illustrations, note W.
* Analysis of the Human Mind, vol. II-
DISSERTATION SECOND.
381
which renders it unspeakably more valuable as
independent of every thing without. The social
affections are the only principles of human nature
which have no direct pains. To have any of
these desires is to be in a state of happiness.
The malevolent passions have properly no
pleasures; for that attainment of their purpose
which is improperly so called, consists only in
healing or assuaging the torture which envy,
jealousy, and malice, inflict on the malignant
mind. It might with as much propriety be said
that the toothache and the stone have pleasures,
because their removal is followed by an agree¬
able feeling. These bodily disorders, indeed, are
often cured by the process which removes the
suffering; but the mental distempers of envy
and revenge are nourished by every act of odious
indulgence which for a moment suspends their
pain.
The same observation is applicable to every
virtuous disposition, though not so obviously as
to the benevolent affections. That a brave man
is, on the whole, far less exposed to danger than
a coward, is not the chief advantage of a courage¬
ous temper. Great dangers are rare; but the
constant absence of such painful and mortifying
sensations as those of fear, and the steady con¬
sciousness of superiority to what subdues ordi¬
nary men, are a perpetual source of inward en¬
joyment. No man who has ever been visited by
a gleam of magnanimity can place any outward
advantage of fortitude in comparison with the
feeling of being always able feaidessly to defend
a righteous cause.1 Even Humility, in spite of
first appearances, is a remarkable example. It
has of late been unwarrantably used to signify
that painful consciousness of inferiority which
is the first stage of envy.fl It is a term conse¬
crated in Christian ethics to denote that disposi¬
tion which, by inclining towards a modest esti¬
mate of our qualities, corrects the prevalent
tendency of human nature to overvalue our
merits and to overrate our claims. What can
be a less doubtful or a much more considerable
blessing than this constant sedative, which soothes
and composes the irritable passions of vanity and
pride ? What is more conducive to lasting peace
of mind than the consciousness of proficiency in
that most delicate species of equity which, in the
secret tribunal of conscience, labours to be im¬
partial in the comparison of ourselves with others?
What can so perfectly assure us of the purity of
our moral sense, as the habit of contemplating,
not that excellence which we have reached, but
that which is still to be pursued;* of not con¬
sidering how far we may outrun others, but how
far we are from the goal ?
Virtue has often outward advantages, and
always inward delights; but the second, though
constant, strong, inaccessible, and inviolable, are
not easily considered by the common observer as
apart from the virtue with which they are blend¬
ed. They are so subtile and evanescent as to
escape the distinct contemplation of all but the
very few who meditate on the acts of mind.
The outward advantages, on the other hand,
cold, uncertain, dependent, and precarious as
they are, yet stand out to the sense and to the
memory, may be handled and counted, and are
perfectly on a level with the general apprehen¬
sion. Hence they have become the almost ex¬
clusive theme of all moralists who profess to fol¬
low reason. There is room for suspecting that
a very general illusion prevails on this subject.
Probably the smallest part of the pleasure of
virtue, because it is,the most palpable, has be¬
come the sign and mental representative of the
whole. The outward and visible sign suggests
insensibly the inward and mental delight. Those
who display the external benefits of magnani¬
mity and kindness, would speak with far less
fer vour, and perhaps less confidence, if their feel¬
ings were not unconsciously affected by the
mental state which they overlook in their state¬
ments, though they feel some part of it when
they write or speak on it. When they speak of
1 According to Cicero’s definition of fortitude, “ Virtus pugnans pro tvqidtate." Ihe remains of the original sense o
Virtus, Manhood, give a beauty and force to these expressions, which cannot be preserved m oin language. I e iiee
and the German Tugend, originally denoted Strength, afterwards Courage, smA &t last Virtue, But the happy priva¬
tion of Virtus from Vir gives an energy to the phrase of Cicero, which illustrates the use of etymology in the hands o a
skilful writer.
* Mr Mill’s Analysis of the Human Mind, vol. II. p. 222.
* Bor a description of vanity, by a great orator, see the llev. R. Hall’s Sermon on Modern Infidelity.
382
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
what is without, they feel what was within, and
their words excite the same feeling in others.
Is it not probable that much ot our love of
praise may be thus ascribed to humane and
sociable pleasure in the sympathy of others with
us ? Praise is the symbol which represents sym¬
pathy, and which the mind insensibly substitutes
for it in recollection and in language. Does not
the desire of posthumous fame, in like manner,
manifest an ambition for the fellow-feeling of our
race, when it is perfectly unproductive of any
advantage to ourselves? In this point of view,
it may be considered as the passion of which the
very existence proves the mighty power of dis¬
interested desire. Every other pleasure from
sympathy is confined to the men who are now
alive. The love of fame alone seeks the sym¬
pathy of unborn generations, and stretches the
chain which binds the race of man together, to
an extent to which hope sets no bounds. There
is a noble, even if unconscious, union of morality
with genius in the mind of him who sympathizes
with the masters who lived twenty centuries
before him, in order that he may learn to com¬
mand the sympathies of the countless genera¬
tions who are to come.
In the most familiar, as well as in the highest
instances, it would seem, that the inmost thoughts
and sentiments of men are more pure than their
language. Those who speak of “ a regard to
character,” if they be serious, generally infuse
into that word, unawares, a large portion of that
sense in which it denotes the frame of the mind.
Those who speak of “ honour” very often mean
a more refined and delicate sort of conscience,
which ought to render the more educated classes
of society alive to such smaller wrongs as the la¬
borious and the ignorant can scarcely feel. What
heart does not warm at the noble exclamation of
the ancient poet: “ Who is pleased by false
honour, or frightened by lying infamy, but he
who is false and depraved!” Every uncorrupted
mind feels unmerited praise as a bitter reproach,
and regards a consciousness of demerit as a drop
of poison in the cup of honour. How different
is the applause which truly delights us all, a
proof that the consciences of others are in har¬
mony with our own! “ What,” says Cicero,
‘£ is glory but the concurring praise of the good,
the unbought approbation of those who judge
aright of excellent virtue!” A far greater than
Cicero rises from the purest praise of man, to
more sublime contemplations.
Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
But lives and spreads aloft, by those pure eyes
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove.
Those who have most inculcated the doctrine
of utility have given another notable example of
the very vulgar prejudice which treats the un¬
seen as insignificant. Tucker is the only one of
them who occasionally considers that most im¬
portant effect of human conduct which consists
in its action on the frame of the mind, by fitting
its faculties and sensibilities for their appointed
purpose. A razor or a penknife would well
enough cut cloth or meat; but if they were often
so used, they would be entirely spoiled. The
same sort of observation is much more strongly
applicable to habitual dispositions, which, if they
be spoiled, we have no certain means of repla¬
cing or mending. Whatever act, therefore, dis¬
composes the moral machinery of mind, is more
injurious to the welfare of the agent than most
disasters from without can be; for the latter are
commonly limited and temporary; the evil of
the former spreads through the whole of life.
Health of mind, as well as of body, is not only
productive in itself of a greater sum of enjoy¬
ment than arises from other sources, but is the
only condition of our frame in which we are ca¬
pable of receiving pleasure from without. Hence
it appears how incredibly absurd it is to prefer,
on grounds of calculation, a present interest to
the preservation of those mental habits on which
our wellbeing depends. When they are most
moral, they may often prevent us from obtaining
advantages. It would be as absurd to desire to
lower them for that reason, as it would be to
weaken the body, lest its strength should render
it more liable to contagious disorders of rare
occurrence.
It is, on the other hand, impossible to com¬
bine the benefit of the general habit with the
advantages of occasional deviation; for every
such deviation either produces remorse, or weak¬
ens the habit, and prepares the way for its gra¬
dual destruction. He who obtains a fortune by
the undetected forgery of a will, may indeed be
DISSERTATION SECOND.
383
honest in his other acts; but if he had such a
scorn of fraud before as he must himself allow
to be generally useful, he must suffer a severe
punishment from contrition; and he will be
haunted with the fears of one who has lost his
own security for his good conduct. In all cases,
if they be well examined, his loss by the distem¬
per of his mental frame will outweigh the profits
of his vice.
By repeating the like observation on similar
occasions, it will be manifest that the infirmity
of recollection, aggravated by the defects of lan¬
guage, gives an appearance of more selfishness
to man than truly belongs to his nature; and
that the effect of active agents upon the habitual
state of mind, one of the considerations to which
the epithet “ sentimental” has of late been ap¬
plied in derision, is really among the most se¬
rious and reasonable objects of moral philosophy.
When the internal pleasures and pains which
accompany good and bad feelings, or rather form
a part of them, and the internal advantages and
disadvantages which follow good and bad actions,
are sufficiently considered, the comparative im¬
portance of outward consequences will be more
and more narrowed; so that the Stoical philoso¬
pher may be thought almost excusable for re¬
jecting it altogether, were it not an indispensably
necessary consideration for those in whom right
habits of feeling are not sufficiently strong.
They alone are happy, or even truly virtuous,
who have little need of it.
The later moralists who adopt the principle
of utility, have so misplaced it, that in their
hands it has as great a tendency as any theore¬
tical error can have, to lessen the intrinsic plea¬
sure of virtue, and to unfit our habitual feelings
for being the most effectual inducements to good
conduct. This is the natural tendency of a dis¬
cipline which brings utility too closely and fre¬
quently into contact with action. By this ha¬
bit, in its best state, an essentially weaker mo¬
tive is gradually substituted for others which
must always be of more force. The frequent
appeal to utility as the standard of action tends
to introduce an uncertainty with respect to the
conduct of other men, which would render all
intercourse insupportable. It affords also so
lair a disguise for selfish and malignant passions,
as often to hide their nature from him who is
their prey. Some taint of these mean and evil
principles will at least creep in, and by their
venom give an animation not its own to the cold
desire of utility. The moralists who take an
active part in those affairs which often call out
unamiable passions, ought to guard with peculiar
watchfulness against such self-delusions. The
sin that must most easily beset them, is that of
sliding from general to particular consequences,
—that of trying single actions, instead of dis¬
positions, habits, and rules, by the standard of
utility,—that of authorizing too great a latitude
for discretion and policy in moral conduct,—
that of readily allowing exceptions to the most
important rules,—that of too lenient a censure
of the use of doubtful means when the end seems
to them good,—and that of believing unphiloso-
phically, as rvell as dangerously, that there can
be any measure or scheme so useful to the world
as the existence of men who would not do a base
thing for any public advantage. It was said of
Andrew Fletcher, “ he would lose his life to
serve his country, but would not do a base thing
to save it.” Let those preachers of utility who
suppose that such a man sacrifices ewcfe to means,
consider whether the scorn of baseness be not
akin to the contempt of danger, and whether a
nation composed of such men would not be in¬
vincible. But theoretical principles are coun¬
teracted by a thousand causes, which confine
their mischief as well as circumscribe their be¬
nefits. Men are never so good or so bad as
their opinions. All that can be with reason ap¬
prehended is, that they may always produce
some part of their natural evil, and that the
mischief will be greatest among the many who
seek excuses for these passions. Aristippus
found in the Socratic representation of the union
of virtue and happiness a pretext for sensuality;
and many Epicureans became voluptuaries in
spite of the example of their master; easily drop¬
ping by degrees the limitations by which he
guarded his doctrines. In proportion as a man
accustoms himself to be influenced by the utility
of particular acts, without regard to rules, he
approaches to the casuistry of the Jesuits, and
to the practical maxims of Caesar Borgia.
Injury on this as on other occasions has been
384
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
suffered Try Ethics^ from its close affinity to Ju¬
risprudence. The true and eminent merit of Mr
Bentham is that of a reformer of jurisprudence.
He is only a moralist with a view to being a
jurist; and he sometimes becomes for a iew
hurried moments a metaphysician with a view to
laying the foundation of both the moral sciences.
Both he and his followers have treated Ethics
too juridically. They do not seem to be aware,
or at least they do not bear constantly in mind,
that there is an essential difference in the sub¬
jects of these two sciences.
The object of law is the prevention of actions
injurious to the community. It considers the
dispositions from which they flow only indirect¬
ly^ to ascertain the likelihood of their recur¬
rence, and thus to determine the necessity and
the means of preventing them. The direct ob¬
ject of Ethics is only mental disposition. It
considers actions indirectly as the signs by which
such dispositions are manifested. If it were
possible for the mere moralist to see that a moral
and amiable temper was the mental source of a
bad action, he could not cease to approve and
love the temper, as we sometimes presume to
suppose may be true of the judgments of the
Searcher of Hearts. Religion necessarily coin¬
cides with morality in this respect; and it is the
peculiar distinction of Christianity that it places
the seat of virtue in the heart. Law and Ethics
are necessarily so much blended, that in many
intricate combinations the distinction becomes
obscure. But in all strong cases the difference is
evident. Thus, law punishes the most sincerely
repentant; but wherever the soul of the penitent
can be thought to be thoroughly purified, reli¬
gion and morality receive him with open arms.
It is needless, after these remarks, to observe,
that those whose habitual contemplation is di¬
rected to the rules of action, are likely to under¬
rate the importance of feeling and disposition ;
an error of very unfortunate consequences, since
the far greater part of human actions flow from
these neglected sources; while the law inter¬
poses only in cases which may be called excep¬
tions, which are now rare, and ought to be less
frequent.
The coincidence of Mr Bentham’s school with
the ancient Epicureans in the disregard of the
ple.asures of taste and of the arts dependent on
imagination, is a proof both of the inevitable
adherence of much of the popular sense of the
words “ interest” and “ pleasure,” to the same
words in their philosophical acceptation, and of
the pernicious influence of narrowing “ utility”
to mere visible and tangible objects, to the ex¬
clusion of those which form the larger part of
human enjoyment.
The mechanical philosophers who, under Des¬
cartes and Gassendi, began to reform Physics in
the seventeenth century, attempted to explain
all the appearances of nature by an immediate
reference to the figure of particles of matter im¬
pelling each other in various directions, and with
unequal force, but in all other points alike. The
communication of motion by impulse they con¬
ceived to be perfectly simple and intelligible. It
never occurred to them, that the movement of
one ball when another is driven against it, is
a fact of which no explanation can be given
which will amount to more than a statement of
its constant occurrence. That no body can act
where it is not, appeared to them as self-evident
as that the whole is equal to all the parts. By
this axiom they understood that no body moves
another without touching it. They did not per¬
ceive, that it was only self-evident where it
means that no body can act where it has not the
power of acting ; and that if it be understood
more largley, it is a mere assumption of the pro¬
position on which their whole system rested.
Sir Isaac Newton reformed Physics, not by
simplifying that science, but by rendering it
much more complicated. He introduced into it
the force of attraction, of which he ascertained
many laws, but which even he did not dare to
represent as being as intelligible and as con¬
ceivably ultimate as impulsion itself. It was
necessary for Laplace to introduce intermediate
laws, and to calculate disturbing forces, befoie
the phenomena of the heavenly bodies could be
reconciled even to Newton’s more complex theory.
In the present state of physical and chemical
knowledge, a man who should attempt to refer
all the immense variety of facts to the simple
impulse of the Cartesians, would have no chance
of serious confutation. The number of laws
augments with the progress of knowledge. flie
DISSERTATION SECOND.
speculations of the followers of Mr Bentham are
not unlike the unsuccessful attempt of the Car¬
tesians. Mr Mill, for example, derives the whole
theory of Government1 from the single fact, that
every man pursues his interest when he knows
it; which he assumes to be a sort of self-evident
practical principle, if such a phrase be not con¬
tradictory. That a man’s pursuing the interest
of another, or indeed any other object in nature,
is just as conceivable as that he should pursue his
own interest, is a proposition which seems never
to have occurred to this acute and ingenious
writer. Nothing, however, can be more certain
than its truth, if the term “ interest” be em¬
ployed in its proper sense of general wellbeing,
which is the only acceptation in which it can
serve the purpose of his arguments. If, indeed,
the term be employed to denote the gratification
of a predominant desire, his proposition is self-
evident, but wholly unserviceable in his argu¬
ment; for it is clear that individuals and multi¬
tudes often desire what they know to be most
inconsistent with their general welfare. A na¬
tion, as much as an individual, and sometimes
more, may not only mistake its interest, but, per¬
ceiving it clearly, may prefer the gratification of
a strong passion to it.2 The whole fabric of his
political reasoning seems to be overthrown by
this single observation ; and instead of attempt¬
ing to explain the immense variety of political
facts by the simple principle of a contest of in¬
terests, we are reduced to the necessity of once
more referring them to that variety of passions?
habits, opinions, and prejudices, which we dis¬
cover only by experience. Mr Mill’s Essay on
Education* affords another example of the incon¬
venience of leaping at once from the most gene¬
ral laws, to a multiplicity of minute appearances.
Having assumed, or at least inferred from insuf¬
ficient premises, that the intellectual and moral
character is entirely formed by circumstances, he
proceeds, in the latter part of the essay, as if it
were a necessary consequence of that doctrine
that we might easily acquire the power of com¬
bining and directing circumstances ^in such a
manner as to produce the best possible character.
Without disputing for the present the theoreti¬
cal proposition, let us consider what would be
the reasonableness of similar expectations in a
more easily intelligible case. The general theory
of the winds is pretty well understood; Ave
know that they proceed from the rushing of air
from those portions of the atmosphere which are
more condensed, into those which are more rare¬
fied ; but how great a chasm is there between
that simple law and the great variety of facts
which experience teaches us respecting winds !
The constant winds between the tropics are
large and regular enough to be in some measure
capable of explanation; but who can tell why,
in variable climates, the wind blows to-day from
the east, to-morrow from the west l Who can
foretell what its shiftings and variations are to
be? Who can account for a tempest on one
day, and a calm on another ? Even if we could
foretell the irregular and infinite variations, how
far might we not still be from the power of com¬
bining and guiding their causes ? No man but
the lunatic in the story of Rasselas ever dreamt
that he could command the weather. The diffi¬
culty plainly consists in the multiplicity and
minuteness of the circumstances which act on
the atmosphere. Are those which influence the
formation of the human character likely to be
less minute and multiplied ?
The style of Mr Bentham underwent a more
remarkable revolution than perhaps befell that
of any other celebrated writer. In his early
works, it was clear, free, spirited, often and sea¬
sonably eloquent. Many passages of his later
writings retain the inimitable stamp of genius;
but he seems to have been oppressed by the vast¬
ness of his projected works,—to have thought
that he had no longer more than leisure to pre¬
serve the heads of them,—to have been impelled
by a fruitful mind to new plans before he had
completed the old. In this state of things, he
1 Essay on Government, originally printed in the Supplement to the fourth, fifth, and sixth editions of the Encyclopaedia
5 The same mode of reasoning has been adopted by the writer of a late criticism on Mr Minn » Essay. See Edinburgh
Review, No. 97, March 1829.
s In the Supplement to the Encyclopaedia Britannica.
Digs. II. ** C
386
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
gradually ceased to use words for conveying his
thoughts to others, but merely employed them
as a short-hand to preserve his meaning for his
own purpose. It was no wonder that his lan¬
guage should thus become obscure and repulsive.
Though many of his technical terms are in them¬
selves exact and pithy, yet the overflow of his
vast nomenclature was enough to darken his
whole diction.
It was at this critical period that the arrange¬
ment and translation of his manuscripts were
undertaken by M. Dumont, a generous disciple,
who devoted a genius formed for original and
lasting works, to diffuse the principles and pro¬
mote the fame of his master. He whose pen
Mirabeau did not disdain to borrow,—who, in
the same school with Romilly, had studiously
pursued the grace as well as the force of com¬
position,—was perfectly qualified to strip of its
DUGALD
Manifold ai*e the discouragements rising up
at every step in that part of this Dissertation
which extends to very recent times. No sooner
does the writer escape from the angry disputes
of the living, than he may feel his mind clouded
by the name of a departed friend. But there
are happily men whose fame is brightened by
free discussion, and to whose memory an ap¬
pearance of belief that they needed tender treat¬
ment would be a grosser injury than it could
suffer from a respectable antagonist.
Dugald Stewart was the son of Dr Matthew
Stewart, Professor of Mathematics in the Uni¬
versity of Edinburgh; a station immediately
before filled by Maclaurin, on the recommenda¬
tion of Newton. Hence the poet spoke of “ the
philosophic sire and son.”2 He was educated
at Edinburgh, and he heard the lectures of Reid
at Glasgow. He was early associated with his
father in the duties of the Mathematical Profes¬
sorship ; and during the absence of Dr Adam
Ferguson as Secretary to the Commissioners
sent to conclude a peace with North America,
he occupied the chair of Moral Philosophy. He
uncouthness a philosophy which he understood
and admired. As he wrote in a general lan¬
guage, he propagated its doctrines throughout
Europe, where they were beneficial to jurispru¬
dence, but perhaps injurious to the cause of re¬
formation in government. That they became
more popular abroad than at home, is partly to
be ascribed to the taste and skill of M. Dumont;
partly to that tendency towards free specula¬
tion and bold reform which was more prevalent
among nations newly freed, or impatiently aspir¬
ing to freedom, than in a people long satisfied
with the possession of a system of government
like that which others were struggling to ob¬
tain, and not yet aware of the imperfections
and abuses in their laws, to the amendment of
which a cautious consideration of Mr Bentham’s
works will undoubtedly most materially con¬
tribute.
STEWART.1
was appointed to the Professorship on the resig¬
nation of Ferguson, not the least distinguished
among the modern moralists inclined to the
Stoical school.
This office, filled in immediate succession by
Ferguson, Stewart, and Brown, received a
lustre from their names, which it owed in no
degree to its modest exterior or its limited ad¬
vantages ; and was rendered by them the highest
dignity, in the humble, but not obscure, esta¬
blishments of Scottish literature. The lectures of
Mr Stewart, for a quarter of a century, render¬
ed it famous through every country where the
light of reason was allowed to penetrate. Per¬
haps few men ever lived, who poured into the
breasts of youth a more fervid and yet reason¬
able love of liberty, of truth, and of virtue.
How many are still alive, in different countries,
and in every rank to which education reaches,
who, if they accurately examined their own
minds and lives, would not ascribe much of
whatever goodness and happiness they possess,
to the early impressions of his gentle and per¬
suasive eloquence ! He lived to see his disciples
1 Born in 1753; died in 1828.
* Burns.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
387
distinguished among the lights and ornaments
of the council and the senate.1 He had the
consolation to be sure that no words of his pro¬
moted the growth of an impure taste, of an ex¬
clusive prej udice, of a malevolent passion. With¬
out derogation from his writings, it may be said
that his disciples were among his best works.
He, indeed, who may justly be said to have cul¬
tivated an extent of mind which would other¬
wise have lain barren, and to have contributed
to raise virtuous dispositions where the natural
growth might have been useless or noxious, is
not less a benefactor of mankind, and may indi¬
rectly be a larger contributor to knowledge, than
the author of great works, or even the discoverer
of important truths. The system of conveying
scientific instruction to a large audience by
lectures, from which the English universities
have in a great measure departed, renders his
qualities as a lecturer a most important part ot
his merit in a Scottish university which still ad¬
heres to the general method ot European educa¬
tion. Probably no modern ever exceeded him
in that species of eloquence which springs from
sensibility to literary beauty and moral excel¬
lence ; which neither obscures science by pro¬
digal ornament, nor disturbs the serenity of pa¬
tient attention ; but though it rather calms and
soothes the feelings, yet exalts the genius, and
insensibly inspires a reasonable enthusiasm for
whatever is good and fair.
He embraced the philosophy of Dr Reid, a
patient, modest, and deep thinker,8 who, in his
first work (Enquiry into the Human Mind), de¬
serves a commendation more descriptive of a
philosopher than that bestowed by Professor
Cousin—of having made “ a vigorous protest
against scepticism on behalf ot common sense. ’
His observations on suggestion, on natural signs,
on the connection between what he calls sensa¬
tion and perception, though perhaps occasioned
by Berkeley, whose idealism Reid had once
adopted, are marked by the genuine spirit ot
original observation. As there are too many
who seem more wise than they are, so it was the
more uncommon fault of Reid to appear less
a philosopher than he really was. Indeed his
temporary adoption of Berkeleianism is a proof
of an unprejudiced and acute mind. Perhaps no
man ever rose finally above the seductions ot
that simple and ingenious system, who had not
sometimes tried their full effect by surrendering
his whole mind to them.
But it is never with entire impunity that
philosophers borrow vague and inappropriate
terms from vulgar use. Never did man afford
a stronger instance of the danger than Reid, in
his two most unfortunate terms, Common Sense
and Instinct. Common Sense is that average
portion of understanding, possessed by most men,
which, as it is nearly always applied to conduct,
has acquired an almost exclusively practical
' As an example of Mr Stewart’s school may be-mentioned Francis Horner, a "°S‘;
an affectionate Inend. The short life of this excellent person .s worthy i" an as!
who, in circumstances like his, enter on the slippery path of public affairs. , usefui information, still
seiubly where aristocratical propensities prevail,—by his understanding, im us r^| of unbencpng integrity, and
more by modest independence, by steadiness and sincerity, joined to mo1 , y , raised himself at the early age
bv the conscientious considerateness which breathed through Ins well-e iosen anff £ ’ nower of reasoning could’have
of thirty-six, to a moral authority which, without these qualities monil His h"|h place was
acquired. No eminent speaker in Parliament owed so much ()f h's - ^ ex„ressed with touching unanimity
therefore honourable to his audience and to his country, llegiet ^ ,, t ]-rom theatrical display, and whose
from every part of a divided assembly, unused to manifestations of se s . ’ ‘ s|u,wish ness. The tears of those to
tribute on such an occasion derived its peculiar value from their genera , , wa,rVL l)raised, wept, and honoured,”
whom he was unknown were shed over him; and at the head of those y Horner bv his discernment and veracity,
was one, whose commendation would have been more enhanced in t ic V . afforded by the name of Howard,
than by the signal proof of the concurrence of all orders, as well as ^lt/, eW“ the ;nost competent of judges,
2 Those who may doubt the justice ot this description will do we ^ • r’tainly verv rare that a piece so deeply philo-
who, though candid and even indulgent, was not promgal of Pra^‘ the reader Whenever I enter into your ideas,
fophical is wrote with so much spirit, and affords so much enter ^ go correct an(l s0 g00d English, that I found
no man appears to express himself with greater perspicuity, i ou ... . D Cm^pbell and Dr Gerard, and
not any thing worth the remarking. I beg my comphments o my ^ (Zrf*r
also to Dr Gregory, whom I suspect to be of the same disposition, th „
from Mr Hume to Dr Reid: Stewart’s Biographical Menwvs, p. JO proof sheets of Dr Reid’s Enquiry, but before its
The latter part of the above sentences (written after a perusa! of the proot-she^s ot^rne ^ most for.
publication) sufficiently shows, that Mr Hume felt no displeasur g< amiable man an eleeant and tender poet,
midable antagonists, however he might resent the language o r e‘l ’ Truth an unfair anpeal to the multitude
and a good writer oJi miscellaneous literature in prose, but who, m Ins ^
on philosophical queslions-indulged himself in the personalities and invectives of a popular pamphleteer
388
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
sense. Instinct is the habitual power of pro¬
ducing effects like contrivances of reason, yet
so far beyond the intelligence and experience of
the agent, as to be utterly inexplicable by refer¬
ence to them. No man, if he had been in search
of improper words, could have discovered any
more unfit than these two, for denoting that
law, or state, or faculty of mind, which compels
us to acknowledge certain simple and very ab¬
stract truths, not being identical propositions,
to lie at the foundation of all reasoning, and to
be the necessary ground of all belief.
Long after the death of Dr Reid, his philoso¬
phy was taught at Paris by M. Royer Collard,1
who, on the restoration of free debate, became
the most philosophical orator of his nation, and
now fills, with impartiality and dignity, the
chair of the Chamber of Deputies. His inge¬
nious and eloquent scholar, Professor Cousin,
dissatisfied with what he calls “ the sage and
timid” doctrines of Edinburgh, which he con¬
sidered as only a vigorous protest, on behalf of
common sense, against the scepticism of Hume,
sought in Germany for a philosophy of “ such
a masculine and brilliant character as might
command the attention of Europe, and be able
to struggle with success on a great theatre,
against the genius of the adverse school.”51 It
may be questioned whether he found in Kant
more than the same vigorous protest, under a
more systematic form, with an immense nomen¬
clature, and constituting a philosophical edifice
of equal symmetry and vastness. The prefer¬
ence of the more boastful system, over a philo¬
sophy thus chiefly blamed for its modest preten¬
sions, does not seem to be entirely justified by
its permanent authority in the country which
gave it birth; where, however powerful its in¬
fluence still continues to be, its doctrines do not
appear to have now many supporters : and, in¬
deed, the accomplished Professor himself rapid¬
ly shot through Kantianism, and now appears
to rest or to stop at the doctrines of Schelling
and Hegel, at a point so high, that it is hard to
descry from it any distinction between objects,
—even that indispensable distinction between
Reality and Illusion. As the works of Reid,
and those of Kant, otherwise so different, ap¬
pear to be simultaneous efforts of the conserva¬
tive power of philosophy to expel the mortal
poison of scepticism, so the exertions of M.
Royer Collard and M. Cousin, however at va¬
riance in metaphysical principles, seem to have
been chiefly roused by the desire of delivering
Ethics from that fatal taint of personal, and,
indeed, gross interest, which that science had
received in France from the followers of Con¬
dillac, especially Helvetius, St Lambert, and
Cabanis. The success of these attempts to ren¬
der Speculative Philosophy once more popular
in the country of Descartes, has already been
considerable. The French youth, whose desire
of knowledge and love of liberty afford an aus¬
picious promise of the succeeding age, have
eagerly received doctrines, of which the moral
part is so much more agreeable to their liberal
spirit, than the selfish theory, generated in the
stagnation of a corrupt, cruel, and dissolute
tyranny.
These agreeable prospects bring us easily back
to our subject; for though the restoration of
Speculative Philosophy in the country of Des¬
cartes is due to the precise statement and vi¬
gorous logic of M. Royer Collard, the modifica¬
tions introduced by him into the doctrine of
Reid coincide with those of Mr Stewart, and
would have appeared to agree more exactly, if
the forms of the French philosopher had not been
more dialectical, and the composition of Mr
Stewart had retained less of that oratorical cha¬
racter, which belonged to a justly celebrated
speaker. Amidst excellencies of the highest
order, his writings, it must be confessed, leave
some room for criticism. He took precautions
against offence to the feelings of his contempo¬
raries, more anxious and frequent than the im¬
patient searcher for truth may deem necessary.
For the sake of promoting the favourable re-
* Fragments ot his lectures have been recently published in a French translation of Dr Reid, by M. JonfFroy: (Euvrcs
Completes dc Tuqmas Reid, vol. IV. Paris, 1828.
2 Cours de Philosophic, par M. Cousin, lecon xii. Paris, 1828.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
389
ccption of philosophy itself, he studies perhaps
too visibly to avoid whatever might raise up
prejudices against it. His gratitude and native
modesty dictated a superabundant care in sof¬
tening and excusing his dissent from those who
had been his own instructors, or who were the
objects of general reverence. Exposed by his
station, both to the assaults of political preju¬
dice, and to the religious animosities of a coun¬
try where a few sceptics attacked the slumber¬
ing zeal of a Calvinistic people, it would have
been wonderful if he had not betrayed more
wariness than would have been necessary or be¬
coming in a very different position. The ful¬
ness of his literature seduced him too much into
multiplied illustrations. Too many of the ex¬
pedients happily used to allure the young may
unnecessarily swell his volumes. Perhaps a
successive publication in separate parts made
him more voluminous than he would have been
if the whole had been at once before his eyes.
A peculiar susceptibility and delicacy of taste
produced forms of expression, in themselves ex¬
tremely beautiful, but of which the habitual use
is not easily reconcilable with the condensation
desirable in works necessarily so extensive. If,
however, it must be owned that the caution in¬
cident to his temper, his feelings, his philosophy,
and his station, has somewhat lengthened his
composition, it is not less true, that some of the
same circumstances have contributed towards
those peculiar beauties which place him at the
head of the most adorned writers on philosophy
in our language.
Few writers rise with more grace from a
plain groundwork, to the passages which require
greater animation or embellishment. He gives
to narrative, according to the precept of Bacon,
the colour of the time, by a selection of happy
expressions from original writers. Among the
secret arts by which he diffuses elegance over
his diction, may be remarked the skill which,
by deepening or brightening a shade in a se¬
condary term, by opening partial or prepara-
tory glimpses of a thought to be afterwards un¬
folded, unobservedly heightens the import of a
word, and gives it a new meaning, without any
offence against old use. It is in this manner
that philosophical originality may be reconciled
to purity and stability of speech,—that we may
avoid new terms, which are the easy resource of
the unskilful or the indolent, and often a cha¬
racteristic mark of writers who love their lan¬
guage too little to feel its peculiar excellencies,
or to study the art of calling forth its powers.
He reminds us not unfrequently of the cha¬
racter given by Cicero to one of his contempo¬
raries, “ who expressed refined and abstruse
thought in soft and transparent diction.” His
writings are .a proof that the mild sentiments
have their eloquence as well as the vehement
passions. It would be difficult to name works
in which so much refined philosophy is joined
with so fine a fancy,—so much elegant litera¬
ture, with such a delicate perception of the
distinguishing excellencies of great writers, and
with an estimate in general so just of the ser¬
vices rendered to knowledge by a succession of
philosophers. They are pervaded by a philoso¬
phical benevolence, which keeps up the ardour
of his genius, without disturbing the serenity of
his mind,—which is felt in his reverence for
knowledge, in the generosity of his praise, and
in the tenderness of his censure. It is still more
sensible in the general tone with which he re¬
lates the successful progress of the human un¬
derstanding, among many formidable enemies.
Those readers are not to be envied who limit
their admiration to particular parts, or to excel¬
lencies merely literary, without being warmed
by the glow of that honest triumph in the ad¬
vancement of knowledge, and of that assured
faith in the final prevalence of truth and justice,
which breathe through every page of them, and
give the unity and dignity of a moral purpose
to the whole of these classical works.
He has often quoted poetical passages, of which
some throw much light on our mental opera¬
tions. If he sometimes prized the moral com¬
mon-places of Thomson and the speculative
fancy of Akenside more highly than the higher
poetry of their betters, it was not to be wonder¬
ed at that the metaphysician and the moralist
should sometimes prevail over the lover of poetry.
His natural sensibility was perhaps occasionally
cramped by the cold criticism of an unpoetical
age ; and some of his remarks may be thought
to indicate a more constant and exclusive regard
390
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to diction than is agreeable to the men of a ge¬
neration who have been trained by tremendous
events to a passion for daring inventions, and to
an irregular enthusiasm, impatient of minute
elegancies and refinement. Many of those beau¬
ties which his generous criticism delighted to
magnify in the works of his contemporaries,
have already faded under the scorching rays of
a fiercer sun.
Mr Stewart employed more skill in contriving,
and more care in concealing, his very important
reforms of Reid’s doctrines, than others exert to
maintain their claims to originality. Had his
well-chosen language of “ laws of human thought
or belief” been at first adopted in that school,
instead of “ instinct” and “ common sense,” it
would have escaped much of the reproach (which
Dr Reid himself did not merit) of shallowness
and popularity. Expressions so exact, employed
in the opening, could not have failed to influence
the whole system, and to have given it, not only
in the general estimation, but in the minds of its
framers, a more scientific complexion. In those
parts of Mr Stewart’s speculations in which he
most departed from his general principles, he
seems sometimes, as it were, to be suddenly
driven back by what he unconsciously shrinks
from as ungrateful apostasy ; and to be desirous
of making amends to his master, by more harsh¬
ness, than is otherwise natural to him, towards
the writers whom he has insensibly approached.
Hence perhaps the unwonted severity of his lan¬
guage towards Tucker and Hartley. It is thus
at the very time when he largely adopts the
Principle of Association in his excellent Essay
on the Beautiful,1 that he treats most rigidly
the latter of these writers, to whom, though nei¬
ther the discoverer nor the sole advocate of that
principle, it surely owes the greatest illustration
and support.
In matters of far other importance, causes
perhaps somewhat similar may have led to the
like mistake. When he absolutely contra¬
dicts Dr Reid, by truly stating that “ it Ls
more philosophical to resolve the power of
habit into the association of ideas, than to re¬
solve the association of ideas into habit,”0 he,
in the sequel of the same volume,3 refuses to go
farther than to own, that “ the theory of Hart¬
ley concerning the origin of our affections, and
of the moral sense, is a most ingenious refinement
on Ike selfish system, and that by means of it the
force of many of the common reasonings against
that system is eluded;” though he somewhat
inconsistently allows, that “ active principles
which, arising from circumstances in which all
the situations of mankind must agree, are there¬
fore common to the whole species, at whatever
period of life they may appear, are to be regard¬
ed as a part of human nature, no less than the
instinct of suction; in the same manner as the
acquired perception of distance, by the eye, is
to be ranked among the perceptive powers of
man, no less than the original perceptions of the
other senses.”4 In another place also he makes
a remark on mere beauty, which might have led
him to a more just conclusion respecting the the¬
ory of the origin of the affections and the moral
sense : “ It is scarcely necessary forme to observe,
that, in those instances where association operates
in heightening (or he might have said creates) the
pleasures we receive from sight, the pleasing emo¬
tion continues still to appear, to our conscious¬
ness, simple and uncompounded.”* To this re¬
mark he might have added, that until all the
separate pleasures be melted into one,—as long
as any of them are discerned and felt as distinct
from each other,—the associations are incom¬
plete, and the qualities which gratify are not
called by the name of beauty. In like manner,
as has been repeatedly observed, it is only when
all the separate feelings, pleasurable and pain¬
ful, excited by the contemplation of voluntary
action, are lost in the general sentiments of ap-
1 Stewart’s Philosophical Essays, part ii. essay i. especially chap. vi. The condensation, if not omission, of the discussion
of the theories of Buflier, Reynolds, Burke, and Price, in this essay, would have lessened that temporary appearance wine
is unsuitable to a scientific work.
* Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. I. p. 281, edit. 1792, 4to.
•i Ibid. p. 383.
* Ibid. p. 3B«r>.
* Philosophical Essays, part ii. essay i. chap. vi.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
391
probation or disapprobation,—when these gene¬
ral feelings retain no trace of the various emo¬
tions which originally attended different actions,
 when they are held in a state of perfect fusion
by the habitual use of the words used in every
language to denote them,—that conscience can
be said to exist, or that we can be considered
as endowed with a moral nature. The theory
which thus ascribes the uniform formation of
the moral faculty to universal and paramount
laws, is not a refinement of the selfish system,
nor is it any modification of that hypothesis.
The partisans of selfishness maintain, that in
acts of will the agent must have a view to the
pleasure or happiness which he hopes to reap
from it. The philosophers who regard the social
affections and the moral sentiments as formed by
a process of association, on the other hand, con¬
tend that these affections and sentiments must
work themselves clear from every particle of
self-regard, before they deserve the names of
benevolence and of conscience. In the actual
state of human motives, the two systems are not
to be likened, but to be contrasted to each other.
It is remarkable that Mr Stewart, who admits
the “ question respecting the origin of the affec¬
tions to be rather curious than important,”1
should have held a directly contrary opinion
respecting the moral sense;2 to which these
words, in his sense of them, seem to be equally
applicable. His meaning in the former affirma¬
tion is, that if the affections be acquired, yet they
are justly called natural; and if their origin be
personal, yet their nature may and does become
disinterested. What circumstance distinguishes
the former from the latter case ? With respect
to the origin of the affections, it must not be
overlooked that his language is somewhat con¬
tradictory. For if the theory on that subject
from which he dissents were merely “ a refine¬
ment on the selfish system,” its truth or false¬
hood could not be represented as subordinate,
since the controversy would continue to relate
to the existence of disinterested motives of hu¬
man conduct.5 It may also be observed, that
he uniformly represents his opponents as de¬
riving the affections from self-love, which, in its
proper sense, is not the source to which they
refer even avarice; and which is itself derived
from other antecedent principles, some of which
are inherent, and some acquired. If the object
of this theory of the rise of the most important
feelings of human nature were, as our philoso¬
pher supposes, “ to elude objections against the
selfish systemfi it would be at best worthless. Its
positive merits are several. It affirms the actual
disinterestedness of human motives, as strongly
as Butler himself. The explanation of the men¬
tal law, of which benevolence and conscience
are formed habitually, when it is contemplated
deeply, impresses on the mind the truth that
they not only are but must be disinterested. It
confirms, as it were, the testimony of conscious¬
ness, by exhibiting to the understanding the
means employed to insure the production of dis¬
interestedness. It affords the only effectual an¬
swer to the prejudice against the disinterested
theory, from the multiplication of ultimate facts
and implanted principles, which, under all its
other forms, it seems to require. No room is
left for this prejudice by a representation of dis¬
interestedness, which ultimately traces its forma¬
tion to principles almost as simple as those of
Hobbes himself. Lastly, every step in just ge¬
neralization is an advance in philosophy. No
one has yet shown, either that man is not ac¬
tually disinterested, or that he may not have
been destined to become so by such a process
as has been described:—the cause to which the
effects are ascribed is a real agent, which seems
adequate to the appearance; and if future obser¬
vation should be found to require that the theory
shall be confined within narrower limits, such a
limitation will not destroy its value.
The acquiescence of Mr Stewart in Dr Reid’s
general representation of our mental constitu-
1 Outlines of Moral Philosophy, p. 93. ... ,, rT,, „ „
2 Outlines, p. II/. “ This is the most important question that can be stated with respect to the theory ot Morals.
2 In the Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man (vol. I. p. 1«4) Mr Stewart has done more manifest injustice
to the Hartleian theory, by calling it “a tiactYme fundamentally the same" with the selfish system, and especially by lepiesent-
ing Hartley, who ought to be rather classed with Butler and Hume, as agreeing with Gay, 1 ucker, and I aley.
392
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
tion, led him to indulge more freely the natural
bent of his understanding, by applying it to theo¬
ries of character and manners, of life and litera¬
ture, of taste and the arts, more than to the con¬
sideration of those more simple principles which
rule over human nature under every form. His
chief work, as he frankly owns, is indeed rather
a collection of such theories, pointing toward the
common end of throwing light on the structure
and functions of the mind, than a systematic
treatise, such as might be expected from the title
of “ Elements.” It is in essays of this kind
that he has most surpassed other cultivators of
mental philosophy. His remarks on the effects
of casual associations may be quoted as a speci¬
men of the most original and just thoughts, con¬
veyed in the best manner.1 In this beautiful
passage, he proceeds from their power of con¬
fusing speculation, to that of disturbing expe¬
rience and of misleading practice; and ends with
their extraordinary effect in bestowing on trivial,
and even ludicrous circumstances, some portion
of the dignity and sanctity of those sublime prin¬
ciples with which they are associated. The
style, at first only clear, afterwards admitting
the ornaments of a calm and grave elegance, at
last rising to as high a strain as philosophy will
endure, and of which all the parts (various as
their nature is) are held together by an invisible
thread of gentle transition, affords a specimen
of adaptation of manner to matter which it will
be hard to match in any philosophical writer.
Another very fine remark, which seems to be as
original as it is just, may be quoted as a sample
of those beauties with which his writings abound.
44 The apparent coldness and selfishness of man¬
kind may be traced, in a great measure, to a
want of attention and a want of imagination. In
the case of those misfortunes which happen to
ourselves or our near connections, neither of
these powers is necessary to make us acquainted
with our situation. But without an uncommon
degree of both, it is impossible for any man
to comprehend completely the situation of his
neighbour, or to have an idea of the greater part
of the distress which exists in the world. If
we feel more for ourselves than for others
in the former case the facts are more fully be¬
fore us than they can be in the latter.”2 Yet
several parts of his writings afford the most
satisfactory proof, that his abstinence from what
is commonly called metaphysical speculation,
arose from no inability to pursue it with sig¬
nal success. As examples, his observations on
General Terms, and on Causation, may be ap¬
pealed to with perfect confidence. In the first
two Dissertations of the volume bearing the title
of Philosophical Essays, he with equal boldness
and acuteness grapples with the most extensive
and abstruse questions of mental philosophy, and
points out both the sources and the uttermost
boundaries of human knowledge with a Verula-
mean hand. In another part of his writings, he
calls what are denominated first principles of
experience, “fundamental laws of human belief,
or primary elements of human reason3 which
last form of expression has so close a resemblance
to the language of Kant, that it should have pro¬
tected the latter from the imputation of writing
jargon.
Mr Stewart’s excellent volume entitled Out¬
lines of Moral Philosophy,4 though composed only
as a text-book for the use of his hearers, is one
of the most decisive proofs that he was perfectly
qualified to unite precision with ease, to be brief
with the utmost clearness, and to write with be¬
coming elegance in a style where the meaning
is not overladen by ornaments. This volume
contains his properly Ethical Theory,5 which is
much expanded, but not substantially altered, in
his Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers,6—
a work almost posthumous, and composed under
circumstances which give it a deeper interest than
can be inspired by any desert in science. Though,
with his usual modesty, he manifests an anxiety
to fasten his ethical theory to the kindred specu¬
lations of other philosophers of the Intellectual
School, especially to those of Cudworth, recent¬
ly clothed in more modern phraseology by Price,
yet he still shows that independence and origin-
4 Edinburgh, 1794, Sro.
5 P. 76-148.
8 Two vols. 8vo. Edinburgh, 1828.
1 Elements of the Philosonhy of the Human Mind, vol. I. p. 340-352.
1 Ibid. vol. I. p. 502.
* Ibid. vol. II. p. 57-
DISSERTATION SECOND.
393
ality which all his aversion from parade could
not entirely conceal. Right, duty, virtue, moral
obligation, and the like or the opposite forms of
expression, represent, according to him, certain
thoughts, which arise necessarily and instantane¬
ously in the mind (or in the reason, if we take
that word in the large sense in which it denotes
all that is not emotive) at the contemplation of
actions, and which are utterly incapable of all
resolution, consequently of all explanation, and
which can be known only by being experienced.
These thoughts or ideas, or by whatever other
name they may be called, are followed as inex¬
plicably, but as inevitably, by pleasurable and
painful emotions, which suggest the conception
of moral beauty ; a quality of human actions dis¬
tinct from their adherence to or deviation from rec¬
titude, though generally coinciding with it. The
question which a reflecting reader will here put
is, whether any purpose is served by the intro¬
duction of the intermediate mental process be¬
tween the particular thoughts and the moral
emotions. How would the view be darkened or
confused, or indeed in any degree changed, by
withdrawing that process, or erasing the words
which attempt to express it ? No advocate of
the intellectual origin of the moral faculty has yet
stated a case in which a mere operation of reason
or judgment, unattended by emotion, could, con¬
sistently with the universal opinion of mankind,
as it is exhibited by the structure of language,
be said to have the nature or to produce the
effects of Conscience. Such an example would
be equivalent to an experimentum crucis on the
side of that celebrated theory. The failure to
produce it, after long challenge, is at least
a presumption against it, nearly approach¬
ing to that sort of decisively discriminative
experiment. It would be vain to restate what
has already been too often repeated, that all
the objections to the selfish philosophy turn upon
the actual nature, not upon the original source
of our principles of action; and that it is by a
confusion of these very distinct questions alone
that the confutation of Hobbes can be made ap¬
parently to involve Hartley. Mr Stewart ap¬
pears, like most other metaphysicians, to have
blended the inquiry into the nature of our moral
eentiments with that other which only seeks a
DISS. II.
criterion to distinguish moral from immoral
habits of feeling and action; for he considers
the appearance of moral sentiment at an early
age, before the general tendency of actions could
be ascertained, as a decisive objection to the
origin of these sentiments in association,—an
objection which assumes that, if utility be the
criterion of morality, associations with utility
must be the mode by which the moral sentiments
are formed, which no skilful advocate of the
theory of association will ever allow. That the
main, if not sole object of conscience is to go¬
vern our voluntary exertions, is manifest. But
how could it perform this great function if it
did not impel the will ? and how could it have
the latter effect as a mere act of reason, or in¬
deed in any respect otherwise than as it is made
up of emotions, by which alone its grand aim
could in any degree be attained ? Judgment and
reason are therefore preparatory to conscience,
not properly a part of it. That the exclusion of
reason reduces virtue to be a relative quality,
is another instance of the confusion of the two
questions in moral theory; for though a fitness
to excite approbation may be only a relation of
objects to our susceptibility, yet the proposition
that all virtuous actions are beneficial, is a pro¬
position as absolute as any other within the
range of our understanding.
A delicate state of health, and an ardent de¬
sire to devote himself exclusively to study and
composition, induced Mr Stewart, while in the
full blaze of his reputation as a lecturer, to re¬
tire, in 1810, from the labour of public instruc¬
tion. This retirement, as he himself describes
it, was that of a quiet but active life. Three
quarto and two octavo volumes, besides the
magnificent Dissertations prefixed to this En¬
cyclopaedia, were among its happy fruits. These
Dissertations are, perhaps, the most profusely
ornamented of any of his compositions; a pecu¬
liarity which must in part have arisen from a
principle of taste, which regarded decoration as
more suitable to the history of philosophy than
to philosophy itself. But the memorable in¬
stances of Cicero, of Milton, and still more those
of Dryden and Burke, seem to show that there
is some natural tendency in the fire of genius to
burn more brightly or to blaze more fiercely in
3 D
394
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the evening than in the morning of human life.
Probably the materials which long experience
supplies to the imagination, the boldness with
which a more established reputation arms the
mind, and the silence of the low but formidable
rivals of the higher principles, may concur in pro¬
ducing this unexpected and little observed effect.
It was in the last years of his life, when suf¬
fering under the effects of a severe attack of
palsy, with which he had been afflicted in 1822,
that Mr Stewart most plentifully reaped the
fruits of long virtue and a well-ordered mind.
THOMAS
A writer, as he advances in life, ought to
speak with diffidence of systems which he had
only begun to consider with care after the age in
which it becomes hard for his thoughts to flow
into new channels. A reader cannot be said
practically to understand a theory, till he has
acquired the power of thinking, at least for a
short time, with the theorist. Even a hearer,
with all the helps of voice in the instructor, of
countenance from him and from fellow-hearers,
finds it difficult to perform this necessary process
without either being betrayed into hasty and un¬
distinguishing assent, or falling, while he is in
pursuit of an impartial estimate of opinions, in¬
to an indifference about their truth. I have felt
this difficulty in reconsidering ancient opinions:
but it is perhaps more needful to own its power,
and to warn the reader against its effects, in the
case of a philosopher well known to me, and
with whom common friendships stood in the
stead of much personal intercourse, as a cement
of kindness.
I very early read Brown’s Observations on
Happily for him, his own cultivation and exer¬
cise of every kindly affection had laid up for
him a store of that domestic consolation which
none who deserve it ever want, and for the
loss of which, nothing beyond the threshold can
make amends. The same philosophy which he
had cultivated from his youth upward employed
his dying hand. Aspirations after higher and
brighter scenes of excellence, always blended
with his elevated morality, became more earnest
and deeper as worldly passions died away, and
earthly objects vanished from his sight.
BROWN.1
the Zoonomia of Hr Darwin, the perhaps un¬
matched work of a boy in the eighteenth year
of his age.2 His first tract on Causation ap¬
peared to me the finest model of discussion in
mental philosophy since Berkeley and Hume;
with this superiority over the latter, that its aim
is that of a philosopher who seeks to enlarge
knowledge, not that of a sceptic, the most illus¬
trious of whom have no better end than that of
displaying their powers in confounding and dark¬
ening every truth; so that their very happiest
efforts cannot be more leniently described than
as brilliant fits of mental debauchery.3 From a
diligent perusal of his succeeding works at the
time of their publication, I was prevented by
pursuits and duties of a very different nature.
These causes, together with ill health and grow¬
ing occupation, hindered me from reading his
Lectures with due attention, till it has now be¬
come a duty to consider with care that part of
them which relates to Ethics.
Dr Brown was born in one of those families
of ministers in the Scottish church who, after a
1 Born in 1778; died in 1820. . .
2 Welsh’s Life of Brown, p. 43 ; a pleasingly affectionate work, full of analytical spirit and metaphysical reading,—ot
such merit, in short, that I could wish to have found in it no phrenology. Objections a priori in a case dependent on mcts
are indeed inadmissible. Even the allowance of presumptions of that nature would open so wide a door for prejudices, that
at most they can be considered only as maxims of logical prudence, which fortify the watchfulness of the individual. The
fatal objection to phrenology seems to me to be, that what is new in it, or peculiar to it, has no approach to an adequate
foundation in experience. . ,
3 “ Bayle, a writer who, pervading human nature at his ease, struck into the province of paradox as an exercise for the
unwearied vigour of his mind ; who, with a soul superior to the sharpest attacks of fortune, and a heart practised to the
best philosophy, had not enough of real greatness to overcome that last foible of superior minds, the temptation of honour
which the academic exercise of wit is conceived to bring to its professor.” So Warburton (Divine Legation, book i. sect, b
speaking of Bayle, but perhaps in part excusing himself—in a noble strain, of which it would have been more agreeable
find the repetition than the contrast in his language towards Hume.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
395
generation or two of a humble life spent in
piety and usefulness, with no more than needful
knowledge, have more than once sent forth a
man of genius from their cool and quiet shade,
to make his fellows wiser or better by tongue or
pen, by head or hand. Even the scanty endow¬
ments and constant residence of that church, by
keeping her ministers far from the objects which
awaken turbulent passions and disperse the un¬
derstanding on many pursuits, afforded some of
the leisure and calm of monastic life, without
the exclusion of the charities of family and kin¬
dred. It may be well doubted whether this un¬
dissipated retirement, which during the eigh¬
teenth century was very general in Scotland, did
not make full amends for the loss of curious and
ornamental knowledge, by its tendency to quali¬
fy men for professional duty, by the cultivation
of reason among a considerable number, and by
those opportunities for high meditation, and for
the unchangeable concentration of mind on wor¬
thy objects, to the few who had the natural capa¬
city for such exertions.1
An authentic account of the early exercises of
Brown’s mind is preserved by his biographer.2
At the age of nineteen he took a part with others,
some of whom became the most memorable men
of their time, in the foundation of a private so¬
ciety in Edinburgh, under the name of “ the
Academy of Physics.”3
The character of Dr Brown is very attractive,
as an example of one in whom the utmost ten¬
derness of affection, and the indulgence of a
flowery fancy, were not repressed by the high¬
est cultivation, and by a perhaps excessive re¬
finement of intellect. His mind soared and
roamed through every region of philosophy and
poetry; but his untravelled heart clung to the
hearth of his father, to the children who shared it
with him, and after them, first to the other part¬
ners of his childish sports, and then almost solely
to those companions of his youthful studies who
continued to be the friends of his life. Specula¬
tion seemed to keep his kindness at home. It is
observable, that though sparkling with fancy, he
does not seem to have been deeply or durably
touched by those affections which are lighted at
its torch, or at least tinged with its colours. His
heart sought little abroad, but contentedly d\vrelt
in his family and in his study. He was one of
those men of genius who repaid the tender care
of a mother by rocking the cradle of her repos¬
ing age. He ended a life spent in searching for
truth, and exercising love, by desiring that he
should be buried in his native parish, with his
“ dear father and mother.” Some of these
delightful qualities were perhaps hidden from
the casual observer in general society, by the
want of that perfect simplicity of manner which
is doubtless their natural representative. Man¬
ner is a better mark of the state of a mind, than
those large and deliberate actions which form
what is called conduct. It is the constant and
insensible transpiration of character. In serious
acts a man may display himself. In the thou¬
sand nameless acts which compose manner, the
mind betrays its habitual bent. But manner is
then only an index of disposition, when it is that
of men who live at ease in the intimate famili¬
arity of friends and equals. It may be diverted
from simplicity by causes which do not reach so
deep as the character; by bad models, or by a
restless and wearisome anxiety to shine, arising
from many circumstances, none of which are pro¬
bably more common than the unseasonable ex¬
ertions of a recluse student in society, and the
1 See Sir H. Moxcreiff’s Life of the Reverend Dr Ershine.
3 Welsh’s Life of Brown, p. 77, and App. p. 498.
3 A part of the first day’s minutes is here borrowed from Air Welsh:—“ 7th January 1797—Present, Air Erskine, Pre¬
sident,—Air Brougham, Mr Reddie, Mr Brown, AlrBirbeck, Air Leyden,” &c. who were afterwards joined by Lord Webb
keymour, Messrs Homer, Jeffrey, Smyth, &c. Mr Erskine, who thus appears at the head of so remarkable an association,
and whom diffidence and untoward circumstances have hitherto withheld from the full manifestation of his powers, conti-
pued to be the bosom friend of Brown to the last, and showed the constancy of his friendship for others by converting all his
invaluable preparations for a translation of Sultan Baber’s Commentaries (perhaps the best, certainly the most European
work of modern eastern prose) into the means of completing the imperfect attempt of Leyden ; with a regard equally ge¬
nerous to the fame of his early friend, and to the comfort of that friend’s surviving relations. The review of Baber’s Com.
mentaries, by Al. Silvestre de Sacy, in the Journal des Savans for May and June 1829, is perhaps one of the best specimens ex¬
tant of the value of literary commendation when it is bestowed with conscientious calmness, and without a suspicion of bias,
by oneof the greatest orientalists, in a case where he pronounces every thing to have been done by Air Erskine “ which
eould have been performed by the most learned and the most scrupulously conscientious of editors and translators.”
396
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
unfortunate attempts of some others, to take by
violence the admiration of those with whom
they do not associate with ease. The association
with unlike or superior companions which least
distorts manners, is that which takes place with
those classes whose secure dignity generally
renders their own manners easy; with whom
the art of pleasing or of not displeasing each
other in society is a serious concern; who have
leisure enough to discover the positive and ne¬
gative parts of the smaller moralities; and who,
being trained to a watchful eye on what is ludi¬
crous, apply the lash of ridicule to affectation,
the most ridiculous of faults. The busy in
every department of life are too respectably oc¬
cupied to form these manners or to bestow them.
They are the frivolous work of polished idleness ;
and perhaps their most serious value consists in
the war which they wage against affectation;
though even there they betray their nature in
punishing it, not as a deviation from nature, but
as a badge of vulgarity.
The prose of Dr Brown is brilliant to excess.
It must not be denied that its beauty is some¬
times womanly; that it too often melts down
precision into elegance ; that it buries the main
idea under a load of illustration, of which every
part is expanded and adorned with such a visi¬
ble labour, as to withdraw the mind from atten¬
tion to the thoughts which it professes to intro¬
duce more easily into the understanding. It is
darkened by excessive brightness ; it loses ease
and liveliness by over-dress; and, in the midst
of its luscious sweetness, we wish for the strik¬
ing and homely illustrations of Tucker, and for
the pithy and sinewy sense of Paley, either of
whom, by a single short metaphor from a fami¬
liar, perhaps a low object, could at one blow set
the two worlds of reason and fancy in move¬
ment.
It would be unjust to censure severely the de¬
clamatory parts of his Lectures; they are excus¬
able in the first warmth of composition. They
might even be j ustifiable allurements in attracting
young hearers to abstruse speculations. Had he
lived, he would probably have taken his thoughts
out of the declamatory forms of spoken address,
and given to them the appearance, as well as
the reality, of deep and subtile discussion. The
habits indeed of so successful a lecturer, and the
natural luxuriancy of his mind, could not fail to
have somewhat tinctured all his compositions;
but though he might still have fallen short of
simplicity, he certainly would have avoided
much of the diffusion, and even common-place,
which hang heavily on original and brilliant
thoughts; for it must be owned, that though, as
a thinker, he is unusually original, yet when he
falls among the declaimers, he is infected by
their common-places.
In like manner, he would assuredly have
shortened or left out many of the poetical quo¬
tations which he loved to recite, and which
hearers even beyond youth hear with delight.
There are two very different sorts of passages of
poetry to be found in works on philosophy,
which are as far asunder from each other in
value as in matter. A philosopher will admit
some of those wonderful lines or words which
bring to light the infinite varieties of character,
the furious bursts or wily workings of passion,
the winding approaches of temptation, the slip¬
pery path to depravity, the beauty of tender¬
ness, the grandeur of what is awful and holy in
man. In every such quotation, the moral phi¬
losopher, if he be successful, uses the best mate¬
rials of his science; for what are they but the
results of experiment and observation on the hu¬
man heart, performed by artists of far other skill
and power than his ? They are facts which could
have only been ascertained by Homer, by Dante,
by Shakspeare, by Cervantes, by Milton. Every
year of admiration since the unknown period
when the Iliad first gave delight, has extorted
new proofs of the justness of the picture of hu¬
man nature, from the responding hearts of the
admirers. Every strong feeling which these
masters have excited is a successful repetition
of their original experiment, and a continually
growing evidence of the greatness of their dis¬
coveries. Quotations of this nature may be the
most satisfactory, as well as the most delightful,
proofs of philosophical positions. Others of in¬
ferior merit are not to be interdicted: a pointed
maxim, especially when familiar, pleases, and is
recollected. I cannot entirely conquer my pas¬
sion for the Roman and Stoical declamation of
some passages in Lucan and Akenside. But
DISSERTATION SECOND.
397
quotations from those who have written on phi¬
losophy in verse, or, in other words, from those
who generally are inferior philosophers, and vo¬
luntarily deliver their doctrines in the most dis¬
advantageous form, seem to be unreasonable. It
is agreeable, no doubt, to the philosopher, still
more to the youthful student, to meet his abstruse
ideas clothed in the sonorous verse of Akenside.
The surprise of the unexpected union of verse
with science is a very lawful enjoyment. But
such slight and momentary pleasures, though
they may tempt the writer to display them, do not
excuse a vain effort to obtrude them on the sym¬
pathy of the searcher after truth in after-times.
It is peculiarly unlucky that Dr Brown should
have sought supposed ornament from the moral
common-places of Thomson, rather than from
that illustration of philosophy which is really to
be found in his picturesque strokes.
Much more need not be said of Dr Brown’s
own poetry, somewhat voluminous as it is, than
that it indicates fancy and feeling, and rose
at least to the rank of an elegant accomplish¬
ment. It may seem a paradox, hut it appears
to me that he is really most poetical in those
poems and passages which have the most pro¬
perly metaphysical character. For every various
form of life and nature, when it is habitually
contemplated, may inspire feeling; and the just
representation of these feelings may be poe¬
tical. Dr Brown observed man, and his wider
world, with the eye of a metaphysician; and
the dark results of such contemplations, when
he reviewed them, often filled his soul with
feelings which, being both grand and melan¬
choly, were truly poetical. Unfortunately, how¬
ever, few readers can be touched with fellow-
feeling. He sings to few, and must be content
with sometimes moving a string in the soul of
the lonely visionary, who, in the day-dreams of
youth, has felt as well as meditated on the mys¬
teries of nature. His heart has produced charm¬
ing passages in all his poems; but, generally
speaking, they are only beautiful works of art
and imitation. The choice of Akenside as a fa¬
vourite and a model may, without derogation
from that writer, be considered as no proof of a
poetically formed mind.1 There is more poetry
in many single lines of Cowper than in volumes
of sonorous verses such as Akenside’s. Philoso¬
phical poetry is very different from versified
philosophy. The former is the highest exertion
of genius, the latter cannot be ranked above thn
slighter amusements of ingenuity. Dr Brown’s
poetry was, it must be owned, composed either
of imitations, which, with some exceptions, may
be produced and read without feeling, or of effu¬
sions of such feelings only as meet a rare and
faint echo in the human breast.
A few words only can here be bestowed on the
intellectual part of his philosophy. It is an open
revolt against the authority of Reid; and, by a
curious concurrence, he began to lecture nearly
at the moment when the doctrines of that phi¬
losopher came to be taught with applause in
France. Mr Stewart had dissented from the
language of Reid, and had widely departed from
his opinions on several secondary theories. Dr
Brown rejected them entirely. He very justly
considered the claim of Reid to the merit of de*-
tecting the universal delusion which had be¬
trayed philosophers into the belief that ideas
which were the sole objects of knowledge had a
separate existence, as a proof of his having mis¬
taken their illustrative language for a metaphy¬
sical opinion;2 but he does not do justice to the
service which Reid really rendered to mental
science, by keeping the attention of all future
speculators in a state of more constant watchful¬
ness against the transient influence of such an
illusion. His choice of the term feeling9 to de¬
note the operations which we usually refer to
the understanding, is evidently too wide a de¬
parture from its ordinary use, to have any pro¬
bability of general adoption. No definition can
strip so familiar a word of the thoughts and
emotions which have so long accompanied it, so
as to fit it for a technical term of the highest
1 His accomplished friend Mr Erskine confesses that Brown’s poems “ are not written in the language of plain and gross
emotion. The string touched is too delicate for general sympathy. They are in an unknown tongue to one halt (he
might have said nineteen twentieths) “ of the reading part of the community.” (Welsh’s Life of Brown, 431.)
* Brown’s Lectures, vol. II. p. 1-49. * Nid, vol. I. p. 220, &c.
398
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
abstraction. If we can be said to have a feeling
“ of the equality of the angle of forty-five degrees
to half the angle of ninety degrees,”1 we may call
Geometry and Arithmetic sciences of feeling. He
has very forcibly stated the necessity of assum¬
ing “ the primary universal intuitions of direct be¬
lief,” which, in their nature, are incapable of all
proof. They seem to be accurately described as
notions which cannot be conceived separately,
but without which nothing can be conceived.
They are not only necessary to reasoning and to
belief, but to thought itself. It is equally im¬
possible to prove or to disprove them. He has
very justly blamed the school of Reid for “ an
extravagant and ridiculous” multiplication of
those principles which he truly represents as
inconsistent with sound philosophy. To philo¬
sophize is indeed nothing more than to simplify
securely.2
The substitution of suggestion for the former
phrase, association of ideas, would hardly deserve
notice in so cursory a view, if it had not led him
to a serious misconception of the doctrines and
deserts of other philosophers. The fault of the
latter phrase is rather in the narrowness of the
last, than in the inadequacy of the first word.
Association presents the fact in the light of a re¬
lation between two mental acts. Suggestion de¬
notes rather the power of the one to call up the
other. But whether we say that the sight of
ashes suggests fire, or that the ideas of fire and
ashes are associated, we mean to convey the
same fact; and, in both cases, an exact thinker
means to accompany the fact with no hypothe¬
sis. Dr Brown has supposed the word associa¬
tion as intended to affirm that there was some
“ intermediate process”3 between the original
succession of the mental acts, and the power
which they acquired therefrom of calling up
each other. This is quite as much to raise up
imaginary antagonists for the honour of con¬
quering them, as he justly reprehends Dr Reid
for doing in the treatment of preceding philoso¬
phers. He falls into another more important
and unaccountable error, in representing his own
reduction of Mr Hume’s principles of association
(resemblance, contrariety, causation, contiguity
in time or place) to the one principle of conti¬
guity, as a discovery of his own, by which his
theory is distinguished from “ the universal
opinion of philosophers.”4 Nothing but too ex¬
clusive a consideration of the doctrines of the
Scottish school could have led him to speak thus
of what was hinted by Aristotle, distinctly laid
down by Hobbes, and fully unfolded both by
Hartley and Condillac. He has, however, ex¬
tremely enlarged the proof and the illustration
of this law of mind, by the exercise of “ a more
subtile analysis,” and the disclosure of “ a finer
species of proximity.”5 As he has thus aided
and confirmed, though he did not discover the
general law, so he has rendered a new and very
important service to mental science, by what he
properly calls “ secondary laws of suggestion”9
or association,—circumstances which modify the
action of the general law, and must be distinct¬
ly considered, in order to explain its connection
with the phenomena. The enumeration and
exposition are instructive, and the example is
worthy of commendation. For it is in this lower
region of science that most remains to be dis¬
covered ; it is that which rests most on observa¬
tion, and least tempts to controversy; it is by
improvements in that part of knowledge that the
foundations are secured, and the whole building
so repaired as to rest steadily on them. The
distinction of common language between the
head and the heart, which, as we have seen, is
so often overlooked or misapplied by metaphy¬
sicians, is, in the system of Brown, signified by
the terms “ mental states” and tc emotions.” It
is unlucky that no single word could be found
for the former, and that the use of “ feeling,”
as the generic term, should disturb its easy
1 Brown’s Lectures, vol. I. p. 222.
* Dr Brown always expresses himself best where he is short and familiar. “ An hypothesis is nothing more than a rea¬
son for making one experiment or observation rather than another.” {Lectures, vol. I. p. 170.) In 1812, as the present
writer observed to him that Reid and Hume differed more in words than in opinion, he answered, “ Yes, Reid bawled out,
we must believe an outward world ; but added in a whisper, we can give no reason for our belief. Hume cries out, we can
give no reason for such a notion ; and whispers, I own we cannot get rid of it.”
3 Lectures, vol. II. p. 335-347- 4 llii. vol. II. p. 349. 5 Ibid. vol. II. p. 218, &c. * Ibid. vol. II. p- 270-
DISSERTATION SECOND.
399
comprehension when it is applied more natu¬
rally.
In our more proper province he has followed
Butler, who appears to have been chiefly known
to him through Mr Stewart, in the theory of the
social affections. Their disinterestedness is en¬
forced by the arguments of both these philoso¬
phers, as well as of Hutcheson.1 It is observ¬
able, however, that he applies the principle of
suggestion or association boldly to this part of
human nature, and seems inclined to refer to it
even sympathy itself.2 It is hard to understand
how, with such a disposition on the subject of a
principle so generally thought ultimate as Sym¬
pathy, he should, inconsistently with himself, fol¬
low Mr Stewart in representing the theory which
derives the affections from association as “ a
Modification of the Selfish System.”5 He mistakes
that theory by stating, that it derives the affec¬
tions from our experience that our own interest
was connected with that of others; while in
truth it considers our regard to our own interest
as formed from the same original pleasures by
association, which, by the like process, may and
do directly generate affections towards others,
without passing through the channel of regard
to our general happiness. But, says he, this is
only an hypothesis, since the formation of these
affections is acknowledged to belong to a time
of which there is no remembrance;4—an objec¬
tion fatal to every theory of any mental function,
—subversive, for example, of Berkeley’s discovery
of acquired visual perception, and most strange¬
ly inconsistent in the mouth of a philosopher
whose numerous simplifications of mental theory
are and must be founded on occurrences which
precede experience. It is in all other cases, and
it must be in this, sufficient that the principle of
the theory is really existing, that it explains the
appearances, that its supposed action resembles
what we know to be its action in those similar
cases of which we have direct experience. Last¬
ly, he in express words admits that, according
to the theory to which he objects, we have af¬
1 Brown’s Lectures, vol. III. p. 248.
* Ibi&. vol. III. p. 282.
3 Ibid,, vol. IV. p. 82, ct seq.
4 Ibid. vol. IV. p. 87*
fections which are at present disinterested.5 Is
it not a direct contradiction in terms to call
such a theory “ a modification of the selfish
system?” His language in the sequel clearly
indicates a distrust of his own statement, and a
suspicion that he is not only inconsistent, but
altogether mistaken.6
As we enter more deeply into the territory of
Ethics, we at length discover in Brown a distinc¬
tion, the neglect of which by preceding specula¬
tors we have more than once lamented as pro¬
ductive of obscurity and confusion:—“ The
moral affections,” says he, “ which I consider at
present, I consider rather physiologically” (or,
as he elsewhere better expresses it, “ psycholo¬
gically”) “ than ethically, as parts of our mental
constitution, not as involving \he fulfilment or vio¬
lation of duties.”'7 He immediately, however,
loses sight of this distinction, and reasons incon¬
sistently with it, instead of following it to its
proper consequences in his explanation of con¬
science. Perhaps, indeed, (for the words are
capable of more than one sense,) he meant to
distinguish the virtuous affections from those
sentiments which have morality exclusively in
view, rather than to distinguish the theory of
moral sentiment from the attempt to ascertain
the characteristic quality of right action. Friend¬
ship is conformable in its dictates to morality;
but it may, and does exist, without any view to
it. He who feels the affections, and performs
the duties of friendship, is the object of that
distinct emotion which is called moral appro¬
bation.
It is on the subject of conscience that, in imi¬
tation of Mr Stewart, and with no other argu¬
ments than his, he makes bis chief stand against
the theory which considers the formation of that
master faculty itself as probably referable to the
necessary and universal operation of those laws
of human nature to which he himself ascribes
almost every other state of mind. On both sides
of this question the supremacy of conscience is
alike held to be venerable and absolute. Once
5 Ibid. vol. IV. p. 87-
« Ibid. vol. IV. p. 94-97*
J Ibid. vol. III. p. 231.
400
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
more, be it remembered, that the question is
purely philosophical, and is only whether, from
the impossibility of explaining its formation by
more general laws, we are reduced to the neces¬
sity of considering it as an original fact in hu¬
man nature, of which no further account can be
given. Let it, however, be also remembered,
that we are not driven to this supposition by
the mere circumstance, that no satisfactory ex¬
planation has yet appeared; for there are many
analogies in an unexplained state of mind to
states already explained, which may justify ns
in believing that the explanation requires only
more accurate observation, and more patient
meditation, to be brought to that completeness
which it probably will attain.
SECTION VIL
GENERAL REMARKS.
Having thus again premised an already often
repeated warning, it remains that we should
offer a few observations on the questions so
understood, which naturally occur on the con¬
sideration of Dr Brown’s argument in sup¬
port of the proposition, that moral approbation
is not only in its mature state independent of
and superior to any other principle of human
nature, regarding which there is no dispute, but
that its origin is altogether inexplicable, and
that its existence is an ultimate fact in mental
science. Though these observations are imme¬
diately occasioned by the perusal of Brown, they
are yet, in the main, of a general nature, and
might have been made without reference to any
particular writer.
The term Suggestion, which might be inof¬
fensive in describing merely intellectual asso¬
ciations, becomes peculiarly unsuitable when it
is applied to those combinations of thought with
emotion, and to those unions of feeling, which
compose the emotive nature of man. Its com¬
mon sense of a sign recalling the thing signified,
always embroils the new sense vainly forced
upon it. No one can help owning, that if it
were consistently pursued, so as that we were to
speak of suggesting a feeling or passion, the lan¬
guage would be universally thought absurd. To
suggest love or hatred is a mode of expression so
manifestly incongruous, that most readers would
choose to understand it as suggesting reflections
on the subject of these passages. Suggest would
not be understood by any common reason as sy¬
nonymous with revive or rekindle. Defects of
the same sort may indeed be found in the pa¬
rallel phrases of most if not all philosophers,
and all of them proceed from the same source,—
namely, the erroneous but prevalent notion, that
the law of association produces only such a close
union of a thought and a feeling, as gives one
the power of reviving the other; instead of the
truth, that it forms them into a new compound,
in which the properties of the component parte
are no longer discoverable, and which may itself
become a substantive principle of human nature.
They supposed the condition, produced by its
power, to resemble that of material substances
in a state of mechanical diffusion; whereas in
reality it may be better likened to a chemical
combination of the same substances, from which
a totally new product arises. The language in¬
volves a confusion of the question which relates
to the origin of the principles of human activity,
with the other and far more important question
which relates to their nature; and as soon as
this distinction is hidden, the theorist is either
betrayed into the selfish system by a desire of
clearness and simplicity, or tempted to the need¬
less multiplication of ultimate facts by mistaken
anxiety for what he supposes to be the guards of
our social and moral nature. The defect is com¬
mon to Brown with his predecessors, but in him
less excusable; for he saw the truth and recoil¬
ed from it.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
401
It is the main defect of the term association
itself, that it does not, without long habit, convey
the notion of a perfect union, but rather leads
to that of a combination which may be dissolved,
if not at pleasure, at least with the help of care
and exertion ; which is utterly and dangerously
false in the important cases where such unions
are considered as constituting the most essential
principles of human nature. Men can no more
dissolve these unions than they can disuse their
habit of judging of distance by the eye, and
often by the ear. But suggestion implies, that
what suggests is separate from what is suggest¬
ed, and consequently negatives that unity in an
active principle which the whole analogy of na¬
ture, as well as our own direct consciousness,
shows to be perfectly compatible with its origin
in composition.
Large concessions are, in the first place, to -be
remarked, which must be stated, because they
very much narrow the matter in dispute. Those
who, before Brown, contended against beneficial
tendency as the standard of morality, have
either shut their eyes on the connection of vir¬
tue with general utility; or carelessly and ob¬
scurely allowed, without further remark, a con¬
nection which is at least one of the most re¬
markable and important of ethical facts. He
acts more boldly, and avowedly discusses “ the
relation of virtue to utility.” He was compell¬
ed by that discussion to make those concessions
which so much abridge this controversy. “ Uti¬
lity and virtue are so related, that there is per¬
haps no action generally felt to be virtuous,
which it would not be beneficial that all men in
similar circumstances should imitate.”1 “ In
every case of benefit or injury willingly done,
there arise certain emotions of moral appro¬
bation or disapprobation.” 2' “ The intentional
produce of evil, as pure evil, is always hated ;
and that of good, as pure good, always loved.”3
All virtuous acts are thus admitted to be uni¬
versally beneficial; morality and the general
benefit are acknowledged always to coincide. It
is hard to say, then, why they should not be re¬
ciprocally tests of each other, though in a very
different way;—the virtuous feelings, fitted as
they are by immediate appearance, by quick and
powerful action, being sufficient tests of mora¬
lity in the moment of action, and for all prac¬
tical purposes ; while the consideration of ten¬
dency to general happiness, a more obscure and
slowly discoverable quality, should be applied
in general reasoning, as a test of the sentiments
and dispositions themselves. It has been thus
employed, and no proof has been attempted, that
it has ever deceived those who used it in the pro¬
per place. It has uniformly served to justify our
moral constitution, and to show how reasonable
it is for us to be guided in action by our higher
feelings. At all events it should be, but has not
been considered, that from these concessions alone
it follows, that beneficial tendency is at least one
constant property of virtue. Is not this, in effect,
an admission that beneficial tendency does dis¬
tinguish virtuous acts and dispositions from those
which we call vicious ? If the criterion be in¬
complete or delusive, let its faults be specified,
and let some other quality be pointed out, which,
either singly or in combination with beneficial
tendency, may more perfectly indicate the dis¬
tinction.
But let us not be assailed by arguments which
leave untouched its value as a test, and are in
truth directed only against its fitness as an m-
mediate incentive and guide to right action. To
those who contend for its use in the latter cha¬
racter, it must be left to defend, if they can, so
untenable a position. But all others must re¬
gard as pure sophistry the use of arguments
against it as a test, which really show nothing
more than its acknowledged unfitness to be a
motive.
When voluntary benefit and voluntary injury
are pointed out as the main, if not the sole ob¬
jects of moral approbation and disapprobation,—
when we are told truly, that the production of
good, as good, is always loved, and that of evil,
1 Lectures, vol. IV. p. 45. The unphilosophical word “ perhaps” must be struck out of the proposition, unless the
whole be considered as a mere conjecture. It limits no affirmation, but destroys it, by converting it into a guess. See the
like concession, vol. IV. p. 33, with some words interlarded, which betray a sort of reluctance and fluctuation, indicative of
the difficulty with which Brown struggled to withhold his assent from truths which he unreasonably dreaded.
* IUd. vol. III. p. 567.
3 Hid. vol. III. p. 621.
D1SS. II. 3 E
402
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
as such, always hated,—can we require a more
clear, short, and unanswerable proof, that bene¬
ficial tendency is an essential quality of virtue ?
It is indeed an evidently necessary consequence
of this statement, that if benevolence he amiable
in itself, our affection for it must increase with
its extent; and that no man can be in a per¬
fectly right state of mind, who, if he consider
general happiness at all, is not ready to acknow¬
ledge that a good man must regard it as being
in its own nature the most desirable of all objects,
however the constitution and circumstances of
human nature may render it unfit or impossible
to pursue it directly as the object of life. It is
at the same time apparent that no such man
can consider any habitual disposition, clearly
discerned to be in its whole result at variance
with general happiness, as not unworthy of being
cultivated, or as not fit to be rooted out. It is
manifest that, if it were otherwise, he would
cease to be benevolent. As soon as we conceive
the sublime idea of a Being who not only fore¬
sees, but commands, all the consequences of the
actions of all voluntary agents, this scheme of
reasoning appears far more clear. In such a
case, if our moral sentiments remain the same,
they compel us to attribute his whole govern¬
ment of the world to benevolence. The conse¬
quence is as necessary as in any process of rea¬
son ; for if our moral nature be supposed, it
will appear self-evident, that it is as much im¬
possible for us to love and revere such a Being,
if we ascribe to him a mixed or imperfect bene¬
volence, as to believe the most positive contra¬
diction in terms. Now, as religion consists in
that love and reverence, it is evident that it can¬
not subsist without a belief in benevolence as
the sole principle of divine government. It is
nothing to tell us that this is not a process of
reasoning, or, to speak more exactly, that the
first propositions are assumed. The first propo¬
sitions in every discussion relating to intellectual
operations must likewise be assumed. Con¬
science is not reason, but it is not less an es¬
sential part of human nature than reason. Prin¬
ciples which are essential to all its operations
are as much entitled to immediate and implicit
assent, as those principles which stand in the
same relation to the reasoning faculties. The
laws prescribed by a benevolent Being to his
creatures must necessarily be founded on the
principle of promoting their happiness. It would
be singular indeed, if the proofs of the goodness
of God, legible in every part of nature, should
not, above all others, be most discoverable aud
conspicuous in the beneficial tendency of his
moral laws.
But we are asked, if tendency to general wel¬
fare be the standard of virtue, why is it not al¬
ways present to the contemplation of every man
who does or prefers a virtuous action ? Must
not utility be in that case <e the felt essence of
virtue ?”1 Why are other ends, besides general
happiness, fit to be morally pursued ?
These questions, which are all founded on
that confusion of the theory of actions with the
theory of sentiments, against which the reader
was so early warned,2 might he dismissed with
no more than a reference to that distinction from
the forgetfulness of which they have arisen. By
those advocates of utility, indeed, who hold it to
be a necessary part of their system, that some
glimpse at least of tendency to personal or ge¬
neral wellbeing is an essential part of the mo¬
tives which render an action virtuous, these
questions cannot be satisfactorily answered.
Against such they are arguments of irresistible
force; but against the doctrine itself, rightly
understood and justly bounded, they are alto¬
gether powerless. The reason why there may,
and must be, many ends morally more fit to he
pursued in practice than general happiness, is
plainly to be found in the limited capacity of
man. A perfectly good Being, who foresees and
commands all the consequences of action, can¬
not indeed be conceived by us to have any other
end in view than general wellbeing. Why evil
exists under that perfect government, is a ques¬
tion towards the solution of which the human
understanding can scarcely advance a single step.
But all who hold the evil to exist only for good,
and own their inability to explain why or how,
1 Lectures, vol, IV. p. 38.
3 See supra, p. 297-299.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
403
are perfectly exempt from any charge of incon¬
sistency in their obedience to the dictates of their
moral nature. The measure of the faculties of
man renders it absolutely necessary for him to
have many other practical ends; the pursuit of
all of which is moral, when it actually tends to
general happiness, though that last end never
entered into the contemplation of the agent. It
is impossible for us to calculate the effects of a
single action, any more than the chances of a
single life. But let it not be hastily concluded,
that the calculation of consequences is impossible
in moral subjects. To calculate the general
tendency of every sort of human action, is a
possible, easy, and common operation. The ge¬
neral good effects of temperance, prudence, for¬
titude, justice, benevolence, gratitude, veracity,
fidelity,—of the affections of kindred, and of love
for our country,—are the subjects of calculations
which, taken as generalities, are absolutely un¬
erring. They are founded on a larger and firmer
basis of more uniform experience, than any of
those ordinary calculations which govern pru¬
dent men in the whole business of life. An
appeal to these daily and familiar transactions
furnishes at once a decisive answer, both to
those advocates of utility who represent the con¬
sideration of it as a necessary ingredient in vir¬
tuous motives, as well as moral approbation,
and to those opponents who turn the unwar¬
rantable inferences of unskilful advocates into
proofs of the absurdity into which the doctrine
leads.
The cultivation of all the habitual sentiments
from which the various classes of virtuous actions
flow—the constant practice of such actions—
the strict observance of rules in all that province
of Ethics which can be subjected to rules—the
watchful care of all the outworks of every part
of duty, of that descending series of useful ha¬
bits which, being securities to virtue, become
themselves virtues,—are so many ends which
it is absolutely necessary for man to pursue and
to seek for their own sake.
“ I saw D’Alembert,” says a very late writer,
“ congratulate a young man very coldly, who
brought him a solution of a problem. The young
man said, ‘ I have done this in order to have a
seat in the Academy.’ 4 Sir,’ answered D’Alem¬
bert, 4 with such dispositions you never will earn
one. Science must be loved for its own sake,
and not for the advantage to be derived. No
other principle will enable a man to make pro¬
gress in the sciences.’”1 It is singular that
D’Alembert should not perceive the extensive
application of this truth to the whole nature of
man. No man can make progress in a virtue
who does not seek it for its own sake. No man
is a friend, a lover of his country, a kind father,
a dutiful son, who does not consider the culti¬
vation of affection and the performance of duty
in all these cases respectively as incumbent on
him for their own sake, and not for the advan¬
tage to be derived from them. Whoever serves
another with a view of advantage to himself is
universally acknowledged not to act from affec¬
tion. But the more immediate application of
this truth to our purpose is, that in the case of
those virtues which are the means of cultivating
and preserving other virtues, it is necessary to
acquire love and reverence for the secondary
virtues for their own sake, without which they
never will he effectual means of sheltering and
strengthening those intrinsically higher qualities
to which they are appointed to minister. Every
moral act must be considered as an end, and men
must banish from their practice the regard to
the most naturally subordinate duty as a means.
Those who are perplexed by the supposition
that secondary virtues, making up by the extent
of their beneficial tendency for what in each
particular instance they may want in magnitude,
may become of as great importance as the pri¬
mary virtues themselves, would do well to con¬
sider a parallel though very homely case. A
house is useful for many purposes: many of
these purposes are in themselves, for the time,
more important than shelter. The destruction
of the house may, nevertheless, become a greater
evil than the defeat of several of these purposes,
because it is permanently convenient, and indeed
necessary to the execution of most of them. A
1 Memoires de Montlosicr, vol. I. p. 50.
404
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
floor is made for warmth, for dryness—to sup¬
port tables, chairs, beds, and all the household
implements which contribute to accommodation
and to pleasure. The floor is valuable only as
a means; hut, as the only means by which many
ends are attained, it may he much more valuable
than some of them. The table might he, and
generally is, of more valuable timber than the
floor; hut the workman who should for that rea¬
son take more pains in making the table strong
than the floor secure would not long be employ¬
ed by customers of common sense. The connec¬
tion of that part of morality which regulates the
intercourse of the sexes with benevolence, affords
the most striking instance of the very great im¬
portance which may belong to a virtue, in itself
secondary, but on which the general cultivation
of the highest virtues permanently depends.
Delicacy and modesty may be thought chiefly
worthy of cultivation, because they guard purity;
but they must be loved for their own sake, with¬
out which they cannot flourish. Purity is the
sole school of domestic fidelity, and domestic
fidelity is the only nursery of the affections be¬
tween parents and children, from children to¬
wards each other, and, through these affections,
of all the kindness which renders the world habit¬
able. At each step in the progress, the appropriate
end must be loved for its own sake; and it is easy
to see how the only means of sowing the seeds
of benevolence, in all its forms, may become of
far greater importance than many of the modi¬
fications and exertions even of benevolence it¬
self. To those who will consider this subject,
it will not long seem strange that the sweetest
and most gentle affections grow up only under
the apparently cold and dark shadow of stern
duty. The obligation is strengthened, not weak¬
ened, by the consideration that it arises from
human imperfection; which only proves it to
be founded on the nature of man. It is enough
that the pursuit of all these separate ends leads
to general wellbeing, the promotion of winch is
the final purpose of the creation.
The last and most specious argument against
beneficial tendency, even as a test, is conveyed in
the question, why moral approbation is not be¬
stowed on every thing beneficial, instead of be¬
ing confined, as it confessedly is, to voluntary
acts. It may plausibly be said, that the esta¬
blishment of the beneficial tendency of all those
voluntary acts which are the objects of moral
approbation is not sufficient, since, if such ten¬
dency be the standard, it ought to follow, that
whatever is useful should also be morally ap¬
proved. To answer, as has before been done,1
that experience gradually limits moral approba¬
tion and disapprobation to voluntary acts, by
teaching us that they influence the will, but are
wholly wasted if they be applied to any other
object,—though the fact be true, and contributes
somewhat to the result, is certainly not enough.
It is at best a partial solution. Perhaps, on re¬
consideration, it is entitled only to a secondary
place. To seek a foundation for universal, ar¬
dent, early, and immediate feelings, in processes
of an intellectual nature, has, since the origin of
philosophy, been the grand error of ethical in¬
quirers into human nature. To seek for such a
foundation in association, an early and insen¬
sible process, which confessedly mingles itself
with the composition of our first and simplest
feelings, and which is common to both parts
of our nature, is not liable to the same ani¬
madversion. If conscience be uniformly pro¬
duced by the regular and harmonious co-opera¬
tion of many processes of association, the ob¬
jection is in reality a challenge to produce a
complete theory of it, founded on that princi¬
ple, by exhibiting such a full account of all
these processes as may satisfactorily explain why
it proceeds thus far and no farther. This
would be a very arduous attempt, and perhaps
it may be premature. But something may be
more modestly tried towards an outline, which,
though it might leave many particulars unex¬
plained, may justify a reasonable expectation
that they are not incapable of explanation; and
may even now assign such reasons for the limi¬
tation of approbation to voluntary acts, as may
convert the objection derived from that fact into
a corroboration of the doctrines to which it has
1 See supra, p. 356, 357
DISSERTATION SECOND,
405
been opposed as an insurmountable difficulty.
Such an attempt will naturally lead to the close
of the present Dissertation. The attempt has
indeed been already made,1 but not without
great apprehensions on the part of the author
that he has not been clear enough, especially in
those parts which appeared to himself to owe
most to his own reflection. He will now en¬
deavour, at the expense of some repetition, to be
more satisfactory.
There must be primary pleasures, pains, and
even appetites, which arise from no prior state
of mind, and which, if explained at all, can be
derived only from bodily organization ; for if
there were not, there could be no secondary de¬
sires. What the number of the underived prin¬
ciples may be, is a question to which the an¬
swers of philosophers have been extremely va¬
rious, and of which the consideration is not
necessary to our present purpose. The rules
of philosophizing, however, require that causes
should not be multiplied without necessity. Of
two explanations, therefore, which give an
equally satisfactory account of appearances, that
theory is manifestly to be preferred which sup¬
poses the smaller number of ultimate and inex¬
plicable principles. This maxim, it is true, is
subject to three indispensable conditions. 1.
That the principles employed in the explanation
should be known really to exist: in which con¬
sists the main distinction between hypothesis and
theory. Gravity is a principle universally known
to exist; ether and a nervous fluid are mere
suppositions. 2. That these principles should
be known to produce effects like those which
are ascribed to them in the theory. This is
a further distinction between hypothesis and
theory; for there are an infinite number of de¬
grees of likeness, from the faint resemblances
which have led some to fancy that the functions
°f the nerves depend on electricity, to the re¬
markable coincidences between the appearances
of projectiles on earth, and the movements of
the heavenly bodies, which constitutes the New¬
tonian system ; a theory now perfect, though
exclusively founded on analogy, and in which
one of the classes of phenomena brought toge¬
ther by it is not the subject of direct experience.
3. That it should correspond, if not with all the
facts to be explained, at least with so great a
majority of them as to render it highly proba¬
ble that means will in time be found of reconcil¬
ing it to all. It is only on this ground that the
Newtonian system justly claimed the title of a
legitimate theory during that long period when
it was unable to explain many celestial appear¬
ances, before the labours of a century, and the
genius of Laplace, at length completed the
theory, by adapting it to all the phenomena. A
theory may be just before it is complete.
In the application of these canons to the
theory which derives most of the principles of
human action from the transfer of a small num¬
ber of pleasures, perhaps organic, by the law of
association to a vast variety of new objects, it
cannot be denied, ls£, That it satisfies the first of
the above conditions, inasmuch as association is
really one of the laws of human nature; 2dly,
That it also satisfies the second, for association
certainly produces effects like those which are
referred to it by this theory, otherwise there
would be no secondary desires, no acquired re¬
lishes and dislikes;—facts universally acknow¬
ledged, which are and can be explained only by
the principle called by Hobbes mental discourse;
—by Locke, Hume, Hartley, Condillac, and tbe
majority of speculators, as well as in common
speech, association;—by Tucker, translation;—
and by Brown, suggestion. The facts generally
referred to the principle resemble those which
are claimed for it by the theory in this important
particular, that in both cases equally, pleasure
becomes attached to perfectly new things, so
that the derivative desires become perfectly in¬
dependent on the primary. The great dissimi¬
larity of these two classes of passions lias been
supposed to consist in this, that the former al¬
ways regards the interest of the individual, while
the latter regards the welfare of others. The
philosophical world has been almost entirely di¬
vided into two sects; the partisans of selfishness,
comprising mostly all the predecessors of Butler,
1 See supra, p. 346-7, 365-9.
406
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
and the greater part of his successors; and the
advocates of benevolence, who have generally
contended that the reality of disinterestedness de¬
pends on its being a primary principle. Enough
has been said by Butler against the more fa¬
tal heresy of selfishness. Something has al¬
ready been said against the error of the ad¬
vocates of disinterestedness, in the progress of
this attempt to develope ethical truths histo¬
rically, in the order in which inquiry and con¬
troversy brought them out with increasing
brightness. The analogy of the material world
is indeed faint, and often delusive; yet we
dare not utterly reject that on which the whole
technical language of mental and moral science
is necessarily grounded. The whole creation
teems with instances where the most powerful
agents and the most lasting bodies are the ac¬
knowledged results of the composition, some¬
times of a few, often of many elements. These
compounds often in their turn become the ele¬
ments of other substances ; and it is with them
that we are conversant chiefly in the pursuits of
knowledge, solely in the concerns of life. No
man ever fancied, that because they were com¬
pounds, they were therefore less real. It is
impossible to confound them with any of the
separate elements which contribute towards
their formation. But a much more close resem¬
blance presents itself. Every secondary desire,
or acquired relish, involves in it a transfer of
pleasure to something which was before indiffer¬
ent or disagreeable. Is the new pleasure the
less real for being acquired ? Is it not often pre¬
ferred to the original enjoyment ? Are not many
of these secondary pleasures indestructible ? Do
not many of them survive primary appetites ?
Lastly, the important principle of regard to
our own general welfare, which disposes us to
prefer it to immediate pleasure, unfortunately
called self-love (as if, in any intelligible sense of
the term love, it were possible for a man to love
himself), is perfectly intelligible if its origin be
ascribed to association, but utterly incompre¬
hensible if it be considered as prior to the appe¬
tites and desires, which alone furnish it with
materials. As happiness consists of satisfactions,
self-love presupposes appetites and desires which
are to be satisfied. If the order of time were
impoi-tant, the affections are formed at an earlier
period than many self-regarding passions, and
they always precede the formation of self-love.
Many of the later advocates of the disinterest¬
ed system, though recoiling from an apparent
approach to the selfishness into which the purest
of their antagonists had occasionally fallen,
were gradually obliged to make concessions to
the derivative system, though clogged with the
contradictory assertion, that it was only a refine¬
ment of selfishness: and we have seen that
Brown, the last and not the least in genius of
them, has nearly abandoned the greater, though
not indeed the most important part of the terri¬
tory in dispute, and scarcely contends for any
underived principle but the moral faculty.
In this state of opinion among the very small
number in Great Britain who still preserve some
remains of a taste for such speculations, it is
needless here to trace the application of the law
of association to the formation of the secondary
desires, whether private or social. For our pre¬
sent purposes, the explanation of their origin
may be assumed to be satisfactory. In what
follows, it must, however, be steadily borne in
mind, that this concession involves an admission
that the pleasure derived from low objects may
be transferred to the most pure; that from a
part of a self-regarding appetite such a pleasure
may become a portion of a perfectly disinterest¬
ed desire ; and that the disinterested nature and
absolute independence of the latter are not in
the slightest degree impaired by the considera¬
tion, that it is formed by one of those grand
mental processes to which the formation of the
other habitual states of the human mind have
been, with great probability, ascribed.
When the social affections are thus formed,
they are naturally followed in every instance by
the will to do whatever can promote their object.
Compassion excites a voluntary determination
to do whatever relieves the person pitied. The
like process must occur in every case of grati¬
tude, generosity, and affection. Nothing so
uniformly follows the kind disposition as the act
of will, because it is the only means by which
the benevolent desire can be gratified. The re¬
sult of what Bi*own justly calls “afiner analysis,
shows a mental contiguity of the affection to the
DISSERTATION SECOND.
407
volition to be much closer than appears on a
coarser examination of this part of our nature.
No wonder, then, that the strongest association,
the most active power of reciprocal suggestion,
should subsist between them. As all the affec¬
tions are delightful, so the volitions, voluntary
acts which are the only means of their gratifica¬
tion, become agreeable objects of contemplation
to the mind. The habitual disposition to per¬
form them is felt in ourselves, and observed in
others, with satisfaction. As these feelings be¬
come more lively, the absence of them may be
viewed in ourselves with a pain, in others with
an alienation capable of indefinite increase. They
become entirely independent sentiments; still,
however, receiving constant supplies of nourish¬
ment from their parent affections, which, in
well-balanced minds, reciprocally strengthen
each other; unlike the unkind passions, which
are constantly engaged in the most angry con¬
flicts of civil war. In this state we desire to
experience these beneficent volitions, to cultivate
a disposition towards them, and to do every cor¬
respondent voluntary act. They are for their own
sake the objects of desire. They thus constitute
a large portion of those emotions, desires, and
affections, which regard certain dispositions of
the mind and determinations of the will as their
sole and ultimate end. These are what are called
the moral sense, the moral sentiments, or best
though most simply, by the ancient name of Con¬
science; which has the merit, in our language, of
being applied to no other purpose, which pecu¬
liarly marks the strong working of these feelings
on conduct, and which, from its solemn and sacred
character, is well adapted to denote the vener¬
able authority of the highest principle of human
nature.
Nor is this all: It has already been seen that
not only sympathy with the sufferer, but indig¬
nation against the wrong-doer, contributes a
large and important share towards the moral
feelings. We are angry at those who disappoint
our wish for the happiness of others. We make
the resentment of the innocent person wronged
our own. Our moderate anger approves all
well-proportioned punishmentof the wrong-doer.
We hence approve those dispositions and actions
of voluntary agents which promote such suitable
punishment, and disapprove those which hinder
its infliction or destroy its effect; at the head
of which may be placed that excess of punish¬
ment beyond the average feelings of good men
which turns the indignation of the calm by¬
stander against the culprit into pity. In this
state, when anger is duly moderated,—when
it is proportioned to the wrong,—when it is
detached from personal considerations,—when
dispositions and actions are its ultimate objects,—it
becomes a sense of justice, and is so purified as
to be fitted to be a new element of conscience.
There is no part of morality which is so directly
aided by a conviction of the necessity of its ob¬
servance to the general interest, as justice. The
connection between them is discoverable by the
most common understanding. All public deli¬
berations profess the public welfare to be their
object; all laws propose it as their end. This
calm principle of public utility serves to me¬
diate between the sometimes repugnant feelings
which arise in the punishment of criminals,
by repressing undue pity on one hand, and re¬
ducing resentment to its proper level on the
other. Hence the unspeakable importance of
criminal laws as a part of the moral education
of mankind. Whenever they carefully conform
to the moral sentiments of the age and country,
—when they are withheld from approaching the
limits within which the disapprobation of good
men would confine punishment, they contribute
in the highest degree to increase the ignominy
of crimes, to make men recoil from the first sug¬
gestions of criminality, and to nourish and ma¬
ture the sense of justice, which lends new vigour
to the conscience with which it has been united.
Other contributary streams present them¬
selves. Qualities which are necessary to virtue,
but may be subservient to vice, may, independ¬
ently of that excellence or of that defect, be in
themselves admirable. Courage, energy, deci¬
sion, are of this nature. In their wild state
they are often savage and destructive. When
they are tamed by the society of the affections,
and trained up in obedience to the moral facul¬
ty, they become virtues of the highest order,
and, by their name of magnanimity, proclaim
the general sense of mankind that they are the
characteristic qualities of a great soul. They
408
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
retain whatever was admirable in their unre¬
claimed state, together with all that they borrow
from their new associate and their high ruler.
Their nature, it must be owned, is prone to
evil; but this propensity does not hinder them
from being rendered capable of being ministers
of good, in a state where the gentler virtues re¬
quire to be vigorously guarded against the attacks
of daring depravity. It is thus that the strength
of the well-educated elephant is sometimes em¬
ployed in vanquishing the fierceness of the tiger,
and sometimes used as a means of defence against
the shock of his brethren of the same species.
The delightful contemplation, however, of these
qualities, when purely applied, becomes one of the
sentiments of which the dispositions and actions
of voluntary agents are the direct and final object.
By this resemblance they are associated with
the other moral principles, and with them con¬
tribute to form Conscience, which, as the master
faculty of the soul, levies such large contribu¬
tions on every province of human nature.
It is important, in this point of view, to con¬
sider also the moral approbation which is un¬
doubtedly bestowed on those dispositions and ac¬
tions of voluntary agents which terminate in their
own satisfaction, security, and wellbeing. They
have been called duties to ourselves, as absurd¬
ly as a regard to our own greatest happiness is
called self-love. But it cannot be reasonably
doubted, that intemperance, improvidence, ti¬
midity, even when considered only in relation
to the individual, are not only regretted as im¬
prudent, but blamed as morally wrong. It was
excellently observed by Aristotle, that a man is
not commended as temperate, so long as it costs
him efforts of self-denial to persevere in the
practice of temperance, but only when he pre¬
fers that virtue for its own sake. He is not meek,
nor brave, as long as the most vigorous self-
command is necessary to bridle his anger or his
fear. On the same principle, he may be judi¬
cious or prudent; but he is not benevolent if he
confers benefits with a view to his own greatest
happiness. In like manner, it is ascertained by
experience, that all the masters of science and
of art—that all those who have successfully
pursued truth and knowledge—love them for
their own sake, without regard to the gene¬
rally imaginary dower of interest, or even to
the dazzling crown which fame may place on
their heads.1 But it may still be reasonably
asked, why these useful qualities are morally im¬
proved, and how they become capable of being
combined with those public and disinterested
sentiments which principally constitute con¬
science ? The answer is, because they are en¬
tirely conversant with volitions and voluntary
actions, and in that respect resemble the other
constituents of conscience, with which they are
thereby fitted to mingle and coalesce. Like
those other principles, they may be detached
from what is personal and outward, and fixed on
the dispositions and actions, which are the only
means of promoting their ends. The sequence
of these principles and acts of will becomes so fre¬
quent, that the association between both may be
as firm as in the former cases. All those senti¬
ments of which the final object is astateof the will,
become thus intimately and inseparably blended;
and of that perfect state of solution (if such
words may be allowed) the result is Conscience
—the judge and arbiter of human conduct;
which, though it does not supersede ordinary mo¬
tives of virtuous feelings and habits, which are
the ordinary motives of good actions, yet exer¬
cises a lawful authority even over them, and
ought to blend with them. Whatsoever actions
and dispositions are approved by conscience
acquire the name of virtues or duties : they are
pronounced to deserve commendation ; and we
ai'e justly considered as under amoral obligation to
practise the actions and cultivate the dispositions.
The coalition of the private and public feel-
1 See the Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties, a discourse forming the first part of the third volume of the Library of
Entertaining Knowledge, London, 1829. The author of this Essay, for it can be no other than Mr Brougham, will by others
be placed at the head of those who, in the midst of arduous employments, and surrounded by all the allurements of society,
yet find leisure for exerting the unwearied vigour of their minds in every mode of rendering permanent service to the hu¬
man species ; more especially in spreading a love of knowledge, and diffusing useful truth among all classes of men. These
voluntary occupations deserve our attention still less as examples of prodigious power than as proofs of an intimate con¬
viction, which binds them by unity of purpose with his public duties, that (to use the almost dying words of an excellent
person) “ man can neither be happy without virtue, nor actively virtuous without liberty, nor securely free without rational
knowledge.” (Close of Sir W. Jones’s last Discourse to the Asiatic Society of Calcutta.)
DISSERTATJON SECOND.
409
ings is very remarkable in two points of view,
from which it seems hitherto to have been scarce¬
ly observed. First, It illustrates very forcibly
all that has been here offered to prove, that the
peculiar character of the moral sentiments con¬
sists in their exclusive reference to states of will,
and that every feeling which has that quality,
when it is purified from all admixture with dif¬
ferent objects, becomes capable of being absorb¬
ed into Conscience, and of being assimilated to
it, so as to become a part of it. For no feelings
can be more unlike each other in their object
than the private and the social; and yet, as both
employ voluntary actions as their sole immedi¬
ate means, both may be transferred by associa¬
tion to states of the will, in which case they are
transmuted into moral sentiments. No exam¬
ple of the coalition of feelings in their general
nature less widely asunder, could afford so much
support to this position. Secondly, By raising
qualities useful to ourselves to the rank of virtues,
it throws a strong light on the relation of virtue
to individual interest; very much as justice illus¬
trates the relation of morality to general interest.
The coincidence of morality with individual inte¬
rest is an important truth in Ethics. It is most
manifest in that part of Ethics which we are
now considering. A calm regard to our general
interest is indeed a faint and infrequent motive
of action. Its chief advantage is, that it is re¬
gular, and that its movements may be calculat¬
ed. In deliberate conduct it may often be relied
on, though perhaps never safely without know¬
ledge of the whole temper and character. But
m moral reasoning at least, the coincidence is
of unspeakable advantage. If there be a miser¬
able man who has cold affections, a weak sense
of justice, dim perceptions of right and wrong,
and faint feelings of them;—-if, still more wretch¬
ed, his heart be constantly torn and devoured by
malevolent passions—the vultures of the soul;
—we have one resource still left, even in cases
so dreadful. Even he still retains a human
principle, to which we can speak. He must
own that he has some wish for his own lasting
welfare. We can prove to him that his state of
mind is inconsistent with it. It may be impos¬
sible indeed to show, that while his disposition
continues the same, he can derive any enjoy¬
ment from the practice of virtue. But it may
be most clearly shown, that every advance in the
amendment of that disposition is a step towards
even temporal happiness. If he do not amend
his character, we may compel him to own that
he is at variance with himself, and offends against
a principle of which even he must recognise the
reasonableness.
The formation of Conscience from so many
elements, and especially the combination of ele¬
ments so unlike as the private desires and the
social affections, early contributes to give it the
appearance of that simplicity and independence
which in its mature state really distinguish it.
It becomes, from these circumstances, more dif¬
ficult to distinguish its separate principles ; and
it is impossible to exhibit them in separate ac¬
tion. The affinity of these various passions to
each other, which consists in their having no ob¬
ject but states of the will, is the only common pro¬
perty which strikes the mind. Hence the faci¬
lity with which the general terms, first probably
limited to the relations between ourselves and
others, are gradually extended to all voluntary
acts and dispositions. Prudence and temper¬
ance become the objects of moral approbation.
When imprudence is immediately disapproved
by the by-stander, without deliberate considera¬
tion of its consequences, it is not only displeas¬
ing, as being pernicious, but it is blamed as
wrong, though with a censure so much inferior
to that bestowed on inhumanity and injustice, as
may justify those writers who use the milder
term improper. At length, when the general
words come to signify the objects of moral ap¬
probation, and the reverse, they denote merely
the power to excite feelings which are as inde¬
pendent as if they were underived, and which
coalesce the more perfectly, because they are de¬
tached from objects so various and unlike as to
render their return to their primitive state very
difficult.
The question,1 why we do not morally approve
the useful qualities of actions which are altogether
involuntary, may now be shortly and satisfacto-
3 F
DISS. II.
1 See supra, p. 347.
410
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
rily answered: because conscience is in perpe¬
tual contact, as it were, with all the dispositions
and actions of voluntary agents, and is hy that
means indissolubly associated with them exclu¬
sively. It has a direct action on the will, and a
constant mental contiguity to it. It has no such
mental contiguity to involuntary changes. It
has never perhaps been observed, that an opera¬
tion of the conscience precedes all acts deliber¬
ate enough to be in the highest sense voluntary,
and does so as much when it is defeated as when
it prevails. In either case the association is re¬
peated. It extends to the whole of the active
man. All passions have a definite outward ob¬
ject to which they tend, and a limited sphere
within which they act. But conscience has no
object but a state of will; and as an act of will
is the sole means of gratifying any passion,
conscience is co-exteusive with the whole man,
and without encroachment curbs or aids every
feeling, even within the peculiar province of that
feeling itself. As will is the universal means,
conscience, which regards will, must be a uni¬
versal principle. As nothing is interposed be¬
tween conscience and the will when the mind is
in its healthy state, the dictate of conscience is
followed by the determination of the will, with a
promptitude and exactness which very naturally
is likened to the obedience of an inferior to the
lawful commands of those whom he deems to be
rightfully placed over him. It therefore seems
clear, that on the theory which has been attempt¬
ed, moral approbation must be limited to volun¬
tary operations, and conscience must be universal,
independent, and commanding.
One remaining difficulty may perhaps be ob¬
jected to the general doctrines of this Disserta¬
tion, though it does not appear at any time to
have been urged against other modifications of
the same principle. “ If moral approbation,” it
may be said, “ invol v e no perception of beneficial
tendency, whence arises the coincidence between
that principle and the moral sentiments ?” It
may seem at first sight, that such a theory rests
the foundation of morals upon a coincidence al-
together mysterious, and apparently capricious
and fantastic. Waiving all other answers, let
us at once proceed to that which seems conclusive.
It is true that conscience rarely contemplates so
distant an object as the welfare of all sentient
beings. But to what point is every one of its
elements directed ? What, for instance, is the
aim of all the social affections? Nothing but the
production of larger or smaller masses of happi¬
ness among those of our fellow-creatures who
are the objects of these affections. In every case
these affections promote happiness, as far as their
foresight and their power extend. What can he
more conducive, or even necessary, to the being
smA wellbeing of society, than the rules of justice?
Are not the angry passions themselves, as far as
they are ministers of morality, employed in re¬
moving hinderances to the welfare of ourselves
and others, which is indirectly promoting it?
The private passions terminate indeed in the
happiness of the individual, which, however, is
a part of general happiness, and the part over
which we have most power. Every principle of
which conscience is composed has some portion
of happiness for its object. To that point they
all converge. General happiness is not indeed
one of the natural objects of conscience, because
our voluntary acts are not felt and perceived to
affect it. But how small a step is left for rea¬
son. It only casts up the items of the account.
It has only to discover that the acts of those who
labour to promote separate portions of happiness
must increase the amount of the whole. It may
be truly said, that if observation and experience
did not clearly ascertain that beneficial tendency
is the constant attendant and mark of all virtu¬
ous dispositions and actions, the same great
truth would be revealed to us by the voice of
conscience. The coincidence, instead of being
arbitrary, arises necessarily from the laws of
human nature, and the circumstances in which
mankind are placed. We perform and approve
virtuous actions, partly because conscience re¬
gards them as right, partly because we are
prompted to them by good affections. All these
affections contxibute towards general wellbeing,
though it were not necessary, nor would it be
fit, that the agent should be distracted by the
contemplation of that vast and remote object.
The various relations of conscience to religion
we have already been led to consider on the
principles of Butler, of Berkeley, of Paley, and
especially of Hartley, who was led by his own
DISSERTATION SECOND.
411
piety to contemplate as the last and highest
stage of virtue and happiness, a sort of self-
annihilation, which, however unsuitable to the
present condition of mankind, yet places in the
strongest light the disinterested character of the
system, of which it is a conceivable though
perhaps not attainable result. The complete¬
ness and rigour acquired by conscience, when all
its dictates are revered as the commands of a
perfectly wise and good Being, are so obvious,
that they cannot be questioned by any reason¬
able man, however extensive his incredulity may
be. It is thus that conscience can add the
warmth of an affection to the inflexibility of
principle and habit. It is true that, in exa¬
mining the evidence of the divine original of a
religious system, in estimating an imperfect re¬
ligion, or in comparing the demerits of religions
of human origin, conscience must be the stand¬
ard chiefly applied. But it follows with equal
clearness, that those who have the happiness to
find satisfaction and repose in divine revela¬
tion, are bound to consider all those precepts
for the government of the will, delivered by
it, which are manifestly universal, as the rules
to which all their feelings and actions should
conform. The true distinction between con¬
science and a taste for moral beauty has already
been pointed out;1 a distinction which, not¬
withstanding its simplicity, has been unobserved
by philosophers, perhaps on account of the fre¬
quent co-operation and intermixture of the two
feelings. Most speculators have either denied
the existence of the taste, or kept it out of view
in their theory, or exalted it to the place which
is rightfully filled only by conscience. Yet it
is perfectly obvious that, like all the other feel¬
ings called pleasures of imagination, it termi¬
nates in delightful contemplation, while the
moral faculty always aims exclusively at volun¬
tary action. Nothing can more clearly show
that this last quality is the characteristic of con¬
science, than its being thus found to distinguish
that faculty from the sentiments which most
nearly resemble it, most frequently attend it,
and are most easily blended with it.
Some attempt has now been made to develope
the fundamental principles of ethical theory, in
that historical order in which meditation and
discussion brought them successively into a
clearer light. That attempt, as far as it re¬
gards Great Britain, is at least chronologically
complete. The spirit of bold speculation, con¬
spicuous among the English of the seventeenth
century, languished after the earlier part of
the eighteenth, and seems, from the time of
Hutcheson, to have passed into Scotland, where
it produced Hume, the greatest of sceptics,
and Smith, the most eloquent of modern mo¬
ralists; besides giving rise to that sober, mo¬
dest, perhaps timid Philosophy, which is com¬
monly called Scotch,—which has the singular
merit of having first strongly and largely in¬
culcated the absolute necessity of admitting
certain principles as the foundation of all rea¬
soning, and as being the indispensable con¬
ditions of thought itself. In the eye of the
moralist, all the philosophers of Scotland, Hume
and Smith as much as Reid, Campbell, and
Stewart, have also the merit of having avoid¬
ed the selfish system; and of having, under
whatever variety of representation, alike main¬
tained the disinterested nature of the social af¬
fections and the supreme authority of the moral
sentiments. Brown reared the standard of re¬
volt against the masters of the Scottish School,
and in reality, still more than in words, adopt¬
ed those very doctrines against which his pre¬
decessors, after their war against scepticism,
uniformly combated. The law of association,
though expressed in other language, became
the nearly universal principle of his system;
and perhaps it would have been absolutely
universal if he had not been restrained rather
by respectful feelings than by cogent reasons.
With him the love of speculative philosophy,
as a pursuit, appears to have expired in Scot¬
land. There are some symptoms, yet how¬
ever very faint, of the revival of a taste for it
among the English youth. It was received with
approbation in France from 'M. Royer Collard,
the scholar of Stewart more than of Reid, and
1 See supra, p. 3G8, 30^.
412
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
with enthusiasm from his pupil and successor
M. Cousin, who has clothed the doctrines of the
Schools of Germany in an unwonted eloquence,
which always adorns, but sometimes disguises
them.
The history of Political Philosophy, even if
its extent and subdivisions were better defined,
would, it is manifest, have occupied another Dis¬
sertation, at least equal in length to the present.
The most valuable parts of it belong to Civil
History. It is too often tainted by a turbulent
and factious spirit to be easily combined with
the calmer history of the progress of science, or
even of the revolutions of speculation. In no
age of the world were its principles so inter¬
woven with political events, and so deeply im¬
bued with the passions and divisions excited by
them, as in the eighteenth century.
It was at one time the purpose, or rather per¬
haps hope, of the writer, to close this discourse
by an account of the ethical systems which have
prevailed in Germany during the last half cen¬
tury; which, maintaining the same spirit amidst
great changes of technical language, and even
of speculative principle, have now exclusive pos¬
session of Europe to the north of the Rhine,
have been welcomed by the French youth with
open arms, have roused in some measure the
languishing genius of Italy, but are still little
known and unjustly estimated by the mere
English reader. He found himself, however,
soon reduced to the necessity of either being su¬
perficial, and by consequence uninstructive ; or
of devoting to that subject a far longer time than
he can now spare, and a much larger space than
the limits of this work would probably allow.
The majority of readers will indeed be more
disposed to require an excuse for the extent of
what has been done, than for the relinquishment
of projected additions. All readers must agree
that this is peculiarly a subject on which it is
better to be silent than to say too little.
Avery few observations, however, on the Ger¬
man Philosophy, as far as relates to its ethical
bearings and influence, may perhaps be pardoned.
These remarks are not so much intended to be
applied to the moral doctrines of that school,
considered in themselves, as to those apparent de¬
fects in the prevailing systems of Ethics through¬
out Europe, which seem to have suggested the
necessity of their adoption. Kant has himself
acknowledged that his whole theory of the per¬
cipient and intellectual faculty was intended to
protect the first principles of human knowledge
against the assaults of Hume. In like manner,
his ethical system is evidently framed for the
purpose of guarding certain principles, either
directly governing, or powerfully affecting prac¬
tice, which seemed to him to have been placed
on unsafe foundations by their advocates, and
which were involved in perplexity and con¬
fusion, especially by those who adapted the re¬
sults of various and sometimes contradictory
systems to the taste of multitudes, more eager
to know than prepared to be taught. To the
theoretical reason he superadded the practical
reason, which had peculiar laws and prin¬
ciples of its own, from which all the rules of
morals may be deduced. The practical reason
cannot be conceived without these laws; there¬
fore they are inherent. It perceives them to be
necessary and universal. Hence, by a process
not altogether dissimilar, at least in its gross re¬
sults, to that which was employed for the like
purpose by Cudworth and Clarke, by Price, and
in some degree by Stewart, he raises the social
affections, and still more the moral sentiments,
above the sphere of enjoyment, and beyond that
series of enjoyments which is called happiness.
The performance of duty, not the pursuit of
happiness, is in this system the chief end of man.
By the same intuition we discover that virtue
deserves happiness; and as this desert is not
uniformly so requited in the present state oi
existence, it compels us to believe a moral go¬
vernment of the world, and a future state of ex¬
istence, in which all the conditions of the prac¬
tical reason will be realized;—truths, of which,
in the opinion of Kant, the argumentative proofs
were at least very defective, but of which the
revelations of the practical reason afforded a
more conclusive demonstration than any process
of reasoning could supply. The understanding,
he owned, saw nothing in the connection of mo¬
tive with volition different from what it discover¬
ed in every other uniform sequence of a cause
and an effect. But as the moral law delivered
by the practical reason issues peremptory and
DISSERTATION SECOND.
413
inflexible commands, the power of always obey¬
ing them is implied in their very nature. All in¬
dividual objects, all outward things, must indeed
be viewed in the relation of cause and effect.
They are necessary conditions of all reasoning.
But the acts of the faculty which wills, of which
we are immediately conscious, belong to another
province of mind, and are not subject to these
Jaws of the theoretical reason. The mere intellect
must still regard them as necessarily connected;
but the practical reason distinguishes its own
liberty from the necessity of nature, conceives
volition without at the same time conceiving
an antecedent to it, and regards all moral beings
as the original authors of their own actions.
Even those who are unacquainted with this
complicated and comprehensive system, will at
once see the slightness of the above sketch.
Those who understand it, will own that so brief
an outline could not be otherwise than slight.
It will, however, be sufficient for the present
purpose, if it render what follows intelligible.
With respect to what is called the practical
reason, the Kantian system varies from ours, in
treating it as having more resemblance to the
intellectual powers than to sentiment and emo¬
tion. Enough has already been said on that
question. At the next step, however, the dif¬
ference seems to resolve itself into a misunder¬
standing. The chai'acter and dignity of the
human race surely depend, not on the state in
which they are born, but on that which they are
all destined to attain or to approach. No man
would hesitate in assenting to this observation,
when applied to the intellectual faculties. Thus,
the human infant comes into the world imbecile
and:ignorant; but a vast majority acquire some
vigour of reason and extent of knowledge.
Strictly, the human infant is born neither self¬
ish nor social; but the far greater part acquire
some provident regard to their own welfare, and
a number, probably not much smaller, feel some
sparks of affection towards others. On our
principles, therefore, as much as on those of
Kant, human nature is capable of disinterested
sentiments. For we too allow and contend that
our moral faculty is a necessary part of human
nature^—that it universally exists in human
beings,—that we cannot conceive any moral
agents without qualities which are either like,
or produce the like effects. It is necessarily re¬
garded by us as co-extensive with human, and
even with moral nature. In what other sense
can universality be predicated of any proposition
not identical ? Why should it be tacitly assumed
that all these great characteristics of conscience
should necessarilypresuppose its being unformed
and underived ? What contradiction is there
between them and the theory of regular and
uniform formation ?
In this instance it should seem that a general
assent to truth is chiefly if not solely obstructed
by an inveterate prejudice, arising from the
mode in which the questions relating to the af¬
fections and the moral faculty have been dis¬
cussed among ethical philosophers. Generally
speaking, those who contend that these parts of
the mind are acquired, have also held that they
are, in their perfect state, no more than modi¬
fications of self-love. On the other hand, philo¬
sophers “ of purer fire,” who felt that conscience
is sovereign, and that affection is disinterested,
have too hastily fancied that their ground was
untenable, without contending that these quali¬
ties were inherent or innate, and absolutely un¬
derived from any other properties of mind. If a
choice were necessary between these two systems
as masses of opinion, without any freedom of dis¬
crimination and selection, I should unquestion¬
ably embrace that doctrine which places in the
clearest light the reality of benevolence and the
authority of the moral faculty. But it is surely
easy to apply a test which may be applied to our
conceptions as effectually as a decisive experiment
is applied to material substances. Does not he
who, whatever he may think of the origin of
these parts of human nature, believes that actually
conscience is supreme, and affection terminates
in its direct object, retain all that for which the
partisans of the underived principles value and
cling to their system ? “ But they are made,”
these philosophers may say, “ by this class of
our antagonists, to rest on insecure foundations.
Unless they are underived, we can see no reason
for regarding them as independent.” In answer,
it may be asked, how is the connection between
these two qualities established ? It is really as¬
sumed. It finds its way easily into the mind
414
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
under the protection of another coincidence,
which is of a totally different nature. The great
majority of those speculators who have repre¬
sented the moral and social feelings as acquired,
have also considered them as being mere modi¬
fications of self-love, and sometimes as being
casually formed and easily eradicated, like local
and temporary prejudices. But when the na¬
ture of our feelings is thoroughly explored, is it
not evident that this coincidence is the result of
superficial confusion ? The better moralists ob¬
served accurately, and reasoned justly, on the
province of the moral sense and the feelings in
the formed and mature man. They reasoned
mistakenly on the origin of these principles.
But the Epicureans were by no means right,
even on the latter question; and they were total¬
ly wrong on the other and far more momentous
part of the subject. Their error is more exten¬
sive, and infinitely more injurious. But what
should now hinder an inquirer after truth from
embracing but amending their doctrine where it
is partially true, and adopting without any change
the just description of the most important prin¬
ciples of human nature which we owe to their
more enlightened as well as more generous an¬
tagonists ?
Though unwilling to abandon the arguments
by which, from the earliest times, the existence
of the supreme and eternal mind has been esta¬
blished, we, as well as the German philosophers,
are entitled to call in the help of our moral na¬
ture to lighten the burden of those tremendous
difficulties which cloud his moral government.
The moral nature is an actual part of man, as
much on our scheme as on theirs.
Even the celebrated question of Liberty and
Necessity may perhaps be rendered somewhat
less perplexing, if we firmly bear in mind that
peculiar relation of conscience to will which we
have attempted to illustrate. It is impossible
for reason to consider occurrences otherwise
than as bound together by the connection of
cause and effect; and in this circumstance con¬
sists the strength of the necessitarian system.
But conscience, which is equally a constituent
part of the mind, has other laws. It is composed
of emotions and desires, which contemplate only
those dispositions which depend on the will. Now,
it is the nature of an emotion to withdraw tlie
mind from the contemplation of every idea but
that of the object which excites it. Every desire
exclusively looks at the object which it seeks.
Every attempt to enlarge the mental vision al¬
ters the state of mind, weakens the emotion or
dissipates the desire, and tends to extinguish
both. If a man, while he was pleased with the
smell of a rose, were to reflect on the chemical
combinations from which it arose, the condition
of his mind would be changed from an enjoy¬
ment of the senses to an exertion of the under¬
standing. If, in the view of a beautiful scene,
a man were suddenly to turn his thoughts to
the disposition of water, vegetables, and earths,
on which its appearance depended, he might en¬
large his knowledge of geology, but he must
lose the pleasure of the prospect. The anatomy
and analysis of the flesh and blood of a beauti¬
ful woman necessarily suspend admiration and
affection. Many analogies here present them¬
selves. When life is in danger either in a storm
or a battle, it is certain that less fear is felt by
the commander or the pilot, and even by the
private soldier actively engaged, or the common
seaman laboriously occupied, than by those who
are exposed to the peril, but not employed in
the means of guarding against it. The reason is
not that the one class believe the danger to be
less. They are likely in many instances to per¬
ceive it more clearly. But having acquired a
habit of instantly turning their thoughts to the
means of counteracting the danger, their minds
are thrown into a state which excludes the as¬
cendency of fear. Mental fortitude entirely
depends on this habit. The timid horseman is
haunted by the horrors of a fall. The bold and
skilful thinks only about the best way of curb¬
ing or supporting his horse. Even when all
means are equally unavailable, and his condition
appears desperate to the by-stander, he still owes
to his fortunate habit that he does not suffer
the agony of the coward. Many cases have
been known where fortitude has reached such
strength that the faculties, instead of being con¬
founded by danger, are never raised to their
highest activity by a less violent stimulant. The
distinction between such men and the coward
does not depend on difference of opinion about
DISSERTATION SECOND.
415
the reality or extent of the danger, but on a
state of mind which renders it more or less ac¬
cessible to fear. Though it must be owned that
the moral sentiments are very different from any
other human faculty, yet the above observations
seem to be in a great measure applicable to every
state of mind. The emotions and desires which
compose conscience, while they occupy the mind,
must exclude all contemplation of the cause in
which the object of these feelings may have ori¬
ginated. To their eye the voluntary dispositions
and actions, their sole object, must appear to he
the first link of a chain. In the view of con¬
science they have no foreign original. The con¬
science being so constantly associated with all
volitions, its view becomes habitual:—being al¬
ways possessed of some, and capable of intense
warmth, it predominates over the habits of
thinking of those few who are employed in the
analyses of mental occupations. The reader
who has in any degree been inclined to adopt
the explanations attempted above, of the im¬
perative character of conscience, may be dis¬
posed also to believe that they afford some foun¬
dation for that conviction of the existence of
a power to obey its commands, which (it ought
to be granted to the German philosophers) is
irresistibly suggested by the commanding tone
of all its dictates. If such an explanation should
be thought worthy of consideration, it must be
very carefully distinguished from that illusive
sense by which some writers have laboured to .
reconcile the feeling of liberty with the reality
of necessity.1 In this case there is no illusion;
—nothing is required but the admission, that
every faculty observes its own laws, and that
when the action of the one fills the mind, that
of every other is suspended. The ear cannot
see, nor can the eye hear. Why then should
not the greater powers of reason and conscienice
have different habitual modes of contemplating
voluntary actions ? How strongly do experience
and analogy seem to require the arrangement of
motive and volition under the class of causes
and effects ! With what irresistible power, on
the other hand, do all our moral sentiments re¬
move extrinsic agency from view, and concen¬
trate all feeling in the agent himself! The
one manner of thinking may predominate among
the speculative few in their short moments of
abstraction; the other will be that of all other
men, and of the speculator himself when he is
called upon to act, or when his feelings are
powerfully excited by the amiable or odious
dispositions of his fellow-men. In these work¬
ings of various faculties there is nothing that
can he accui*ately described as contrariety of
opinion. An intellectual state, and a feeling,
never can be contrary to each other. They
are too utterly incapable of comparison to be
the subject of contrast. They are agents of a
perfectly different nature, acting in different
spheres. A feeling can no more be called
true or false, than a demonstration, considered
simply in itself, can be said to be agreeable or
disagreeable. It is true, indeed, that in conse¬
quence of the association of all mental acts with
each other, emotions and desires may occasion
habitual errors of judgment;—but liability to
error belongs to every exercise of human reason;
it arises from a multitude of causes; it con¬
stitutes, therefore, no difficulty peculiar to the
case before us. Neither truth nor falsehood can
be predicated of the perceptions of the senses,
but they lead to false opinions. An object seen
through different mediums may by the inex¬
perienced be thought to be no longer the same.
All men long concluded falsely, from what they
saw, that the earth was stationary, and the sun
in perpetual motion around it. The greater part
of mankind still adopt the same error. Newton
and Laplace used the same language with the
ignorant, and conformed (if we may not say to
their opinion) at least to their habits of thinking
on all ordinary occasions, and during the far
greater part of their lives. Nor is this all:
The language which represents various states of
mind is very vague. The word which denotes
a compound state is often taken from its princi¬
pal fact, from that which is most conspicuous,
most easily called to mind, most warmly felt, or
most frequently recurring. It is sometimes bor-
Lohd Kames, in his Essays on Morality and Natural Religion, and in his Sketches of the History of Man.
416
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
rowed from a separate, but, as it were, neigh¬
bouring condition of mind. The grand distinc¬
tion between thought and feeling is so little ob¬
served, that we are peculiarly liable to confusion
on this subject. Perhaps when we use language
which indicates an opinion concerning the acts
of the will, we may mean little more than to ex¬
press strongly and warmly tbe moral sentiments
which voluntary acts alone call up. It would
argue disrespect for the human understanding,
vainly employed for so many centuries in recon¬
ciling contradictory opinions, to propose such
suggestions without peculiar diffidence ; but be¬
fore they are altogether rejected, it may be well
to consider, whether the constant success of the
advocates of necessity on one ground, and of the
partisans of free-will on another, does not seem
to indicate that the two parties contemplate the
subject from different points of view, that nei¬
ther habitually sees more than one side of it, and
that they look at it through the medium of dif¬
ferent states of mind.
It should be remembered that these hints of a
possible reconciliation between seemingly re¬
pugnant opinions are proposed, not as perfect
analogies, but to lead men’s minds into the in¬
quiry, whether that which certainly befalls the
mind, in many cases on a small scale, may not,
under circumstances favourable to its develop¬
ment, occur with greater magnitude, and more
important consequences. The coward and brave,
as has been stated, act differently at the approach
of danger, because it produces exertion in the
one and fear in the other. But very brave men
must, by the terms, be few. They have little
aid in their highest acts, therefore, from fellow-
feeling. They are often too obscure for the
hope of praise, and they have seldom been train¬
ed to cultivate courage as a virtue. The very
reverse occurs in the different view taken by under¬
standing and by conscience, of the nature of volun¬
tary actions. The conscientious view must, in
some degree, present itself to all mankind. It
is therefore unspeakably strengthened by gene¬
ral sympathy. All men respect themselves for
being habitually guided by it. It is the object of
general commendation: and moral discipline has
no other aim but its cultivation. Whoever does
not feel more pain from his crimes than from his
misfortunes, is looked on with general aversion.
And when it is considered that a Being of per¬
fect wisdom and goodness estimates us accord¬
ing to the degree in which conscience governs
our voluntary acts, it is surely no wonder that,
in this most important discrepancy between the
great faculties of our nature, we should con¬
sider the best habitual disposition to be that
which the coldest reason shows us to be most
conducive to welldoing and wellbeing.
On every other point, at least, it should seem
that, without the multiplied suppositions and
immense apparatus of the German School, the
authority of morality may be vindicated, the
disinterestedness of human nature asserted, the
first principles of knowledge secured, and the
hopes and consolations of mankind preserved.
Ages may yet be necessary to give to ethical
theory all the forms and language of science, and
to apply it to the multiplied and complicated facts
and rules which are within its province. In the
mean time, if any statement of the opinions here
unfolded or intimated shall be proved to be at
variance with the reality of social affections, and
with the feeling of moral distinction, the author
of this Dissertation will be the first to relinquish
a theory which will then show itself inadequate
to explain the most indisputable, as well as by
far the most important, parts of human nature.
If it shall be shown to lower the character of
man, to cloud his hopes, or to impair the sense
of duty, he will be grateful to those who may
point out his error, and deliver him from the
poignant regret of adopting opinions which lead
to consequences so pernicious.
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
Notes Note A, p. 305.
and ^
istrations.
The remarks of Cicero on the Stoicism of Cato
are perhaps the most perfect specimen of that
refined raillery which attains the object of the
orator without general injustice to the person
whose authority is for the moment to be abated.
“ Accessit his doctrina non moderata, nec
mitis, sed, ut mihi videtur, paulo asperior et
durior quam aut veritas aut natura patiatur.”
After an enumeration of the Stoical paradoxes,
he adds: “ Haec homo ingeniosissimus M. Cato
arripuit, neque disputandi causa, ut magna pars,
sed ita vivendi. Nostri autem illi (fatebor enim
me quoque in adolescentia diflfisum ingenio meo
quaesisse adjumenta doctrinae) nostri, inquam, illi
a Platone atque Aristotele moderati homines et
temperati aiunt apud sapientem valere aliquando
gratiam; viri boni esse misereri; omnes
virtutes mediocritate quadam moderatas. Hos
admagistros si qua te fortuna, Cato, cum ista na¬
tura detulisset, non tu quidem vir melior esses,
nec fortior, nec temperantior, nec justior (neque
enim esse posses), sed paulo ad lenitatem pro-
pensior.” (Cicero joro Murena.)
Note B, p. 309.
The greater part of the following extract from
Grotius’s History of the Netherlands is inserted
as the best abridgement of the ancient history, of
these still subsisting controversies known in our
time. I extract also the introduction as a mo¬
del of the manner in which an historian may
state a religious dispute which has influenced
political affairs; but far more because it is an
unparalleled example of equity and forbearance
m the narrative of a contest of which the histo¬
rian was himself a victim.
“ Habuit hie annus (1G08) haud spernendi
HISS. II.
quoque mali semina, vix ut arma desierant, ex- Notes
orto publicae religionis dissidio, latentibus initiis, ^ ^
sed ut paulatim in majus erumperet. Lugduni
sacras literas docebant viri eruditione preestan-
tes Gomarus et Arminius, quorum ille aeterna
Dei lege fixum memorabat, cui hominum salus
destinaretur, quis in exitium tenderet; inde
alios ad pietatem trahi, et tractos custodiri ne
elabantur; relinqui alios communi humanitatis
vitio et suis criminibus involutes: hie vero
contra integrum judicem, sed eundem optimum
patrem, id reorum fecisse discrimen, ut peccandi
pertsesis fiduciamque in Christum reponentibus
veniam ac vitam daret, contumacibus pcenam;
Deoque gratum, ut omnes resipiscant, ac meliora
edocti retineant; sed cogi neminem. Accusa-
bantque invicem; Arminius Gomarum, quod
peccandi causas Deo ascriberet, ac fati persua-
sione teneret immobiles animos; Gomarus Ar-
minium, quod longius ipsis Romanensium scitis
hominem arrogantia impleret, nec pateretur soli
L)eo acceptam ferri, rent maximum^ bonam men-
tem. Constat his queis cura legere veterum
libros, antiques Christianorum tribuisse homi¬
num voluntati vim liberam, tarn in acceptanda,
quam in retinenda disciplina ; unde sua praemiis
ac suppliciis sequitas. Neque iidem tamen
omisere cuncta divinam ad bonitatem referre,
cujus munere salutare semen ad nos pervenisset,
ac cujus singular! auxilio pericula nostra indi-
gerent. Primus omnium Augustinus, ex quo
ipsi cum Pelagio et eum secutis certamen (nam
ante aliter et ipse sensor at), acer disputandi, ita
libertatis vocem relinquere, ut ei decreta qusedam
Dei prseponeret, quse vim ipsam destruere vide-
rentur. At per Greeciam quidem Asiamque re-
tenta vetus ilia ac simplicior sententia. Per oc-
cidentem magnum Augustini nomen multos
traxit in consensum, repertis tamen per Galliam
et alibi qui se opponerent. Posterioribus saicu-
3 G
418
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes lis, cum scliola non alio magis quam Augustino
st rat ions ^octore uteretur, quis ipsi sensus, quis dexter
pugnare visa conciliandi modus, din inter Fran-
cisci et Dominici familiam disputato, doctissimi
Jesuitarum, cum exactiori subtilitate nodum sol¬
vere laborassent, Rompe accusati asgre damna-
tionem effugere. At Protestantium princeps,
Lutherus, egressus monasterio quod Augustini
ut nomen, ita sensus sequebatur, parte Augustini
arrepta, id quod is reliquerat, libertatis nomen,
coepit exscindere; quod tarn grave Erasmo vi¬
sum, ut cum csetera ipsius aut probaret aut si-
. lentio transmitteret, bic objiciat sese : cujus ar-
gumentis motus Philippus Melanehthon, Lutheri
adj utor, quae prius scripserat immutavit, auctor-
qtie fuit Luthero, quod multi volunt, certe quod
constat Lutheranis, deserendi decreta rigida et
conditionem respuentia; sic tamen ut libertatis
vocabulum quam rem magis perhorrescerent. At
in altera Protestantium parte dux Calvinus,
primis Lutberi dictis in hac controversia inhae-
rescens, novis ea fulsit praesidiis, addiditque in-
tactum Auguslino, veram ac salutarem fidem rem
esse perpetuam et amitti nesciam: cujus proinde
qui sibi essent conscii, eos aeternae felicitatis jam
nunc certos esse, quos interim in crimina, quan-
tumvis gravia, prolabi posse non diffitebatur.
Auxit sententiae rigorem Genevae Beza, per Ger-
maniam Zancbius, Ursinus, Piscator, saepe eo
usque provecti, ut, quod alii anxie vitaverant,
apertius nonnunquam traderent, etiam peccandi
necessitatem a prima causa pendere: quae ampla
Lutheranis criminandi materia.” (H. Grotii
Hist. lib. xvii. p. 552.)
Note C, p. 309.
The Calvinism, or rather Augustinianism, of
Aquinas, is placed beyond all doubt by the fol¬
lowing passages :—“ Praedestinatio est causa
gratiae et gloriae.” [Opera, VII. 356, edit. Paris.
1664.)
“ Numerus praedestinatorum certus est.” (Ibid.
363.)
“ Praescientia meritorum nullo modo est
causa praedestinationis divinae.” (Ibid. 370.)
c‘ Liberum arbitrium est facultas qua bonum
eligitur, gratia assistente, vel malum, eadem de-
sistente.” (Ibid. VIII. 222.)
“ Deus inclinat ad bonum administrando vir- Ni,
tutem affendi et monendo ad bonum. Sed ad i„ ai
. . nlusti pnt,
malum dicitur mclmare in quantum gratiam
non praebet, per quam aliquis a malo retrahere-
tur.” (Ibid. 364.)
On the other side :
“ Accipitur fides pro eo quo creditor, et est
virtus, et pro eo quod creditor, et non est virtus.
Fides qua creditor, si cum caritate sit, virtus est.”
(Ibid. IX. 236.)
“ Divina bonitas est primum principium com-
municationis totius quam Deus creaturis largi-
tur.”
cs Quamvis omne quod Deus vult justum sit,
non tamen ex hoc justum dicitur quod Deus illud
vult.” (Ibid. 697.)
Note D, p. 309.
The Augustinian doctrine is, with some hesi¬
tation and reluctance, acquiesced in by Scotus,
in that milder form which ascribes election to an
express decree, and considers the rest of mankind
as only left to the deserved penalties of their
transgressions. <c In hujus qusestionis solutione
mallemalios audire quamdocere.” (Scoti Opera,
V. 1329. Lugd. 1639.) This modesty and pru¬
dence is foreign from the dogmatical genius of a
Schoolman ; and these qualities are still more ap¬
parent in the very remarkable language which
he applies to the tremendous doctrine of repro¬
bation. “ Eorum autem non miseretur (soil.
Deus) quibus gratiam non prcebendam esse cequitate
occultissima et ab humanis sensibus remotissima ju-
dicat.” (Ibid. 1329.) In the commentary on
Scotus which follows, it appears that his acute
disciple Ockham disputed very freely against the
opinions of his master. ii Mala fieri bonum est”
is a startling paradox, quoted by Scotus from
Augustin. (Ibid. 1381.) It appears that Ock¬
ham saw no difference between election and re¬
probation, and considered those who embraced
only the former as at variance with themselves.
(Ibid. 1313.)
Scotus, at great length, contends that our
thoughts (consequently our opinions) are not
subject to the will. (VI. 1054—1056.) One step
more would have led him to acknowledge that
all erroneous j udgment is involuntary, and there-
DISSERTATION SECOND.
fore inculpable and unpunishable, however per¬
nicious.
i His attempt to reconcile foreknowledge with
contingency (V. 1309—1327), is a remarkable
example of the power of human subtlety to keep
up the appearance of a struggle where it is im¬
possible to make one real effort.
But the most dangerous of all the deviations
of Scotus from the system of Aquinas is, that he
opened the way to the opinion that the dis¬
tinction of right and wrong depends on the mere
will of the Eternal Mind. The absolute power
of the Deity, according to him, extends to all
but contradictions. His regular power (ordi-
nata) is exercised conformably to an order es¬
tablished by himself; “ si placet voluntati,
sub qua libera est, recta est lex.” (Scot. V.
1368, et seq.)
Note E, p. 309.
AXka (LYp ys axoutfav rfadav ffav ayvoovdav.
(Plat. Soj>h. edit. Bip. II. 224.)
Tlaffav axouffiov a^aQiav uveu. (Ibid. 227.)
Plato is quoted on this subject by Marcus
Aurelius, in a manner which shows, if there
had been any doubt, the meaning to be, that all
error is involuntary.
Uatfu axo'jda, (pridiv (nAarwv), dTSPSTai a\/iOsiug.
Every mind is unwillingly led from truth.
(Epict. lib. i. cap. xxviii.)
Augustin closes the long line of ancient tes¬
timony to the involuntary character of error :
“ Quis est qui velit decipi? Fallere nolunt bo-
ni; falli autem nec boni volunt nec mali.”
(Aug. Serm. de Verbo.)
Note F, p. 310.
From a long, able, and instructive disserta¬
tion by the commentator on Scotus, it appears
that this immoral dogma was propounded in
terms more bold and startling by Ockham,
who openly affirmed, that “ moral evil was
only evil because it was prohibited.” <{ Oc~
hamus, qui putat quod nihil posset esse malum
sine voluntate prohibitiva Dei, haneque volun-
tatem esse liberam; sic ut posset earn non
habere, et consequenter ut posset fieri quod nul¬
la prorsus essent mala.” (Scot. VII. p. 859.)
But, says the commentator, “ Dico primo legem
naturalem non consistere in jussione ulla quae
sit actus voluntatis Dei. Haec est communissima
theologorum sententia.” (Scot. VII. p. 858.)
And indeed the reason urged against Ockham
completely justifies this approach to unanimity.
“ For,” he asks, “ why is it right to obey the
will of God ? Is it because our moral faculties
perceive it to be right ? But they equally per¬
ceive and feel the authority of all the primary
principles of morality; and if this answer be
made, it is obvious that those who make it do in
effect admit the independence of moral distinc¬
tions on the will of God.”
“ If God,” said Ockham, “ had commanded
his creatures to hate himself, hatred of God
would have been praiseworthy.” (Domin. Soto
de Justitia et Jure, lib. ii. quaest. 3, 44 Utrum pree-
cepta Decalogi sint dispensabilia a book dedi¬
cated to Don Carlos, the son of Philip II.) Suarez,
the last scholastic philosopher, rejected the Ock-
hamical doctrine, but allowed will to be a, part
of the foundation of morality. 44 Voluntas Dei non
est tota ratio bonitatis aut malitise.” (Suarez
de Legibus, lib. ii. 66, p. 71. edit. Fond. 1679.)
As the great majority of the Schoolmen sup¬
ported their opinion of this subject by the con¬
sideration of eternal and immutable ideas of
right and wrong in the divine intellect, it was
natural that the Nominalists, of whom Ockham
was the founder, who rejected all general ideas,
should also have rejected those moral distinc¬
tions which were then supposed to originate in
such ideas. Gerson was a celebrated Nominal¬
ist ; and he was the more disposed to follow the
opinions of his master, because they agreed in
maintaining the independence of the State on
the Church, and the superiority of the Church
over the Pope.
Note G, p. 310.
It must be premised that Charitas among the
ancient divines corresponded with E^ws of the
Platonists, and with the <I>/Xya of later philoso¬
phers, as comprehending the love of all that is
loveworthy in the Creator or his creatures. It
is the theological virtue of charity, and corre-
420
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes spends with no term in use among modern mo-
lllustrations ralists* “Cum ohjectumamoris sit bonum, dupli-
citer ]iotest aliquis tendere in bonum alicujus rei;
uno modo, quod bonum illiusTei ad alteTW/nrefevat)
sicut amat quis vinum in quantum dulcedinem
vini peroptat; et bic amor vocatur a quibusdam
amor eoncupiscentue. Amor autem iste non ter-
minatur ad rem quee dicitur amari, sed rejlectitur
ad rem Mam cui optatur bonum Mius rei. Alio
modo amor fortior in bonum alicujus rei, ita quod
ad rem ipsam terminatur ; et hie est amor
benevolentise. Qua bonum nostrum in Deo per-
fectum est, sicut in causa universali bonorum;
ideo bonum in ipso esse magis naturaliter complacet
quam in nobis ipsis : et ideo etiam amore ami-
citise naturaliter Deus ab homine plus seipso dili-
gitur.”
The above quotations from Aquinas will pro¬
bably be sufficient for those who are acquainted
with these questions, and they will certainly be
thought too large by those Avho are not. In the
next question he inquires, whether in the love of
God there can be any view to reward. He ap¬
pears to consider himself as bound by authority
to answer in the affirmative; and he employs
much ingenuity in reconciling a certain expecta¬
tion of reward with the disinterested character
ascribed by him to piety in common with all
the affections which terminate in other beings.
“ Nihil aliud est merces nostra quam perfrui Deo.
Ergo charitas non solum non excludit, sed etiam
facit habere oculum ad mercedem.” In this
answer he seems to have anticipated the re¬
presentations of Jeremy Taylor {Sermon on
Growth in Grace); of Lord Shaftesbury {Inquiry
concerning Virtue, book i. part iii. sect. 3); of
Mr T. Erskine {Freeness of the Gospel, Edinb.
1828); and more especially of Mr John Smith
{Discourses, Lond. 1660). No extracts could
convey a just conception of the observations
which follow, unless they were accompanied
by a longer examination of the technical lan¬
guage of the Schoolmen than would be war¬
ranted on this occasion. It is clear that he
distinguishes well the affection of piety from the
happy fruits, which, as he cautiously expresses
it, “ are in the nature of a reward,” just as the
consideration of the pleasures and advantages
of friendship may enter into the affection and
strengthen it, though they are not its objects, Not
and never could inspire such a feeling. It seems iuus^
to me also that he had a dimmer view of another j
doctrine, by which we are taught, that though
our own happiness be not the end which we
pursue in loving others, yet it may be the final
cause of the insertion of disinterested affections
into the nature of man. “ Ponere mercedem
aliquam finem amoris ex parte amati, est contra
rationem amicitiae. Sed ponere mercedem esse
finem amoris ex parte amantis, non tamen ulti-
mum, prout scilicet ipse amor est qusedam ope¬
ratic amantis, non est contra rationem amicitise.
Possum operationem amoris amare propter ali-
quid aliud, salva amicitia. Potest habeas chari-
tatem habere oculum ad mercedem, uti ponat beati-
tudinem creatam finem amoris, non autem finem
amati.” Upon the last words my interpretation
chiefly depends. The immediately preceding
sentence must be owned to have been founded
on a distinction between viewing the good fruits
of our own affections as enhancing their intrin¬
sic pleasures, and feeling love for another on
account of the advantage to be derived from
him; which last is inconceivable.
Note H, p. 310.
“ Potestas spiritualis et secularis utraque
deducitur a potestate divina; ideo in tantum
secularis est sub spirituali, in quantum est a
Deo supposita; scilicet, in his quse ad salutem
animse pertinent. In his autem quse ad bonum
civile spectant, est magis obediendum potestati
seculari; sicut illud Matthsei, ‘ Reddite quse
sunt Caesaris Csesari.’ ” What follows is more
doubtful. “ Nisi forte potestati spirituali ctiam
potestas secularis conjungatur, ut in Papa, qui
utriusque potestatis apicem tenet.” (VIII. 435.)
Here, says tbe French editor, it may be doubt¬
ed whether Aquinas means the Pope’s temporal
power in his own dominions, or a secular autho¬
rity indirectly extending over all for the sake of
religion. My reasons for adopting the more ra¬
tional construction are shortly these:—1. The
text of Matthew is so plain an assertion of the
independence of both powers, that it would be
the height of extravagance to quote it as an au¬
thority for the dependence of the state. At
DISSERTATION SECOND.
421
,v.Cs most it could only be represented as recon-
and cilable with such a dependence in one case.
itrations. 1
2. The word forte seems manifestly to refer
to the territorial sovereignty acquired by the
Popes. If they have a general power in secu¬
lar affairs, it must be because it is necessary to
their spiritual authority; and in that case to
call it fortuitous would be to ascribe to it an ad¬
junct destructive of its nature. 3. His former
reasoning on the same question seems to be de¬
cisive. The power of the Pope over bishops,
he says, is not founded merely in his supe¬
rior nature, but in their authority being alto¬
gether derived from his, as the proconsular
power from the imperial. Therefore he infers
that this case is not analogous to the relation
between the civil and spiritual power, which are
alike derived from God. 4. Had an Italian
monk of the twelfth century really intended to
affirm the Pope’s temporal authority, he proba¬
bly would have laid it down in terms more ex¬
plicit and more acceptable at Rome. Hesitation
and ambiguity are here indications of unbelief.
Mere veneration for the apostolical see might
present a more precise determination against it,
as it caused the quotation which follows, respect¬
ing the primacy of Peter. ( Aouin. Opera, VIII.
434, 435.)
A mere abridgement of these very curious pas¬
sages might excite a suspicion that I had tinc¬
tured Aquinas unconsciously with a colour of
my own opinions. Extracts are very difficult,
from the scholastic method of stating objectioijs
and answers, as well as from the mixture of
theological authorities with philosophical rea¬
sons.
Note I, p. 312.
The debates in the first assembly of the Council
of Trent (1546), between the Dominicans who
adhered to Aquinas, and the Franciscans who
followed Scotus on original sin, justification, and
grace, are to be found in Fra Paolo, Istoria del
Concilia Tridentino, lib. ii. They show how much
metaphysical controversy is hid in a theological
form, how many disputes of our times are of no
very ancient origin, and how strongly the whole
western church, through all the divisions into
which it has been separated, has manifested the Notes
same unwillingness to avow the Augustinian T11 and.
° # Illustrations.
system, and the same fear of contradicting it. To
his admirably clear and short statement of these
abstruse controversies, must be added that of
his accomplished opponent Cardinal Pallavicino
(lib. vii. and viii.), who shows still more evidently
the strength of the Augustinian party, and the
disposition of the Council to tolerate opinions
almost Lutheran, if not accompanied by revolt
from the Church. A little more compromising
disposition in the Reformers might have be¬
trayed reason to a prolonged thraldom. We
must esteem Erasmus and Melanchthon, but we
should reserve our gratitude for Luther and
Calvin. The Scotists maintained their doctrine
of merit of congruity, waived by the Council,
and soon after condemned by the Church of
England; by which they meant that they who
had good dispositions always received the divine
grace, not indeed as a reward of which they
were worthy, but as aid which they wrere fit and
willing to receive. The Franciscans denied
that belief was in the power of man. e£ I Fran-
cescani lo negavano seguendo Scoto, qual vuole
die siccome dalle dimostrazioni per necessita
nasce la scienza, cosi dalle persuasion! nasca la
fede; e ch’essa e nell’ intelletto, il quale e agente
naturale, e mosso naturalmente dall’oggetto. Al-
legavano 1’esperienza, che nessuno pub credere
che vuole, ma quello che gli par vero.’* (Fra
Paolo, Istoria del Concilia Tridentino, I. 193.
edit. Helmstadt, 1763, 4to.)
Cardinal Sforza Pallavicino, a learned and
very able Jesuit, was appointed, according to
his own account, in 1651, many years after the
death of Fra Paolo, to write a true history of
the Council of Trent, as a corrective of the
misrepresentations of the celebrated Venetian.
Algernon Sidney, wbo knew this court historian
at Rome, and who may be believed when he
speaks well of a Jesuit and a Cardinal, com¬
mends the work in a letter to his father, Lord
Leicester. At the end of Pallavieino’s work is
a list of three hundred and sixty errors in mat¬
ters of fact, which the Papal party pretend to
have detected in the independent historian, whom
they charge with heresy or infidelity, and, in
either case, with hypocrisy.
422
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes Note K, p. 314.
and
Illustrations.
“ Hoc tempore, Ferdinando et Isabella regnan-
tibus, in academia Salmantina jacta sunt ro-
bustioris tbeologim semina; ingentis enim famae
vir Franciscus de Victoria, non tam lucubrati-
onibus editis, quamvis hsec non magnae molis at
magni pretii sint, sed doctissimorum theologo-
rum educatione, quamdiu fuerit sacrae scientiae
honos inter mortales, vehementer laudabitur.”
(Antonii Bibl. Hisp. Nova, Praef. iv. Madrid,
ITSS.) “ Si ad morum instructores respicias,
Sotus iterum nominabitur.” {Ibid.)
Note L, p. 814.
The title of the published account of the con¬
ference at Valladolid is, “ The controversy be¬
tween the Bishop of Chiapa and Dr Sepulveda;
in which the Doctor contended that the con¬
quest of the Indies from the natives was lawful,
and the Bishop maintained that it was unlaw¬
ful, tyrannical, and unjust, in the presence of
many theologians, lawyers, and other learned
men assembled by his Majesty.” (Antonii
Bibl. Hisp. Nova, tom. i. p. 192.)
Las Casas died in 1566, in the 92d year of
his age; Sepulveda died in 1571, in his 82d
year.
Sepulveda was the scholar of Pomponatius,
and a friend of Erasmus, Cardinal Pole, Aldus
Manutius, &c. In his book De Justis Belli
Causis contra Indos suscepti, he contended only
that the king might justly “ ad ditionem Indos,
non herilem sed regiam et civilem, lege belli re-
digere.” (Antonies in voce Sepulveda: Bibl.
Hisp. Nova, tom. i. p. 703.)
But this smooth and specious language covered
a poison. Had it entirely prevailed, the cruel
consequence of the defeat of the advocate of
the oppressed would alone have remained ; the
limitations and softenings employed by their
opponent to obtain success would have been
speedily disregarded and forgotten.
Covarruvias, another eminent Jurist, was sent
by Philip II. to the Council of Trent, at its re¬
newal in 1560, and, with Cardinal Buoncam-
pagni, drew up the decrees of reformation.
Francis Sanchez, the father of philosophical
grammar, published his Minerva at Salamanca Not
in 1587 ; so active was the cultivation of philo- Illlls“rn
sophy in Spain in the age of Cervantes. '^~v
Note M, p. 327.
“ Alors en repassant dans mon esprit les di-
verses opinions qui m’avoient tour-a-tour en-
traine depuis ma naissance, je vis que bien
qu’aucune d’elles nc fut assez evidente pour pro-
duire immediatement la conviction, elles avoient
divers degres de vraisemblance, et que 1’assenti-
ment interieur s’y pretoit ou s’y refusoit a diffe-
rentes mesures. Sur cette premiere observation,
comparant entr’ elles toutes ces differentes idees
dans le silence des prejuges, je trouvai que la
premiere, et la plus commune, etoit aussi la plus
simple et la plus raisonnable; et qu’il ne lui
manquoit, pour reunir tous les suffrages, que
d’avoir ete proposee la derniere. Imaginez tous
vos philosophes anciens et modernes, ayant d’a-
bord epuise leur bizarres systemes de forces, de
chances, de fatalite, de necessite, d’atomes, de
monde anime, de matiere vivante, de materia-
lisme de toute espece; et apres eux tous I’illustre
Clarke, eclairant le monde, annon^ant enfin PEtre
des etres, et le dispensateur des choses. Avec
quelle universelle admiration, avec quel applau-
dissement unanime n’eut point ete recu ce nou¬
veau systeme si grand, si consolant, si sublime,
si propre a clever Paine, a donner une base a la
vertu, et en meme terns si frappant, si lumineux,
si simple, et, ce me semble, offrant moins de
choses incomprehensibles a Pesprit humain, qu’il
n’en trouve d’absurdes en tout autre systeme!
Je me disois, les objections insolubles sont com¬
munes a tous, parceque Pesprit de Phomme est
trop borne pour les resoudre: elles ne prouvent
done rien contre aucun par preference, mais
quelle difference entre les preuves directes.”—
{Emile, tome III. livre iv. p. 25.)
Note N, p. 337.
“ Est autem jus quaedam potentia moralis, et
obligatio necessitas moralis. Moralem autem
intelligo, quae apud virum bonum aequipollet
naturali: Nam ut praeclare jurisconsultus Ro-
manus ait, quae contra bonos mores sunt, ea nec
^ ¥
DISSERTATION SECOND.
423
otes facere nos posse credendum est. Vir bonus autem
U rations. est> q11* amat <>mnes, quantum ratio permittit.
^ v'-O Justitiam igitur, qum virtus est hujus affectus
rectrix, quem Quhafyumav Graeci vocant, commo-
dissime, ni fallor, definiemus caritatem sapientis,
hoc est, sequentem sapientise dictata. Itaque,
quod Carneades dixisse fertur, justitiam esse
summam stultitiam, quiaalienis utilitatibus con¬
sul! jubeat, neglectis propriis, ex ignorata ejus
definitione natum est. Caritas est benevolentia
universalis, et benevolentia amandi sive diligendi
habitus. Amare autem sive diligere est felici¬
tate alterius delectari, vel, quod eodem redit, fe-
licitatem alienam adsciscere in suam. Unde
difficilis nodus solvitur, magni etiam in Theolo-
gia momenti, quomodo amor non mercenarius
detur, qni sit a spe metuque et omni utilitatis
respectu separatus: scilicet, quorum utilitas de-
lectat, eorum felicitas nostram ingreditur, nam
quae dclectant, per se expetuntur. Et uti pul-
chrorum contemplatio ipsa jucunda est, pictaqae
tabula Raphaelis intelligentem afficit, etsi nullos
census ferat, adeo ut in oculis deliciisque feratur,
quodam simulacra amoris; ita quum res pulchra
simul etiam felicitatis est capax, transit affectus
in verum amorem. Superat autem divinus amor
alios amores, quos Dens cum maximo successu
amare potest, quando Deo simul et felicius nihil
est, et nihil pulchrius felicitateque dignius intel-
ligi potest. Et quum idem sit potentise sapien-
tiasque summse, felicitas ejus non tantum ingre¬
ditur nostram (si sapimus, id est, ipsum ama-
mus), sed et facit. Quia autem sapientia carita¬
tem dirigere debet, hujus quoque definitione
opus erit. Arbitror autem notioni hominum op¬
time satisfieri, si sapientiam nihil aliud esse
dicamus, quam ipsam scientiam felicitatis.”
(Leibnitii Opera^ tom. IV. pars iii. p. 294.)
“ Et jus quidem merum sive strictum nascitur
ex pvincipio servandse pacis ; sequitas sive caritas
ad majus aliquid contendit, ut, dum quisque
alteri prodest quantum potest, felicitatem suam
augeat in aliena; et, ut verbo dicam, jus stric¬
tum miseriam vitat, jus superius ad felicitatem
tendit, sed qualis in banc mortalitatem cadit.
Quod vero ipsam vitam, et quicquid hanc vitam
expetendam facit, magno commodo alieno post-
habere debeamus, ita ut maximos etiam dolores in
alio rum gratiam perferre oporteat; magis pulchre
praecipitur a philosophis quam solide demonstra- Notes
tur. Nam decus et gloriam, et animi sui virtute m and-
° ^ Illustrations.
gaudentis sensum, ad quae sub bonestatis nomine
provocant, cogitationis sive mentis bona esse
constat, magna quidem, sed non omnibus nec
omni malorum acerbitati praevalitura, quando non
omnes aeque imaginando afficiuntur; praesertim
quos neque educatio liberalis, neque consuetudo
vivendi ingenua, vel vitae sectaeve disciplina ad
honoris aestimationem, vel animi bona sentienda
assuelecit. Ut vero universal! demonstratione
conficiatur, omne honestum esse utile, et omne
turpe damnosum, assumenda est immortalitas
animae, et rector universi Deus. Ita fit, ut omnes
in civitate perfectissima vivere intelligamur, sub
monarcha, qui nec ob sapientiam falli, nec ob
potentiam vitari potest; idemque tam amabilis
est, ut felicitas sit tali domino service. Huic
igitur qui animam impendit, Christo docente, earn
lucratur. Hujus potentia providentiaque effici-
tur, ut omne jus in factum transeat, ut nemo
laedatur nisi a se ipso, ut nihil recte gestum sine
praemio sit, nullum peccatum sine poena.” {Ibid.
p. 296.)
Note O, p. 340.
The writer of this Discourse was led, on a
former occasion, by a generally prevalent no¬
tion, too nearly to confound the theological doc¬
trine of predestination with the philosophical
opinion which supposed the determination of
the will to be, like other events, produced by
adequate causes. (See a criticism on Mr Stewart’s
Dissertation, Edinb. Review, XXXVI. 255.)
More careful reflection has corrected a confusion
common to him with most writers on the sub¬
ject. What is called Sublapsarian Calvinism,
which was the doctrine of the most eminent
men, including Augustin and Calvin himself,
ascribed to God, and to man before the fall, what
is called free-will, which they even own still to
exist in all the ordinary acts of life, though it
be lost with respect to religious morality. The
decree of election, on this scheme, arises from
God’s foreknowledge that man was to fall, and
that all men became thereby with justice liable
to eternal punishment. The election of some to
salvation was an act of divine goodness, and the
424
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes preterition of the rest was an exercise of holiness
Illustrations. an(I justice.
This suhlapsarian predestination is evidently
irreconcilable with the doctrine of necessity,
which considers free-will, or volitions not caused
by motives, as absolutely inconsistent with the
definition of an intelligent being, which is, that
he acts from a motive, or, in other words, with
a purpose.
The supralapsarian scheme, which represents
the fall itself as fore-ordained, may indeed be
built on necessitarian principles. But on that
scheme original sin seems wholly to lose that
importance which the former system gives it as
a revolution in the state of the world, requiring
an interposition of divine power to remedy a
part of its fatal effects. It becomes no more
than the first link in the chain of predestined
offences. Yet both Catholic and Protestant
predestinarians have borrowed the arguments
and distinctions of philosophical necessitarians.
One of the propositions of Jansenius, condemned
by the bull of Innocent X. in 1653, is, that “ to
merit or demerit in a state of lapsed nature, it
is not necessary that there should be in man a
liberty free from necessity; it is sufficient that
there be a liberty free from constraint.” (Dupin,
Histoire de VEglise en abrege, siecle xvii. livre iv.
chap.viii. p. 193.) Luther, in his once famous
treatise de Servo Arbitrio against Erasmus (print¬
ed in 1526), expresses himself as follows : 44 Hie
est fidei summus gradus, credere ilium esse cle-
mentem qui tam paucos salvat, tarn multos dam-
nat; credere justum qui sua voluntate nos ne-
cessario damnabiles facit, ut videatur, ut Eras¬
mus refert, delectari cruciatibus miserorum, et
odio potius quam amore dignus.” My copy of
this stern and abusive book is not paged. In
another passage, he states the distinction be¬
tween co-action and necessity as familiar a hun¬
dred and thirty years before it was proposed by
- Hobbes, or condemned in the Jansenists. 44 Ne-
cessario dico,non coacte,sed, ut illi dicunt, neces¬
sitate immutabilitatis, non coactionis; hoc est,
homo, cum vocat Spiritus Dei, non quidem vio-
lentia, velut raptus obtorto collo, nolens facit ma¬
lum, quemadmodum fur aut latro nolens ad poe-
nam ducitur, sed sponte et libera voluntate
facit.” He uses also the illustration of Hobbes,
from the difference between a stream forced n(
out of its course and freely flowing in its chan- a
, lllusti ons,
neb
Note P, p. 352.
Though some parts of the substance of the
following letter have already appeared in various
forms, perhaps the account of Mr Hume’s ill¬
ness, in the words of his friend and physician
Dr Cullen, will be acceptable to many readers.
I owe it to the kindness of Mrs Baillie, who had
the goodness to copy it from the original, in the
collection of her late learned and excellent hus¬
band, Dr Baillie. Some portion of what has
been formerly published I do not think it ne¬
cessary to reprint.
From Du Cullen to Dr Hunter.
44 My Dear Friend,—I was favoured with
yours by Mr Halket on Sunday, and have an¬
swered some part of it by a gentleman whom I
was otherwise obliged to write by ; but as I was
not certain how soon that might come to your
hand, I did not answer your postscript; in do¬
ing which, if I can oblige you, a part of the me¬
rit must be that of the information being early,
and I therefore give it you as soon as I possibly
could. You desire an account of Mr Hume’s
last days, and I give it you with some pleasure;
for though I could not look upon him in his ill¬
ness without much concern, yet the tranquillity
and pleasantry which he constantly discovered
did even then give me satisfaction, and, now
that the curtain is dropped, allows me to indulge
the less allayed reflection. He was truly an ex¬
ample des grands hommes qui sont morts en
plaisantant....For many weeks before his death
he was very sensible of his gradual decay; and
his answer to inquiries after his health was, seve¬
ral times, that he was going as fast as his ene¬
mies could wish, and as easily as his friends
could desire. He was not, however, without a
frequent recurrence of pain and uneasiness ; but
he passed most part of the day in his drawing¬
room, admitted the visits of his friends, and, with
his usual spirit, conversed with them upon lite¬
rature, politics, or whatever else ivas accidental¬
ly started. In conversation he seemed to be per-
DISSERTATION SECOND.
425
ates fectly at ease, and to the last abounded with
ind. that pleasantly, and those curious and enter-
I muons- ^a.n-ng aneccl0tes, which ever distinguished him.
This, however, I always considered rather as an
effort to he agreeable; and he at length acknow¬
ledged that it became too much for his strength.
For a few days before his death, he became more
averse to receive visits; speaking became more
and more difficult for him, and for twelve hours
before his death his speech failed altogether.
His senses and judgment did not fail till the last
hour of his life. He constantly discovered a
strong sensibility to the attention and care of his
friends; and, amidst great uneasiness and lan¬
guor, never betrayed any peevishness or impa¬
tience. This is a general account of his last
days; but a particular fact or two may perhaps
convey to you a still better idea of them.
# * # # #
‘ About a fortnight before his death, he added
a codicil to his will, in which he fully discover¬
ed his attention to his friends, as well as his own
pleasantry. What little wine he himself drank
was generally port, a wine for which his friend the
poet [John Home] had ever declared the strongest
aversion. David bequeaths to his friend John one
bottle of port; and, upon condition of his drink¬
ing this even at two down-sittings, bestows upon
him twelve dozen of his best claret. He plea¬
santly adds, that this subject of wine was the
only one upon which they had ever differed. In
the codicil there are several other strokes of
raillery and pleasantry, highly expressive of the
cheerfulness which he then enjoyed. He even
turned his attention to some of the simple amuse¬
ments with which he had been formerly pleased.
In the neighbourhood of his brother’s house in
Berwickshire is a brook, by which the access in
time of floods is frequently interrupted. Mr
Hume bequeaths L.100 for building a bridge
over this brook, but upon the express condition
that none of the stones for that purpose shall be
taken from a quarry in the neighbourhood,
which forms part of a romantic scene in which,
in his earlier days, Mr Hume took particular de¬
light. Otherwise the money to go to the poor
of the parish.
“ These are a few particulars which may per-
DISS. II.
haps appear trifling; but to me no particulars Notes
seem trifling that relate to so great a man. It iiius^iona>
is perhaps from trifles that we can best distin-
guish the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the
philosopher, at a time when the most part of
mankind are under disquiet, anxiety, and some¬
times even horror....I had gone so far when I
was called to the country; and I have returned
only so long before the post as to say, that I am
most affectionately yours,
“ William Cullen.
“ Edinburgh, ] 7th September 1776.”
Note Q, p. 353.
Pyrrho was charged with carrying his scepti¬
cism so far as not to avoid a carriage if it was
driven against him. iEnesidemus, the most
famous of ancient sceptics, with great probabi¬
lity vindicates the more ancient doubter from
such lunacy, of which indeed his having lived to
the age of ninety seems sufficient to acquit him.
A/VEd/^og he (pritit cpiXoffotpeiv /lev aurov xara rev rris erre^tji
"Koyov, [ir\ fievroi ye wrrgoogarus exatSra rrgarruv. (DlOG.
Laert. lib. ix. sect. 62.)
Brief and imperfect as our accounts of ancient
scepticism are, it does appear that their reason¬
ing on the subject of causation had some resem¬
blance to that of Mr Hume. Awx/goiusv de ro amor
ude' ro ainov rwv n eiri, rroog ya» roj ainuru idrr
ra he -rjog n emvoeirai /aovav he ow xcu ro amov out
vrnooiro av fjoovov. (Ibid. ix. sect. ST.) It is perhaps
impossible to translate the important technical
expression ra n. It comprehends two or
more things as related to each other both the
relative and correlative taken together as such.
Fire considered as having the power of burning
wood is ro ergog n. The words of Laertius may
therefore be nearly rendered into the language
of modern philosophy as follows: “ Causation
they take away thug. A cause is so only in re¬
lation to an effect. What is relative is only con¬
ceived, but does not exist. Therefore cause is a
mere conception.”
The first attempt to prove the necessity of be¬
lief in a divine revelation, by demonstrating that
natural reason leads to universal scepticism,
was made by Algazel, a professor at Bagdad, in
3 H
426
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes the beginning of the twelfth century of our era;
and. whose work entitled The Destruction of the
strations.
Philosopher is known to us only by the answer
of Averroes, called Destruction of the Destruc¬
tion. He denied a necessary connection be¬
tween cause and effect; for of two separate
things, the affirmation of the existence of one
does not necessarily contain the affirmation of
the existence of the other ; and the same may be
said of denial. It is curious enough that this
argument was more especially pointed against
those Arabian philosophers who, from the ne¬
cessary connection of causes and effects, reasoned
against the possibility of miracles; thus antici¬
pating one doctrine of Mr Hume, to impugn an¬
other. (Tenneman, Gesch. der Phil. VIII. 387.)
The same attempt was made by the learned
but unphilosophical Huet, bishop of Avranches
(Qucestiones Alnetance, Caen, 1690, and Traite de
la Foiblesse de VEsprit Humain, Amsterdam,
1723). A similar motive urged Berkeley to his
attack on Fluxions. The attempt of Huet has
been lately renewed by the Abbe Lamennais,
in his treatise on Religious Indifference ; a fine
writer, whose apparent reasonings amount to
little more than well-varied assertions, and well-
disguised assumptions of the points to be proved.
To build religion upon scepticism is the most
extravagant of all attempts; for it destroys the
proofs of a divine mission, and leaves no natural
* means of distinguishing between revelation and
imposture. The Abbe Lamennais represents
authority as the sole ground of belief. Why ?
If any reason can be given, the proposition
must be false; if none, it is obviously a mere
groundless assertion.
Note R, p. 356.
Casanova, a Venetian doomed to solitary im¬
prisonment in the dungeons at Venice in 1755,
thus speaks of the only books which for a time
he was allowed to read. The title of the first
was La Cite Mystique de Sceur Marie de Jesus,
appellee d’Agrada.
“ J’y lus tout ce que peut enfanter 1’imagina-
tion exaltee d’une vierge Espagnole extravagam-
ment devote, cloitree, melancholique, ayant des Notes
directeurs de conscience, ignorans, faux, et de- T„ and
. v . . - Elustratii,
vots. Amoureuse et amie tres mtime de la
Sainte Vierge, elle avait re^u ordre de Dieu
meme d’ecrire la vie de sa divine mere. Les in¬
structions necessaires lui avaient ete fournies par
le Saint Esprit. Elle commencoit la vie de Marie,
non pas du jour de sanaissance, mais du moment
de son immaculee conception dans le sein de sa
mere Anne. Apres avoir narre en detail tout
ce que sa divine heroine fit les neuf mois qu’elle
a passe dans le sein maternel, elle nous apprend
qu’a 1’age de trois ans elle balayoit la maison,
aidee par neuf cents domestiques, tous anges,
commandes par leur propre Prince Michel. Ce
qui frappe dans ce livre est Tassurance que tout
est dit de bonne foi. Ce sont les visions d’un
esprit sublime, qui, sans aucune ombre d’orgueil,
ivre de Dieu, croit ne reveler que ce que I’Esprit
Saint lui inspire.” (Memoires de Casanova, IV.
343. Leipsic, 1827.)
A week’s confinement to this volume produced
such an effect on the author, who, though an un¬
believer and a debauchee, was then enfeebled by
melancholy, bad air, and bad food, that his sleep
was haunted, and his waking hours disturbed by
its horrible visions. Many years after, passing
through Agrada in Old Castile, he charmed the
old priest of that village by speaking of the bio¬
grapher of the virgin. The priest showed him
all the spots which were consecrated by her pre¬
sence, and bitterly lamented that the Court of
Rome had refused to canonize her. It is the
natural reflection of the writer, that the book
was well qualified to turn a solitary prisoner
mad, or to make a man at large an atheist. It
ought not to be forgotten, that the inquisitors of
state at Venice, who proscribed this book, were
probably of the latter persuasion. It is a strik¬
ing instance of the infatuation of those who, in
their eagerness to rivet the bigotry of the igno¬
rant, use means which infallibly tend to spread
utter unbelief among the educated. The book
is a disgusting, but in its general outline seem¬
ingly faithful, picture of the dissolute manners
spread over the Continent of Europe in the
middle of the eighteenth century.
\
DISSERTATION SECOND.
427
Cote* Note S, p. 358.
and
] ,nations.
“ The Treatise on the Law of War and Peace,
the Essay on Human Understanding, the Spirit
of Laws, and the Inquiry into the Causes of the
Wealth of Nations, are the works which have
most directly influenced the general opinion of
Europe during the two last centuries. They
are also the most conspicuous landmarks in the
progress of the sciences to which they relate.
It is remarkable that the defects of all these
great works are very similar. The leading no¬
tions of none of them can, in the strictest sense,
be said to be original, though Locke and Smith
in that respect surpass their illustrious rivals.
All of them employ great care in ascertaining
those laws which are immediately deduced from
experience, or directly applicable to practice;
but apply metaphysical and abstract principles
with considerable negligence. None pursues
the order of science, beginning with first ele¬
ments, and advancing to more and more com¬
plicated conclusions ; though Locke is perhaps
less defective in method than the rest. All
admit digressions which, though often intrinsi¬
cally excellent, distract attention, and break the
chain of thought. None of them is happy in
the choice, or constant in the use, of technical
terms; and in none do we find much of that
rigorous precision which is the first beauty of
philosophical language. Grotius and Montes¬
quieu were imitators of Tacitus,—the first with
more gravity, the second with more vivacity;
but both were tempted to forsake the simple
diction of science, in pursuit of the poignant
brevity which that great historian has carried to
a vicious excess. Locke and Smith chose an
easy, clear, and free, but somewhat loose and
verbose style—more concise in Locke—more
elegant in Smith,—in both exempt from pedantry,
but not void of ambiguity and repetition. Per¬
haps all these apparent defects contributed in
some degree to the specific usefulness of these
great works; and, by rendering their contents
more accessible and acceptable to the majority
ot readers, have more completely blended their
principles with the common opinions of mankind.”
{Edinburgh Review, vol. XXXVI. p. 244.)
Note T, p. 363. Notes
arui
Illustrations.
As/ 8 ovrug, uiftfio ev ygufAfAurii'j} w /M'/jOiv ii-Traoyji
wn’kiyjia, ysyQaijjfjjMov' o-ttip ff'j/x/Stxm/ rou voo. (AltlST.
de Anima, lib. iii. cap. v. Opera, tom. II. p. 50.
Paris, 1639.)
A little before, in the same treatise, appears a
great part of the substance of the famous maxim,
Nil est in intellectu quod non prius fuit in sensu.
pavratT/a xivr}<ng ng cSoxs/ uvea, zui ow uvsu ansOyiffscog
yiyvitrdca. (Ibid. 47.)
In the tract on Memory and Reminiscence
we find his enumeration of the principles of as¬
sociation. A/o xa/ ro z<ps%7is drigtvofjvev, vor^nvng a.'iro rov
vvv rj aXXov rivog, xa; «©’ ifioiov 7] evavrm, r\ rou (Suvzyyvg.
{Ibid. II. 86.) If the latter word be applied to
time as well as space, and considered as compre¬
hending causation, the enumeration will coincide
with that of Hume. The term d^evu is as signi¬
ficant as if it had been chosen by Hobbes. But
it is to be observed, that these principles are ap¬
plied only to explain memory.
Something has been said on the subject, and
something on the present writer, by Mr Cole¬
ridge, in his unfortunately unfinished work called
Biographia Literaria, chap, v., which seems to
justify, if not to require, a few remarks. That
learned gentleman seems to have been guilty of
an oversight in quoting as a distinct work the
Parva Naturalia, which is the collective name
given by the scholastic translators to those trea¬
tises of Aristotle which form the second volume
of Duval’s edition of his works, published at
Paris in 1639. I have already acknowledged
the striking resemblance of Mr Hume’s prin¬
ciples of association to those of Aristotle. In
answer, however, to a remark of Mr Coleridge,
I must add, that the manuscript of a part of
Aquinas which I bought many years ago (on the
faith of a bookseller’s catalogue) as being written
by Mr Hume, was not a copy of the Commentary
on the Parva Naiuralia, but of Aquinas’s own
Secunda Secundce; and that, on examination, it
proves not to be the handwriting of Mr Hume,
and to contain nothing written by him. It is
certain that, in the passages immediately preced¬
ing the quotation, Aristotle explains recollection
as depending on a general law,—that the idea of
428
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Notes an object will remind us of the objects which
Illustrations immediately preceded or followed when origi-
nally perceived. But what Mr Coleridge has not
told us is, that the Stagyrite confines the appli¬
cation of this law exclusively to the phenomena of
recollection alone, without any glimpse of a more
general operation extending to all connections of
thought and feeling,—a wonderful proof, indeed,
even so limited, of the sagacity of the great phi¬
losopher, but which for many ages continued
barren of further consequences. The illustra¬
tions of Aquinas throw light on the original doc¬
trine, and show that it was unenlarged in his
time. “ When we recollect Socrates, the thought
of Plato occurs ‘as like him.’ When we re¬
member Hector, the thought of Achilles occurs
‘ as contrary.’ The idea of a father is followed
by that of a son ‘ as near.’ ” ( Aquin. Opera, I.
pars ii. p. 62, et seq.) Those of Ludovicus
Vives, as quoted by Mr Coleridge, extend no
farther.
But if Mr Coleridge will compare the parts of
Hobbes on Human Nature which relate to this
subject, with those which explain general terms,
he will perceive that the philosopher of Malmes¬
bury builds on these two foundations a general
theory of the human understanding, of which
reasoning is only a particular case. In conse¬
quence of the assertion of Mr Coleridge, that
Hobbes was anticipated by Descartes in his ex¬
cellent and interesting discourse on Method, I
have twice reperused that work in quest of this
remarkable anticipation, though, as I thought,
well acquainted by my old studies with the writ¬
ings of that great philosopher. My labour has,
however, been vain. I have discovered no trace
of that or of any similar speculation. My edi¬
tion is in Latin by Elzevir, at Amsterdam, in
1650, the year of Descartes’s death. I am
obliged, therefore, to conjecture that Mr Cole¬
ridge, having mislaid his references, has, by
mistake, quoted the discourse on Method, instead
of another work; which would affect his in¬
ference from the priority of Descartes to Hobbes.
It is not to be denied, that the opinion of Aris¬
totle, repeated by so many commentators, may
have found its way into the mind of Hobbes,
and also of Hume; though neither might be
aware of its source, or even conscious that it Notes
was not originally his own. Yet the very ijlu
narrow view of association by Locke, his appa-'s«^Y'*
rently treating it as a novelty, and the silence
of common books respecting it, afford a pre¬
sumption that the Peripatetic doctrine was so
little known, that it might have escaped the
notice of these philosophers, one of whom boast¬
ed that he was unread, and the other is not
liable to the suspicion of unacknowledged bor¬
rowing.
To Mr Coleridge, who distrusts his own power
of building a bridge by which his ideas may pass
into a mind so differently trained as mine, I
venture to suggest, with that sense of his genius
which no circumstance has hindered me from
seizing every fit occasion to manifest, that more
of my early years were employed in contempla¬
tions of an abstract nature, than of those of the
majority of his readers ; that there are not, even
now, many of them less likely to be repelled from
doctrines by singularity or uncouthness; more
willing to allow that every system has caught an
advantageous glimpse of some side or corner of
the truth; more desirous of exhibiting this dis¬
persion of the fragments of wisdom by attempts
to translate the doctrine of one school into the
language of another;—who, when he cannot
discover a reason for an opinion, considers it as
important to discover the causes of its adoption
by the philosopher; believing, in the most un¬
favourable cases, that one of the most arduous
and useful researches of mental philosophy is to
explore the subtile illusions which enable great
minds to satisfy themselves by mere words, be¬
fore they deceive others by payment in the same
counterfeit coin. These habits, together with
the natural influence of my age and avocations,
lead me to suspect that in speculative philosophy
I am nearer to indifference than to an exclusive
spirit. I hope that it can neither be thought
presumptuous nor offensive in me to doubt,
whether the circumstance of its being found
difficult to convey a metaphysical doctrine to a
person who, at one part of his life, made such
studies his chief pursuit, may not imply either
error in the opinion, or defect in the mode of
communication.
DISSERTATION SECOND.
429
Wes Note V, p. 379.
and
itrations. . .
A very late writer, who seems to speak ror
Mr Bentham with authority, tells us that “ the
first time the phrase of { the principle of utility’
was brought decidedly into notice, was in the
‘ Essays, by David Hume,’ published about the
year 1742. In that work it is mentioned as the
name of a principle which might be made the
foundation of a system of morals, in opposition
to a system then in vogue, which was founded on
what was called the 4 moral sense.’ The ideas,
however, there attached to it, are vague, and de¬
fective in practical application.” (Westminster Re¬
view, No. xxi.) If these few sentences were scru¬
tinized with the severity and minuteness of Ben-
tham’s Fragment on Government, they would be
found to contain almost as many misremembrances
as assertions. Utility is not 44 mentioned,” but
fully discussed, in Mr Hume’s Discourse. It is sel¬
dom spoken of by 44 name.” Instead of charging
it with 44 vagueness,” it would be more just to ad¬
mire the precision which it combines with beau¬
ty. Instead of being 44 defective in practical ap¬
plication,” perhaps the desire of rendering it po¬
pular has crowded it with examples and illus¬
trations taken from life. To the assertion that
“ it was opposed to the moral sense,” no reply can
be needful but the following words extracted
from the Discourse itself: 44 I am apt to suspect
that reason and sentiment concur in almost all
moral determinations and conclusions. The
final sentence which pronounces characters and
actions amiable or odious, probably depends on some
internal sense or feeling, which nature has made
universal in the whole species.” (An Enquiry con¬
cerning the Principles of Morals, sect, i.) The
phrase 44 made universal,” which is here used
instead of the more obvious and common word
4 implanted,” shows the anxious and perfect
precision of language, by which a philosopher
avoids the needless decision of a controversy not
at the moment before him.
Notes
ar.d
Illustrationc.
Note W, p. 380.
A writer of consummate ability, who has fail¬
ed in little but the respect due to the abilities
and character of his opponents, has given too
much countenance to the abuse and confusion of
language exemplified in the well-known verse of
Pope,
Modes of self-love the Passions we may call.
44 We know,” says he, 44 no universal proposi¬
tion respecting human nature which is true but
one—that men always act from self-interest.”
(Edinburgh Review, March 1829.) It is mani¬
fest from the sequel, that the writer is not the
dupe of the confusion ; but many of his readers
may be so. If, indeed, the word self-interest
could with propriety be used for the gratification
of every prevalent desire, he has clearly shown
that this change in the signification of terms
would be of no advantage to the doctrine which
he controverts. It would make as many sorts
of self-interest as there are appetites, and it is
irreconcilably at variance with the system of as¬
sociation embraced by Mr Mill. To the word
self-love Hartley properly assigns two signifi¬
cations : 1. Gross self-love, which consists in
the pursuit of the greatest pleasures, from all
those desires which look to individual gratifica¬
tion; or, 2. refined self-love, which seeks the
greatest pleasure which can arise from all the
desires of human nature,—the latter of which
is an invaluable, though inferior principle. The
admirable writer whose language has occasioned
this illustration, who at an early age has mastered
every species of composition, will doubtless hold
fast to simplicity, which survives all the fashions
of deviation from it, and which a man of a
genius so fertile has few temptations to forsake.
END OF THE SECOND DISSERTATION.
/
DISSERTATION THIRD;
EXHIBITING A GENERAL VIEW
OF THE
PROGRESS OF MATHEMATICAL AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE,
SINCE THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS IN EUROPE.
By JOHN PLAYFAIR,
PROFESSOR OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH,
FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON,
AND SECRETARY OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH.
»
DISSERTATION THIRD.
PART FIRST.
In conformity to the plan which has been
traced and executed with so much ability in the
First Dissertation, I am now to present the
reader with an historical sketch of the principal
discoveries made in Natural Philosophy, from
the revival of letters down to the present time.
In entering on this task, and on looking at the
instructive but formidable model already set be¬
fore me, I should experience no small solicitude,
did I not trust that the subject of which I am to
speak, in order to be interesting, needs only to
be treated with clearness and precision. These
two requisites I will endeavour to keep steadily
in view.
In the order which I am to follow, I shall be
guided solely by a regard to the subserviency of
one science to the progress of another, and to
the consequent priority of the former in the or¬
der of regular study. For this reason, the his¬
tory of the pure Mathematics will be first consi¬
dered, as that science has been one of the two
principal instruments applied by the moderns to
the advancement of natural knowledge. The
other instrument is Experience; and, therefore,
. DISS. HI. PART I.
the principles of the inductive method, or of the
branch of Logic which teaches the application
of experiment and observation to the interpre¬
tation of nature, must be the second object of
inquiry; and in this article I shall give an ac¬
count of Bacon’s Philosophy, as applied to Phy¬
sical investigation. After these two sections,
which may in some measure be considered as
introductory, I am to treat of Natural Philo¬
sophy, under the divisions of Mechanics, Astro¬
nomy, and Optics. Under the general denomi¬
nation of Mechanics I include the theory of Mo¬
tion, as applied not only to solids, but to fluids,
both incompressible and elastic. Optics I have
placed after Astronomy, because the discove¬
ries in Mechanics have much less affected the
progress of the former of these sciences than of
the latter. To these will succeed a sixth divi¬
sion, containing the laws of the three unknown
substances, if, indeed, they may be called sub¬
stances,—Heat, Electricity, and Magnetism.
These, though very different, agree in some ge¬
neral characters. They permeate all substances,
though not with the same facility; and, if other
3 i
434
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
bodies had been formed in the same manner
with them, the idea of impenetrability would
never have been suggested to the mind. They
seem to receive motion, without taking any away
from the body which communicates it; so that
they can hardly be considered as inert. Two of
them, Heat and Electricity, are perceived by the
sense of touch; but the impression which they
make does not convey an idea of resistance.
The third is not perceived by touch; and, there¬
fore, all the three might be denominated impal¬
pable substances. If they have any gravity, it
cannot be appreciated; and, for these reasons,
had it not too paradoxical an appearance, we
might class them together as material, but incor¬
poreal substances. We know, indeed, nothing
of them but as powers, transferable from one
body to another; and it is in consequence of this
last circumstance alone that they are entitled to
the name of substances.
Though the general design of this historical
sketch extends from the revival of letters to
the beginning of the nineteenth century, I
shall, in the present Part, confine myself en¬
tirely, as has been done in the first Disser¬
tation, to the period preceding the end of the
seventeenth century, or, more precisely, to
that preceding the invention of the fluxionary
calculus, and the discovery of the principle of
gravitation;—one of the most remarkable epo-
chas, without doubt, in the history of human
knowledge.
SECTION I.
MATHEMATICS.
1. GEOMETRY.
The great inheritance of mathematical know¬
ledge which the ancients bequeathed to poste¬
rity could not, on the revival of learning, be im¬
mediately taken possession of, nor could even its
existence be discovered, but by degrees. Though
the study of the Mathematics had never been
entirely abandoned, it had been reduced to mat¬
ters of very simple and easy comprehension,
such as were merely subservient to practice.
There had been men who could compute the
area of a triangle, draw a meridian line, or even
construct a sun-dial, in the worst of times; but
between such skill, and the capacity to under¬
stand or the taste to relish the demonstrations
of Euclid, Apollonius, or Archimedes, there was
a great interval, and many difficulties were to
be overcome, for which much time, and much
subsidiary knowledge, were necessary. The repo¬
sitories of the ancient treasures were to be open¬
ed, and made accessible; the knowledge of the
languages was to be acquired; the manuscripts
were to be deciphered; and the skill of the
grammarian and the critic were to precede, in
a certain degree, that of the geometrician or the
astronomer. The obligations which we have to
those who undertook this laborious and irksome
task, and who rescued the ancient books from
the prisons to which ignorance and barbarism
had condemned them, and from the final de¬
struction by which they must soon have been
overtaken, are such as we can never sufficiently
acknowledge; and indeed we shall never know
even the names of many of the benefactors to
whom our thanks are due. In the midst of the
wars, the confusion, and bloodshed, which over¬
whelmed Europe during the middle ages, tbe
religious houses and monasteries afforded to the
remains of ancient learning an asylum, which a
salutary prejudice forced even the most lawless
to respect; and the authors who have given the
best account of the revival of letters, agree that
it is in a great measure to those establishments
DISSERTATION THIRD.
435
that we owe the safety of the hooks which have
kept alive the scientific and literary attainments
of Greece and Rome.
The study of the remains of antiquity gradual¬
ly produced men of taste and intelligence, who
were able to correct the faults of the manu¬
scripts they copied, and to explain the difficul¬
ties of the authors they translated. Such were
Purbach, Regiomontanus, Commandine, Mau-
rolycus, and many others. By their means, the
writings of Euclid, Archimedes, Apollonius,
Ptolemy, and Pappus, became known and acces¬
sible to men of science. Arabia contributed its
share towards this great renovation, and from the
language of that country was derived the know¬
ledge of many Greek books, of the originals of
which, some were not found till long afterwards,
and others have never yet been discovered.
In nothing, perhaps, is the inventive and ele¬
gant genius of the Greeks better exemplified
than in their geometry. The elementary truths
of that science were connected by Euclid into
one great chain, beginning from the axioms,
and extending to the properties of the five regu¬
lar solids; the whole digested into such admir¬
able order, and explained with such clearness
and precision, that no similar work of superior
excellence has appeared, even in the present ad¬
vanced state of mathematical science.
Archimedes had assailed the more difficult
problems of geometry, and, by means of the
method of Exhaustions, had demonstrated many
curious and important theorems with regard to
the lengths and areas of curves and the con¬
tents of solids. The same great geometer had
given a beginning to physico-mathematical sci¬
ence, by investigating several propositions, and
resolving several problems in Mechanics and
Hydrostatics.
Apollonius had treated of the Conic Sections,
—the curves which, after the circle, are the
most simple and important in geometry; and,
by his elaborate and profound researches, had
laid the foundation of discoveries which were
to illustrate very distant ages.
Another great invention, the Geometrical
Analysis, ascribed very generally to the Plato¬
nic school, but most successfully cultivated by
the geometer just named, is one of the most in¬
genious and beautiful contrivances in the Mathe¬
matics. It is a method of discovering truth by
reasoning concerning things unknown, or pro¬
positions merely supposed, as if the one were
given, or the other were really true. A quan¬
tity that is unknown, is only to be found from
the relations which it bears to quantities that
are known. By reasoning on these relations,
we come at last to some one so simple, that the
thing sought is thereby determined. By this
analytical process, therefore, the thing required
is discovered, and we are at the same time put
in possession of an instrument by which new
truths may be found out, and which, when skill
in using it has been acquired by practice, may
be applied to an unlimited extent.
A similar process enables us to discover the
demonstrations of propositions, supposed to be
true, or, if not true, to discover that they are
false.
This method, to the consideration of which
we shall again have an opportunity of return¬
ing, was perhaps the most valuable part of the
ancient Mathematics, inasmuch as a method of
discovering truth is more valuable than the
truths it has already discovered. Unfortunate¬
ly, however, the fragments containing this pre¬
cious remnant had suffered more from the in¬
juries of time than almost any other.
In the fifteenth century, Regiomontanus, al¬
ready mentioned, is the mathematician who
holds the highest rank. To him we owe many
translations and commentaries, together with
several original and valuable works of his own.
Trigonometry, which had never been known to
the Greeks as a separate science, and which
took that form in Arabia, advanced, in the
hands of Regiomontanus, to a great degree of
perfection, and approached very near to the
condition which it has attained at the present
day. He also introduced the use of decimal
fractions into arithmetic, and thereby gave to
that scale its full extent, and to numerical com¬
putation the utmost degree of simplicity and
enlargement which it seems capable of attain¬
ing.
This eminent man was cut off in the prime
of life; and his untimely death, says Mr Smith,
amidst innumerable projects for the advance-
436
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ment of science, is even at tliis day a matter of
regret.1 He was buried in the Pantheon at
Rome; and the honours paid to him at his
death prove that science had now become a
distinction which the great were disposed to
recognise.
Werner, who lived in the end of this century,
is the first among the moderns who appears to
have been acquainted with the geometrical ana¬
lysis. His writings are very rare, and I have
never had an opportunity of examining them.
What I here assert is on the authority of Mon-
tucla, whose judgment in this matter may be
safely relied on, as he has shown, by many in¬
stances, that he was well acquainted with the
nature of the analysis referred to. It is not a
little remarkable that Werner should have under¬
stood this subject, when we find many eminent
mathematicians, long after his time, entirely
unacquainted with it, and continually express¬
ing their astonishment how the ancient geo¬
meters found out those simple and elegant con¬
structions and demonstrations, of which they
have given so many examples. In the days of
Werner there was no ancient book known, ex¬
cept the Data of Euclid, from which any infor¬
mation concerning the geometrical analysis could
be collected; and it is highly to his credit, that,
without any other help, he should have come to
the knowledge of a method not a little recondite
in its principles, and among the finest inventions
either of ancient or of modern science. Werner
resolved, by means of it, Archimedes’s problem
of cutting a sphere into two segments, having a
given ratio to one another. He proposed also to
translate, from the Arabic, the work of Apollo¬
nius, entitled Sectio Bationis, rightly judging it
to be an elementary work in that analysis, and
to come next after the Data of Euclid.2
Benedetto, an Italian mathematician, appears
also to have been very early acquainted with the
principles of the same ingenious method, as he
published a book on the geometrical analysis at
Turin in 1585.
Maurolycusof Messina flourished in the middle
of the sixteenth century, and is justly regarded
as the first geometer of that age. Beside fur¬
nishing many valuable translations and com¬
mentaries, he wrote a treatise on the Conic Sec¬
tions, which is highly esteemed. He endeavour¬
ed also to restore the fifth book of the Conics of
Apollonius, in which that geometer treated of
the maxima and minima of the conic sections.
His writings all indicate a man of clear concep¬
tions, and of a strong understanding; though
he is taxed with having dealt in astrological pre¬
diction.
In the early part of the seventeenth century,
Cavalleri was particularly distinguished, and
made an advance in the higher geometry, which
occupies the middle place between the discoveries
of Archimedes and those of Newton.
For the purpose of determining the lengths
and areas of curves, and the contents of solids
contained within curve superficies, the ancients
had invented a method, to which the name of
Exhaustions has been given ; and in nothing,
perhaps, have they more displayed their powers
of mathematical invention.
Whenever it is required to measure the space
bounded by curve lines, the length of a curve,
or the solid contained within a curve superficies,
the investigation does not fall within the range
of elementary geometry. Rectilineal figures are
compared, on the principle of superposition, by
help of the notion of equality which is derived
from the coincidence of magnitudes both similar
and equal. Two rectangles of equal bases and
equal altitudes are held to be equal, because they
can perfectly coincide. A rectangle and an
oblique angled parallelogram, having equal bases
and altitudes, are shown to be equal, because
the same triangle, taken from the rectangle on
one side, and added to it on the other, converts
it into the parallelogram; and thus two magni¬
tudes which are not similar, are shown to have
equal areas. In like manner, if a triangle and
a parallelogram have the same base and altitude,
the triangle is shown to be half the parallelo¬
gram ; because, if to the triangle there be added
another, similar and equal to itself, but in the
reverse position, the two together will compose
1 History of Astronomy, p. 90. Regiomontanus was born in 1436, and died in 1476.
1 See Mon xu cl a, Histoire des Mathemuliques, vol. I. p. 581.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
437
a parallelogram, having the same base and alti¬
tude with the given triangle. The same is true
of the comparison of all other rectilineal figures;
and if the reasoning be carefully analyzed, it
will always he found to be reducible to the pri¬
mitive and original idea of equality, derived
from things that coincide or occupy the same
space; that is to say, the areas which are proved
equal are always such as, by the addition or
subtraction of equal and similar parts, may be
rendered capable of coinciding with one another.
This principle, which is quite general with re¬
spect to rectilineal figures, must fail, when we
would compare curvilineal and rectilineal spaces
with one another, and make the latter serve as
measures of the former; because no addition or
subtraction of rectilineal figures can ever pro¬
duce a figure which is curvilineal. It is possible,
indeed, to combine curvilineal figures, so as to
produce one that is rectilineal; but this principle
is of very limited extent; it led to the quadra¬
ture of the lunulce of Hippocrates, hut has hard¬
ly furnished any other result which can he con¬
sidered as valuable in science.
In the difficulty to which geometers were thus
reduced, it might occur, that hy inscribing a
rectilineal figure within a curve, and circum¬
scribing another round it, two limits could he
obtained, one greater and the other less than the
area required. It was also evident, that by in¬
creasing the number, and diminishing the sides
of those figures, the two limits might be brought
continually nearer to one another, and of course
nearer to the curvilineal area, which was always
intermediate between them. In prosecuting this
sort of approximation, a result was at length
found out, which must have occasioned no less
surprise than delight to the mathematician who
first encountered it. The result I mean is, that,
when the series of inscribed figures was con¬
tinually increased, by multiplying the number
of the sides, and diminishing their size, there
was an assignable rectilineal area, to which they
continually approached, so as to come nearer it
than any difference that could be supposed. The
same limit would also be observed to belong to
the circumscribed figures, and therefore it could
be no other than the curvilineal area required.
It appears to have been to Archimedes that a
truth of this sort first occurred, when he found
that two-thirds of the rectangle, under the or¬
dinate and abscissa of a parabola, was a limit
always greater than the inscribed rectilineal
figure, and less than the circumscribed. In
some other curves, a similar conclusion was
found; and Archimedes contrived to show that
it was impossible to suppose that the area of
the curve could differ from the said limit, with¬
out admitting that the circumscribed figure
might become less, or the inscribed figure great¬
er than the curve itself. The method of Ex¬
haustions was the name given to the indirect
demonstrations thus formed. Though few things
more ingenious than this method have been de¬
vised, and though nothing could be more con¬
clusive than the demonstrations resulting from
it, yet it laboured under two very considerable
defects. In the first place, the process by which
the demonstration was obtained was long and
difficult; and, in the second place, it was indi¬
rect, giving no insight into the principle on
which the investigation was founded. Of con¬
sequence, it did not enable one to find out simi¬
lar demonstrations, nor increase one’s power of
making more discoveries of the same kind. It'
was a demonstration purely synthetical, and re¬
quired, as all indirect reasoning must do, that
the conclusion should be known before the rea¬
soning is begun. A more compendious, and a
more analytical method, was therefore much to
be wished for, and was an improvement which,
at a moment when the field of mathematical
science was enlarging so fast, seemed particu¬
larly to be required.
Cavalleri, born at Milan in the year 1598, is
the person by whom this great improvement
was made. The principle on which he proceed¬
ed was, that areas may be considered as made
up of an infinite number of parallel lines; so¬
lids of an infinite number of parallel planes ;
and even lines themselves, whether curve or
straight, of an infinite number of points. The
cubature of a solid being thus reduced to the
summation of a series of planes, and the quad¬
rature of a curve to the summation of a series
of ordinates, each of the investigations was re¬
duced to something more simple. It added to
this simplicity not a little, that the sums of se-
438
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ries are often more easily found when the num¬
ber of terms is infinitely great, than when it is
finite, and actually assigned.
It appears that a tract on Stereometry, writ¬
ten by Kepler, whose name will hereafter be
often mentioned, first led Cavalleri to take
this view of geometrical magnitudes. In that
tract, which was published in 1615, the mea¬
surement of many solids was proposed, Avhich
had not before fallen under the consideration of
mathematicians. Such, for example, was that
of the solids generated by the revolution of a
curve, not about its axis, but about any line
whatsoever. Solids of that kind, on account of
their affinity with the figure of casks, and ves¬
sels actually employed for containing liquids,
appeared to Kepler to offer both curious and
useful subjects of investigation. There were no
less than eighty-four such solids, which he pro¬
posed for the consideration of mathematicians.
He was, however, himself unequal to the task
of resolving any but a small number of the
simplest of these problems. In these solutions,
he was bold enough to introduce into geometry,
for the first time, the idea of infinitely great
and infinitely small quantities; and by this ap¬
parent departure from the rigour of the science,
he rendered it in fact a most essential service.
Kepler conceived a circle to be composed of an
infinite number of triangles, having their com¬
mon vertex in the centre of the circle, and their
infinitely small bases in the circumference. It
is to be remarked, that Galileo had also intro¬
duced the notion of infinitely small quantities,
in his first dialogue, De Mechanica, where he
treats of a cylinder cut out of a hemisphere;
and he has done the same in treating of the ac¬
celeration of falling bodies. Cavalleri was the
friend and disciple of Galileo, but much more
profound in the Mathematics. In his hands the
idea took a more regular and systematic form,
and was explained in his work on Indivisibles,
published in 1635.
The rule for summing an infinite series of
terms in arithmetical progression had been long
known, and the application of it to find the area
of a triangle, according to the method of indi¬
visibles, was a matter of no difficulty. The
next step was, supposing a series of lines in
arithmetical progression, and squares to be de¬
scribed on each of them, to find what ratio the
sum of all these squares bears to the greatest
square, taken as often as there are terms in the
progression. Cavalleri showed, that when the
number of terms is infinitely great, the first of
these sums is just one-third of the second. This
evidently led to the cubature of many solids.
Proceeding one step farther, he sought for
the sum of the cubes of the same lines, and
found it to be one-fourth of the greatest, taken
as often as there are terms; and, continuing
this investigation, he was able to assign the sum
of the nth powers of a series in arithmetical
progression, supposing always the difference of
the terms to be infinitely small, and their num¬
ber to be infinitely great. The number of cu¬
rious results obtained from these investigations
may be easily conceived. It gave, over geome¬
trical problems of the higher class, the same
power which the integral calculus, or the in¬
verse method of fluxions does, in the case when
the exponent of the variable quantity is an in¬
teger. The method of indivisibles, however,
was not without difficulties, and could not hut
be liable to objection, with those accustomed to
the rigorous exactness of the ancient geometry.
In strictness, lines, however multiplied, cau
never make an area, or any thing but a line;
nor can areas, however they may be added to¬
gether, compose a solid, or any thing but an area.
This is certainly true, and yet the conclusions
of Cavalleri, deduced on a contrary supposition,
are true also. This happened, because, though
the suppositions that a certain series of lines, in¬
finite in number, and contiguous to one another,
may compose a certain area, and that another
series may compose another area, are neither of
them true; yet is it strictly true, that the one
of these areas must have to the other the same
ratio which the sum of the one series of lines
has to the sum of the other series. Thus, it is
the ratios of the areas, and not the areas abso¬
lutely considered, which are determined by the
reasonings of Cavalleri; and that this determi¬
nation of their ratios is quite accurate, can very
readily be demonstrated by the method of ex¬
haustions.
The method of indivisibles, from the great
DISSERTATION THIRD.
439
facility with which it could be managed, fur¬
nished a most ready method of ascertaining'
the ratios of areas and solids to one another,
and, therefore, scarcely seems to deserve the
epithet which Newton himself bestows upon it,
of involving in its conceptions something harsh,
(durum) and not easy to he admitted. It was
the doctrine of infinitely small quantities carried
to the extreme, and gave at once the result of
an infinite series of successive approximations.
Nothing, perhaps, more ingenious, and certainly
nothing more happy, ever was contrived, than
to arrive at the conclusion of all these approxi¬
mations, without going through the approxima¬
tions themselves. This is the purpose served
by introducing into Mathematics the considera¬
tion of quantities infinitely small in size, and
infinitely great in number; ideas which, how¬
ever inaccurate they may seem, yet, when care¬
fully and analogically reasoned upon, have never
led into error.
Geometry owes to Cavalleri, not only the ge¬
neral method just described, but many particular
theorems, which that method was the instru¬
ment of discovering. Among these is the very
remarkable proposition, that as four rigid angles,
to the excess of the three angles of any spherical
triangle, above two right angles, so is the superficies
of the hemisphere to the area of the triangle. At
that time, however, science was advancing so
fast, and the human mind was everywhere ex¬
panding itself wfith so much energy, that the
same discovery was likely to be made by more
individuals than one at the same time. It was
not known in Italy in 1632, when this deter¬
mination of the area of a spherical triangle was
given by Cavalleri, that it had been published
three years before by Albert Girard, a mathe¬
matician of the Low Countries, of whose in¬
ventive powers we shall soon have more occa¬
sion to speak.
The Cycloid afforded a number of problems,
well calculated to exercise the proficients in the
geometry of indivisibles, or of infinites. It is
the curve described by a point in the circumfe¬
rence of a circle, while the circle itself rolls in
a straight line along a plane. It is not quite
certain when this curve, so remarkable for its
curious properties, and for the place which it
occupies in the history of geometry, first drew
the attention of math-ematicians. In the year
1639, Galileo informed his friend Torricelli,
that, forty years before that time, he had thought
of this curve, on account of its shape, and the
graceful form it would give to arches in archi¬
tecture. The same philosopher had endeavoured
to find the area of the cycloid; but though he
was one of those who first introduced the con¬
sideration of infinites into geometry, he was not
expert enough in the use of that doctrine, to be
able to resolve this problem. It is still more
extraordinary, that the same problem proved
too difficult for Cavalleri, though he certainly
was in complete possession of the principles by
which it was to be resolved. It is, however, not
easy to determine whether it be to Torricelli,
the scholar of Cavalleri, and his successor in
genius and talents, or to Roberval, a French
mathematician of the same period, and a man
also of great originality and invention, that sci¬
ence is indebted for the first quadrature of the
cycloid, or the proof that its area is three times
that of its generating circle. Both these mathe¬
maticians laid claim to it. The French and
Italians each took the part of their own coun¬
tryman ; and in their zeal have so perplexed the
question, that it is hard to say on which side
the truth is to be found. Torricelli, however,
was a man of a mild, amiable, and candid dis¬
position ; Roberval of a temper irritable, vio¬
lent, and envious; so that, in as far as the testi¬
mony of the individuals themselves is concerned,
there is no doubt which ought to preponderate.
They had both the skill and talent which fitted
them for this, or even for more difficult re¬
searches.
The other properties of this curve, those that
respect its tangents, its length, its curvature,
&c. exercised the ingenuity, not only of the
geometers just mentioned, but of Wren, Wallis,
Huygens, and, even after the invention of the
integral calculus, of Newton, Leibnitz, and Ber¬
noulli.
Roberval also improved the method of quad¬
ratures invented by Cavalleri, and extended his
solutions to the case, when the powers of the
terms in the arithmetical progression of which
the sum was to be found were fractional; and
440
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Wallis added the case when they were negative.
Fermat, who, in his inventive resources, as well
as in the correctness of his mathematical taste,1
yielded to none of his contemporaries, applied
the consideration of infinitely small quantities
to determine the maxima and minima of the or¬
dinates of curves, as also their tangents. Ear-
row, somewhat later, did the same in England.
Afterwards the geometry of infinites fell into
the hands of Leibnitz and Newton, and acquired
that new character which marks so distinguished
an era in the mathematical sciences.
2. ALGEBRA.
It was not from Greece alone that the light
proceeded which dispelled the darkness of the
middle ages; for, with the first dawn of that
light, a mathematical science, of a name and
character unknown to the geometers of antiqui¬
ty, was received in Europe from Arabia. As
early as the beginning of the thirteenth century,
Leonardo, a merchant of Pisa, having made fre¬
quent visits to the East, in the course of com¬
mercial adventure, returned to Italy enriched
by the traffic, and instructed by the science of
those countries. He brought with him the know¬
ledge of Algebra; and a late writer quotes a
manuscript of his, hearing the date of 1202, and
another that of 1228.2 The importation of al¬
gebra into Europe is thus carried back nearly
200 years farther than has generally been sup¬
posed; for Leonardo has been represented as
flourishing in the end of the fourteenth century,
instead of the very beginning of the thirteenth.
It appears, by an extract from his manuscript,
published by the above author, that his know¬
ledge of algebra extended as far as quadratic
equations. The language was very imperfect,
corresponding to the infancy of the science; the
quantities and the operations being expressed in
words, with the help only of a few abbreviations.
The rule for resolving quadratics by completing
the square, is demonstrated geometrically.
Though algebra was brought into Europe
from Arabia, it is by no means certain that this
last is its native country. There is, indeed,
reason to think that its invention must he
sought for much farther to the East, and pro¬
bably not nearer than Indostan. We are as¬
sured by the Arabian writers, that Mahomet
Ben Musa of Chorasan, distinguished for his
mathematical knowledge, travelled, about the
year 959, into India, for the purpose of receiving
further instruction in the science which he cul¬
tivated. It is likewise certain, that some books,
which have lately been brought from India into
this country, treat of algebra in a manner that
has every appearance of originality, or at least
of being derived from no source with which we
are at all acquainted.
Before the time of Leonardo of Pisa, an im¬
portant acquisition, also from the East, had
greatly improved the science of arithmetic.
This was the use of the Arabic notation, and
the contrivance of making the same character
change its signification, according to a fixed
rule, when it changed its position, being increased
tenfold for every place that it advanced towards
the left. The knowledge of this simple but re¬
fined artifice was learned from the Moors by
Gerbert, a monk of the Low Countries, in the
tenth century, and by him made known in Eu¬
rope. Gerbert was afterwards Pope, by the
name of Silvester the Second, but from that
high dignity derived much less glory than from
having instructed his countrymen in the deci¬
mal notation.
The writings of Leonardo, above mentioned,
have remained in manuscript; and the first
printed book in algebra is that of Lucas de
Burgo, a Franciscan, who, towards the end of
the fifteenth century, travelled, like Leonardo,
into the East, and was there instructed in the
principles of algebra. The characters employed
in his work, as in those of Leonardo, are mere
abbreviations of words. The letters p and m
1 He also was very skilful in the geometric analysis, and seems to have more thoroughly imbibed the spirit of that in¬
genious invention than any of the moderns before Halley.
2 M. Cossali of Pisa, in a tract on the Origin of Algebra, 1797-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
441
denote phis and minus; and the rule is laid
down, that, in multiplication, plus into minus
gives minus, but minus into minus gives plus.
Thus the first appearance of algebra is merely
that of a system of short-hand writing, or an
abbreviation of common language, applied to
the solution of arithmetical problems. It was
a contrivance merely to save trouble; and yet
to this contrivance we are indebted for the
most philosophical and refined art which men
have yet employed for the expression of their
thoughts. This scientific language, therefore,
like those in common use, has grown up slowly,
from a very weak and imperfect state, till it
has reached the condition in which it is now
found.
Though in all this the moderns received none
of their information from the Greeks, yet a work
in the Greek language, treating of arithmetical
questions, in a manner that may he accounted
algebraic, was discovered in the course of the
next century, and given to the world, in a Latin
translation, by Xylander, in 1575. This is the
work of Diophantus of Alexandria, who had
composed thirteen books of Arithmetical Ques¬
tions, and is supposed to have flourished about
150 years after the Christian era. The ques¬
tions he resolves are often of considerable diffi¬
culty ; and a great deal of address is displayed
in stating them, so as to bring out equations of
such a form as to involve only one power of the
unknown quantity. The expression is that of
common language, abbreviated and assisted by
a few symbols. The investigations do not ex¬
tend beyond quadratic equations; they are,
however, extremely ingenious, and prove the
author to have been a man of talent, though the
instrument he worked with was weak and im¬
perfect.
The name of Cardan is famous in the history
of algebra. He was horn at Milan in 1501, and
was a man in whose character good and ill,
strength and weakness, were mixed up in sin¬
gular profusion. With great talents and indus¬
try, he was capricious, insincere, and vain-glo¬
rious to excess. Though a man of real science,
he professed divination, and was such a believer
in the influence of the stars, that he died to ac¬
complish an astrological prediction. He remains,
niss. in. part i.
accordingly, a melancholy proof, that there is no
folly or weakness too great to be united to high
intellectual attainments.
Before his time very little advance had been
made in the solution of any equations higher
than the second degree; except that, as we are
told, about the year 1508, Scipio Ferrei, Profes¬
sor of Mathematics at Bologna, had found out a
rule for resolving one of the cases of cubic equa¬
tions, which, however, he concealed, or commu¬
nicated only to a few of his scholars. One of
these, Florido, on the strength of the secret he
possessed, agreeably to a practice then common
among mathematicians, challenged Tartalea of
Brescia, to contend with him in the solution of
algebraic problems. Florido had at first the ad¬
vantage ; hut Tartalea, being a man of ingenuity,
soon discovered his rule, and also another much
more general, in consequence of which he came
off at last victorious. By the report of this vic¬
tory, the curiosity of Cardan was strongly ex¬
cited ; for, though he was himself much versed
in the Mathematics, he had not been able to dis¬
cover a method of resolving equations higher
than the second degree. By the most earnest
and importunate solicitation, he wrung from
Tartalea the secret of his rules, hut not till he
had bound himself, by promises and oaths, never
to divulge them. Tartalea did not communicate
the demonstrations, which, however, Cardan
soon found out, and extended, in a very inge¬
nious and systematic manner, to all cubic equa¬
tions whatsoever. Thus possessed of an import¬
ant discovery, which was at least in a great part
his own, he soon forgot his promises to Tartalea,
and published the whole in 1545, not concealing,
however, what he owed to the latter. Though
a proceeding so directly contrary to an express
stipulation cannot he defended, one does not
much regret the disappointment of any man
who would make a mystery of knowledge, or
keep his discoveries a secret, for purposes mere¬
ly selfish.
Thus was first published the rule which still
hears the name of Cardan, and which, at this
day, marks a point in the progress of algebraic
investigation, which all the efforts of succeeding
analysts have hardly been able to go beyond.
As to the general doctrine of equations, it ap-
3 K
442
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
pears that Cardan was acquainted both with
the negative and positive roots, the former of
which he called by the name of false roots. He
also knew that the number of positive, or, as he
called them, true roots, is equal to the number
of the changes of the signs of the terms; and
that the coefficient of the second term is the dif¬
ference between the sum of the true and the
false roots. He also had perceived the difficulty
of that case of cubic equations, which cannot be
reduced to his own rule. He was not able to
overcome the difficulty, but showed how, in all
cases, an approximation to the roots might be
obtained.
There is the more merit in these discoveries,
that the language of algebra still remained very
imperfect, and consisted merely of abbreviations
of words. Mathematicians were then in the prac¬
tice of putting their rules into verse. Cardan
has given his a poetical dress, in which, as may
be supposed, they arc very awkward and ob¬
scure ; for whatever assistance in this way is
given to the memory, must be entirely at the
expense of the understanding. It is, at the same
time, a proof that the language of algebra was
very imperfect. Nobody now thinks of trans¬
lating an algebraic formula into verse ; because,
if one has acquired any familiarity with the lan¬
guage of the science, the formula will be more
easily remembered than any thing that can be
substituted in its room.
Italy was not the only country into which the
algebraic analysis had by this time found its
way : in Germany it had also made considerable
progress; and Stiphelius, in a book of algebra,
published at Nuremberg in 1544, employed the
same numeral exponents of powers, both posi¬
tive and negative, which we now use, as far as
integer numbers are concerned ; but he did not
carry the solution of equations farther than the
second degree. He introduced the same charac¬
ters for plus and minus which are at present em¬
ployed.
Robert Recorde, an English mathematician,
published about this time, or a few years later,
the first English treatise on Algebra, and he
there introduced the same sign of equality which
is now in use.
The properties of algebraic equations were
discovered, however, very slowly. Pelitarius, a
French mathematician, in a treatise which bears
the date of 1558, is the first who observed that
the root of an equation is a divisor of the last
term ; and he remarked also this curious pro¬
perty of numbers, that the sum of the cubes of
the natural numbers is the square of the sum of
the numbers themselves.
The knowledge of the solution of cubic equa¬
tions was still confined to Italy. Bombelli, a
mathematician of that country, gave a regular
treatise on Algebra, and considered, with very
particular attention, the irreducible case of Car¬
dan’s rule. He was the first who made the re¬
mark, that the problems belonging to that case can
always be resolved by the trisection of an arch.1
Vieta was a very learned man, and an excel¬
lent mathematician, remarkable both for indus¬
try and invention. He was the first who em¬
ployed letters to denote the known as well as
the unknown quantities; so that it was with him
that the language of algebra first became capable
of expressing general truths, and attained to
that extension which has since rendered it such
a powerful instrument of investigation. He has
also given new demonstrations of the rule for
resolving cubic, and even biquadratic equations.
He also discovered the relation between the roots
of an equation of any degree, and the coefficients
of its terms, though only in the case where none
of the terms are wanting, and where all the roots
are real or positive. It is, indeed, extremely cu¬
rious to remark, how gradually the truths of this
1 A passage in Bombelli’s book, relative to the algebra of India, has become more interesting, from the information
concerning the science of that country, which has reached Europe within the last twenty years. He tells us, that he had
seen in the Vatican library, a manuscript of a certain Diophantus, a Greek author, which he admired 50 much, that he had
formed the design of translating it. He adds, that in this manuscript he had found the Indian authors often quoted; from
which it appeared that algebra was known to the Indians before it was known to the Arabians. Nothing, however, of all
this is to be found in the work of Diophantus, which was published about three years after the time when Bombelli wrote.
As it is, at the same time, impossible that he could be so much mistaken about a manuscript which he had particularly ex¬
amined, this passage remains a mystery, which those who are curious about the ancient history of science would be very
glad to have unravelled. See Hutton’s History of Algebra.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
443
sort came in sight. This proposition belonged
to a general truth, the greater part of which
remained yet to he discovered. Yieta’s treatises
were originally published about the year 1600,
and were afterwards collected into one volume
by Schooten, in 1646.
In speaking of this illustrious man, Vieta, we
must not omit his improvements in trigonome¬
try, and still less his treatise on Angular Sec¬
tions, which was a most important application
of algebra to investigate the theorems, and re¬
solve the problems of geometry. He also re¬
stored some of the books of Apollonius, in a
manner highly creditable to his own ingenuity,
but not perfectly in the taste of the Greek geo¬
metry; because, though the constructions are
elegant, the demonstrations are all synthetical.
About the same period, algebra became great¬
ly indebted to Albert Girard, a Flemish mathe¬
matician, whose principal work, Invention Nou-
velle en Algebre, was printed in 1669. This in¬
genious author perceived a greater extent, but
not yet the whole of the truth, partially discov¬
ered by Vieta, viz. the successive formation of
the coefficients of an equation from the sum of
the roots ; the sum of their products taken two
and two; the same taken three and three, &c.
whether the roots he positive or negative. He
appears also to have been the first who under¬
stood the use of negative roots in the solution
of geometrical problems, and is the author of the
figurative expression, which gives to negative
quantities the name of quantities less than nothing;
a phrase that has been severely censured by those
who forget that there are correct ideas, which
correct language can hardly he made to express.
The same mathematician conceived the notion of
imaginary roots, and showed that the number of
the I'oots of an equation could not exceed the
exponent of the highest power of the unknown
quantity. He was also in possession of the very
refined and difficult rule, which forms the sums
of the powers of the roots of an equation from
the coefficients of its terms. This is the greatest
list of discoveries which the history of any alge¬
braist could yet furnish.
The person next in order, as an inventor in
algebra, is Thomas Harriot, an English mathe¬
matician, whose book, Artis Analytic^ Praxis,
was published after his death, in 1631. This
book contains the genesis of all equations, by
the continued multiplication of simple equa¬
tions ; that is to say, it explains the truth in its
full extent, to which Vieta and Girard had been
approximating. By Harriot also, the method
of extracting the roots of equations was greatly
improved; the smaller letters of the alphabet,
instead of the capital letters employed by Vieta,
were introduced ; and by this improvement,
trifling, indeed, compared with the rest, the
form and exterior of algebraic expression were
brought nearer to those which are now in use.
I have been the more careful to note very
particularly the degrees by which the properties
of equations were thus unfolded, because I think
it forms an instance hardly paralleled in science,
where a succession of able men, without going
wrong, advanced, nevertheless, so slowly in the
discovery of a truth which, when known, does
not seem to be of a very hidden and abstruse
nature. Their slow progress arose from this,
that they worked with an instrument, the use of
which they did not fully comprehend, and em¬
ployed a language which expressed more than
they were prepared to understand;—a language
which, under the notion, first of negative and
then of imaginary quantities, seemed to involve
such mysteries as the accuracy of mathematical
science must necessarily refuse to admit.
The distinguished author of whom I have
just been speaking was born at Oxford in 1560.
He was employed in the second expedition sent
out by Sir Walter Raleigh to Virginia, and on
his return published an account of that country.
He afterwards deAToted himself entirely to the
study of the Mathematics; and it appears from
some of his manuscripts, lately discovered, that
he observed the spots of the sun as early as De¬
cember 1610, not more than a month later than
Galileo. He also made observations on Jupiter’s
satellites, and on the comets of 1607 and of
1618.1
1 The manuscripts which contain these observations, and probably many other things of great inteiest, aie
the collection of the Earl of Egremont, having come into the possession of his family from Henry lercy, Earl
berland, a most liberal patron of science, with whom Harriot appears to have chiefly lived alter Ins return from irgnn
preserved in
of Northum-
444
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
The succession of discoveries above related
brought the algebraic analysis., abstractly con¬
sidered, into a state of perfection little short of
that which it has attained at the present mo¬
ment. It was thus prepared for the step which
was about to be taken by Descartes, and which
forms one of the most important epochas in the
history of the mathematical sciences. This was
the application of the algebraic analysis, to de¬
fine the nature, and investigate the properties,
of curve lines, and, consequently, to represent
the notion of variable quantity. It is often said
that Descartes was the first who applied algebra
to geometry; but this is inaccurate; for such
applications had been made before, particularly
by Yieta, in his treatise on Angular Sections.
The invention just mentioned is the undisputed
property of Descartes, and opened up vast fields of
discovery for those who were to come after him.
The work in which this was contained is a
tract of no more than 106 quarto pages; and
there is probably no book of the same size which
has. conferred so much and so just celebrity on
its author. It was first published in 1631.
In the first of tlie three books into which the
tract just mentioned is divided, the author begins
with the consideration of such geometrical pro¬
blems as may be resolved by circles and straight
lines; and explains the method of constructing
algebraic formulas, or of translating a truth from
the language of algebra into that of geometry.
He then proceeds to the consideration of the
problem, known among the ancients by the name
of the locus ad quatuor rectus, and treated of by
Apollonius and Pappus. The algebraic analysis
afforded a method of resolving this problem in
its full extent; and the consideration of it is
again resumed in the second book. The thing
required is, to find the locus of a point, from
which, if perpendiculars be drawn to four lines
given in position, a given function of these per¬
pendiculars, in which the variable quantities are
only of two dimensions, shall be always of the
same magnitude.1 Descartes shows the locus,
on this hypothesis, to be always a conic section;
and he distinguishes the cases in which it is y,
circle, an ellipsis, a parabola, or a hyperbola.
It was an instance of the most extensive investi¬
gation which had yet been undertaken in geo¬
metry, though, to render it a complete solution
of the problem, much more detail was doubtless
necessary. The investigation is extended to the
cases where the function, which remains the
same, is of three, four, or five dimensions, and
where the locus is a line of a higher order,
though it may, in certain circumstances, become
a conic section. The lines given in position may
be more than four, or than any given number;
and the lines drawn to them may either be per¬
pendiculars, or lines making given angles with
them. The same analysis applies to all the
cases; and this problem, therefore, afforded an
excellent example of the use of algebra in the
investigation of geometrical propositions. The
author takes notice of the unwillingness of the
ancients to transfer the language of arithmetic
into geometry, so that they were forced to have
recourse to.very circuitous methods of expressing
those relations of quantity in which powers be¬
yond the third are introduced. Indeed, to de¬
liver investigation from those modes of. expres¬
sion which involve the composition of ratios, and
to substitute in their room the multiplication of
the numerical measures, is of itself a very great
advantage, arising from the introduction of alge¬
bra into geometry.
In this book also, an ingenious method of
drawing tangents to curves is proposed by Des¬
cartes, as following from his general principles;
and it is an invention with which he appears to
have been particularly pleased. He says, “Nec-
verebor dicere, problems hoc non mqdp eorum
quae scio utilissimum et generalissimum esse,
sed etiam eorum quae in geometria scire unquam
desideraverim,”2 This passage is not a little
characteristic of Descartes, who was very much
disposed to think well pf what he had dope him¬
self, and even to suppose that it could not easily
It will easily be perceived, that the wordi function is not contained in the original enunciation of the problem. It is a
erm hut lately introduced into mathematical language, and affords here, as on many other occasions, a more general apd
more concise expression than could be otherwise obtained.
3 CAjaxqgn Geometria, p. 40.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
445
be rendered more perfect. The truth, however,
is, that his method of drawing tangents is ex¬
tremely operose, and is one of those hasty views
which, though ingenious and even profound, re¬
quire to he vastly simplified, before they can he
reduced to practice. Fermat, the rival and
sometimes the superior of Descartes, was far
more fortunate with regard to this problem, and
his method of drawing tangents to curves is the
same in effect that has been followed by all the
geometers since his time; while that of Des¬
cartes, which could only be valued when the
other was unknown, has been long since entire¬
ly abandoned. The remainder of the second
book is occupied with the consideration of the
curves, which have been called the Ovals of Des¬
cartes, and with some investigations concerning
the centres of lenses; the whole indicating the
hand of a great master, and deserving the most
diligent study of those who would become ac¬
quainted with this great enlargement of mathe¬
matical science.
The third book of the geometry ti’eats of the
construction of equations by geometric curves,
and it also contains a new method of resolving
biquadratic equations.
The leading principles of algebra were now
unfolded, and the notation was brought, from a
mere contrivance for abridging common lan¬
guage, to a system of symbolical writing, ad¬
mirably fitted to assist the mind in the exercise
of thought.
The happy idea, indeed, of expressing quanti¬
ty, and the operations on quantity, by conven¬
tional symbols, instead of representing the first
by real magnitudes, and enunciating the second
in words, could not but make a great change on
the nature of mathematical investigation. The
language of Mathematics, whatever may be its
form, must always consist of two parts; the one
denoting quantities simply, and the other denot¬
ing the manner in which the quantities are com¬
bined, or the operations understood to be per¬
formed on them. Geometry expresses the first
of these by real magnitudes, or by what may be
called natural signs; a line by a line, an angle
by an angle, an area by an area, &c.; and it de¬
scribes the latter by words. Algebra, on the
other hand, denotes both quantity, and the
operations on quantity, by the same system of
conventional symbols. Thus, in the expression
x3—a x2 + b3 = o, the letters a, b, x, denote
quantities, but the terms x3, a x2, &c. denote
certain operations performed on those quantities,
as well as the quantities themselves; x3 is the
quantity x raised to the cube; and ax* the same
quantity x raised to the square, and then multi¬
plied into a, &c.; the combination, by addition
or subtraction, being also expressed by the signs
+ and —.
Now, it is when applied to this latter purpose
that the algebraic language possesses such ex¬
clusive excellence. The mere magnitudes them¬
selves might be represented by figures, as in
geometry, as well as in any way whatever ; but
the operations they are to be subjected to, if
described in words, must be set before the mind
slowly, and in succession, so that the impression
is weakened, and the clear apprehension ren¬
dered difficult. In the algebraic expression, on
the other hand, so much meaning is concentrat¬
ed into a narrow space, and the impression
made by all the parts is so simultaneous, that
nothing can be more favourable to the exertion
of the reasoning powers, to the continuance of
their action, and their security against error.
Another advantage resulting from the use of the
same notation, consists in the reduction of all
the different relations among quantities to the
simplest of those relations, that of equality, and
the expression of it by equations. This gives a
great facility of generalization, and of compar¬
ing quantities with one another. A third arises
from the substitution of the arithmetical opera¬
tions of multiplication and division, for the geo¬
metrical method of the composition and resolu¬
tion of ratios. Of the first of these, the idea is
so clear, and the work so simple; of the second,
the idea is comparatively so obscure, and the
process so complex, that the substitution of the
former for the latter could not but be accom¬
panied with great advantage. This is, in¬
deed, what constitutes the great difference in
practice between the algebraic and the geome¬
tric method of treating quantity. When the
quantities are of a complex nature, so as to go
beyond what in algebra is called the third
power, the geometrical expression is so circuit-
446
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ous and involved, that it renders the reasoning
most laborious and intricate. The great facili¬
ty of generalization in algebra, of deducing one
thing from another, and of adapting the analy¬
sis to every kind of research, whether the quan¬
tities he constant or variable, finite or infinite,
depends on this principle more than any other.
Few of the early algebraists seem to have been
aware of these advantages.
The use of the signs plus and minus has given
rise to some dispute. These signs were at first
used, the one to. denote addition, the other sub¬
traction, and for a long time were applied to no
other purpose. But as, in the multiplication of
a quantity, consisting of parts connected by
those signs, into another quantity similarly
composed, it was always found, and could be
universally demonstrated, that, in uniting the
particular products of which the total was made
up, those of which both the factors had the sign
minus before them, must be added into one sum
with those of which all the factors had the sign
plus, while those of which one of the factors
had the sign plus, and the other the sign minus,
must be subtracted from the same,—this gene¬
ral rule came to he more simply expressed by
saying, that in multiplication like signs gave
plus, and that unlike signs gave minus.
Hence the signs plus and minus were con¬
sidered, not as merely denoting the relation of
one quantity to another placed before it, but, by
a kind of fiction, they were considered as de¬
noting qualities inherent in the quantities to the
names of which they were prefixed. This fic¬
tion was found extremely useful, and it was
evident that no error could arise from it. It
was necessary to have a rule for determining
the sign belonging to a product, from the signs
of the factors composing that product, inde¬
pendently of every other consideration; and
this was precisely the purpose for which the
above fiction was introduced. So necessary is
this rule in the generalizations of algebra, that
we meet with it in Diophantus, notwithstanding
the imperfection of the language he employed;
for he states, that into Au^ig gives
'TVagl'/g, &c. The reduction, therefore, of the
operations on quantity to an arithmetical form,
necessarily involves this use of the signs plus or
minus ; that is, their application to denote some¬
thing like absolute qualities in the objects they
collect together. The attempts to free algebra
from this use of the signs have of course failed,
and must ever do so, if we would preserve to
that science the extent and facility of its opera¬
tions.
Even the most scrupulous purist in mathema¬
tical language must admit, that no real error is
ever introduced by employing the signs in this
most abstract sense. If the equation xz -}- pa9
+ + r = o, be said to have one positive and
two negative roots, this is certainly as excep¬
tionable an application of the term negative as
any that can be proposed; yet, in reality, it
means nothing but this intelligible and simple
truth, that a5 + P^ + qx + r = (x — a)
(x + b) (x + c); or that the former of these
quantities is produced by the multiplication of
the three binomial factors, x — a, x + b, x + c.
We might say the same nearly as to imaginary
roots : they show that the simple factors cannot
be found, hut that the quadratic factors may he
found; and they also point out the means of
discovering them.
The aptitude of these same signs to denote
contrariety of position among geometric magni¬
tudes, makes the foregoing application of them
infinitely more extensive and more indispensable.
From the same source arises the great simpli¬
city introduced into many of the theorems and
rules of the mathematical sciences. Thus, the
rule for finding the latitude of a place from the
sun’s meridian altitude, if we employ the signs
plus and minus for indicating the position of the
sun and of the place relatively to the equator, is
enunciated in one simple proposition, which in¬
cludes every case, without any thing either com¬
plex or ambiguous. But if this is not done,
if the signs plus and minus are not employed,
there must he at least two rules; one when the
sun and place are on the same side of the equa¬
tor, and another when they are on different
sides. In the more complicated calculations of
spherical trigonometry, this holds still more re¬
markably. When one would accommodate such
rules to those who are unacquainted with the
use of the algebraic signs, they are perhaps not
to he expressed in less than four, or even six
DISSERTATION THIRD.
447
different propositions; whereas, if the use of
these signs is supposed, the whole is compre¬
hended in a single sentence. In such cases, it
is obvious that both the memory and under¬
standing derive great advantage from the use of
the signs, and profit by a simplification, which
is the work entirely of the algebraic language,
and cannot be imitated by any other.
That I might not interrupt the view of im¬
provements so closely connected with one ano¬
ther, I have passed over one of the discoveries,
which does the greatest honour to the seventeenth
century, and which took place near the beginning
of it.
As the accuracy of astronomical observation
had been continually advancing, it was necessary
that the correctness of trigonometrical calcula¬
tion, and of course its difficulty, should advance
in the same proportion. The signs and tangents
of angles could not he expressed with sufficient
correctness without decimal fractions, extending
to five or six places below unity; and when to
three such numbers a fourth proportional was to
be found, the work of multiplication and division
became extremely laborious. Accordingly, in
the end of the sixteenth century, the time and
labour consumed in such calculations had become
excessive, and were felt as extremely burdensome
by the mathematicians and astronomers all over
Europe. Napier of Merchiston, whose mind
seems to have been peculiarly turned to arithme¬
tical researches, and who was also devoted to
the study of astronomy, had early sought for the
means of relieving himself and others from this
difficulty. He had viewed the subject in a varie¬
ty of lights, and a number of ingenious devices
had occurred to him, by which the tediousness
of arithmetical operations might, more or less
completely, be avoided. In the course of these
attempts, he did not fail to observe, that when¬
ever the numbers to be multiplied or divided
were terms of a geometrical progression, the pro¬
duct or the quotient must also be a term of that
progression, and must occupy a place in it point¬
ed out by the places of the given numbers, so
that it might be found from mere inspection, if
the progression were far enough continued. If,
for instance, the third term of the progression
were to be multiplied by the seventh, the pro¬
duct must be the tenth; and if the twelfth were
to be divided by the fourth, the quotient must
be the eighth; so that the multiplication and
division of such terms was reduced to the addi¬
tion and subtraction of the numbers which in¬
dicated their places in the progression.
This observation, or one very similar to it,
was made by Archimedes, and was employed by
that great geometer to convey an idea of a num¬
ber too vast to be correctly expressed by the
arithmetical notation of the Greeks. Thus far,
however, there was no difficulty; and the dis¬
covery might certainly have been made by men
much inferior either to Napier or Archimedes.
What remained to be done, what Archimedes
did not attempt, and what Napier completely
pei'formed, involved two great difficulties. It is
plain, that the resource of the geometrical pro¬
gression was sufficient, when the given numbers
were terms of that progression; but if they were
not, it did not seem that any advantage could
be derived from it. Napier, however, perceiv¬
ed, and it was by no means obvious, that all
numbers whatsoever might be inserted in the
progression, and have their places assigned in it.
After conceiving the possibility of this, the next
difficulty was, to discover the principle, and to
execute the arithmetical process, by which these
places were to be ascertained. It is in these two
points that the peculiar merit of his invention
consists; and at a period when the nature of
series, and when every other resource of which
he could avail himself, were so little known, his
success argues a depth and originality of thought
which, I am persuaded, have rarely been sur¬
passed.
The way in which he satisfied himself that
all numbers might be intercalated between the
terms of the given progression, and by which he
found the places they must occupy, was founded
on a most ingenious supposition; that of two
points describing two different lines, the one with
a constant velocity, and the other with a veloci¬
ty al ways increasing in the ratio of the space the
point had already gone over: the first of these
would generate magnitudes in arithmetical, and
the second magnitudes in geometrical progression.
It is plain, that all numbers whatsoever would
find their places among the magnitudes so gene-
448
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
rated; and, indeed, this view of the subject is as
simple and profound as any which, after two
hundred years, has yet presented itself to mathe¬
maticians. The mode of deducing the results
has been simplified; but it can hardly be said
that the principle has been more clearly deve¬
loped.
I need not observe, that the numbers which
indicate the places of the terms of the geome¬
trical progression are called by Napier the loga¬
rithms of those terms.
Various systems of logarithms, it is evident,
may be constructed according to the geometrical
progression assumed; and of these, that which
was first contrived by Napier, though the
simplest, and the foundation of the rest, was not
so convenient for the purposes of calculation, as
one which soon afterwards occurred, both to him¬
self and his friend Briggs, by whom the actual
calculation was performed. The new system of
logarithms was an improvement, practically
considered; but in as far as it was connected
with the principle of the invention, it is only of
secondary consideration. The original tables
had been also somewhat embarrassed by too
close a connection between them and trigono¬
metry. The new tables were free from this in¬
convenience.
It is probable, however, that the greatest in¬
ventor in science was never able to do more
than to accelerate the progress of discovery, and
to anticipate what time, “ the author of authors,”
would have gradually brought to light. Though
logarithms had not been invented by Napier,
they would have been discovered in the progress
of the algebraic analysis, when the arithmetic
of powers and exponents, both integral and frac¬
tional, came to be fully understood. The idea
of considering all numbers as powers of one
given number would then have readily occurred,
and the doctrine of series would have greatly
facilitated the calculations which it was neces¬
sary to undertake. Napier had none of these
advantages, and they were all supplied by the
resources of his own mind. Indeed, as there
never was any invention for which the state of
knowledge had less prepared the way, there
never was any where more merit fell to the
share of the inventor.
His good fortune, also, not less than his great
sagacity, may be remarked. Had the invention
of logarithms been delayed to the end of the
seventeenth century, it would have come about
without effort, and would not have conferred on
the author the high celebrity which Napier so
justly derives from it. In another respect he
has also been fortunate. Many inventions have
been eclipsed or obscured by new discoveries;
or they have been so altered by subsequent im¬
provements, that their original form can hardly
be recognised, and, in some instances, has been
entirely forgotten. This has almost always hap¬
pened to the discoveries made at an early period
in the progress of science, and before their prin¬
ciples were fully unfolded. It has been quite
otherwise with the invention of logarithms,
which came out of the hands of the author so
perfect, that it has never received but one ma¬
terial improvement,—that which it derived, as
has just been said, from the ingenuity of his
friend in conj unction with his own. Subsequent
improvements in science, instead of offering any
thing that could supplant this invention, have
only enlarged the circle to which its utility
extended. Logarithms have been applied to
numberless purposes, which were not thought
of at the time of their first construction. Even
the sagacity of their author did not see the
immense fertility of the principle he had dis¬
covered : he calculated his tables merely to
facilitate arithmetical, and chiefly trigonome¬
trical computation; and little imagined that
he was at the same time constructing a scale
whereon to measure the density of the strata
of the atmosphere, and the heights of moun¬
tains ; that he was actually computing the areas
and the lengths of innumerable curves, and
was preparing for a calculus which was yet
to be discovered, many of the most refined and
most valuable of its resources. Of Napier,
therefore, if of any man, it may safely be pro¬
nounced, that his name will never be eclipsed
by any one more conspicuous, or his invention
superseded by any thing more valuable.
As a geometrician, Napier has left behind him
a noble monument in the two trigonometrical
theorems, which are known by his name, and
which appear first to have been communicated
DISSERTATION THIRD.
449
in writing to Cavalleri, who has mentioned them cularly adapted to logarithmic calculation. They
with great eulogy.1 They are theorems not a were published in the Canon Mirificus Logarith-
little difficult, and of much use, as being parti- morum, at Edinburgh, in 1614.*
SECTION II.
EXPERIMENTAL INVESTIGATION.
In this section I shall begin with a short view analysis of the Novum Organum ; and shall then
of the state of Physical Knowledge before the inquire how far the principles established in that
introduction of the Inductive Method; I shall work have actually contributed to the advance-
next endeavour to explain that method by an ment of Natural Philosophy.
1. ANCIENT PHYSICS.
Though the phenomena of the material world
could not but early excite the curiosity of a
being who, like man, receives his strongest im¬
pressions from without, yet an accurate know¬
ledge of those phenomena, and their laws, was
not to be speedily acquired. The mere extent
and variety of the objects were, indeed, such ob¬
stacles to that acquisition, as could not be sur¬
mounted but in the course of many ages. Man
could not at first perceive from what point he
must begin his inquiries, in what direction he
must carry them on, or by what rules he must
be guided. He was like a traveller going forth
to explore a vast and unknown wilderness, in
which a multitude of great and interesting ob¬
jects presented themselves on every side, while
there was no path for him to follow, no rule to
direct his survey, and where the art of observ¬
ing, and the instruments of observation, must
equally be the work of his own invention. In
these circumstances, the selection of the objects
to be studied was the effect of instinct rather than
of reason, or of the passions and emotions, more
than of the understanding. When things new,
and unlike those which occurred in the course
of every day’s experience, presented themselves,
they excited wonder or surprise, and created an
anxiety to discover some principle which might
connect them with the appearances commonly
observed. About these last, men felt no desire
to be further informed; but when the common
order of things was violated, and something new
or singular was produced, they began to exa¬
mine into the fact, and attempted to inquire into
the cause. Nobody sought to know why a
stone fell to the ground, why smoke ascended,
or why the stars revolved round the earth. But
if a fiery meteor shot across the heavens,—if
the flames of a volcano burst forth,—or if an
earthquake shook the foundations of the world,
terror and curiosity were both awakened; and
when the former emotion had subsided, the
latter was sure to become active. Thus, to
trace a resemblance between the events with
which the observer was most familiar, and
those to which he was less accustomed, and
which had excited his wonder, was the first ob¬
ject of inquiry, and produced the first advances
towards generalization and philosophy.5
This principle, which it were easy to trace,
1 Wallis, Opera Math. tom. II. p. 875.
a A reprint of the Canon Mirificus, from the original edition, is given in the sixth volume of the great Thesaurus, in
which Baron Maseres, with his usual zeal and intelligence, has collected and illustrated every thing of importance that has
been written on the subject of logarithms. See Scriptores Logarithmici, 4to. vol. VI. p. 475.
* La maraviglia
Dell’ ignoranza d la figlia,
E del sapere
La madre.
2IS8. III. PART I. 3 I.
450
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
from tribes the most rude and barbarous, to na¬
tions the most highly refined, was what yielded
the first attempts toward classification and ar¬
rangement, and enabled man, out of individuals
subject to perpetual change, to form certain
fixed and permanent objects of knowledge,—
the species, genera,, orders, and classes, into
which he has distributed these individuals. By
this effort of mental abstraction, he has created
to himself a new and intellectual world, free
from those changes and vicissitudes to which
all material things are destined. This, too, is a
work not peculiar to the philosopher, but, in a
certain degree, is performed by every man who
compares one thing with another, and who em¬
ploys the terms of ordinary language.
Another great branch of knowledge is occu¬
pied, not about the mere arrangement and clas¬
sification of objects, but about events or changes,
the laws which those changes observe, and the
causes by which they are produced. In a sci¬
ence which treated of events and of change, the
nature and properties of motion came of course
to be studied, and the ancient philosophers na¬
turally enough began their inquiries with the
definition of motion, or the determination of
that in which it consists. Aristotle’s definition
is highly characteristical of the vagueness and
obscurity of bis physical speculations. He calls
motion 44 the act of a being in power, as far
as in powerwords to which it is impossi¬
ble that any distinct idea can ever have been
annexed.
The truth is, however, that the best defini¬
tion of motion can be of very little service in
Physics. Epicurus defined it to be the 44 change
of place,” which is, no doubt, the simplest and
best definition that can be given; but it must,
at the same time, be confessed, that neither he,
nor the moderns who have retained his defini¬
tion, have derived the least advantage from it
in their subsequent researches. The properties,
or, as they are called, the laws of motion, can¬
not be derived from mere definition ; they must
be sought for in experience and observation, and
are not to be found without a diligent compari¬
son, and scrupulous examination of facts. Of
such an examination, neither Aristotle, nor any
other of the ancients, ever conceived the ne¬
cessity ; and hence those laws remained quite
unknown throughout all antiquity.
When the laws of motion were unknown, the
other parts of Natural Philosophy could make no
great advances. Instead of concemng that there
resides in body a natural and universal tendency
to persevere in the same state, whether of rest
or of motion, they believed that terrestrial bo¬
dies tended naturally either to fall to the ground,
or to ascend from it, till they attained their own
place; but that, if they were impelled by an ob¬
lique force, then their motion became unnatural
or violent, and tended continually to decay. With
the heavenly bodies, again, the natural motion
was circular and uniform, eternal in its course,
but perpetually varying in its direction. Thus,
by the distinction between natural and violent
motion among the bodies of the earth, and the
distinction between what we may call the laws
of motion in terrestrial and celestial bodies, the
ancients threw into all their reasonings upon this
fundamental subject a confusion and perplexi¬
ty, from which their philosophy never was de¬
livered.
There was, however, one part of physical
knowledge in which their endeavours were at¬
tended with much better success, and in which
they made important discoveries. This was in
the branch of mechanics which treats of the
action of forces in equilibria, and producing not
motion but rest; a subject which may be under¬
stood, though the laws of motion are unknown.
The first writer on this subject is Archimedes.
He treated of the lever, and of the centre of
gravity; and has shown that there will be an
equilibrium between two heavy bodies connect¬
ed by an inflexible rod or lever, when the point
in which the lever is supported is so placed be¬
tween the bodies, that their distances from it
are inversely as their weights. Great ingenuity
is displayed in this demonstration ; and it is re¬
markable, that the author borrows no principle
from experiment, but establishes his conclusion
entirely by reasoning a priori. He assumes, in¬
deed, that equal bodies, at the ends of the equal
arms of a lever, will balance one another; and
also, that a cylinder, or parallelepiped of homo¬
geneous matter, will be balanced about its centre
of magnitude. These, however, are not inferences
DISSERTATION THIRD.
451
from experience; they are, properly speaking-,
conclusions deduced from the principle of the
sufficient reason.
The same great geometer gave a beginning to
the science of hydrostatics, and discovered the
law which determines the loss of weight sustain¬
ed by a body on being immersed in water, or in
any other fluid. His demonstration rests on a
principle, which he lays down as a postulatum,
that, in water, the parts which are less pressed
are always ready to yield in any direction to
those that are more pressed; and from this, by
the application of mathematical reasoning, the
whole theory of floating bodies is derived. The
above is the same principle on which the mo¬
dern writers on hydrostatics proceed; they give
it, not as a postulatum, hut as constituting the
definition of a fluid.
Archimedes, therefore, is the person who first
made the application of Mathematics to Natural
Philosophy. No individual, perhaps, ever laid
the foundation of more great discoveries than that
geometer, of whom Wallis has said with so much
truth, “ Vir stupendae sagacitatis, qui prima
fundamenta posuit inventionum fere omnium, in
quibus promovendis aetas nostra gloriatur.”
The mechanical inquiries, begun by the geo¬
meter of Syracuse, were extended by Ctesibius
and Hero ; by Anthemius of Tralles ; and, last¬
ly, by Pappus Alexandrinus. Ctesibius and
Hero were the first who analyzed mechanical
engines, reducing them all to combinations of
five simple mechanical contrivances, to which
they gave the name of Auva/xf/j, or Powers, the
same which they retain at the present moment.
Even in mechanics, however, the success of
these investigations was limited; and failed in
those cases where the resolution of forces is ne¬
cessary, that principle being then entirely un¬
known. Hence the force necessary to sustain a
body on an inclined plane, is incorrectly deter¬
mined by Pappus, and serves to mark a point
to which the mechanical theories of antiquity
did not extend.
In another department of physical knowledge,
astronomy, the endeavours of the ancients were
also accompanied with success. I do not here
speak of their astronomical theories, which were,
indeed, very defective, hut of their discovery of
the apparent motions of the heavenly bodies,
from the observations begun by Hipparchus, and
continued by Ptolemy. In this their success
was great; and while the earth was supposed to
be at rest, and while the instruments of obser¬
vation had but a very limited degree of accuracy,
a nearer approach to the truth was probably not
within the power of human ingenuity. Mathe¬
matical reasoning was very skilfully applied;
and no men whatever, in the same circum¬
stances, are likely to have performed more than
the ancient astronomers. They succeeded, be¬
cause they were observers, and examined care¬
fully the motions which they treated of. The
philosophers, again, who studied the motion of
terrestrial bodies, either did not observe at all,
or observed so slightly, that they could obtain
no accurate knowledge; and in general they
knew just enough of the facts to be misled by
them.
The opposite ways which the ancients thus
took to study the Heavens and the Earth, obser¬
ving the one, and dreaming, as one may say,
over the other, though a striking inconsistency,
is not difficult to be explained.
No information at all could be obtained in as¬
tronomy, without regular and assiduous obser¬
vation, and without instruments capable of mea¬
suring angles, and of measuring time, either di¬
rectly or indirectly. The steadiness and regu¬
larity of the celestial motions seemed to invite
the most scrupulous attention. On the other
hand, as terrestrial objects were always at hand,
and spontaneously falling under men’s view, it
seemed unnecessary to take much trouble to be¬
come acquainted with them; and as for applying
measures, their irregularity appeared to render
every idea of such proceeding nugatory. The
Aristotelian philosophy particularly favoured
this prejudice, by representing the earth, and
all things on its surface, as full of irregularity
and confusion, while the principles of heat and
cold, dryness and moisture, were in a state of
perpetual warfare. The unfortunate division of
motion into natural and violent, and the dis¬
tinction, still more unfortunate, between the pro¬
perties of motion and of body, in the heavens and
on the earth, prevented all intercourse between
the astronomer and the naturalist, and all trans-
V
452
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ference of the maxims of the one to the specula¬
tions of the other.
Though, on account of this inattention to ex¬
periment, nothing like the true system of Natu¬
ral Philosophy was known to the ancients, there
are, nevertheless, to he found in their writings
many brilliant conceptions, several fortunate
conjectures, and gleams of the light which was
afterwards to he so generally diffused.
Anaxagoras and Empedocles, for example,
taught that the moon shines hy light borrowed
from the sun, and were led to that opinion, not
only from the phases of the moon, hut from its
light being weak, and unaccompanied hy heat.
That it was a habitable body, like the earth,
appears to be a doctrine as old as Orpheus;
some lines, ascribed to that poet, representing
the moon as an earth, with mountains and cities
on its surface. ,
Democritus supposed the spots on the face of
the moon to arise from the inequalities of the
surface, and from the shadows of the more ele¬
vated parts projected on the plains. Every one
knows how conformable this is to the discoveries
made by the telescope.
Plutarch considers the velocity of the moon’s
motion as the cause which prevents that body
from falling to the earth, just as the motion of
a stone in a sling prevents it from falling to the
ground. The comparison is, in a certain de¬
gree, just, and clearly implies the notion of
centrifugal force; and gravity may also be con¬
sidered as pointed at for the cause which gives
the moon a tendency to the earth. Here, there¬
fore, a foundation was laid for the true philo¬
sophy of the celestial motions; but it was laid
without effect. It was merely the conjecture
of an ingenious mind, wandering through the
regions of possibility, guided by no- evidence,
and having no principle which could give sta¬
bility to its opinions. Democritus, and the
authors of that physical system which Lucretius
has so beautifully illustrated, were still more
fortunate in some of their conjectures. They
taught that the Milky Way is the light of a great
number of small stars, very close to one another; a
magnificent conception, which the latest improve¬
ments of the telescope have fully verified. Yet, as
if to convince us that they derived this knowledge
from no pure or certain source, the same philo¬
sophers maintained, that the sun and the moon
are bodies no larger than they appear to us to be.
Very just notions concerning comets were
entertained by some of the ancients. The Chal¬
deans considered those bodies as belonging to
the same order with the planets; and this was
also the opinion of Anaxagoras, Pythagoras,
and Democritus. The remark of Seneca on
this subject is truly philosophical, and contains
a prediction which has been fully accomplished:
“ Why do we wonder that comets, which are
so rare a spectacle in the world, observe laws
which to us are yet unknown, and that the be¬
ginning and end of motions, so seldom observed,
are not yet fully understood ?”—Veniet tempus,
quo ista quce nunc latent^ in lucem dies extrahat, et
longioris cevi diligentia: ad inquisitionem tantorum
cetas una non sufficit. Veniet tempus, quo posteri
nostri tarn aperta nos nescisse mirentur.1
It was, however, often the fate of such truths
to give way to error. The comets, which these
ancient philosophers had ranked so justly with
the stars, were degraded by Aristotle into me¬
teors floating in the earth’s atmosphere; and
this was the opinion concerning them which ul¬
timately prevailed.
But, notwithstanding the above, and a few
other splendid conceptions which shine through
the obscurity of the ancient Physics, the system,
taken on the whole, was full of error and in¬
consistency. Truth and falsehood met almost
on terms of equality; the former, separated from
its root, experience, found no preference above
the latter; to the latter, in fact, it was gene¬
rally forced to give way, and the dominion of
error was finally established.
One ought to listen, therefore, with caution
to the encomiums sometimes bestowed on the
philosophy of those early ages. If these enco¬
miums respected only the talents, the genius,
the taste of the great masters of antiquity, we
would subscribe to them without any apprehen-
1 Nat. Qucest. lib. vii. cap. xxv.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
sion of going beyond the truth. But if they ex¬
tend to the methods of philosophizing, and the
discoveries actually made, we must be excused
for entering our dissent, and exchanging the
language of panegyric for that of apology. The
infancy of science could not be the time when
its attainments were the highest; and before
we suffer ourselves to be guided by the vene¬
ration of antiquity, we ought to consider in what
real antiquity consists. With regard to the pro¬
gress of knowledge and improvement, “ we are
more ancient than those who went before us.”1
The human race has now more experience than
in the generations that are past, and of course
may be expected to have made higher attain¬
ments in science and philosophy. Compared
with Natural Philosophy, as it now exists, the
ancient Physics are rude and imperfect. The
speculations contained in them are vague and
unsatisfactory, and of little value, but as they
elucidate the history of the errors and illusions
to which the human mind is subject. Science
was not merely stationary, but often retrograde;
the earliest opinions were frequently the best;
2. NOVUM
The defects which have been ascribed to the
ancient Physics were not likely to be correct¬
ed in the course of the middle ages. It is
true, that during those ages a science of pure
experiment had made its appearance in the
world, and might have been expected to remedy
the greatest of these defects, by turning the at¬
tention of philosophers to experience and obser¬
vation. This effect, however, was far from be¬
ing immediately produced; and none who pro¬
fessed to be in search of truth ever wandered
over the regions of fancy, in paths more devious
and eccentric, than the first experimenters in
Chemistry. They had become acquainted with a
series of facts so unlike to any thing already
known, that the ordinary principles of belief
were shaken or subverted, and the mind laid
open to a degree of credulity far beyond any
with which the philosophers of antiquity could
be reproached. An unlooked-for extension of
and the reasonings of Democritus and Anaxa¬
goras were in many instances more solid than
those of Plato and Aristotle. Extreme credu¬
lity disgraced the speculations of men who,
however ingenious, were little acquainted with
the laws of nature, and unprovided with the
great criterion by which the evidence of testi¬
mony can alone be examined. Though obser¬
vations were sometimes made, experiments were
never instituted; and philosophers who were
little attentive to the facts which spontaneously
offered, did not seek to increase their number
by artificial combinations. Experience, in those
ages, was a light which darted a few tremulous
and uncertain rays on some small portions of
the field of science; but men had not acquired
the power over that light which now enables
them to concentrate its beams, and to fix them
steadily on whatever object they wish to ex¬
amine. This power is what distinguishes the
modern Physics, and is the cause why later phi¬
losophers, without being more ingenious than
their predecessors, have been infinitely more
successful in the study of nature.
OItGANUM.
human power had taken place ; its limits were
yet unknown; and the boundary between the
possible and the impossible was no longer to be
distinguished. The adventurers in an unexplor¬
ed country, given up to the guidance of imagi¬
nation, pursued objects which the kindness, no
less than the wisdom of nature, has rendered
unattainable by man ; and in their speculations
peopled the air, the earth, and all the elements,
with spirits and genii, the invisible agents des¬
tined to connect together all the facts which
they knew, and all those which they hoped to
discover. Chemistry, in this state, might be
said to have an elective attraction for alx that
was most absurd and extravagant in the other
parts of knowledge ; alchemy was its immediate
offspring, and it allied itself in succession with
the dreams of the Cabalists, the Rosicrucians,
and the Theosophers. Thus a science, founded
in experiment, and destined one day to afford
J Bacon.
454
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
such noble examples of its use, exhibited for se¬
veral ages little else than a series of illusory-
pursuits, or visionary speculations, while now
and then a fact was accidentally discovered.
Under the influence of these circumstances
arose Paracelsus, Van Helmont, Fludd, Cardan,
and several others, conspicuous no less for the
weakness than the force of their understand¬
ings ; men who united extreme credulity, the
most extravagant pretensions, and the most ex¬
cessive vanity, with considerable powers of in¬
vention, a complete contempt for authority, and
a desire to consult experience; but destitute of
the judgment, patience, and comprehensive views,
without which the responses of that oracle are
never to be understood. Though they appealed
to experience, and disclaimed subjection to the
old legislators of science, they were in too great
haste to become legislators themselves, and to
deduce an explanation of the whole phenomena
of nature from a few facts, observed without ac¬
curacy, arranged without skill, and never com¬
pared or confronted with one another. For¬
tunately, however, from the turn which their
inquiries had taken, the ill done by them has
passed away, and the good has become perma¬
nent. The reveries of Paracelsus have disap¬
peared, but his application of Chemistry to Phar¬
macy has conferred a lasting benefit on the
world. The Archceus of Van Helmont, and the
army of spiritual agents with which the disco¬
very of elastic fluids had filled the imagination
of that celebrated empiric, are laughed at, or
forgotten; but the fluids which he had the sa¬
gacity to distinguish, form, at the present mo¬
ment, the connecting principles of the new Che¬
mistry.
Earlier than any of the authors just named,
but in a great measure under the influence of
the same delusions, Roger Bacon appears to
have been more fully aware than any of them of
the use of experiment, and of mathematical rea¬
soning, in physical and mechanical inquiries.
But, in the thirteenth century, an appeal from
the authority of the schools, even to nature her¬
self, could not be made with impunity. Bacon,
accordingly, incurred the displeasure both of
the University and of the Church; and this forms
one of his claims to the respect of posterity, as
it is but fair to consider persecution inflicted by
the ignorant and bigoted as equivalent to praise
bestowed by the liberal and enlightened.
Much more recently, Gilbert, in his treatise
on the Magnet, had given an example of an ex¬
perimental inquiry, carried on with more cor¬
rectness, and more enlarged views, than had
been done by any of his predecessors. Never¬
theless, in the end of the sixteenth century, it
might still be affirmed, that the situation of the
great avenue to knowledge was fully understood
by none, and that its existence, to the bulk of
philosophers, was utterly unknown.
It was about this time that Francis Bacon
(Lord Verulam) began to turn his powerful and
creative mind to contemplate the state of human
knowledge, to mark its imperfections, and to
plan its improvement. One of the considera¬
tions which appears to have impressed his mind
most forcibly, was the vagueness and uncertain¬
ty of all the physical speculations then existing,
and the entire want of connection between the
sciences and the arts.
Though these two things are in their nature
so closely united, that the same truth which is a
principle in science becomes a rule in art, yet
there was at that time hardly any practical im¬
provement which had arisen from a theoretical
discovery. The natural alliance between the
knowledge and the power of man seemed entire¬
ly interrupted; nothing was to be seen of the
mutual support which they ought to afford to one
another; the improvement of art was left to the
slow and precarious operation of chance, and
that of science to the collision of opposite opin¬
ions.
C{ But whence,” said Bacon, <c can arise such
vagueness and sterility in all the physical systems
which have hitherto existed in the world ? It is
not certainly from any thing in nature itself;
for the steadiness and regularity of the laws by
which it is governed, clearly mark them out as
objects of certain and precise knowledge. Nei¬
ther can it arise from any want of ability in
those who have pursued such inquiries, many of
whom have been men of the highest talent and
genius of the ages in which they lived; and it
can, therefore, arise from nothing else but the
perverseness and insufficiency of the methods
DISSERTATION THIRD.
455
that have been pursued. Men have sought to
make a world from their own conceptions, and
to di'aw from their own minds all the materials
which they employed; but if, instead of doing
so, they had consulted experience and observa¬
tion, they would have had facts, and not opinions,
to reason about, and might have ultimately arriv¬
ed at the knowledge of the laws which govern
the material world.”
“ As things are at present conducted,” he
adds, “ a sudden transition is made from sensible
objects and particular facts to general proposi¬
tions, which are accounted principles, and round
which, as round so many fixed poles, disputation
and argument continually revolve. From the
propositions thus hastily assumed, all things are
derived, by a process compendious and precipi¬
tate, ill suited to discovery, but wonderfully ac¬
commodated to debate. The way that promises
success is the reverse of this. It requires that
we should generalize slowly, going from particu¬
lar things to those that are but one step more
general; from those to others of still greater ex¬
tent, and so on to such as are universal. By
such means, we may hope to arrive at principles,
not vague and obscure, but luminous and well
defined, such as nature herself will not refuse
to acknowledge.”
Before laying down the rules to be observed
in this inductive process, Bacon proceeds to
enumerate the causes of error,—the Idols, as he
terms them, in his figurative language, or false
divinities, to which the mind had so long been
accustomed to bow. He considered this enume¬
ration as the more necessary, that the same idols
were likely to return, even after the reformation
of science, and to avail themselves of the real
discoveries that might have been made, for giv¬
ing a colour to their deceptions.
These idols he divides into four classes, to
which he gives names, fantastical, no doubt,
but, at the same time, abundantly significant:
Idola Tribus, Idols of the Tribe ;
 Specus,  of the Ben;
 Fori,  of the Forum ;
 Theatri,  of the Theatre.
1. The Idols of the Tribe, or of the race, are the
causes of error founded on human nature in ge¬
neral, or on principles common to all mankind.
“ The mind,” he observes, “ is not like a plain
mirror, which reflects the images of things ex¬
actly as they are; it is like a mirror of an uneven
surface, which combines its own figure with the
figures of the object it represents.”1
Among the idols of this class, we may reckon
the propensity which there is in all men to find
in nature a greater degree of order, simplicity,
and regularity, than is actually indicated by ob¬
servation. Thus, as soon as men perceived the
orbits of the planets to return into themselves,
they immediately supposed them to be perfect
circles, and the motion in those circles to be uni¬
form ; and to these hypotheses, so rashly and
gratuitously assumed, the astronomers and ma¬
thematicians of all antiquity laboured incessantly
to reconcile their observations.
The propensity which Bacon has here charac¬
terized so well, is the same that has been, since
his time, known by the name of the spirit of sys¬
tem. The prediction, that the sources of error
would return, and were likely to infest science
in its most flourishing condition, has been fully
verified with respect to this illusion, and in the
case of sciences which had no existence at the
time when Bacon wrote. When it was ascer¬
tained, by observation, that a considerable part
of the earth’s surface consists of minerals, dis¬
posed in horizontal strata, it was immediately
concluded, that the whole exterior crust of the
earth is composed, or has been composed, of
such strata, continued all round without inter¬
ruption ; and on this, as on a certain and gene¬
ral fact, entire theories of the earth have been
constructed.
There is no greater enemy which science has
to struggle with than this propensity of the
mind; and it is a struggle from which science is
never likely to be entirely relieved; because,
unfortunately, the illusion is founded on the
same principle from which our love of know¬
ledge takes its rise.
2. The Idols of the Den are those that spring
1 Novum Organum, lib. i. aph. 41.
456
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
from the peculiar character of the individual.
Besides the causes of error which are common
to all mankind, each individual, according to
Bacon, has his own dark cavern or den, into
which the light is imperfectly admitted, and in
the obscurity of which a tutelary idol lurks, at
whose shrine the truth is often sacrificed.
One great and radical distinction in the capa¬
cities of men is derived from this, that some
minds are best adapted to mark the differences,
others to catch the resemblances, of things.
Steady and profound understandings are dis¬
posed to attend carefully, to proceed slowly,
and to examine the most minute differences;
while those that are sublime and active are
ready to lay hold of the slightest resemblances.
Each of these easily runs into excess; the one
by catching continually at distinctions, the other
at affinities.
The studies, also, to which a man is addicted,
have a great effect in influencing his opinions.
Bacon complains, that the chemists of his time,
from a few experiments with the furnace and
the crucible, thought that they were furnished
with principles sufficient to explain the struc¬
ture of the universe; and he censures Aristotle
for having depraved his Physics so much with
his Dialectics, as to render the former entirely a
science of words and controversy. In like man¬
ner, he blames a philosopher of his own age,
Gilbert, who had studied magnetism to good
purpose, for having proceeded to form out of it
a general system of philosophy. Such things
have occurred in every period of science. Thus,
electricity has been applied to explain the mo¬
tion of the heavenly bodies; and, of late, galva¬
nism and electricity together have been held out
as explaining not only the affinities of Chemistry,
but the phenomena of gravitation, and the laws
of vegetable and animal life. It were a good,
caution for a man who studies nature, to distrust
those things with which he is particularly con¬
versant, and which he is accustomed to contem¬
plate with pleasure.
3. The Idols of the Forum are those that arise
out of the commerce or intercourse of society,
and especially from language, or the means by
which men communicate their thoughts to one
another.
Men believe that their thoughts govern their
words; but it also happens, by a certain kind
of reaction, that their words frequently govern
their thoughts. This is the more pernicious,
that words, being generally the work of the
multitude, divide things according to the lines
most conspicuous to vulgar apprehensions.
Hence, when words are examined, few instances
are found in which, if at all abstract, they con¬
vey ideas tolerably precise and well defined.
For such imperfections there seems to be no re¬
medy, but by having recourse to particular in¬
stances, and diligently comparing the meanings
of words with the external archetypes from
which they are derived.
4. The Idols of the Theatre are the last, and are
the deceptions which have taken their rise from
the systems or dogmas of the different schools
of philosophy. In the opinion of Bacon, as
many of these systems as had been invented, so
many representations of imaginary worlds had
been brought upon the stage. Hence the name
of idola theatri. They do not enter the mind
imperceptibly, like the other three; a man must
labour to acquire them, and they are often the
result of great learning and study.
“ Philosophy,” said he, “ as hitherto pursued,
has taken much from a few things, or a little
from a great many 5 and, in both cases, has too
narrow a basis to be of much duration or uti¬
lity.” The Aristotelian philosophy is of the latter
kind; it has taken its principles from common
experience, but without due attention to the
evidence or the precise nature of the facts; the
philosopher is left to work out the rest from his
own invention. Of this kind, called by Bacon
the sophistical, were almost all the physical sys¬
tems of antiquity.
When philosophy takes all its principles from
a few facts, he calls it empirical,—such as was
that of Gilbert, and of the chemists.
It should be observed, that Bacon does not
charge the Physics of antiquity with being ab¬
solutely regardless of experiment. No system,
indeed, however fantastical, has ever existed, to
which that reproach could be applied in its full
extent; because, without some regard to fact,
no theory can ever become in the least degree
plausible. The fault lies not, therefore, in the
DISSERTATION THIRD.
457
absolute rejection of experience, but in the un¬
skilful use of it; in taking up principles lightly
from an inaccurate and careless observation of
many things ; or, if the observations have been
more accurate, from those made on a few facts,
unwarrantably generalized.
Bacon proceeds to point out the circumstances,
in the history of the world, which had hitherto
favoured these perverse modes of philosophizing.
He observes, that the periods during which sci¬
ence had been cultivated were not many, nor of
long duration. They might be reduced to three,*
the first with the Greeks; the second with the
Romans; and the third with the western na¬
tions, after the revival of letters. In none of
all these periods had much attention been paid
to Natural Philosophy, the great parent of the
sciences.
With the Greeks, the time was very short
during which physical science flourished in any
degree. The seven Sages, with the exception
of Thales, applied themselves entirely to morals
and politics; and in later times, after Socrates
had brought down philosophy from the heavens
to the earth, the study of nature was generally
abandoned. In the Roman republic, the know¬
ledge most cultivated, as might be expected
among a martial and ambitious people, was
such as had a direct reference to war and poli¬
tics. During the empire, the introduction and
establishment of the Christian religion drew the
attention of men to theological studies, and the
important interests which were then at stake
left but a small share of talent and ability to be
occupied in inferior pursuits. The vast hie¬
rarchy which assumed the command both of
the sword and the sceptre, while it occupied
and enslaved the minds of men, looked with
suspicion on sciences which could not easily be
subjected to its control.
At the time, therefore, when Bacon wrote, it
might truly be said, that a small portion even
of the learned ages, and of the abilities of learned
men, had been dedicated to the study of Natural
Philosophy. This served, in his opinion, to ac¬
count for the imperfect state in which he found
human knowledge in general; for he thought it
certain, that no part of knowledge could attain
much excellence without having its foundation
laid in physical science.
He goes on to observe, that the end and ob¬
ject of knowledge had been very generally mis¬
taken ; that many, instead of seeking through
it to improve the condition of human life, by
new inventions and new resources, had aimed
only at popular applause, and had satisfied them¬
selves with the knowledge of words more than
of things; while others, who were exceptions
to this rule, had gone still farther wrong, by di¬
recting their pursuits to objects imaginary and
unattainable. The alchemists, for example, al¬
ternately the dupes of their own credulity and
of their own imposture, had amazed and tor¬
mented the world with hopes which were never
to be realized. Others, if possible more vision¬
ary, had promised to prolong life, to extinguish
disease and infirmity, and to give man a com¬
mand over the world of spirits, by means of
mystic incantations. “ All this,” says he, “ is
the mere boasting of ignorance; for, when the
knowledge of nature shall be rightly pursued, it
will lead to discoveries that will as far excel the
pretended powers of magic, as the real exploits
of Caesar and Alexander exceed the fabulous
adventures of Arthur of Britain, or Amadis of
Gaul.”1
Again, the reverence for antiquity, and the
authority of great names, have contributed much
to retard the progress of science. Indeed, the
notion of antiquity which men have taken up
seems to be erroneous and inconsistent. It is
the duration of the world, or of the human race,
as reckoned from the extremity that is past, and
not from the point of time which is present, that
constitutes the true antiquity to which the ad¬
vancement of science may be conceived to bear
some proportion; and just as we expect more
wisdom and experience in an old than in a
young man, we may expect more knowledge of
nature from the present than from any of the
ages that are past.
“ It is not to be esteemed a small matter
in this estimate, that, by the voyages and travels
of these later times, so much more of nature has
3 M
DISS. III. PART I.
1 Novum Organum, lib. i. aph. 87-
458
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
been discovered than was known at any former
period. It would, indeed, be disgraceful to
mankind, if, after such tracts of tbe material
world have been laid open, which were unknown
in former times,—so many seas traversed, so
many countries explored,—so many stars dis¬
covered,—philosophy, or the intelligible world,
should be circumscribed by the same boundaries
as before.”
Another cause has greatly obstructed the pro¬
gress of philosophy, viz. that men inquire only
into the causes of rare, extraordinary, and great
phenomena, without troubling themselves about
the explanation of such as are common, and
make a part of the general course of nature.1
It is, however, certain, that no judgment can be
formed concerning the extraordinary and singu¬
lar phenomena of nature, without comparing
them with those that are ordinary and frequent.
The laws which are every day in action, are
those which it is most important for us to un¬
derstand; and this is well illustrated by what
has happened in the scientific world since the
time when Bacon wrote. The simple hilling of
a stone to the ground has been found to involve
principles which are the basis of all we know in
mechanical philosophy. Without accurate ex¬
periments on the descent of bodies at the sur¬
face of the earth, the objections against the
earth’s motion could not have been answered,
the inertia of body would have remained un¬
known, and the nature of the force which re¬
tains the planets in their orbits could never
have been investigated. Nothing, therefore,
can be more out of its place than the fastidious¬
ness of those philosophers who suppose things
to be unworthy of study, because, with respect
to ordinary life, they are trivial and unimpor¬
tant. It is an error of the same sort which
leads men to consider experiment, and the ac¬
tual application of the hands, as unworthy of
them, and unbecoming the dignity of science.
“ There arc some,” says Bacon, <£ who, delight¬
ing in mere contemplation, are offended with
our frequent reference to experiments and ope¬
rations to be performed by the hand, things
which appear to them mean and mechanical;
but these men do in fact oppose the attainment
of the object they profess to pursue, since the
exercise of contemplation, and the construction
and invention of experiments, are supported on
the same principles, and perfected by the same
means.”2
After these preliminary discussions, the great
restorer of philosophy proceeds, in the second
book of the Novum Organum, to describe and
exemplify the nature of the Induction, which he
deems essential to the right interpretation of
nature.
The first object must be to prepare a history
of the phenomena to be explained, in all their
modifications and varieties. This history is to
comprehend not only all such facts as sponta¬
neously offer themselves, but all the experiments
instituted for the sake of discovery, or for any
of the purposes of the useful arts. It ought
to be composed with great care; the facts accu¬
rately related, and distinctly arranged; their
authenticity diligently examined; those that rest
on doubtful evidence, though not rejected, being
noted as uncertain, with the grounds of the
judgment so formed. This last is very neces¬
sary ; for facts often appear incredible, only be¬
cause we are ill informed, and cease to appear
marvellous, when our knowledge is farther ex¬
tended.
All such facts, however, as appear contrary
to the ordinary course of our experience, though
thus noted down and preserved, must have no
weight allowed them in the first steps of inves¬
tigation, and are to be used only when the ge¬
neral principle, as it emerges from the inductive
process, serves to increase their probability.
This record of facts is what Bacon calls Natu¬
ral History; and it is material to take notice of
the comprehensive sense in which that term is
understood through all his writings. Accord¬
ing to the arrangement of the sciences, which
he has explained in his treatise on the Advance¬
ment of Knowledge, all learning is classed rela¬
tively to the three intellectual faculties of Me¬
mory, Reason, and Imagination. Under the
1 Novum Organum, lib. i. aph. 119.
luipctus Philosophies: Opera, p. 681, Franc, ad Mcen. 1665, folio-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
459
first of these divisions is contained all that is
merely Narration, or History, of whatever kind
it may be. Under the second are contained the
different sciences, whether they respect the In¬
tellectual or the Material world. Under the
third are comprehended Poetry and the Fine
Arts. It is with the first of these classes only
that we are at present concerned. The first two
divisions of it are Sacred and Civil History, the
meaning of which is sufficiently understood.
The third division is Natural History, which
comprehends the description of the facts rela¬
tive to inanimate matter, and to all animals, ex¬
cept man. Natural History is again subdivided
into three parts: 1. The history of the pheno¬
mena of nature, which are uniform; 2. Of the
facts which are anomalous or extraordinary;
3. Of the processes in the different arts.
We are not to wonder at finding the processes
of the arts thus enrolled among the materials of
Natural History. The powers which act in the
processes of nature and in those of art are pre¬
cisely the same, and are only directed, in the
latter case, by the intention of man, toward par¬
ticular objects. In art, as Bacon elsewhere ob¬
serves, man does nothing more than bring things
nearer to one another, or carry them farther
off; the rest is performed by nature, and, on
most occasions, by means of which we are quite
ignorant.
Thus, when a man fires a pistol, he does no¬
thing but make a piece of flint approach a plate
of hardened steel, with a certain velocity. It is
nature that does the rest;—that makes the small
red-hot and fluid globules of steel, which the flint
had struck off, communicate their fire to the
gunpowder, and, by a process but little under¬
stood, set loose the elastic fluid contained in it;
so that an explosion is produced, and the ball
propelled with astonishing velocity. It is obvi¬
ous that, in this instance, art only gives certain
powers of nature a particular direction.
To the rules which have been given from
Bacon, for the composition of Natural History, I
may be permitted to add this other,—that theo¬
retical language should, as much as possible, be
avoided. Appearances ought to be described in
terms which involve no opinion with respect to
their causes. These last are the objects of sepa¬
rate examination, and will be best understood
if the facts are given fairly, without any depen¬
dence on what should yet be considered as un¬
known. This rule is very essential where the
facts are in a certain degree complicated; for it
is then much easier to describe with a reference
to theory than without it. It is only from a
skilful physician that you can expect a descrip¬
tion of a disease which is not full of opinions con¬
cerning its cause. A similar observation might
be made with respect to agriculture; and with
respect to no science more than geology.
The natural history of any phenomenon, or
class of phenomena, being thus prepared, the
next object is, by a comparison of the different
facts, to find out the cause of the phenomenon,
its form, in the language of Bacon, or its essence.
The form of any quality in body is something
convertible with that quality; that is, where it
exists, the quality is present, and where the qua¬
lity is present, the form must be so likewise.
Thus, if transparency in bodies be the thing in¬
quired after, the form of it is something in which,
wherever it is found, there is transparency ; and,
vice versa, wherever there is transparency, that
which we have called the form is likewise
present.
The form, then, differs in nothing from the
cause ; only we apply the word cause where it is
event or change that is the effect. When the
effect or result is a permanent quality, we speak
of the form or essence.
Two other objects, subordinate to forms, but
often essential to the knowledge of them, are also
occasionally subjects of investigation. These
are the latent process, and the latent schema¬
tism ; latens processus, et latens schematismus.
The former is the secret and invisible progress
by which sensible changes are brought about,
and seems, in Bacon’s acceptation, to involve the
principle, since called the law of continuity, ac¬
cording to which, no change, however small,
can be effected but in time. To know the rela¬
tion between the time and the change effected in
it, would be to have a perfect knowledge of the
latent process. In the firing of a cannon, for
example, the succession of events during the
short interval between the application of the
match and the expulsion of the ball, constitutes
'I*
460
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
a latent process of a very remarkable and com¬
plicated nature, which, however, we can now
trace with some degree of accuracy. In mecha¬
nical operations, we can often follow this pro¬
cess still more completely. When motion is
communicated from any body to another, it is
distributed through all the parts of that other,
by a law quite beyond the reach of sense to per¬
ceive directly, but yet subject to investigation,
and determined by a principle which, though late
in being discovered, is now generally recognised.
The applications of this mechanical principle are
perhaps the instances in which a latent, and, in¬
deed, a very recondite process, has been most
completely analyzed.
The latent schematism is that invisible struc¬
ture of bodies, on which so many of their proper¬
ties depend. When we inquire into the consti¬
tution of crystals, or into the internal structure
of plants, &c. we are examining into the latent
schematism. We do the same when we attempt
to explain elasticity, magnetism, gravitation, &c.
by any peculiar structure of bodies, or any ar¬
rangement of the particles of matter.1
In order to inquire into the form or cause of
any thing by induction, having brought together
the facts, we are to begin with considering what
things are thereby excluded from the number of
possible forms. This exclusion is the first part
of the process of induction: it confines the field
of hypothesis, and brings the true explanation
within narrower limits. Thus, if we were in¬
quiring into the quality which is the cause of
transparency in bodies; from the fact that the
diamond is transparent,we immediately exclude
rarity or porosity, as well as fluidity, from those
causes, the diamond being a very solid and dense
body.
Negative instances, or those where the given
form is wanting, are also to be collected.
That glass, when pounded, is not transpai*ent,
is a negative fact, and of considerable importance
when the form of transparency is inquired into;
also, that collections of vapour, such as clouds
and fogs, have not transparency, are negative
facts of the same kind. The facts thus collect¬
ed, both affirmative and negative, may, for the
sake of reference, be reduced into tables.
Bacon exemplifies his method on the subject
of Heat; and, though his collection of facts be
imperfect, his method of treating them is ex¬
tremely judicious, and the whole disquisition
highly interesting.2 He here proposes, as an
experiment, to try the reflection of the heat of
opaque bodies.3 He mentions also the vitrum
calendared or thermometer, which was just then
coming into use. His reflections, after finish¬
ing his enumeration of facts, show how sensible
he was of the imperfect state of his own know¬
ledge.4
After a great number of exclusions have left
but a few principles, common to every case,
one of these is to be assumed as the cause; and,
by reasoning from it synthetically, we are to
try if it will account for the phenomena.
So necessary did this exclusive process appear
to Bacon, that he says, “ It may perhaps be
competent to angels, or superior intelligences,
to determine the form or essence directly, by
affirmations from the first consideration of the
subject. But it is certainly beyond the power
of man, to whom it is only given to proceed at
first by negatives, and, in the last place, to end
in an affirmative, after the exclusion of every
thing else.”6
The method of induction, as laid down here,
is to be considered as applicable to all investiga¬
tions where experience is the guide, whether in
the moral or natural world. “ Some may doubt
whether we propose to apply our method of in¬
vestigation to natural philosophy only, or to
other sciences, such as logic, ethics, politics.
We answer, that we mean it to be so applied.
And as the common logic, which proceeds by the
syllogism, belongs not only to natural philoso¬
phy, but to all the sciences, so our logic, which
proceeds by induction, embraces every thing.”6
Though this process had been pursued by a
person of much inferior penetration and sagaci¬
ty to Bacon, he could not but have discovered
that all facts, even supposing them truly and
accurately recorded, are not of equal value in
1 Novum Organum, lib. ii. anh. 5, 6, &c.
a Ibid. aph. 11.
a Ibid. lib. ii. aph. 15.
2 Ibid. aph. 18, 20, &c.
4 Ibid. aph. 14.
‘ Ibid. lib. i. aph. 127.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
461
the discovery of truth. Some of them show the
thing sought for in its highest degree, some in
its lowest; some exhibit it simple and uncom¬
bined, in others it appears confused with a va¬
riety of circumstances. Some facts are easily
interpreted, others are very obscure, and are
understood only in consequence of the light
thrown on them by the former. This led our
author to consider what he calls Prmogativce
Instantiarum, the comparative value of facts as
means of discovery, or as instruments of inves¬
tigation. He enumerates twenty-seven differ¬
ent species, and enters at some length into the
peculiar properties of each. I must content
myself, in this sketch, with describing a few of
the most important, subjoining, as illustrations,
sometimes the examples which the author him¬
self has given, but more frequently such as have
been furnished by later discoveries in science.
I. The first place in this classification is as¬
signed to what are called instantice solitarice,
which are either examples of the same quality
existing in two bodies which have nothing in
common but that quality, or of a quality differ¬
ing in two bodies which are in all other respects
the same. In the first instance, the bodies dif¬
fer in all things but one; in the second, they
agree in all but one. The hypotheses that in
either case can be entertained, concerning the
cause or form of the said quality, are reduced to
a small number; for, in the first, they can in¬
volve none of the things in which the bodies
differ; and, in the second, none of those in
which they agree.
Thus, of the cause ox form of colour now in¬
quired into, instantice solitaries are found in crys¬
tals, prisms of glass, drops of dew, which occa¬
sionally exhibit colour, and yet have nothing in
common with the stones, flowers, and metals,
which possess colour permanently, except the
colour itself. Hence Bacon concludes, that co¬
lour is nothing else than a modification of the
rays of light, produced, in the first case, by the
different degrees of incidence; and, in the se¬
cond, by the texture or constitution of the sur¬
faces of bodies. He may be considered as very
fortunate in fixing on these examples ; for it was
by means of them that Newton afterwards found
out the composition of light.
Of the second kind of instantice solitarice, Ba¬
con mentions the white or coloured veins which
occur in limestone or marble, and yet hardly
differ in substance or in structure from the
ground of the stone. He concludes, very just-
ly, from this, that colour has not much to do
with the essential properties of body.
II. The instantice migrantes exhibit some nature
or property of body, passing from one condition
to another, either from less to greater, or from
greater to less; arriving nearer perfection in the
first case, or verging towards extinction in the
second.
Suppose the thing inquired into were the
cause of whiteness in bodies; an instantia mi-
grans is found in glass, which, when entire, is
without colour, but, when pulverized, becomes
white. The same is the case with water un¬
broken, and water dashed into foam. In both
cases, the separation into particles produces
whiteness. So also the communication of flu¬
idity to metals by the application of heat, and
the destruction of that fluidity by the abstrac¬
tion of heat, are examples of both kinds of the
instantia migrans. Instances of this kind are
very powerful for reducing the cause inquired
after into a narrow space, and for removing
all the accidental circumstances. It is neces¬
sary, however, as Bacon very justly remarks,1
that we should consider not merely the case
when a certain quality is lost, and another pro¬
duced, but the gradual changes made in those
qualities during their migration, viz. the in¬
crease of the one, and the corresponding diminu¬
tion of the other. The quantity which changes
proportionally to another, is connected with it
either as cause and effect, or as a collateral ef¬
fect of the same cause. When, again, we find
two qualities which do not increase proportion¬
ally, they afford a negative instance, and assure
us that the two are not connected simply as
cause and effect.
The mineral kingdom is the great theatre of
the instantice migrantes, where the same nature is
seen in all gradations, from the most perfect
Novum Organum. lib. ii. aph. 23.
462
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
state, till it become entirely evanescent. Such
are the shells which we see so perfect in figure
and structure in limestone, and gradually losing
themselves in the finer marbles, till they can no
longer he distinguished. The use, also, of one
such fact to explain or interpret another, is no¬
where so well seen as in the history of the mi¬
neral kingdom.
III. In the third place are the instantice osten-
sivcB, which Bacon also calls elucescentice and
vroedominantes. They are the facts which show
some particular nature in its highest state of
power and energy, when it is either freed from the
impediments which usually counteract it, or is
itself of such force as entirely to repress those
impediments. For as every body is susceptible
of many different conditions, and has many dif¬
ferent forms combined in it, one of them often
confines, depresses, and hides another entirely,
so that it is not easily distinguished. There
are found, however, some subjects in which the
nature inquired into is completely displayed,
either by the absence of impediments, or by the
predominance of its own power.
Bacon instances the thermometer, or vitrum
calendared as exhibiting the expansive power of
heat, in a manner more distinct and measurable
than in common cases. To this example, which
is well chosen, the present state of science en¬
ables us to add many others.
If the weight of the air were inquired into,
the Torricellian experiment, or the barometer,
affords an ostensive instanced where the circum¬
stance which conceals the weight of the atmo¬
sphere in common cases, namely, the pressure of
it in all directions, being entirely removed, that
weight produces its full effect, and sustains the
whole column of mercury in the tube. The ba¬
rometer affords also an example of the instantia
migrans, when the change is not total, but only
partial or progressive. If it be the weight of
the air which supports the mercury in the tube
of the barometer, when that weight is diminish¬
ed, the mercury ought to stand lower. On go¬
ing to the top of a mountain, the weight of the
incumbent air is diminished, because a shorter
column of air is to be sustained; the mercury
in the barometer ought therefore to sink, and it
is found to do so accordingly.
These are instances in which the action of
certain principles is rendered visible by the re¬
moval of all the opposing forces. One may be
given where it is the distinct and decisive nature
of the fact which leads to the result.
Suppose it were inquired, whether the present
land had ever been covered by the sea. If we
look at the stratified form of so large a portion
of the earth’s surface, we cannot but conclude
it to be Arery probable that such land was form¬
ed at the bottom of the sea. But the decisive
proof is afforded by the shells and corals, or bo¬
dies having the perfect shape of shells and co¬
rals, and of other marine exuviae, which are
found imbedded in masses of the most solid
rock, and often on the tops of very high moun¬
tains. This leaves no doubt of the formation of
the land under the sea, though it does not de¬
termine whether the land, since its formation,
has been elevated to its present height, or the
sea depressed to its present level. The decision
of that question requires other facts to be con¬
sulted.
IV. The instantia clandestinUd which is, as it
were, opposed to the preceding, and shows some
power or quality just as it is beginning to exist,
and in its weakest state, is often very useful in
the generalization of facts. Bacon also gave to
this the fanciful name of instantia crepuscvli.
An example of this may be given from hy¬
drostatics. If the suspension of water in ca¬
pillary tubes be inquired into, it becomes very
useful to view that effect when it is least, or
when the tube ceases to be capillary, and be¬
comes a vessel of a large diameter. The column
is then reduced to a slender ring of water, which
goes all round the vessel; and this, though now
so inconsiderable, bas the property of being in¬
dependent of the size of the vessel, so as to be
in all cases the same when the materials are the
same. As there can be no doubt that this ring
proceeds from the attraction of the sides, and of
the part immediately above the water, so there
can be no doubt that the capillary suspension,
in part at least, is derived from the same cause.
An effect of the opposite kind takes place when
a glass vessel is filled with mercury.
V. Next to these may be placed what are call¬
ed instantice manipidareSd or collective instances,
DISSERTATION THIRD.
463
that is, general facts, or such as comprehend a
great number of particular cases. As human
knowledge can but seldom reach the most gene¬
ral cause or form, such collective instances are
often the utmost extent to which our generali¬
zation can be carried. They have great value
on this account, as they likewise have on ac¬
count of the assistance which they give to fur¬
ther generalization.
Of this we have a remarkable instance in one
of the most important steps ever taken in any
part of human knowledge. The laws of Kepler
are facts of the kind now treated of, and consist
of three general truths, each belonging to the
whole planetary system; and it was by means
of them that Newton discovered the principle of
gravitation. The first is, that the planets all
move in elliptical orbits, having the sun for their
common focus ; the next, that about this focus
the radius vector of each planet describes equal
areas in equal times; the third and last, that
the squares of the periodic times of the planets
are as the cubes of their mean distances from
the sun. The knowledge of each of these was
the result of much research, and of the compa¬
rison of a vast multitude of observations, inso¬
much that it may be doubted if ever three truths
in science were discovered at the expense of so
much labour and patience, or with the exertion
of more ingenuity and invention in imagining
and combining observations. These discoveries
were all made before Bacon wrote, but he is
silent concerning them ; for the want of mathe¬
matical knowledge concealed from his view some
of the most splendid and interesting parts of
science.
Astronomy is full of such collective instances,
and affords them, indeed, of the second and
third order, that is to say, two or three times
generalized. The astronomer observes nothing
but that a certain luminous disk, or perhaps
merely a luminous point, is in a certain position,
in respect of the planes of the meridian and the
horizon, at a certain moment of time. By com¬
paring a number of such observations, he finds
that this luminous point moves in a certain plane,
with a certain velocity, and performs a revolu¬
tion in a certain time. Thus, the periodic time
of a planet is itself a collective fact, or a single
fact expressing the result of many hundred ob¬
servations. This holds with respect to each
planet, and with respect to each element, as it is
called, of the planet’s orbit, every one of which
is a general fact, expressing the result of an in¬
definite number of particulars. This holds still
more remarkably of the inferences which extend
to the distances of the planet from the earth, or
from the sun. The laws of Kepler are therefore
collective facts of the second, or even a higher
order ; or such as comprehend a great number of
general facts, each of which is itself a general
fact, including many particulars. It is much to
the credit of astronomy, that, in all this process,
no degree of truth or certainty is sacrificed; and
that the same demonstrative evidence is preserv¬
ed from the lowest to the highest point. No¬
thing but the use of mathematical reasoning
could secure this advantage to any of the sciences.
VI. In the next place may be ranked the in¬
stances which Bacon calls analogous, or parallel.
These consist of facts, between which an ana¬
logy or resemblance is visible in some particu¬
lars, notwithstanding great diversity in all the
rest. Such are the telescope and microscope, in
the works of art, compared with the eye in the
works of nature. This, indeed, is an analogy
which goes much beyond the mere exterior; it
extends to the internal structure, and to the
principle of action, which is the same in the eye
and in the telescope,—to the latent schematism,
in the language of Bacon, as far as material
substance is concerned. It was the experiment
of the camera ohscura which led to the discovery
of the formation of the images of external ob¬
jects in the bottom of the eye by the action of
the crystalline lens, and the other humours of
which the eye is formed.
Among the instances of conformity, those are
the most useful which enable us to compare pro¬
ductions of an unknown formation, with similar
productions of which the formation is well under¬
stood. Such are basalt, and the other trap rocks,
compared with the lava thrown out from volca¬
noes. They have a structure so exactly similar,
that it is hardly possible to doubt that their ori¬
gin is the same, and that they are both produced
by the action of subterraneous fire. There are,
however, amid their similarity, some very re-
464
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
markable differences in the substances which
they contain, the trap rocks containing calcare¬
ous spar, and the lava never containing any.
On the supposition that they are both of igneous
origin, is there any circumstance, in the condi¬
tions in which heat may have been applied to
them, which can account for this difference ?
Sir James Hall, in a train of most philosophical
and happily-contrived experiments, has explain¬
ed the nature of those conditions, and has shown
that the presence of calcareous spar, or the want
of it, may arise from the greater or less com¬
pression under which the fusion of the basalt
was performed. This has served to explain a
great difficulty in the history of the mineral
kingdom.
Comparative anatomy is full of analogies of
this kind, which are most instructive, and use¬
ful guides to discovery. It was by remarking
in the blood-vessels a contrivance similar to the
valves used in hydraulic engines, for preventing
the counter-current of a fluid, that Harvey was
led to the discovery of the circulation of the
blood. The analogies between natural and arti¬
ficial productions are always highly deserving of
notice.
The facts of this class, however, unless the
analogy he very close, are apt to mislead, by re¬
presenting accidental regularity as it it were
constant. Of this we have an example in the
supposed analogy between the colours in the
prismatic spectrum and the divisions of the mo¬
nochord. The colours in the prismatic spectrum
do not occupy the same proportion of it in all
cases; the analogy depends on the particular kind
of glass, not on any thing that is common to all
refraction. The tendency of man to find more
order in things than there actually exists, is here
to he cautiously watched over.
VII. Monodic, or singular facts, are the next in
order. They comprehend the instances which are
particularly distinguished from all those of the
genus or species to which they belong. Such is
the sun among the stars, the magnet among stones,
mercury among metals, boiling fountains among
springs, the elephant among quadrupeds. So
also among the planets, Saturn is singular from
his ring; the new planets are so likewise from their
small size, from being extrazodiacal, &c.
Connected with these are the irregular and
deviating instances, in which nature seems to
depart from her ordinary course. Earthquakes,
extraordinary tempests, years of great scarcity,
winters of singular severity, &c. are of this num¬
ber. All such facts ought to be carefully col¬
lected ; and there should be added an account of
all monstrous productions, and of every thing re¬
markable for its novelty and its rareness. Here,
however, the most severe ci’iticism must be ap¬
plied ; every thing connected with superstition is
suspicious, as well as whatever relates to alche¬
my or magic.
A set of facts, which belongs to this class,
consists of the instances in which stones have so
often of late years been observed to fall from the
heavens. Those stones are so unlike other at¬
mospherical productions, and their origin must
be so different from that of other minerals, that
it is scarcely possible to imagine any thing more
anomalous, and more inconsistent with the ordi¬
nary course of our experience. Yet the exist¬
ence of this phenomenon is so well authenticat¬
ed by testimony, and by the evidence arising
from certain physical considerations, that no
doubt with respect to it can be entertained, and
it must therefore be received, as making a part
of the natural history of meteors. But as every
fact, or class of facts, which is perfectly singu¬
lar, must be incapable of explanation, and can
only be understood when its resemblance to
other things has been discovered; so at present
we are unable to assign the cause of these pheno¬
mena, and have no right to offer any theory of
their origin.
VIII. Another class of facts is composed of
what Bacon calls instantice comitatus, or examples
of certain qualities which always accompany one
another. Such are flame and heat,—flame being
always accompanied by heat, and the same de¬
gree of heat in a given substance being always
accompanied with flame. So also heat and ex¬
pansion,—an increase of heat being accompanied
with an increase of volume, except in a very
few cases, and in circumstances very particular.
The most perfect instantia comitatus known,
as being without any negative, is that of body
and weight. Whatever is impenetrable and
inert, is also heavy in a degree proportional to
DISSERTATION THIRD.
465
its inertia. To this there is no exception, though
we do not perceive the connection as necessary.
Hostile instances, or those of perpetual sepa¬
ration, are the reverse of the former.
Examples of this are found in air, and the
other elastic fluids, which cannot have a solid
form induced on them by any known means,
when not combined with other substances. So
also in solids, transparency and malleability are
never joined, and appear to be incompatible,
though it is not obvious for what reason.
IX. Passing over several classes which seem
of inferior importance, we come to the instantia
crucis, the division of this experimental logic
which is most frequently resorted to in the
practice of inductive investigation. When, in
such an investigation, the understanding is
placed in equilibria^ as it were, between two or
more causes, each of which accounts equally
well for the appearances, as far as they are
known, nothing remains to be done but to look
out for a fact which can be explained by the
one of these causes, and not by the other : if
such a one can be found, the uncertainty is re¬
moved, and the true cause is determined. Such
facts perform the office of a cross, erected at
the separation of two roads, to direct the tra¬
veller which he is to take ; and, on this account,
Bacon gave them the name of instantice crucis.
Suppose that the subject inquired into were
the motion of the planets, and that the pheno¬
mena which first present themselves, or the
motion of these bodies in longitude, could be ex¬
plained equally on the Ptolemaic and the Coper-
nican system, that is, either on the system which
makes the earth, or that which makes the sun,
the centre of the planetary motions; a cautious
philosopher would hesitate about which ot the
two he should adopt, and notwithstanding that
one of them was recommended by its superior
simplicity, he might not think himself autho¬
rized to give to it a decided preference above
the other. If, however, he consider the motion
of these bodies in latitude, that is to say, their
digressions from the plane of the ecliptic, he
will find a set of phenomena which cannot be
reconciled with the supposition that the earth
is the centre of the planetary motions, but which
receive the most simple and satisfactory expla-
D1SS. III. PART I.
nation from supposing that the sun is at rest,
and is the centre of those motions. The latter
phenomena would therefore serve as instantice
crucis, by which the superior credibility of the
Copernican system was fully evinced.
Another example which I shall give of an
instantia crucis is taken from Chemistry, and is,
indeed, one of the most remarkable experiments
which has been made in that science.
It is a general fact observed in Chemistry, that
metals are always rendered heavier by calcina¬
tion. When a mass of tin or lead, for instance,
is calcined in the fire, though every precaution
is taken to prevent any addition from the adhe¬
sion of ashes, coals, &c. the absolute weight of
the mass is always found to be increased. It
was long before the cause of this phenomenon
was understood. There might be some heavy
substance added, though what it was could not
easily be imagined; or some substance might
have escaped, which was in its nature light,
and possessed a tendency upwards. Other phe¬
nomena, into the nature of which it is at pre¬
sent unnecessary to inquire, induced chemists
to suppose, that in calcination a certain sub¬
stance actually escapes, being present in the
regulus, but not in the calx of the metal. This
substance, to which they gave the name of
phlogiston, was probably that which, by its
escape, rendered the metal heavier, and must,
therefore, be itself endued with absolute levity.
The instantia crucis which extricated philoso¬
phers from this difficulty, was furnished by an
experiment of the celebrated Lavoisier. That
excellent chemist included a quantity of tin in
a glass retort, hermetically sealed, and accurate¬
ly weighed together with its contents; he then
applied the necessary heat, and when the cal¬
cination of the tin was finished, he found the
weight of the whole precisely the same as before.
This proved that no substance, which was either
light or heavy, in a sensible degree, had made
its way through the glass. The experiment
went still farther. When the retort was cooled
and opened, the air rushed in; so that it was
evident that a part of the air had disappeared,
or had lost its elasticity. On weighing the
whole apparatus, it was now found that its
weight was increased by ten grains; so that ten
3 N
466
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
grains of air had entered into the retort when
it was opened. The calx was next taken out,
and weighed separately, and it was found to
have become heavier by ten grains precisely.
The ten grains of air then which had disap¬
peared, and which had made way for the ten
grains that rushed into the retort, had combined
with the metal during the process of calcination.
The further prosecution of this very decisive ex¬
periment led to the knowledge of that species of
air which combines with metals when they are
calcined. The doctrine of phlogiston was of
course exploded, and a creature of the imagina¬
tion replaced by a real existence.
The principle which conducts to the contriv¬
ance of an experimentum crucis is not difficult to
be understood. Taking either of the hypotheses,
its consequences must be attempted to be traced,
supposing a different experiment to be made.
This must be done with respect to the other
hypothesis, and a case will probably at last oc¬
cur, where the two hypotheses would give dif¬
ferent results. The experiment made in those
circumstances will furnish an instantia crucis.
Thus, if the experiment of calcination be per¬
formed in a close vessel, and if phlogiston be the
cause of the increase of weight, it must either
escape through the vessel, or it must remain in
the vessel after separation from the calx. If the
former he the case, the apparatus will be in¬
creased in weight; if the latter, the phlogiston
must make its escape on opening the vessel. If
neither of these he the case, it is plain that the
theory of phlogiston is insufficient to explain the
facts.
The experimentum crucis is of such weight in
matters ol induction, that in all those branches
of science where it cannot easily be resorted to,
(the circumstances of an experiment being out
of our power, and incapable of being varied at
pleasure) there is often a great want of con¬
clusive evidence. This holds of agriculture,
medicine, political economy, &c. To make one
experiment, similar to another in all respects
hut one, is what the experimentum crucis, and, in
general, the process of induction, principally re¬
quires ; hut it is what, in the sciences just
named, can seldom he accomplished. Hence the
great difficulty of separating the causes, and al¬
lotting to each its due proportion of the effect.
Men deceive themselves in consequence of this
continually, and think they are reasoning from
fact and experience, when, in reality, they are
only reasoning from a mixture of truth and
falsehood. The only end answered by facts so
incorrectly apprehended, is that of making er¬
ror more incorrigible.
Of the twenty-seven classes into which in-
stantice are arranged by the author of the Novum
Organum, fifteen immediately address themselves
to the Understanding; five serve to correct or
to inform the Senses; and seven to direct the
hand in raising the superstructure of Art on the
foundation of Science. The examples given
above are from the first of these divisions, and
will suffice for a summary. To the five that
follow next, the general name of instantice lam-
padis is given, from their office of assisting or
informing the senses.
Of these the instantice januce assist the imme¬
diate action of the senses, and especially of sight.
The examples quoted by Bacon are the micro¬
scope and telescope, (which last he mentions as
the invention of Galileo) and he speaks of them
with great admiration, but with some doubt of
their reality.
The instantice citantes enable us to perceive
things which are in themselves insensible, or not
at all the objects of perception. They cite or
place things, as it were, before the bar of the
senses, and from this analogy to judicial pro¬
ceedings is derived the name of instantice citantes.
Such, to employ examples which the progress of
science has unfolded since the time of Bacon,
are the air-pump and the barometer for mani¬
festing the weight and elasticity of air; the
measurement of the velocity of light, by means
of the eclipses of the satellites of Jupiter, and
the aberration of the fixed stars; the experi¬
ments in electricity and galvanism, and in the
greater part of pneumatic chemistry. In all
these instances things are made known which
before had entirely escaped the senses.
The instantice vice are facts which manifest the
continuous progress of nature in her operations.
There is a propensity in men to view nature as
it were at intervals, or at the ends of fixed pe¬
riods, without regarding her gradual and un-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
467
ceasing action.1 The desire of making obser¬
vation easy is the great source of this propensity.
Men wish for knowledge, but would obtain it at
the least expense of time and labour. As there
is no time, however, at which the hand of nature
ceases to work, there ought to be none at which
observation ceases to be made.
The instantia persecantes, or vellicantes, are
those which force us to attend to things which,
from their subtil ty and minuteness, escape com¬
mon observation.
Some of Bacon’s remarks on this subtilty are
such as would do credit to the most advanced
state of science, and show how much his mind
was fitted for distinguishing and observing the
great and admirable in the works of nature.
The last division contains seven classes, of
which I mention only two. The experiments
of this division are those most immediately tend¬
ing to produce the improvement of art from the
extension of science. “ Now there are,” says
Bacon, “ two ways in which knowledge, even
when sound in itself, may fail of becoming a safe
guide to the artist; and these are either when it
is not sufficiently precise, or when it leads to
more complicated means of producing an effect
than can be employed in practice. There are
therefore two kinds of experiments which are
of great val ue in promoting the alliance between
knowledge and power;—those which tend to give
accurate and exact measures of objects, and
those which disencumber the processes deduced
from scientific principles, of all unnecessary ope¬
rations.”
In the instantia radii we measure objects by
lines and angles; in the instardia, curricidi, by
time or by motion.
To the former of these classes are to be re¬
ferred a number of instruments which now con¬
stitute the greater part of the apparatus of Na¬
tural Philosophy. Though Bacon had a just
idea of their utility in general, he was unac¬
quainted with most of them. The most remark¬
able at present are those that follow.
1. Astronomical instruments, or, more gene¬
rally, all instruments for measuring lines and
angles.
2. Instruments for measuring weight or force;
such are the common balance, the hydrostatic
balance, the barometer, the instruments used in
England by Cavendish, and in France by Cou¬
lomb, which measure small and almost insensi¬
ble actions by the force of torsion.
These last rather belong to the class of the
instantice luctce, where force is applied as the
measure of force, than to the instantice radii.
3. The thermometer, newly invented in the
time of Bacon, and mentioned by him under
the name of Vitrum Calendare, an instrument to
which we owe nearly all the knowledge we have
of one of the most powerful agents in nature,
viz. Heat.
4. The hygrometer, an instrument for mea¬
suring the quantity of humidity contained in the
air; and in the construction of which, after re¬
peated failures by the most skilful experimenters,
the invention of Professor Leslie now promises
success. Almost every one of these instruments,
to which several more might be added, has
brought in sight a new country, and lias enriched
science not only with new facts, but with new
principles.
Among the remarks of Bacon on the experi-
menta radii, some are very remarkable for the
extent of view which they display even in the in¬
fancy of physical science. He mentions the
forces by which bodies act on one another at a
distance, and throws out some hints at the at¬
traction which the heavenly bodies exert on one
another.
“ Inquirendum est,” says he,“ si sit vis aliqua
magnetica quae operetur per consensum inter
globum terrae et ponderosa, aut inter globum
lunse et aquas maris, aut inter coelum stellatum
et planetas, per quam avocentur et attollantur ad
sua apogaea; haec omnia operantur ad distantias
admodum longinquas.”2
Under the head of the instantia curriculi, or
the measuring of things by time; after remark¬
ing that every change and every motion requires
time, and illustrating this by a variety of in¬
stances, he has the following very curious anti¬
cipation of facts, which appeared then doubtful,
but which subsequent discovery has ascertained:
1 Novum Organum, lib. i'u aph. 41.
2 Ibid. aph. 45.
468
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ce The consideration of those things produced
in me a doubt altogether astonishing, viz. Whe¬
ther the face of the serene and starry heavens be
seen at the instant it really exists, or not till some
time later; and whether there be not, with re¬
spect to the heavenly bodies, a true time and an
apparent time, no less than a true place and an
apparent place, as astronomers say, on account
of parallax. For it seems incredible that the
species or rays of the celestial bodies can pass
through the immense interval between them
and us in an instant, or that they do not even
require some considerable portion of time.”1
The measurement of the velocity of light, and
the wonderful consequences arising from it, are
the best commentaries on this passage, and the
highest eulogy on its author.
Such were the speculations of Bacon, and the
rules he laid down for the conduct of experi¬
mental inquiries, before any such inquiries had
yet been instituted. The power and compass of
a mind which could form such a plan beforehand,
and trace not merely the outline, but many of
the most minute ramifications, of sciences which
did not yet exist, must be an object of admiration
to all succeeding ages. He is destined, if in¬
deed any thing in the world be so destined, to
remain an instantia singularis among men, and
as he has had no rival in the times which are
past, so is he likely to have none in those which
are to come. Before any parallel to him can be
found, not only must a man of the same talents
be produced, but he must be placed in the same
circumstances; the memory of his predecessor
must he elfaced, and the light of science, after
being entirely extinguished, must be again be¬
ginning to revive. If a second Bacon is ever to
arise, he must be ignorant of the first.
Bacon is often compared with two great men
who lived nearly about the same time with him¬
self, and who were both eminent reformers of
philosophy, Descartes and Galileo.
Descartes flourished about forty years later
than Bacon, but does not seem to have been ac¬
quainted with his writings. Like him, however,
be was forcibly struck with the defects of the
ancient philosophy, and the total inaptitude of
the methods which it followed, for all the pur¬
poses of physical investigation. Like him, too,
he felt himself strongly impelled to undertake
the reformation of this erroneous system; but
the resemblance between them goes no farther;
for it is impossible that two men could pursue
the same end by methods more diametrically
opposite.
Descartes never proposed to himself any thing
which had the least resemblance to induction.
He began with establishing principles, and from
the existence of the Deity and his perfections,
he proposed to deduce the explanation of all the
phenomena of the world, by reasoning a priori.
Instead of proceeding upward from the effect to
the cause, he proceeded continually downward
from the cause to the effect. It was in this man¬
ner that he sought to determine the laws of mo¬
tion, and of the collision of bodies, in which last
all his conclusions were erroneous. From the
same source he deduced the existence of a. ple¬
num, and the continual preservation of the same
quantity of motion in the universe; a proposi¬
tion which, in a certain sense, is true, but in the
sense in which he understood it, is altogether
false. Reasonings of the kind which he em¬
ployed may possibly suit, as Bacon observed,
with intelligences of a higher order than man,
but to his case they are quite inapplicable. Of
the fruit of this tree nature has forbidden him
to eat, and has ordained that, with the sweat of
his brow, and the labour of his hands, he should
earn his knowledge as well as his subsistence.
Descartes, however, did not reject experiment
altogether, though he assigned it a vei*y subor¬
dinate place in his philosophy. By reasoning
down from first principles, he tells us that he
was always able to discover the effects; but the
number of different shapes which those effects
might assume was so great, that he could not
determine, without having recourse to experi¬
ment, which of them nature had preferred to the
rest. “ We employ experiment,” says he, “ not
as a reason by which any thing is proved, for
we wish to deduce effects from their causes, and
not conversely causes from their effects. We
1 Novum Organum, lib. ii. aph. 46.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
469
appeal to experience only, that out of innume¬
rable effects which may he produced from the
same cause, we may direct our attention to one
rather than another.” It is wonderful, that
Descartes did not see what a severe censure he
was here passing on himself; of how little value
the speculations must be that led to conclusions
so vague and indefinite; and how much more
philosophy is disgraced by affording an explana¬
tion of things which are not, than by not afford¬
ing an explanation of things which are.
As a system of philosophy and philosophic
investigation, the method of Descartes can,
therefore, stand in no comparison with that of
Bacon. Yet his Physics contributed to the ad¬
vancement of science, but did so, much more by
that which they demolished, than by that which
they built up. In some particular branches the
French philosopher far excelled the English.
He greatly improved the science of optics, and
in the pure mathematics, as has been already
shown, he left behind him many marks of a
great and original genius.* He will, therefore,
be always numbered among those who have
essentially contributed to the advancement of
knowledge, though nothing could be more per¬
verse than his method of philosophizing, and
nothing more likely to impede the progress of
science, had not an impulse been at that time
given to the human mind which nothing could
resist.
Galileo, the other rival and contemporary of
Bacon, is, in truth, one of those to whom hu¬
man knowledge is under the greatest obligations.
His discoveries in the theory of motion, in the
laws of the descent of heavy bodies, and in the
motion of projectiles, laid the foundation of all the
great improvements which have since been made
by the application of Mathematics to Natural
Philosophy. If to this we add the invention of
the telescope, the discoveries made by that in¬
strument, the confirmations of the Copernican
system which these discoveries afforded, and,
lastly, the wit and argument with which he
combated and exposed the prejudice and pre¬
sumption of the schools, we must admit that the
history of human knowledge contains few greater
names than that of Galileo. On comparing him
with Bacon, however, I have no hesitation in
saying, that the latter has given indications of a
genius of a still higher order. In this I know
that I differ from a historian who was himself
a philosopher, and whose suffrage, of conse¬
quence, is here of more than ordinary weight.
“ The great glory of literature,” says Hume,
c< in this island, during the reign of James, was
Lord Bacon. If we consider the variety of ta¬
lents displayed by this man, as a public speaker,
a man of business, a wit, a courtier, a compan¬
ion, an author, a philosopher, he is justly en¬
titled to great admiration. If we consider him
merely as an author and a philosopher, the light
in which we view him at present, though very
es tipi able, he was yet inferior to his contempo¬
rary Galileo, perhaps even to Kepler. Bacon
pointed out, at a distance, the road to philoso¬
phy ; Galileo both pointed it out to others, and
made himself considerable advances in it. The
Englishman was ignorant of geometry; the
Florentine revived that science, excelled in it,
and was the first who applied it, together with
experiment, to natural philosophy. The former
rejected, with the most positive disdain, the
system of Copernicus; the latter fortified it
with new proofs, derived both from reason and
the senses. Bacon’s style is stiff and rigid; his
wit, though often brilliant, is also often unnatu¬
ral and far-fetched. Galileo is a lively and
agreeable, though somewhat a prolix writer.”1
Though it cannot be denied that there is con¬
siderable truth in these remarks, yet it seems to
me that the comparison is not made with the
justness and discrimination which might have
been expected from Hume, who appears studi¬
ously to have contrasted what is most excellent
in Galileo with what is most defective in Bacon.
It is true that Galileo showed the way in the
application of mathematics and of geometry to
physical investigation, and that the immediate
utility of his performance was greater than that
of Bacon’s, as it impressed more movement on
the age in which he lived, example being always
so much more powerful than precept. Bacon,
indeed, wrote for an age more enlightened than
* History of England, vol. VL Appendix.
470
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
his own, and it was long before the full merit
of his work was understood. But though Gali¬
leo was a geometer, and Bacon unacquainted
with the mathematics,—though Galileo added
new proofs to the system of the earth’s motion,
which Bacon rejected altogether,—yet is it cer¬
tain, I think, that the former has more fellows
or equals in the world of science than the latter,
and that his excellence, though so high, is less
unrivalled. The range which Bacon’s specula¬
tions embraced was altogether immense. He
cast a penetrating eye on the whole of science,
from its feeblest and most infantine state, to that
strength and perfection from which it was then
so remote, and which it is perhaps destined to
approach to continually, but never to attain.
More substitutes might he found for Galileo than
for Bacon. More than one could be mentioned,
who, in the place of the former, would probably
have done what he did; hut the history of hu¬
man knowledge points out nobody of whom it
can be said, that, placed in the situation of
Bacon, he would have done what Bacon did;—
no man whose prophetic genius would have
enabled him to delineate a system of science
which had not yet begun to exist—who could
have derived the knowledge of what ought to he
from what was not, and who could have become
so rich in wisdom, though he received from his
predecessors no inheritance hut their errors. I
am inclined, therefore, to agree with D’Alem¬
bert, “ that when one considers the sound and
enlarged views of this great man, the multitude
of the objects to which his mind was turned,
and the boldness of his style, which unites the
most sublime images with the most rigorous
precision, one is disposed to regard him as the
greatest, the most universal, and the most elo¬
quent of philosophers.”1
3. REMARKS, &C.
It will hardly he doubted by any one who at¬
tentively considers the method explained in the
Novum Organum, which we have now attempted
to sketch, that it contains a most comprehensive
and rigorous plan of inductive investigation. A
question, however, may occur, How far has this
method been really carried into practice by those
who have made the great discoveries in Natural
Philosophy, and who have raised physical science
to its present height in the scale of human know¬
ledge ? Is the whole method necessary, or have
not circumstances occurred, which have render¬
ed experimental investigation easier in practice
than it appears to be in theory ? To answer
these questions completely, would require more
discussion than is consistent with the limits of
this Dissertation : I shall, therefore, attempt no
more than to point out the principles on which
such an answer may be founded.
In a very extensive department of physical
science, it cannot be doubted that investigation
has been carried on, not perhaps more easily,
but with a less frequent appeal to experience,
than the rules of the Novum Organum would
seem to require. In all the physical inquiries
where mathematical reasoning has been employ¬
ed, after a few principles have been established
by experience, a vast multitude of truths, equally
certain with the principles themselves, have been
deduced from them by the mere application of
geometry and algebra.
In mechanics, for example, after the laws of
motion were discovered, which was done by ex¬
periment, the rest of the science, to a great ex¬
tent, was carried on by reasoning from those
laws, in the same manner that the geometer
makes his discoveries by reasoning on the defi¬
nitions, by help of a few axioms, or self-evident
propositions. The only difference is, that, in the
one case, the definitions and axioms are supplied
solely from the mind itself, while, in the other,
all the definitions and axioms which are not
those of pure geometry, are furnished by ex¬
perience. 2
Bacon certainly was not fully aware of the
advantages that were thus to accrue to the phy¬
sical sciences. He was not ignorant, that the
introduction of mathematical reasoning into
those sciences is not only possible, but that, un-
1 Discours Preliminaire de I’Encyclopddie.
part of Mechanics which involves only statical considerations, or the equilibrium of forces, is capable of being
treated by reasoning a priori entirely, without any appeal to experience. This will appear, when the subiect of Mechanics
is more particularly treated of.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
471
der certain conditions, it may be attended with
the greatest advantage. He knew also in what
manner this application had been abused by the
Platonists, who had attempted, by means of geo¬
metry, to establish the first principles of Physics,
or had used them, in axiomatis comtituendis, which
is exactly the province belonging exclusively to
experience. At the same time, he pointed out,
with great precision, the place which the Mathe¬
matics may legitimately occupy, as serving to
measure and compare the objects of physical in¬
quiry. He did not, however, perceive before¬
hand, nor was it possible that he should, the vast
extent to which the application of that science
was capable of being carried. In the book De
Avgmentis, he has made many excellent remarks
on this subject, full of the sagacity which pene¬
trated so far into futurity, but, nevertheless,
could only perceive a small part of the scene
which the genius of Newton was afterwards to
unfold.
Hence, the route which leads to many of the
richest and most fertile fields of science, is not
precisely that which Bacon pointed out; it is
safer and easier; so that the voyager finds he
can trust to his chart and compass alone, with¬
out constantly looking out, or having the sound¬
ing-line perpetually in his hand.
Another remark I must make on Bacon’s me¬
thod is, that it does not give sufficient import¬
ance to the instantice radii, or those which fur¬
nish us with accurate measures of physical quan¬
tities. The experiments of this class are intro¬
duced as only subservient to practice ; they are,
however, of infinite value in the theoretical part
of induction, or for ascertaining the causes and
essences of the things inquired into. We have
an instance of this in the discovery of that im¬
portant truth in physical astronomy, that the
moon is retained in her orbit by the force of
gravity, or the same which, at the earth’s sur¬
face, makes a stone fall to the ground. This
proposition, however it might have been sus¬
pected to be true, could never have been demon¬
strated but by such observations and experiments
as assigned accurate geometrical measures to the
quantities compared. The semidiameter of the
earth; the velocity of falling bodies at the earth’s
surface; the distance of the moon, and her ve¬
locity in her orbit;—all these four elements must
have been determined with great precision, and
afterwards compared together by certain theo¬
rems deduced from the laws of motion, before the
relation between the force which retains the moon
in her orbit, and that which draws a stone to
the ground, could possibly be discovered. The
discovery also, when made, carried with it the
evidence of demonstration; so that here, as in
many other cases, the instantice radii are of the
utmost importance in the theoretical part of
Physics.
Another thing to be observed is, that, in many
cases, the result of a number of particular facts,
or the collective instance arising from them, can
only be found out by geometry, which, there¬
fore, becomes a necessary instrument in com¬
pleting the work of induction. An example,
which the science of optics furnishes, will make
this clearer than any general description. When
light passes from one transparent medium to
another, it is refracted, that is, it ceases to go on
in a straight line, and the angle which the inci¬
dent ray makes with the superficies which bounds
the two media, determines that which the refract¬
ed ray makes with the same superficies. Now,
if we would learn any thing about the relation
wdiich these angles bear to one another, we must
have recourse to experiment; and all that experi¬
ment can do is, for any particular angle of inci¬
dence, to determine the corresponding angle of
refraction. This may be done in innumerable
cases; but, with respect to the general rule which,
in every possible case, determines the one of those
angles from the other, or expresses the constant
and invariable relation which subsists between
them,—with respect to it, experiment gives no
direct information. The methods of geometry
must therefore be called in to our assistance,
which, when a constant though unknown relation
subsists between two angles, or two variable
quantities of any kind, and when an indefinite
number of values of those quantities are given,
furnishes infallible means of discovering that
unknown relation, either accurately, or at least
by approximation. In this way it has been
found, that, when the two media remain the
same, the cosines of the angles above mentioned
have a constant ratio to one another. Thus
472
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
it appears, that, after experiment has done
its utmost, geometry must be applied before
the business of induction can be completed.
This can only happen when the experiments af¬
ford accurate measures of the quantities con¬
cerned, like the instantice radii, curriculi, &c.;
and this advantage of admitting generalization
with so much certainty is one of their proper¬
ties, of which it does not appear that even Ba¬
con himself was aware.
Again, from the intimate connection which
prevails among the principles of science, the suc¬
cess of one investigation must often contribute
to the success of another, in such a degree as to
make it unnecessary to employ the complete ap¬
paratus of induction from the beginning. When
certain leading principles have been once esta¬
blished, they serve, in new investigations, to
narrow the limits within which the thing sought
for is contained, and enable the inquirer to arrive
more speedily at the truth.
Thus, suppose that, after the nature of the
reflection and refraction of light, and particu¬
larly of the colours produced by the latter, had
been discovered by experiment, the cause of the
rainbow were to be inquired into. It would,
after a little consideration, appear probable, that
the phenomenon to be explained depends on the
reflection and refraction of light by the rain fall¬
ing from a cloud opposite to the sun. Now,
since the nature of reflection and refraction are
supposed known, we have the principles previ¬
ously ascertained which are likely to assist in
the explanation of the rainbow. We have no
occasion, therefore, to enter on the inquiry, as
if the powers to be investigated were wholly un¬
known. It is the combination of them only
which is unknown, and our business is to seek
so to combine them, that the result may corre¬
spond with the appearances. This last is precise¬
ly what Newton accomplished, when, by deduc¬
ing from the known laws of refraction and re¬
flection the breadth of the coloured arch, the dia¬
meter of the circle of which it is a part, and the
relation of the latter to the place of the specta¬
tor and of the sun, he found all these to come
out from his calculus, just as they are observed
in nature. Thus he proved the truth of his solu¬
tion by the most clear and irresistible evidence.
The strict method of Bacon is therefore only
necessary where the thing to be explained is new,
and where we have no knowledge, or next to
none, of the powers employed. This is but rare¬
ly the case, at least in some of the branches of
Physics; and, therefore, it occurs most common¬
ly in actual investigation, that the inquirer finds
himself limited, almost from the first outset, to
two or three hypotheses, all other suppositions
involving inconsistencies which cannot for a
moment be admitted. His business, therefore,
is to compare the results of these hypotheses, and
to consider what consequences may in any case
arise from the one that would not arise from
the other. If any such difference can be found,
and if the matter is a subject of experiment, we
have then an instantia crucis which must decide
the question.
Thus, the instantia crucis comes in real prac¬
tice to be the experiment most frequently ap¬
pealed to, and that from which the most valu¬
able information is derived.
In executing the method here referred to, the
application of much reasoning, and frequently
of much mathematical reasoning, is necessary,
before any appeal to the experiment can be made,
in order to deduce from each of the hypotheses
an exact estimate of the consequences to which
it leads. Suppose, for instance, that the law by
which the magnetic virtue decreases in its in¬
tensity, as we recede from its poles, were to be
inquired into. It is obvious that the number of
hypotheses is here indefinite; and that we have
hardly any choice but to begin with the simplest,
or with that which is most analogous to the law
of other forces propagated from a centre. What¬
ever law we assume, we must enter into a good
deal of geometric reasoning, before a conclusion
can be obtained, capable of being brought to the
test of experience. The force itself, like all other
forces, is not directly perceived, and its effects
are not the result of its mere intensityr, but of
that intensity combined with the figure and mag¬
nitude of the body on which it acts; and, there¬
fore, the calculus must be employed to express
the measure of the effect, in terms of the inten¬
sity and the distance only. This being done, the
hypothesis which gives results most nearly cor¬
responding to the facts observed, when the mag-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
473
net acts on the same body, at different distances,
must be taken as the nearest approximation to
the truth. We have here an instance of the use
of hypothesis in inductive investigation, and, in¬
deed, of the only legitimate use to which it can
ever be applied.
It also appears that Bacon placed the ultimate
object of philosophy too high, and too much out
of the reach of man, even when his exertions
are most skilfully conducted. He seems to have
thought, that, by giving a proper direction to
our researches, and carrying them on according
to the inductive method, we should arrive at the
knowledge of the essences of the powers and
qualities residing in bodies; that we should, for
instance, become acquainted with the essence of
heat, of cold, of colour, of transparency. The
fact however is, that, in as far as science has
yet advanced, no one essence has been dis¬
covered, either as to matter in general, or as to
any of its more extensive modifications. We
are yet in doubt, whether heat is a peculiar mo¬
tion of the minute parts of bodies, as Bacon him¬
self conceived it to be; or something emitted or
radiated from their surfaces; or lastly, the vi¬
brations of an elastic medium, by which they
are penetrated and surrounded. Yet whatever
be the form or essence of heat, we have disco¬
vered a great number of its properties and its
laws ; and have done so, by pursuing with more
or less accuracy the method of induction. We
have also this consolation for the imperfection
of our theoretical knowledge, that, in as much
as art is concerned, or the possession of power
over heat, we have perhaps all the advantages
that could be obtained from a complete know¬
ledge of its essence.
An equal degree of mystery hangs over the
other properties and modifications of body;
light, electricity, magnetism, elasticity, gravity,
are all in the same circumstances; and the only
advance that philosophy has made toward the
discovery of the essences of these qualities or
substances is, by exploding some theories, rather
than by establishing any,—so true is Bacon’s
maxim, that the first steps in philosophy neces¬
sarily consist in negative propositions. Besides
this, in all the above instances the laws of ac¬
tion have been ascertained; the phenomena
mss. in. part i.
have been reduced to a few general facts, and
in some cases, as in that of gravity, to one
only; and for aught that yet appears, this is
the highest point which our science is destined
to reach.
In consequence of supposing a greater perfec¬
tion in knowledge than is ever likely to be at¬
tained, Bacon appears, in some respects, to have
misapprehended the way in which it is ultimate¬
ly to become applicable to art. He conceives
that, if the form of any quality were known, we
should be able, by inducing that form on any
body, to communicate to it the said quality. It
is not probable, however, that this would often
lead to a more easy and simple process than that
which art has already invented. In the case of
colour, for example, though ignorant of its form^
or of the construction of surface which enables
bodies to reflect only light of a particular spe¬
cies, yet we know how to communicate that
power from one body to another. Nor is it
likely, though this structure were known with
ever so great precision, that we should be able
to impart it to bodies by any means so simple
and easy, as by the common process of immersing
them in a liquid of a given colour.
In some instances, however, the theories of
Chemistry have led to improvements of art very
conformable to the anticipations of the Novum
Organum. A remarkable instance of this occurs
in the process for bleaching, invented by Ber-
thollet. It had been for some time known, that
the combination of the chemical principle of
oxygen with the colouring matter in bodies,
destroyed or discharged the colour; and that,
in the common process of bleaching, it was
chiefly by the union of the oxygen of the air
with the colouring matter in the cloth that this
effect was produced. The excellent chemist
just named conceived, therefore, that if the oxy¬
gen could be presented to the cloth in a dense
state, and, at the same time, feebly combined
with any other body, it might unite itself to the
colouring matter so readily, that the process of
bleaching would by that means be greatly acce¬
lerated. His skill in Chemistry suggested to him
a way in which this might easily be done, by
immersing the cloth in a liquid containing much
oxygen in a loose state, or one in which it was
3 o
474
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
slightly comhined with other substances; and
the effect followed so exactly, that he was able
to perform in a few hours what required weeks,
and even months, according to the common pro¬
cess. This improvement, therefore, was a real
gift from the sciences to the arts; and came
nearly, though not altogether, up to the ideas of
Bacon. I suspect not altogether, because the
manner in which oxygen destroys the colour of
bodies, or alters the structure of their surfaces,
remains quite unknown.
It was natural, however, that Bacon, who
studied these subjects theoretically, and saw
nowhere any practical result in which he could
confide, should listen to the inspirations of his
own genius, and ascribe to philosophy a perfec¬
tion which it may be destined never to attain.
He knew, that from what it had not yet done,
he could conclude nothing against what it might
hereafter accomplish. But after his method
has been followed, as it has now been, with
greater or less accuracy, for more than two hun¬
dred years, circumstances are greatly changed,
and the impediments which, during all that
time, have not yielded in the least to any effort,
are perhaps never likely to be removed. This
may, however, be a rash inference; Bacon, after
all, may be in the right; and we may be judg¬
ing under the influence of the vulgar prejudice,
which has convinced men in every age, that they
had nearly reached the farthest verge of human
knowledge. This must be left for the decision
of posterity; and we should rejoice to think,
that judgment will hereafter be given against
the opinion which at this moment appears most
probable.
SECTION III.
MECHANICS.
1. THEORY OF MOTION.
Before the end of the sixteenth century, me¬
chanical science had never gone beyond the
problems which treat of the equilibrium of bo¬
dies, and had been able to resolve these accu¬
rately, only in the cases which can be easily re¬
duced to the lever. Guido Ubaldi, an Italian
mathematician, was among the first who at¬
tempted to go farther than Archimedes and the
ancients had done in such inquiries. In a trea¬
tise which bears the date of 1577, he reduced
the pulley to the lever ; but with respect to the
inclined plane, he continued in the same error
with Pappus Alexandrinus, supposing that a
certain force must be applied to sustain a body,
even on a plane which has no inclination.
Stevinus, an engineer of the Low Countries,
is the first who can be said to have passed be¬
yond the point at which the ancients had stopp¬
ed, by determining accurately the force neces¬
sary to sustain a body on a plane inclined at any
angle to the horizon. He resolved also a great
number of other problems connected with the
preceding, but, nevertheless, did not discover
the general principle of the composition of forces,
though he became acquainted with this particu¬
lar case, immediately applicable to the inclined
plane.
The remark, that a chain laid on an inclined
plane, with a part of it hanging over at top, in
a perpendicular line, will be in equilibria, if the
two ends of the chain reach down exactly to the
same level, led him to the conclusion, that a
body may be supported on such a plane by a
force which draws in a direction parallel to it,
and has to the weight of the body the same ratio
that the height of the plane has to its length.
Though it was probably from experience that
Stevinus derived the knowledge of this propo¬
sition, he attempted to prove the truth of it by
reasoning a 'priori. He supposed the two ex-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
475
tremities of the chain, when disposed as above,
to be connected by a part similar to the rest,
which, therefore, must hang down, and form an
arch. If in this state, says he, the chain were
to move at all, it would continue to move for
ever, because its situation, on the whole, never
changing, if it were determined to move at one
instant, it must be so determined at every other
instant. Now, such perpetual motion, he adds,
is impossible; and therefore the chain, as here
supposed, with the arch hanging below, does
not move. But the force of the arch below
draws down the ends of the chain equally, be¬
cause the arch is divided in the middle or low¬
est point into two parts similar and equal. Take
away these two equal forces, and the remaining
forces will also be equal; that is, the tendency of
the chain to descend along the inclined plane, and
the opposite tendency of the part hanging per¬
pendicularly down, are equal, or are in equilibria
with one another. Such is the reasoning of
Stevinus, which, whether perfectly satisfactory
or not, must be acknowledged to be extremely
ingenious, and highly deserving of attention, as
having furnished the first solution of a problem,
bv which the progress of mechanical science had
been long arrested. The first appearance of his
solution is said to have had the date of 1585;
but his works, as we now see them, were col¬
lected after his death, by his countryman Albert
Girard, and published at Leyden in 1634.1 Some
discoveries of Stevinus in hydrostatics will be
hereafter mentioned.
The person who comes next in the history of
mechanics made a great revolution in the phy¬
sical sciences. Galileo wa« born at Pisa in the
year 1564. He early applied himself to the
study of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy ;
and it is from the period of his discoveries that
we are to date the joint application of experi¬
mental and geometrical reasoning to explain the
phenomena of nature.
As early as 1592 he published a treatise, della
Scienza Mechanica, in which he has given the
theory, not of the lever only, but of the inclined
plane and the screw; and has also laid down
this general proposition, that mechanical engines
make a small force equivalent to a great one,
by making the former move over a greater space
in the same time than the latter, just in propor¬
tion as it is less. No contrivance can make a
small weight put a great one in motion, but
such a one as gives to the small weight a velo¬
city which is as much greater than that of the
large weight, as this last weight is greater than
the first. These general propositions, and their
influence on the action of machinery, Galileo
proceeded to illustrate with that clearness, sim¬
plicity, and extent of view, in which he was
quite unrivalled; and hence, I think, it is fair
to consider him as the first person to whom the
mechanical principle, since denominated that of
the virtual velocities, had occurred in its full ex¬
tent. The object of his consideration was the
action of machines in motion, and not merely of
machines in equilibria, or at rest; and he show¬
ed, that if the effect of a force be estimated by
the weight it can raise to a given height in a
given time, this effect can never be increased by
any mechanical contrivance whatsoever.
In the same treatise, he lays it doAvn as a pos¬
tulate, (supposizione) that the effect of one heavy
body to turn another round a centre of motion,
is proportional to the perpendicular drawn from
that centre to the vertical passing through the
body, or in general to the direction of the force.
This proposition lie states without a demonstra¬
tion, and passes by means of it to the oblique
lever, and thence to the inclined plane. To
speak strictly, however, the demonstrations with
respect to both these last are incomplete, the
preceding proposition being assumed in them
without proof. It is probable that he satisfied
himself of the truth of it, on the principle, that
the distances of forces from the centre of motion
must always be measured by lines making the
same angles with their directions, and that of
such lines the simplest are the perpendiculars.
His demonstration is regarded by La Grange as
quite satisfactory.2
1 The edition of Albert Girard is entitled (Euvres Mathematiques de Stcvins, in folio. See livre i. De la Statique, thdo-
ime 11? Stevinus ato wrote a treatise on Navigation, which was published in Flenush ,n ff^was afterwards honour^
1 with a translation into Latin, by Grotius. The merit of Stevinus has been partieulaily noticed by La GranBe. (
nique Analytique, tom. I. sect. 1. § 5.)
* Mtcanique Analytique, tom. I. sect. 1. § 6.
476
preliminary dissertations.
Galileo extended the theory of motion still
farther. He had begun, while pursuing his stu¬
dies at the University of Pisa, to make experi¬
ments on the descent of falling bodies, and dis¬
covered the fact, that heavy and light bodies fall
to the ground from the same height in the same
time, or in times so nearly the same that the
difference can only he ascribed to the resistance
of the air. From observing the vibrations of
the lamps in the cathedral, he also arrived at
this very important conclusion in mechanics,
that the great and the small vibrations of the
same pendulum are performed in the same time,
and that this time depends only on the length of
the pendulum. The date of these observations
goes back as far as the year 1583.
These experiments drew upon him the dis¬
pleasure of his masters, who considered it as
unbecoming of their pupil to seek for truth in the
Book of Nature, rather than in the writings of
Aristotle, when elucidated by their commen¬
taries ; and from that moment began the perse¬
cutions with which the prejudice, the jealousy,
and bigotry of his contemporaries continued to
harass or afflict this great man throughout his
whole life.
That the acceleration of falling bodies is uni¬
form, or, that they receive equal increments of
velocity in equal times, he appears first to have
assumed as the law which they follow, merely
on account of its simplicity. Having once as¬
sumed this principle, he showed, by mathema¬
tical reasoning, that the spaces descended through
must be as the squares of the times, and that
the space fallen through in one second is just the
half of that which the body would have described
in the same time with the velocity last acquired.
The knowledge which he already had of the
properties of the inclined plane enabled him
very readily to perceive, that a body descending
on such a plane must be uniformly accelerated,
though more slowly than when it falls directly,
and is accelerated by its whole weight. By
means of the inclined plane, therefore, he was
able to bring the whole theory of falling bodies
to the test of experiment, and to prove the truth
of his original assumption, the uniformity of
their acceleration.
His next step was to determine the path of
a heavy body, when obliquely projected. He
showed this path to he a parabola; and here,
for the first time, occurs the use of a principle
which is the same with the composition of mo¬
tion in its full extent. Galileo, however, gave
no name to this principle; he did not enunciate
it generally, nor did he give any demonstration
of it, though he employed it in his reasonings.
The inertia of body was assumed in the same
manner; it was, indeed, involved in the uniform
acceleration of falling bodies; for these bodies
did not lose in one minute the motion acquired
in the preceding, hut, retaining it, went on con¬
tinually receiving more.
The theory of the inclined plane had led to the
knowledge of this proposition, that if a circle
be placed vertically, the chords of different arches
terminating in the lowest point of the circle,
are all descended through in the same space of
time. This seemed to explain why, in a circle,
the great and the small vibrations are of equal
duration. Here, however, Galileo was under a
mistake, as the motions in the chord and in the
arch are very dissimilar. The accelerating force
in the chord remains the same from the begin¬
ning to the end, but in the arch it varies con¬
tinually, and becomes, at the lowest point, equal
to nothing. The times in the chords, and in the
arches, are therefore different, so that here we
have a point marking the greatest distance in
this quarter, to which the mechanical discoveries
of Galileo extended. The first person who in¬
vestigated the exact time of a vibration in an
arch of a circle was Huygens, a very profound
mathematician.
To this list of mechanical discoveries, already
so important and extensive, we must add, that
Galileo was the first who maintained the ex¬
istence of the law of continuity, and who made
use of it as a principle in his reasonings on the
phenomena of motion.1
The vibrations of the pendulum having sug¬
gested to Galileo the means of measuring time
1 Opcre di Galileo, tom. IV. dial. i. p. 32, Florence edition, and in many other parts.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
477
accurately, it appears certain that the idea of
applying it to the clock had also occurred to
him, and of using the chronometer so formed for
finding the longitude, by means of observations
made on the eclipses of the satellites of Jupiter.
How far he had actually proceeded in an inven¬
tion which required great practical knowledge,
and which afterwards did so much credit to
Huygens, appears to be uncertain, and not now
easy to he ascertained. But, that the project
had occurred to him, and that he had taken
some steps towards realizing it, is sufficiently
established.
One forms, however, a very imperfect idea of
this philosopher, from considering the discove¬
ries and inventions, numerous and splendid as
they are, of which he was the undisputed au¬
thor. It is by following his reasonings, and by
pursuing the train of his thoughts in his own
elegant, though somewhat diffuse exposition of
them, that we become acquainted with the fer¬
tility of his genius, with the sagacity, penetra¬
tion, and comprehensiveness of his mind. The
service which he rendered to real knowledge is
to he estimated, not only from the truths which
he discovered, but from the errors which he de¬
tected,—not merely from the sound principles
which he established, but from the pernicious
idols which he overthrew. His acuteness was
strongly displayed in the address with which he
exposed the errors of his adversaries, and refuted
their opinions, by comparing one part of them
with another, and proving their extreme incon¬
sistency. Of all the writers who have lived in
an age which was yet only emerging from ig¬
norance and barbarism, Galileo has most entire¬
ly the tone of true philosophy, and is most free
from any contamination of the times, in taste,
sentiment, and opinion.
The discoveries of this great man concerning
motion drew the attention of philosophers more
readily, from the circumstance that the astro¬
nomical theories of Copernicus had directed their
attention to the same subject. It had become
evident, that the great point in dispute between
his system and the Ptolemaic must be finally
decided by an appeal to the nature of motion
and its laws. The great argument to which the
friends of the latter system naturally had re¬
course, was the impossibility, as it seemed to
them to he, of the swift motion of the earth be¬
ing able to exist, without the perception, nay,
even without the destruction of its inhabitants.
It was natural for the followers of Copernicus
to reply, that it was not certain that these two
things were incompatible; that there were many
cases in which it appeared, that the motion
common to a whole system of bodies did not
affect the motion of those bodies relatively to one
another; that the question must be more deeply
inquired into; and that, without this, the evi¬
dence on opposite sides could not be fairly and
accurately compared. Thus, it was at a very
fortunate moment that Galileo made his disco¬
veries in mechanics, as they were rendered
more interesting by those which, at that very
time, he himself was making in astronomy.
The system of Copernicus had, in this manner,
an influence on the theory of motion, and, of
course, on all the parts of Natural Philosophy.
The inertia of matter, or the tendency of body,
when put in motion, to preserve the quantity
and direction of that motion, after the cause
which impressed it has ceased to act, is a prin¬
ciple which might still have been unknown, if
it had not been forced upon us by the discovery
of the motion of the earth.
The first addition which was made to the me¬
chanical discoveries of Galileo was by Torricelli,
in a treatise De Motu Gravium naturaliter de-
scendentium et projectorum.1 To this ingenious
man we are indebted for the discovery of a re¬
markable property of the centre of gravity, and
a general principle with respect to the equi¬
librium of bodies. It is this: If there be any
number of heavy bodies connected together, and
so circumstanced, that by their motion their
centre of gravity can neither ascend nor descend,
these bodies will remain at rest. This proposi¬
tion often furnishes the means of resolving very
difficult questions in mechanics.
Descartes, whose name is so great in philoso¬
phy and mathematics, has also a place in the
history of mechanical discovery. With regard
Vitas Italorum Illustrium, vol. I. p. 347-
478
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to the action of machines, he laid down the same
principle which Galileo had established, that
an equal effort is necessary to give to a weight a
certain velocity, as to give to double the weight
the half of that velocity, and so on in proportion,
the effect being al ways measured by the weight
multiplied into the velocity which it receives.
He could hardly be ignorant that this proposi¬
tion had been already stated by Galileo, but he
has made no mention of it. He indeed always
affected a disrespect for the reasonings and opin¬
ions of the Italian philosopher, which has done
him no credit in the eyes of posterity.
The theory of motion, however, has in some
points been considerably indebted to Descartes.
Though the reasonings of Galileo certainly in¬
volve the knowledge of the disposition which
matter has to preserve its condition either of
rest or of rectilineal and uniform motion, the
first distinct enunciation of this law is found in
the writings of the French philosopher. It is,
however, there represented, not as mere inacti¬
vity, or indifference, but as a real force, which
bodies exert in order to preserve their state of
rest or of motion; and this inaccuracy affects
some of the reasonings concerning their action
on one another.
Descartes, however, argued very justly, that
all motion being naturally rectilineal, when a
body moves in a curve, this must arise from
some constraint, or some force urging it in a
direction different from that of the first impulse,
and that if this cause were removed at any time,
the motion would become rectilineal, and would
be in the direction of a tangent, to the curve at
the point where the deflecting force ceased to act.
Lastly, he taught that the quantity of motion
in the universe remains always the same.
The reasoning by which he supported the first
and second of these propositions is not very con¬
vincing; and though he might have appealed to
experience for the truth of both, it was not in
the spirit of his philosophy to take that method
of demonstrating its principles. His argument
was, that motion is a state of body, and that
body or matter cannot change its own state.
This was his demonstration of the first proposi¬
tion, from which the second followed necessarily.
The evidence produced for the third, or the
preservation of the same quantity of motion in
the universe, is founded on the immutability of
the Divine nature, and is an instance of the in¬
tolerable presumption which so often distinguish¬
ed the reasonings of this philosopher. Though
the immutability of the Divine nature will
readily be admitted, it remains to be shown, that
the continuance of the same quantity of motion
in the universe is a consequence of it. This, in¬
deed, cannot be shown; for that quantity, in the
sense in which Descartes understood it, is so far
from being preserved uniform, that it varies con¬
tinually from one instant to another. It is ne¬
vertheless true, that the quantity of motion in
the universe, when rightly estimated, is inva¬
riable, that is, when reduced to the direction of
three axes at right angles to one another, and
when opposite motions are supposed to have op¬
posite signs. This is a truth now perfectly un¬
derstood, and is a corollary to the equality of
action and reaction, in consequence of which,
whatever motion is communicated in one direc¬
tion, is either lost in that direction, or generated
in the opposite. This, however, is quite differ¬
ent from the proposition of Descartes, and if ex¬
pressed in his language, would assert, not that
the sum, but that the difference of the opposite
motions in the universe remains constantly the
same. When he proceeds, by help of the prin¬
ciple which he had thus mistaken, to determine
the laws of the collision of bodies, his conclu¬
sions are almost all false, and have indeed such
a want of consistency and analogy with one an¬
other as ought, in the eyes of a mathematician,
to have appeared the most decisive indications of
error. How this escaped the penetration of a
man well acquainted with the harmony of geo¬
metrical truths, and the gradual transitions by
which they always pass into one another, is not
easily explained, and perhaps, of all his errors,
is the least consistent with the powerful and sys¬
tematic genius which he is so well known to
have possessed.
Thus, the obligation which the theory of mo¬
tion has to this philosopher, consists in his hav¬
ing pointed out the nature of centrifugal force,
and ascribed that force to the true cause, the in¬
ertia of body, or its tendency to uniform and
rectilineal motion.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
479
The laws which actually regulate the collision
of bodies remained unknown till some years later,
when they were recommended by the Royal So¬
ciety of London to the particular attention of its
members. Three papers soon appeared, in which
these laws were all correctly laid down, though
no one of the authors had any knowledge of the
conclusions obtained by the other two. The first
of these was read to the Society, in November
1668, by Dr Wallis of Oxford; the next by Sir
Christopher Wren in the month following; and
the third by Huygens in January 1669. The
equality of action and reaction, and the maxim,
that the same force communicates to different
bodies velocities which are inversely as their
masses, are the principles on which these inves¬
tigations are founded.
The ingenious and profound mathematician
last mentioned is also the first who explained
the true relation between the length of a pendu¬
lum and the time of its least vibrations, and
gave a rule by which the time of the rectilineal
descent, through a line equal in length to the
pendulum, might from thence be deduced. He
next applied the pendulum to regulate the mo¬
tion of a clock, and gave an account of his
construction, and the principles of it, in his
Horologium Oscillatorium, about the year 1670,
though the date of the invention goes as far
back as 1656.1 Lastly, he taught how to cor¬
rect the imperfection of a pendulum, by making
it vibrate between cycloidal cheeks, in conse¬
quence of which its vibrations, whether great or
small, became, not approximately, but precisely
of equal duration.
Robert Hooke, a very celebrated English me¬
chanician, laid claim to the same application of
the pendulum to the clock, and the same use of
the cycloidal cheeks. There is, however, no dis¬
pute as to the priority of Huygens’s claim, the
invention of Hooke being as late as 1670. Of
the cycloidal cheeks, he is not likely to have
been even the second inventor. Experiment
could hardly lead any one to this discovery, and
he was not sufficiently skilled in the Mathema¬
tics to have found it out by mere reasoning.
The fact is, that though very original and in¬
ventive, Hooke was jealous and illibeial in the
extreme ; he appropriated to himself the inven¬
tions of all the world, and accused all the world
of appropriating his.
It has already been observed, that Galileo
conceived the application of the pendulum to
the clock earlier, by several years, than either
of the periods just referred to. The invention
did great honour to him and to his two rivals;
but that which argues the most profound think¬
er, and the most skilful mathematician of the
three, is the discovery of the relation between
the length of the pendulum and the time of
its vibration, and this discovery belongs ex¬
clusively to Huygens. The method which he
followed in his investigation, availing himself
of the properties of the cj^cloid, though it be
circuitous, is ingenious, and highly instruc¬
tive.
An invention, in which Hooke has certainly
the priority to any one, is the application of a
spiral spring to regulate the balance of a watch.
It is well known of what practical utility this
invention has been found, and how much it has
contributed to the solution of the problem of
finding the longitude at sea, to which not only
he, but Galileo and Huygens, appear all to have
had an eye.
In what respects the theory of motion, Huy¬
gens has still another strong claim to our notice.
This arises from his solution of the problem of
finding the centre of oscillation of a compound
pendulum, or the length of the simple pendulum
vibrating in the same time with it. Without
the solution of this problem, the conclusions re¬
specting the pendulum were inapplicable to the
construction of clocks, in which the pendulums
used are of necessity compound. The problem
was by no means easy, and Huygens was oblig¬
ed to introduce a principle which had not before
been recognised, that if the compound pendu¬
lum, after descending to its lowest point, were to
be separated into particles distinct and uncon¬
nected with one another, and each left at liberty
to continue its own vibration, the common centre
of gravity of all those detached weights would
ascend to the same height to which it would
1 Montucla, tom. II. p. 418, 2d edit.
480
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
have ascended Lad they continued to constitute given, does great credit to his ingenuity. This
one body. The above principle led him to the was the most difficult mechanical inquiry which
true solution; and his investigation, though less preceded the invention of the differential or
satisfactory than those which have been since fluxionary calculus.
2. HYDROSTATICS.
While the theory of motion, as applied to
solids, was thus extended, in what related to
fluids it was making equal progress. The laws
which determine the weight of bodies immersed
in fluids, and also the position of bodies floating
on them, had been discovered by Archimedes,
and were further illustrated by Galileo. It had
also been discovered by Stevinus, that the pres¬
sure of fluids is in proportion to their depth; and
thus the two leading principles of hydrostatics
were established. Hydraulics, or the motion of
fluids, was a matter of more difficulty; and here
the first step is to be ascribed to Torricelli, who,
though younger than Galileo, was for some time
his contemporary. He proved that water issues
from a hole in the side or bottom of a vessel,
with the velocity which a body would acquire by
falling from the level of the surface to the level
of the orifice. This proposition, now so well
known as the basis of the whole doctrine of hy¬
draulics, was first published by Torricelli at the
end of his book De Motu Gravium et Projecto-
rum ; but it is not the greatest discovery which
science owes to the friend and disciple of Galileo.
The latter had failed in assigning the reason
why water cannot be raised in pumps higher
than thirty-three feet; but he had remarked, that
if a pump is more than thirty-three feet in
length, a vacuum will be left in it. Torricelli,
reflecting on this, conceived, that if a heavier
fluid than water were used, a vacuum might be
produced, in a way far shorter and more com¬
pendious. He tried mercury, therefore, and
made use of a glass tube about three feet long,
open at one end, and close at the other, where
it terminated in a globe. He filled this tube,
shut it with his finger, and inverted it in a basin
of mercury. The result is well known: he
found that a column of mercury was suspended
in the tube, an effect which he immediately
ascribed to the pressure of the atmosphere. So
disinterested was this philosopher, however, that
he is said to have lamented that Galileo, when
inquiring into the cause why water does not
ascend in pumps above a certain height, had not
discovered the true cause of the phenomenon.
The generosity of Torricelli was perhaps rarer
than his genius. There are more who might
have discovered the suspension of mercury in
the barometer, than who would have been will¬
ing to part with the honour of the discovery to
a master or a friend.
This experiment opened the door to a multi¬
tude of new discoveries, and demolished a formi¬
dable idol, the horror of a vacuum, to which so
much power had been long attributed, and be¬
fore which even Galileo himself had condescend¬
ed to bow.
The objections which were made to the expla¬
nation of the suspension of the mercury in the
tube of the barometer, were overthrown by car¬
rying that instrument to the top of Puy de
Dome, an experiment suggested by Pascal. The
descent of the mercury showed, that the pressure
which supported it was less there than at the
bottom ; and it was afterwards found, that the
fall of the mercury corresponded exactly to the
diminution of the length of the pressing column,
so that it afforded a measure of that diminution,
and, consequently, of the heights of mountains.
The invention of the air-pump by Otto Guericke,
burgomaster of Magdeburg, quickly followed
that of the barometer by Torricelli, though it
does not appear that the invention of the Italian
philosopher was known to the German. In
order to obtain a space entirely void of air, Otto
Guericke filled a barrel with water, and having
closed it exactly on all sides, began to draw out
the water by a sucking-pump applied to the
lower part of the vessel. He had proceeded but
a very little w ay, when the air burst into the bar¬
rel with a loud noise, and its weight was proved
by the failure of the experiment, as effectually
as it could have been by its success. After some
DISSERTATION THIRD.
481
other trials, which also failed, he thought of em¬
ploying a sphere of glass, when the experiment
succeeded, and a vacuum was obtained. This
was about the year 1654.
The elasticity of the air, as well as its weight,
now became known; its necessity to combus¬
tion, and the absorption of a certain proportion
of it, during that process; its necessity for con¬
veying sound;—all these things were clearly de¬
monstrated. The necessity of air to the respi¬
ration of animals required no proof from experi¬
ment; but the sudden extinction of life, by im¬
mersion in a vacuum, was a new illustration of
the fact.
The first considerable improvements made on
the air-pump are due to Mr Boyle. He substi¬
tuted to the glass globe of Otto Guericke a re¬
ceiver of a more commodious form, and con¬
structed his pump so as to be worked with much
more facility. His experiments were farther
extended,—they placed the weight and elasti¬
city of the air in a variety of new lights,—they
made known the power of air to dissolve water,
&c. Boyle had great skill in contriving, and
great dexterity in performing experiments. He
had, indeed, very early applied himself to the
prosecution of experimental science, and was
one of the members of the small but distin¬
guished body who, during the civil wars, held
private meetings for cultivating natural know¬
ledge, on the plan of Bacon. They met first in
London, as early as 1645, afterwards at Oxford,
taking the name of the Philosophic College. Of
them, when Charles the Second ascended the
throne, was formed the Royal Society of Lon¬
don, incorporated by letters patent in 1662.
No one was more useful than Boyle in commu¬
nicating activity and vigour to the new institu¬
tion. A real lover of knowledge, he was most
zealous in the pursuit of it; and having tho¬
roughly imbibed the spirit of Bacon, was an
avowed enemy to the philosophy of Aristotle.
SECTION IV.
ASTRONOMY.
1. ANCIENT ASTRONOMY.
It has already been remarked, that the an¬
cients made more considerable advances in as¬
tronomy than in almost any other of the physi¬
cal sciences. They applied themselves diligently
to observe the heavens, and employed mathema¬
tical reasoning to connect together the insulated
facts, which are the only objects of direct ob¬
servation. The astronomer discovers nothing
by help of his instruments, but that, at a given
instant, a certain luminous point has a particu¬
lar position in the heavens. The application of
mathematics, and particularly of spherical trigo¬
nometry, enables him to trace out the precise
track of this luminous spot; to discover the rate
of its motion, whether varied or uniform; and
thus to resolve the first great problem which
the science of astronomy involves, viz. to ex-
DISS. III. FART I.
press the positions of the heavenly bodies, rela¬
tively to a given plane in functions of the time.
The problem, thus generally enunciated, com¬
prehends all that is usually called by the name
of descriptive or mathematical astronomy.
The explanation of the celestial motions, which
naturally occurred to those who began the study
of the heavens, was, that the stars are so many
luminous points fixed in the surface of a sphere,
having the earth in its centre, and revolving on
an axis passing through that centre in the space
of twenty-four hours. When it was observed
that all the stars did not partake of this diurnal
motion in the same degree, but that some were
carried slowly towards the east, and that their
paths estimated in that direction, after certain
intervals of time, returned into themselves, it
3 p
#
482
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
was believed that they were fixed in the sur¬
faces of spheres, which revolved westward more
slowly than the sphere of the fixed stars. These
spheres must he transparent, or made of some
crystalline substance; and hence the name of the
crystalline spheres, by which they are distin¬
guished. This system, though it grew more
complicated in proportion to the number and
variety of the phenomena observed, was the
system of Aristotle and Eudoxus, and, with a few
exceptions, of all the philosophers of antiquity.
But when the business of observation came
to be regularly pursued,—when Timocharis and
Aristillus, and their successors in the Alexan¬
drian school, began to study the phenomena of
the heavens,—little was said of these orbs; and
astronomers seemed only desirous of ascertain¬
ing the laws or the general facts concerning the
planetary motions.
To do this, however, without the introduction
of hypothesis, was certainly difficult, and pro¬
bably was then impossible. The simplest and
most natural hypothesis was, that the planets
moved eastward in circles, and at a uniform
rate. But when it was found that, instead of
moving uniformly to the eastward, every one of
them was subject to great irregularity, the mo¬
tion eastward becoming at certain periods slower,
and at length vanishing altogether, so that the
planet became stationary, and afterwards ac¬
quiring a motion in the contrary direction, pro¬
ceeded for a time toward the west, it was far
from obvious how all these appearances could be
reconciled with the idea of a uniform circular
motion.
The solution of this difficulty is ascribed to
Apollonius Pergseus, one of the greatest geome¬
ters of antiquity. He conceived, that in the
circumference of a circle, having the earth for
its centre, there moved the centre of another
circle, in the circumference of which the planet
actually revolved. The first of these circles was
called the deferent, and the second the epicycle,
and the motion in the circumference of each
was supposed uniform. Lastly, it was conceived
that the motion of the centre of the epicycle in
the circumference of the deferent, and of the
planet in that of the epicycle, were in opposite
directions, the first being towards the east, and
the second towards the west. In this way, the
alterations from progressive to retrograde, with
the intermediate stationary points, were readily
explained; and Apollonius carried his investiga¬
tion so far as to determine the ratio between the
radius of the deferent and that of the epicycle,
from knowing the stations and retrogradations
of any particular planet.
An object, which was then considered as of
great importance to astronomy, was thus accom¬
plished, viz. the production of a variable motion,
or one which was continually changing both its
rate and its direction from two uniform circular
motions, each of which preserved always the
same quantity and the same direction.
It was not long before another application was
made of the method of epicycles. Hipparchus,
the greatest astronomer of antiquity, and one of
the inventors in science most justly entitled to
admiration, discovered the inequality of the sun’s
apparent motion round the earth. To explain
or to express this irregularity, the same observer
imagined an epicycle of a small radius with its
centre moving uniformly in the circumference
of a large circle, of which the earth was the
centre, while the sun revolved in the circumfer¬
ence of the small circle with the same angular
velocity as this last, but in a contrary direction.
As other irregularities in the motions of the
moon and of the planets were observed, other
epicycles were introduced; and Ptolemy, in his
Almagest, enumerated all which then appeared
necessary, and assigned to them such dimensions
as enabled them to express the phenomena with
accuracy. It is not to be denied that the sys¬
tem of the heavens became in this way extreme¬
ly complicated ; though, when fairly examined,
it will appear to be a work of great ingenuity
and research. The ancients, indeed, may be re¬
garded as very fortunate in the contrivance ot
epicycles, because, by means of them, every in¬
equality which can exist in the angular motion
of a planet may be at least nearly represented.
This I call fortunate, because, at the time when
Apollonius introduced the epicycle, he had no
idea of the extent to which his contrivance would
go, as he could have none of the conclusions
which the author of the Mecanique Celeste was
to deduce from the principle of gravitation.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
483
The same contrivance had another great ad¬
vantage ; it subjected the motions of the sun, the
moon, and the planets, very readily to a geome¬
trical construction, or an arithmetical calcula¬
tion, neither of them difficult. By this means
the predictions of astronomical phenomena, the
calculation of tables, and the comparison of
those tables with observation, became matters
of great facility, on which facility, in a great
measure, the progress of the science depended.
It was on these circumstances, much more than
on the simplicity with which it amused or de¬
ceived the imagination, that the popularity of
this theory was founded,—the ascendant which
it gained over the minds of astronomers, and the
resistance which, in spite of facts and observa¬
tions, it was so long able to make to the true
system of the world.
It does not appear that the ancient astrono¬
mers ever considered the epicycles and deferents
which they employed in their system as having
a physical existence, or as serving to explain the
causes of the celestial motions. They seem to
have considered them merely as mathematical
diagrams, serving to express or to represent those
motions as geometidcal expressions of certain
general facts, which readily furnished the rules
of astronomical calculation.
The language in which Ptolemy speaks of the
epicycles is not a little curious, and very con¬
formable to the notion, that he considered them
as merely the means of expressing a general law.
After laying down the hypothesis of certain epi¬
cycles, and their dimensions, it is usual with him
to add, 44 these suppositions will save the pheno¬
mena.” Saxe is the literal translation of the
Greek word, which is always a part of the verb
2w£e/v, or some of its compounds. Thus, in treat¬
ing of certain phenomena in the moon’s motion,
he lays down two hypotheses, by either of which
they may be expressed ; and he concludes, 44 in
this way the similitude of the ratios, and the pro¬
portionality of the times, will be saved {hia.GuZpimi)
on both suppositions.” 1 It is plain, from these
words, that the astronomer did not here consi¬
der himself as describing any thing which ac¬
tually existed, but as explaining two artifices,
by either of which, certain irregularities in the
moon’s motion may be represented, in consist¬
ence with the principle of uniform velocity. The
hypothesis does not relate to the explanation,
but merely to the expression of the fact; it is
first assumed, and its merit is then judged of
synthetically, by its power to save, to reconcile,
or to represent appearances. At a time when
the mathematical sciences extended little beyond
the elements, and when problems which could
not be resolved by circles and straight lines
could hardly be resolved at all, such artifices as
the preceding were of the greatest value. They
were even more valuable than the truth itself
would have been in such circumstances; and
nothing is more certain than that the real
elliptical orbits of the planets, and the uni¬
form description of areas, would have been
very unseasonable discoveries at the period
we are now treating of. The hypotheses of epi¬
cycles and of centres of uniform motion were
well accommodated to the state of science,
and are instances of a false system which has
materially contributed to the establishment of
truth.
1 Mathematica Syntaxis, lib. iv. p. 223 of the Paris edition Milton, the extent and accuracy of whose erudition can
never be too much admired, had probably in view this phraseology of Ptolemy, when he wrote the loilowing lines:
 He his fabric of the Heavens
Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move
His laughter at their quaint opinions wide
Hereafter, when they come to model Heaven
And calculate the stars, how they will wield
The mighty frame, how build, unbuild, contrive
To save appearances, how gird the sphere
With centrick and eccentrick scribbled o’er,
Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb. . , . . , v
The obsolete verb to salve is employed by Bacon, and many others of the old English writers, in the same sense with
in the work of Ptolemv here referred to. “ The schoolmen were like the astronomers, who, to salve phenomena, framed to
their conceit eccentricks and epicycles; so they, to salve the practice of the church, had devised a great number ot stra g
positions.” (Bacon.)
484
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
2. COPERNICUS AND TYCHO.
On the revival of learning in Europe, astro¬
nomy was the first of the sciences which was re¬
generated. Such, indeed, is the beauty and
usefulness of this branch of knowledge, that, in
the thickest darkness of the middle ages, the
study of it was never entirely abandoned. In
those times of ignorance, it also derived addi¬
tional credit from the assistance which it seem¬
ed to give to an imaginary and illusive science.
Astrology, which has exercised so durable and
extensive a dominion over the human mind, is
coeval with the first observations of astronomy.
In the middle ages, remarkable for the mixture
of a few fragments of knowledge and truth in a
vast mass of ignorance and error, it was assi¬
duously cultivated, and, in conjunction with
alchemy and magic, shared the favour of the
people, and the patronage of the great. During
the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, it was
taught in the universities of Italy, and professors
were appointed, at Padua and Bologna, to in¬
struct their pupils in the influence of the stars.
Everywhere through Europe the greatest respect
was shown for this system of imposture; and
they who saw the deceit most clearly, could not
always avoid the disgrace of being the instru¬
ments of it. Astronomy, however, profited by
the illusion, and was protected for the great as¬
sistance which it seemed to afford to a science
more important than itself.
Of those who cultivated astronomy, many
were infected by this weakness, though some
were completely superior to it. Alphonso, the
King of Castile, was among the latter. He
flourished about the middle of the thirteenth
century, and was remarkable for such freedom
of thought, and such boldness of language, as it
required his royal dignity to protect. He ap¬
plied himself diligently to the study of astrono-
my; he perceived the inaccuracy of Ptolemy’s
tables, and endeavoured to correct their errors
by new tables of his own. These, in the course
ot the next age, were found to have receded from
the heavens, and it became more and more evi¬
dent that astronomers had not yet discovered
the secret of the celestial motions.
Two of the men who, in the fifteenth century,
contributed the most to the advancement of as¬
tronomical science, Purbach and Regiomonta¬
nus, were distinguished also for their general
knowledge of the Mathematics. Purbach was
fixed at Vienna by the patronage of the Em¬
peror Frederick the Third, and devoted himself
to astronomical observation. He published a
new edition of the Almagest, and, though he
neither understood Greek nor Arabic, his know¬
ledge of the subject enabled him to make it
much more perfect than any of the former trans¬
lations. He is said to have been the first who
applied the plummet to astronomical instru¬
ments ; but this must not be understood strictly,
for some of Ptolemy’s instruments, the parallac¬
tic for instance, were placed perpendicularly by
the plumb-line.
Regiomontanus was the disciple of Purbach,
and is still more celebrated than his master. He
was a man of great learning and genius, most
ardent for the advancement of knowledge, and
particularly devoted to astronomy. To him we
owe the introduction of decimal fractions, which
completed our arithmetical notation, and form¬
ed the second of the three steps by which, in
modern times, the science of numbers has been
so greatly improved.
In the list of distinguished astronomers, the
name of Copernicus comes next, and stands at
the head of those men who, bursting the fetters
of prejudice and authority, have established
truth on the basis of experience and observation.
He was born at Thorn in Prussia, in 1473; he
studied at the University of Cracow, being in¬
tended at first for a physician, though he after¬
wards entered into the church. A decided taste
for astronomy led him early to the study of the
science in which he was destined to make such
an entire revolution; and as soon as he found him¬
self fixed and independent, he became a diligent
and careful observer.
It would be in the highest degree interesting
to know by what steps he was led to conceive
the bold system which removes the earth from
the centre of the world, and ascribes to it a two-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
485
fold motion. It is probable that the complica¬
tion of so many epicycles and deferents as were
necessary, merely to express the laws of the
planetary motions, had induced him to think of
all the possible suppositions which could be em¬
ployed for the same purpose, in order to discover
which of them was the simplest.
It appears extraordinary, that so natural a
thought should have occurred, at so late a period,
for the first, or nearly for the first time. We
are assured by Copernicus himself, that one of
the first considerations which offered itself to
his mind, was the effect produced by the motion
of a spectator, in transferring that motion to
the objects observed, but ascribing to it an op¬
posite direction.1 From this principle it imme¬
diately followed, that the rotation of the earth
on an axis, from west to east, would produce the
apparent motion of the heavens in the direction
from east to west.
In considering some of the objections which
might be made to the system of the earth’s mo¬
tion, Copernicus reasons with great soundness,
though he is not aware of the full force of his
own argument. Ptolemy had alleged, that if
the earth were to revolve on its axis, the violence
of the motion would be sufficient to tear it in
pieces, and to dissipate the parts. This argu¬
ment, it is evident, proceeds on a confused notion
of a centrifugal force, the effect of which the
Egyptian astronomer overrated, as much as he
undervalued the firmness and solidity of the
earth. Why, says Copernicus, was he not more
alarmed for the safety of the heavens, if the diur¬
nal revolution be ascribed to them, as their mo¬
tion must be more rapid, in proportion as their
magnitude is greater ? The argument here sug¬
gested, now that we know how to measure centri¬
fugal force, and to compare it with others, carries
demonstrative evidence with it; because that
force, if the diurnal revolution were really per¬
formed by the heavens, would be such as the
forces which hold together the frame of the ma¬
terial world would be wholly unable to resist.
There are, however, in the reasonings of Co¬
pernicus, some unsound parts, which show, that
the power of his genius was not able to dispel all
the clouds which in that age hung over the hu¬
man mind, and that the unfounded distinctions
of the Aristotelian Physics sometimes afforded
arguments equally fallacious to him and to his
adversaries. One of his most remarkable physi¬
cal mistakes was his misconception with respect
to the parallelism of the earth’s axis; to account
for which, he thought it necessary to assume, in
addition to the earth’s rotation on an axis, and
revolution round the sun, the existence of a third
motion altogether distinct from either of the
others. In this he was mistaken; the axis na¬
turally retains its parallelism, and it would re¬
quire the action of a force to make it do other¬
wise. This, as Kepler afterwards remarked, is
a consequence of the inertia of matter; and, for
that reason, he very justly accused Copernicus
of not being fully acquainted with his own
riches.
The first edition of the Astronomia Instaurata,
the publication of which was solicited by Cardi¬
nal Schoenberg, and the book itself dedicated to
the Pope, appeared in 1543, a few days before
the death of the author. Throughout the whole
book, the new doctrine was advanced with great
caution, as if from a presentiment of the opposi¬
tion and injustice which it was one day to ex¬
perience. At first, however, the system attract¬
ed little notice, and was rejected by the greater
part even of astronomers. It lay fermenting in
secret with other new discoveries for more than
fifty years, till, by the exertions of Galileo, it
was kindled into so bright a flame as to consume
the philosophy of Aristotle, to alarm the hierar¬
chy of Rome, and to threaten the existence of
every opinion not founded on experience and
observation.
After Copernicus, Tycho Brahe was the most
distinguished astronomer of the sixteenth centu¬
ry. An eclipse of the sun which he witnessed
in 1560, when he was yet a very young man,
by the exactness with which it answered to the
prediction, impressed him with the greatest re¬
verence for a science which could see so far and
so distinctly into the future; and from that mo¬
ment he was seized with the strongest desire of
becoming acquainted with it. Here, indeed, was
1 Astronomia Instaurata, lib. i. cap. v.
486
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
called into action a propensity nearly allied both
to the strength and the weakness of the mind of
this extraordinary man; the same that attached
him, on one hand, to the calculations of astrono¬
my, and, on the other, to the predictions of judi¬
cial astrology.
In yielding himself up, however, to his love
of astronomy, he found that he had several diffi¬
culties to overcome. He belonged to a class in
society elevated, in the opinion of that age, above
the pursuit of knowledge, and jealous of the pri¬
vilege of remaining ignorant with impunity.
Tycho was of a noble family in Denmark, so
that it required all the enthusiasm and firmness
inspired by the love of knowledge, to set him
above the prejudices of hereditary rank, and the
opposition of his relations. He succeeded, how¬
ever, in these objects, and also in obtaining the
patronage of the King of Denmark, by which he
was enabled to erect an observatory, and form an
establish ment in the island of Huen, such as
had never yet been dedicated to astronomy.
The instruments were of far greater size, more
skilfully contrived, and more nicely divided,
than any that had yet been directed to the
heavens. By means of them, Tycho could mea¬
sure angles to ten seconds, which may be ac¬
counted sixty times the accuracy of the instru¬
ments of Ptolemy, or of any that had belonged
to the school of Alexandria.
Among the improvements which he made in
the art of astronomical observation, was that of
verifying the instruments, or determining their
errors by actual observation, instead of trusting,
as had been hitherto done, to the supposed infal¬
libility of the original construction.
One of the first objects to which the Danish
astronomer applied himself, was the formation
of a new catalogue of the fixed stars. That
which was begun by Hipparchus, and continued
by Ptolemy, did not give the places of the stars
with an accuracy nearly equal to that which the
new instruments were capable of reaching; and
it was, besides, desirable to know whether the
lapse of twelve centuries had produced any un¬
foreseen changes in the heavens.
The great difficulty in the execution of this
work arose from the want of a direct and easy
method of ascertaining the distance of one heav¬
enly body due east or west of another. The
distance north or south, either from one another
or from a fixed plane, that of the equator, was
easily determined by the common method of
meridian altitudes, the equator being a plane
which, for any given place on the earth’s sur¬
face, retains always the same position. But no
plane extending from north to south, or passing
through the poles, retains a fixed position with
respect to an observer; and, therefore, the same
way of measuring distances from such a plane
cannot be applied. The natural substitute is
the measure of time; the interval between the
passage of two stars over the meridian, bear¬
ing the same proportion to twenty-four hours,
that the arch winch measures their distance
perpendicular to the mei’idian, or their dif¬
ference of right ascension, does to four right
angles.
An accurate measure of time, therefore, would
answer the purpose; but such a measure no more
existed in the age of Tycho, than it had done in
the days of Hipparchus or Ptolemy. These an¬
cient astronomers determined the longitude of
the fixed stars by referring their places to those
of the moon, the longitude of which, for a given
time, was known from the theory of her motions.
Thus they were forced to depend on the most
irregular of all the bodies in the heavens, for
ascertaining the positions of the most fixed,
those which ought to have been the basis of the
former, and of so many other determinations.
Tycho made use of the planet Venus instead of
the moon; and his method, though more tedious,
was more accurate than that of the Greek astron¬
omers. His catalogue contained the places of
'777 fixed stars.
The irregularities of the moon’s motions were
his next subjects of inquiry. The ancients had
discovered the inequality of that planet depend¬
ing on the eccentricity of the orbit, the same
which is now called the equation of the centre.1
Ptolemy had added the knowledge of another
1 The allowance made for any such equality, when the place of a planet is to be computed for a given time, is called an
equation in the language of astronomy.
DISSERTATION THIRD. 487
inequality in the moon’s motion, to which the
name of the evection has been given, amounting
to an increase of the former equation at the
quarters, and a diminution of it at the times of
new and full moon. Tycho discovered another
inequality, which is greatest at the octants, and
depends on the difference between the longitude
of the moon and that of the sun. A fourth irre¬
gularity to which the moon’s motion is subject,
depending wholly on the sun’s place, was known
to Tycho, but included among the sun’s equa¬
tions. Besides, these observations made him
acquainted with the changes in the inclination
of the plane of the moon’s orbit; and, lastly,
with the irregular motion of the nodes, which,
instead of being always retrograde at the same
rate, are subject to change that rate, and even
to become progressive according to their situa¬
tion in respect of the sun. These are the only
inequalities of the moon’s motion known before
the theory of Gravitation, and, except the first
two, are all the discoveries of Tycho.
The atmospherical refraction, by which the
heavenly bodies are made to appear more ele¬
vated above the horizon than they really are,
was suspected before the time of this astrono¬
mer, but not known with certainty to exist.
He first became acquainted with it by finding
that the latitude of his observatory, as deter¬
mined from observations at the solstices, and
from observations of the greatest and least alti¬
tudes of the circumpolar stars, always differed
about four minutes. The effect of refraction he
supposed to be 34' at the horizon, and to dimi¬
nish from thence upward, till at 45° it ceased
altogether. This last supposition is erroneous,
but at 45® the refraction is less than T, and pro¬
bably was not sensible in the altitudes measured
with his instruments, or not distinguishable
from the errors of observation. An instrument
which he contrived on purpose to make the re¬
fraction distinctly visible, shows the scale on
which his observatory was furnished. It was
an equatorial circle of ten feet diameter, turn¬
ing on an axis parallel to that of the earth. With
the sights of this equatorial he followed the sun
on the day of the summer solstice, and found,
that as it descended towards the horizon, it rose
above the plane of the instrument. At its set¬
ting, the sun was raised above the horizon by
more than its own diameter.
The comet of 1570 was carefully observed by
Tycho, and gave rise to a new theory of those
bodies. He found the horizontal parallax to be
2(f, so that the comet was nearly three times as
far off as the moon. He considered comets,
therefore, as bodies placed far beyond the reach
of our atmosphere, and moving round the sun.
This was a severe blow to the Physics of Aris¬
totle, which regarded comets as meteors gener¬
ated in the atmosphere. His observation of the
new star in 1572 was no less hostile to the argu¬
ment of the same philosopher, which maintained,
that the heavens are a region in which there is
neither generation nor corruption, and in which
existence has neither a beginning nor an end.
Yet Tycho, with this knowledge of astronomy,
and after having made observations more nume¬
rous and accurate than all the astronomers who
went before him, continued to reject the system
of Copernicus, and to deny the motion of the
earth. He was, however, convinced that the
earth is not the centre about which the planets
revolve; for he had himself observed Mars,
when in opposition, to be nearer to the earth
than the earth was to the sun; so that, if the
planets were ranged as in the Ptolemaic system,
the orbit of Mars must have been within the
orbit of* the sun. He therefore imagined the
system still known by his name, according to
which the sun moves round the earth, and is at
the same time the centre of the planetary mo¬
tions. It cannot be denied, that the phenomena
purely ^astronomical may be accounted tor on
this hypothesis, and that the objections to it are
rather derived from physical and mechanical
considerations than from the appearances them¬
selves. It is simpler than the Ptolemaic sys¬
tem, and free from its inconsistencies; but it is
more complex than the Copernican, and in no
respect affords a better explanation of the phe¬
nomena. The true place of the Tychonic sys¬
tem is between the two former; an advance be¬
yond the one, and a step short of the other; and
such, if the progress of discovery were always
perfectly regular, is the place which it would
have occupied in the history of the science. It
Tycho had lived before Copernicus, his system
488
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
would have been a step in the advancement of
knowledge; coming after him, it was a step
backward.
It is not to his credit as a philosopher to have
made this retrograde movement, yet he is not
altogether without apology. The physical argu¬
ments in favour of the Copernican system,
founded on the incongruity of supposing the
greater body to move round the smaller, might
not be supposed to have much weight, in an age
when the equality of action and reaction was
unknown, and when it was not clearly under¬
stood that the sun and the planets act at all on
one another. The arguments which seem, in
the judgment of Tycho, to have balanced the
simplicity of the Copernican system, were found¬
ed on certain texts of Scripture, and on the
difficulty of reconciling the motion of the earth
with the sensations which we experience at its
surface, or the phenomena which we observe,
the same, in all respects, as if the earth were
at rest. The experiments and reasonings of
Galileo had not yet instructed men in the inertia
of matter, or in the composition of motion; and
the followers of Copernicus reasoned on prin¬
ciples which they held in common with their
adversaries. A ball, it was said by the latter,
dropt from the mast-head of a ship under sail,
does not fall at the foot of the mast, but some¬
what behind it; and in the same manner, a
stone dropt from a high tower would not fall,
on the supposition of the earth’s motion, at the
bottom of the tower, but to the west of it, the
earth, during its fall, having gone eastward from
under it. The followers of Copernicus were
not yet provided with the true answer to this
objection, viz. that the ball does actually fall at
the bottom of the mast. It was admitted that
it must fall behind it, because the ball was no
part of the ship, and that the motion forward
was not natural, either to the ship or to the
ball. The stone, on the other hand, let fall
from the top of the tower, was a part of the
earth, and therefore the diurnal and annual
revolutions which were natural to the earth
were also natural to the stone; the stone would
therefore retain the same motion with the tower,
and strike the ground precisely at the bottom of it.
It must be confessed, that neither of these
logicians had yet thoroughly awakened from the
dreams of the Aristotelian metaphysics; but
men were now in possession of the truth, which
was finally to break the spell, and set the mind
free from the fetters of prejudice and authority.
Another charge, against which it is more difficult
to defend Tycho, is his belief in the predictions of
astrology. He even wrote a treatise in defence of
this imaginary art, and regulated his conduct
continually by its precepts. Credulity, so un¬
worthy of a man deeply versed in real science, is
certainly to be set down less to his own account
than to that of the age in which he lived.
3. KEPLER AND GALILEO.
Kepler followed Tycho, and in his hands
astronomy underwent a change only second to
that which it had undergone in the hands of
Copernicus. He was born in 1571. He early
applied himself to study and observe the heavens,
and was soon distinguished as an inventor. He
began with taking a more accurate view of
astronomical refraction than had yet been done,
and he appears to have been the first who con¬
ceived that there must be a certain fixed law
which determined the quantity of it, correspond¬
ing to every altitude, from the horizon to the
zenith. The application of the principles of op¬
tics to astronomy, and the accurate distinction
between the optical and real inequalities of the
planets, are the work of the same astronomer.
It was by the views thus presented that he was
led to the method of constructing and calculating
eclipses by means of projections, without taking
into consideration the diurnal parallax. These
are valuable improvements, but they were, how¬
ever, obscured by the greatness of his future
discoveries.
The planes of the orbits of the planets were
naturally, in the Ptolemaic system, supposed to
pass through the earth; and the reformation of
Copernicus did not go so far as to change the
notions on that subject which had generally been
adopted. Kepler observed that the orbits of the
planets are in planes passing through the sun,
DISSERTATION THIRD.
489
and that, of consequence, the iines of their
nodes all intersect in the centre of that lumi¬
nary. This discovery contributed essentially to
those which followed.
The oppositions of the planets, or their places
when they pass the meridian at midnight, offer
the most favourable opportunities for observing
them, both because they are at that time nearest
to the earth, and because their places seen from
thence are the same as if they were seen from the
sun. The true time of the opposition had how¬
ever been, till now, mistaken by astronomers,
who held it to be at the moment when the appa¬
rent place of the planet was opposite to the mean
place of the sun. It ought, however, to have
been, when the apparent places of both were op¬
posed to one another. This reformation was
proposed by Kepler, and, though strenuously
resisted by Tycho, was finally received.
Having undertaken to examine the orbit of
Mars, in which the irregularities are most con¬
siderable, Kepler discovered, by comparing to¬
gether seven oppositions of that planet, that its
orbit is elliptical; that the sun is placed in one
of the foci; and that there is no point round
which the angular motion is uniform. In the
pursuit of this inquiry he found that the same
thing is true of the earth’s orbit round the sun:
hence by analogy it was reasonable to think,
that all the planetary orbits are elliptical, hav¬
ing the sun in their common focus.
The industry and patience of Kepler, in this
investigation, were not less remarkable than his
ingenuity and invention. Logarithms were not
yet known, so that arithmetical computation,
when pushed to great accuracy, was carried on
at a vast expense of time and labour. In the
calculation of every opposition of Mars, the
work filled ten folio pages, and Kepler repeated
each calculation ten times, so that the whole
work for each opposition extended to one hun-
dred such pages : seven oppositions thus calcu¬
lated produced a large folio volume.
In these calculations the introduction of hy¬
potheses was unavoidable, and Kepler’s candour
in rejecting them, whenever they appeared er¬
roneous, without any other regret than for the
time which they had cost him, cannot be suffi¬
ciently admired. He began with hypothesis,
mss. in. PART i.
and ended with rejecting every thing hypotheti¬
cal. In this great astronomer we find genius,
industry, and candour, all uniting together as
instruments of investigation.
Though the angular motion of the planet was
not found to be uniform, it was discovered that
a very simple law connected that motion with
the rectilineal distance from the sun, the former
being everywhere inversely as the square of
the latter; and hence it was easy to prove, that
the area described by the line drawn from the
planet to the sun increased at a uniform rate,
and, therefore, that any two such areas were
proportional to the times in which they were
described. The picture presented of the heavens
was thus, for the first time, cleared of every
thing hypothetical.
The same astronomer was perhaps the first
person who conceived that there must be always
a law capable of being expressed by arithmetic
or geometry, which connects such phenomena
as have a physical dependence on one another.
His conviction of this truth, and the delight
which he appears to have experienced in the
contemplation of such laws, led him to seek,
with great eagerness, for the relation between
the periodical times of the planets and their
distances from the sun. He seems, indeed, to
have looked towards this object with such ear¬
nestness, that, while it was not attained, he re¬
garded all his other discoveries as incomplete.
He at last found, infinitely to his satisfaction,
that in any two planets the squares of the times
of the revolution are as the cubes of their mean
distances from the sun. This beautiful and
simple law had a value beyond what Kepler
could possibly conceive; yet a sort of scientific
instinct instructed him in its great importance.
He has marked the year and the day when it
became known to him; it was on the 8th of
May 1618; and perhaps philosophers will agree
that there are few days in tlie scientific history
of the world which deserve so well to be remem¬
bered.
These great discoveries, however, were not
much attended to by the astronomers of that
period, or by those who immediately followed.
They were but little considered by Gassendi,—
they were undervalued by Riccioli,—and were
3 2
490
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
never mentioned by Descartes. It was an ho¬
nour reserved for Newton to estimate them at
their true value.
Indeed the discoveries of Kepler were at first
so far from being duly appreciated, that they
were objected to, not for being false, hut for of-
ferinsr to astronomers, in the calculation of the
place of a planet in its orbit, a problem too dif¬
ficult to he resolved by elementary geometry.
To cut the area of a semi-ellipsis in a given ratio
by a line drawn through the focus, is the geo¬
metrical problem into which he showed that the
above inquiry ultimately resolved. As if he had
been answerable for the proceedings of nature,
the difficulty of this question was considered as
an argument against his theory, and be himself
seems somewhat to have felt it as an objection,
especially when he found that the best solution
he could obtain was no more than an approxi¬
mation. With all his power of invention, Kep¬
ler was a mathematician inferior to many of
that period ; and though he displayed great abi¬
lity in the management of this difficult investi¬
gation, his solution fell very far short of the
simplicity which it was afterwards found ca¬
pable of attaining.
In addition to all this, he rendered another
very important service to the science of astro¬
nomy and to the system of Copernicus. Coper¬
nicus, it has been already mentioned, had sup¬
posed that a force was necessary to enable the
earth to preserve the parallelism of its axis du¬
ring its revolution round the sun. He imagined,
therefore, that a third motion belonged to the
earth, and that, besides turning on its axis and
revolving round the sun, it had another move¬
ment by which its axis was preserved always
equally inclined to the ecliptic. Kepler was the
first to observe that this third motion was quite
superfluous, and that the parallelism of the
earth’s axis, in order to be preserved, required
nothing but the absence of all force, as it neces¬
sarily proceeded from the inertia of matter, and
its tendency to persevere in a state of uniform
motion. Kepler had a clear idea of the inertia
of body; he was the first who employed the
term; and, considering all motion as naturally
rectilineal, he concluded that when a body moves
in a curve, it is drawn or forced out of the
straight line by the action of some cause, not
residing in itself. Thus he prepared the way
for physical astronomy, and in these ideas he
was earlier than Descartes.
The discoveries of Kepler were secrets extort¬
ed from nature by the most profound and labo¬
rious research. The astronomical discoveries of
Galileo, more brilliant and imposing, were made
at a far less expense of intellectual labour. By
this it is not meant to say that Galileo did not
possess, and did not exert, intellectual powers of
the very highest order; but it was less in his
astronomical discoveries that he had occasion to
exert them, than in those which concerned the
theory of motion. The telescope, turned to the
heavens for the first time, in the hands of a man
far inferior to the Italian philosopher, must have
unfolded a series of wonders to astonish and
delight the world.
It was in the year 1609 that the news of a
discovery, made in Holland, reached Galileo,
viz. that two glasses had been so combined as
greatly to magnify the objects seen through them.
More was not told, and more was not necessary
to awaken a mind abundantly alive to all that
interested the progress either of science or of art.
Galileo applied himself to try various combina¬
tions of lenses, and he quickly fell on one which
made objects appear greater than when seen by
the naked eye, in the proportion of three to one.
He soon improved on this construction, and
found one which magnified thirty-two times,
nearly as much as the kind of telescope he used
is capable of. That telescope was formed of two
lenses; the lens next the object convex, the other
concave; the objects were presented upright,
and magnified in their lineal dimensions in the
proportion just assigned.
Having tried the effect of this combination on
terrestrial objects, he next directed it to the
moon. What the telescope discovers on the
ever-varying face of that luminary, is now well
known, and needs not to be described; but the
sensations which the view must have communi¬
cated to the philosopher who first beheld it, may
be conceived more easily than expressed. To
the immediate impression wdiich they made upon
the sense, to the wonder they excited in all who
sawT them, was added the proof, which, on re-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
491
flection, they afforded, of the close resemblance
between the earth and the celestial bodies, whose
divine nature had been so long and so errone¬
ously contrasted with the ponderous and opaque
substance of our globe. The earth and the planets
were now proved to be bodies of the same kind,
and views were entertained of the universe,
more suitable to the simplicity and the magni¬
ficence of nature.
When the same philosopher directed his tele¬
scope to the fixed stars, if he was disappointed
at finding their magnitudes not increased, he was
astonished and delighted to find them multiplied
in so great a degree, and such numbers brought
into view, which were invisible to the naked eye.
In Jupiter he perceived a large disk, approach¬
ing in size to the moon. Near it, as he saw it
for the first time, were three luminous points
ranged in a straight line, two of them on one
side of the planet, and one on the other. This
occasioned no surprise, for they might be small
stars not visible to the naked eye, such as he
had already discovered in great numbers. By
observing them, however, night after night, he
found these small stars to be four in number,
and to be moons or satellites, accompanying
Jupiter, and revolving round him, as the moon
revolves round the earth.
The eclipses of these satellites, their conjunc¬
tions with the planet, their disappearance behind
his disk, their periodical revolutions, and the
very problem of distinguishing them from one
another, offered, to an astronomer, a series of
new and interesting observations.
In Saturn he saw one large disk, with two
smaller ones very near it, and diametrically op¬
posite, and always seen in the same places; but
more powerful telescopes were required before
these appearances could be interpreted.
The horned figure of Venus, and the gibbosi¬
ty of Mars, added to the evidence of the Coper-
nican system, and verified the conjectures of its
author, who had ventured to say, that, if the
sense of sight were sufficiently powerful, we
should see Mercury and Venus exhibiting phases
similar to those of the moon.
The spots of the sun derived an interest from
their contrast with the luminous disk over which
they seemed to pass. They were found to have
such regular periods of return as could be de¬
rived only from the motion of the disk itself;
and thus the sun’s revolution on his axis, and
the time of that revolution, were clearly ascer¬
tained.
This succession of noble discoveries, the most
splendid, probably, which it ever fell to the lot
of one individual to make, in a better age would
have entitled its author to the admiration and
gratitude of the whole scientific world, but was
now viewed from several quarters with suspicion
and jealousy. The ability and success with
which Galileo had laboured to overturn the doc¬
trines of Aristotle and the schoolmen, as well as
to establish the motion of the earth and the im¬
mobility of the sun, had excited many enemies.
There are always great numbers who, from
habit, indolence, or fear, are the determined sup¬
porters of what is established, whether in prac¬
tice or in opinion. To these the constitution of
the universities of Europe, so entirely subjected
to the church, had added a numerous and learn¬
ed phalanx, interested to preserve the old sys¬
tems, and to resist all innovations which could
endanger their authority or their repose. The
church itself was roused to action, by reflecting
that it had staked the infallibility of its judg¬
ments on the truth of the very opinions which
were now in danger of being overthrown. Thus
was formed a vast combination of men, not very
scrupulous about the means which they used to
annoy their adversaries : the power was entirely
in their hands, and there was nothing but truth
and reason to be opposed to it.
The system of Copernicus, however, while it
remained obscure, and known only to astrono¬
mers, created no alarm in the church. It had
even been ushered into the world at the solici¬
tation of a cardinal, and under the patronage of
the Pope; but when it became more popular,
when the ability and acuteness of Galileo were
enlisted on its side, the consequences became
alarming; and it was determined to silence by
force an adversary who could not be put down
by argument. His Dialogues contained a full
exposition of the evidence of the earth’s motion,
and set forth the errors of the old, as well as the
discoveries of the new philosophy, with great
force of-reasoning, and with the charms of the
492
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
most lively eloquence. They are written, in¬
deed, with such singular felicity, that one reads
them at the present day, when the truths con¬
tained in them are known and admitted, with
all the delight of novelty, and feels one’s self
carried back to the period when the telescope
was first directed to the heavens, and when the
earth’s motion, with all its train of consequences,
was proved for the first time. The author of
such a work could not be forgiven. Galileo, ac¬
cordingly, was twice brought before the Inqui¬
sition. The first time a council of seven car¬
dinals pronounced a sentence which, for the
sake of those disposed to belieAre that power can
subdue truth, ought never to be forgotten:
“ That to maintain the sun to be immovable,
and without local motion, in the centre of the
world, is an absurd proposition, false in philo¬
sophy, heretical in religion, and contrary to the
testimony of Scripture. That it is equally ab¬
surd and false in philosophy to assert that the
earth is not immovable in the centre of the
world, and, considered theologically, equally er¬
roneous and heretical.”
These seven theologians might think them¬
selves officially entitled to decide on what was
heretical or orthodox in faith; but, that they
should determine what was true or false in phi¬
losophy, was an insolent invasion of a territory
into which they had no right to enter, and is a
proof how ready men are to suppose themselves
wise, merely because they happen to be power¬
ful. At this time a promise was extorted from
Galileo, that he would not teach the doctrine of
the earth’s motion, either by speaking or by
writing. To this promise he did not conform.
His third dialogue, published, though not till long
afterwards, contained such a full display of the
beauty and simplicity of the new system, and such
an exposure of the inconsistencies of Ptolemy and
Tycho, as completed the triumph of Copernicus.
In the year 1683, Galileo, now seventy years
old, being brought before the Inquisition, was
forced solemnly to disavow his belief in the
earth’s motion; and condemned to perpetual
imprisonment, though the sentence was after¬
wards mitigated, and he was allowed to return
to Florence.1 The Court of Rome was very
careful to publish this second recantation all
over Europe, thinking, no doubt, that it was ad¬
ministering a complete antidote to the belief of
the Copernican system. The sentence, indeed,
appears to have pressed very heavily on Galileo’s
mind, and he never afterwards either talked or
wrote on the subject of astronomy. Such was
the triumph of his enemies, on whom ample
vengeance would have long ago been executed,
if the indignation and contempt of posterity
could reach the mansions of the dead.
Conduct like this, in men professing to be the
ministers of religion and the guardians of truth,
can give rise to none but the most painful re¬
flections. That an aged philosopher should be
forced, laying his hand on the sacred Scriptures,
to disavow opinions which he could not cease to
hold without ceasing to think, was as much a
profanation of religion as a violation of truth
and justice. Was it the act of hypocrites, who
considered religion as a state engine, or of bigots,
long trained in the art of believing without evi¬
dence, or even in opposition to it ? These ques¬
tions it were unnecessary to resolve; but one
conclusion cannot be denied, that the indiscreet
defenders of religion have often proved its worst
enemies.
At length, however, by the improvements,
the discoveries, and the reasonings, first of Kep¬
ler, and then of Galileo, the evidence of the Co¬
pernican system was fully developed, and no¬
thing was wanting to its complete establishment
but time sufficient to allow opinion to come gra¬
dually round, and to give men an opportunity
of studying the arguments placed before them.
Of the adherents of the old system, many had
been too long habituated to it to change their
views ; but as they disappeared from the scene,
they were replaced by young astronomers, not
under the influence of the same prejudices, and
eager to follow doctrines which seemed to offer
so many new subjects of investigation. In the
1 He was thrown into prison previously to his trial, and attempts were made to render him obnoxious to the people.
From the text of a priest who preached against him, we may judge of the wit and the sense with which this persecution was
conducted: 1 iri Gulilxi, quid statis in coelum susjjicientes^
DISSERTATION THIRD.
493
next generation the systems of Ptolemy and
Tycho had no followers.
It was not astronomy alone which was be¬
nefited by this revolution, and the discussions
to which it had given rise. A new light, as al¬
ready remarked, was thrown on the physical
world, and the curtain was drawn aside which
had so long concealed the great experiment, by
which nature herself manifests, at every in¬
stant, the inertia of body, and the composition
of forces. To reconcile the real motion of the
earth with its appearance of rest and with our
feeling of its immobility, required such an exa¬
mination of the nature of motion as discovered,
if not its essence, at least its "most general and
fundamental properties. The whole science of
rational mechanics profited, therefore, essential¬
ly by the discovery of the earth’s motion.
A great barrier to philosophic improvement
had arisen from the separation so early made,
and so strenuously supported in the ancient
systems, between terrestrial and celestial sub¬
stances, and between the laws which regulate
motion on the earth and in the heavens. This
harrier was now entirely removed; the earth
was elevated to the rank of a planet; the planets
were reduced to the condition of earths; and by
this mutual approach, the same rules of inter¬
pretation became applicable to the phenomena
of both. Principles derived from experiments
on the earth, became guides for the analysis of
the heavens; and men were now in a situation
to undertake investigations, which the most
hardy adventurer in science could not before have
dared to imagine. Philosophers had ascended
to the knowledge of the affinities which pervade
all nature, and which mark so strongly both
the wisdom and unity of its author.
The light thus struck out darted its rays into
regions the most remote from physical inquiry.
When men saw opinions entirely disproved,
which were sanctioned by all antiquity, and by
the authority of the greatest names, they began
to have different notions of the rules of evi¬
dence, of the principles of philosophic inquiry,
and of the nature of the mind itself. It ap¬
peared that science was destined to be continu¬
ally progressive; provided it was taken for
an inviolable maxim, that all opinion must
be ultimately amenable to experience and obser¬
vation.
It was no slight addition to all these advan¬
tages, that, in consequence of the discussions
from which Galileo had unhappily been so great
a sufferer, the line was at length definitely drawn
which was to separate the provinces of faith and
philosophy from one another. It became a prin¬
ciple, recognised on all hands, that revelation,
not being intended to inform men of those
things which the unassisted powers of their own
understanding would in time be able to discover,
had, in speaking of such matters, employed the
language and adopted the opinions of the times;
and thus the magic circle, by which the priest
had endeavoured to circumscribe the inquiries
of the philosopher, entirely disappeared. The
reformation in religion which was taking place
about the same time, and giving such energy to
the human mind, contributed to render this
emancipation more complete, and to reduce the
exorbitant pretensions of the Romish church.
The prohibition against believing in the true
system of the world either ceased altogether, or
was reduced to an empty form, by which the
affectation of infallibility still preserves the me¬
mory of its errors.1
4. DESCARTES, HUYGENS, &c.
Descartes flourished about this period, and or who formed the great and philosophic con-
has the merit of being the first who undertook ception of reducing all the phenomena of the
to give an explanation of the celestial motions, universe to the same law. The time was now
1 The learned fathers who have, with so much ability, commented on the Principia of Newton, have prefixed to the
third book this remarkable declaration: “ Newtonus in hoc tertio libro telluris motce hypothesin assumit. Auctoris pro-
positiones aliter explicari non poterant, nisi eadem facta hypothesi. Hinc alienam coacti sumus gerere personam. Cetemm
lath a summis Pontificibus contra telluris motum Decretis nos obsequi pr&fltcmur." There is an archness in the last sentence,
that looks as if the authors wanted to convey meanings that would differ according to the orthodoxy of the readers.
494
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
arrived when, from the acknowledged assimila¬
tion of the planets to the earth, this might he
undertaken with some reasonable prospect of
success. No such attempt had hitherto been
made, unless the crystalline spheres or homo¬
centric orbs of the ancients are to be considered
in that light. The conjectures of Kepler about
a kind of animation, and of organic structure,
which pervaded the planetary regions, were too
vague and indefinite, and too little analogous to
any thing known on the earth, to he entitled to
the name of a theory. To Descartes, therefore,
belongs the honour of being the first who ven¬
tured on the solution of the most arduous pro¬
blem which the material world olfers to the con¬
sideration of philosophy. For this solution he
sought no other data than matter and motion,
and with them alone proposed to explain the
structure and constitution of the universe. The
matter which he required, too, was of the
simplest kind, possessing no properties but ex¬
tension, impenetrability, and inertia. It was
matter in the abstract, without any of its pecu¬
liar or distinguishing characters. To explain
these characters was indeed a part of the task
which he proposed to himself; and thus, by the
simplicity of his assumptions, he added infinite¬
ly to the difficulty of the problem which he un¬
dertook to resolve.
The matter thus constituted was supposed to
fill all space, and its parts, both great and small,
to be endued with motion in an infinite variety
of directions. From the combination of these,
the rectilineal motion of the parts became im¬
possible ; the atoms or particles of matter were
continually diverted from the lines in which
they had begun to move; so that circular mo¬
tion and centrifugal force originated from their
action on one another. Thus matter came to
be formed into a multitude of vortices, differing
in extent, in velocity, and in density; the more
subtile parts constituting the real vortex, in which
the denser bodies float, and by which they are
pressed, though not equally, on all sides.
Thus the universe consists of a multitude of
vortices, which limit and circumscribe one ano¬
ther. The earth and the planets are bodies car¬
ried round in the great vortex of the solar sys¬
tem ; and by the pressure of the subtile matter,
which circulates with great rapidity and great
centrifugal force, the denser bodies, which have
less rapidity and less centrifugal force, are
forced down toward the sun, the centre of the
vortex. In like manner, each planet is itself
the centre of a smaller vortex, by the subtile
matter of which the phenomena of gravity are
produced, just as with us at the surface of the
earth.
The gradation of smaller vortices may be
continued in the same manner, to explain the
cohesion of the grosser bodies, and their other
sensible qualities. But I forbear to enter into
the detail of a system which is now entirely ex¬
ploded, and so inconsistent with the views of
nature which have become familiar to every one,
that such details can hardly be listened to with
patience. Indeed the theory of vortices did not
explain a single phenomenon in a satisfactory
manner, nor is there a truth of any kind which
has been brought to light by means of it. None
of the peculiar properties of the planetary orbits
were taken into the account; none of the laws
of Kepler were considered; nor was any expla¬
nation given of those laws, more than of any
other that might be imagined. The philosophy
of Descartes could explain all things equally
well, and might have been accommodated to
the systems of Ptolemy or Tycho, just as well
as to that of Copernicus. It forms, therefore,
no link in the chain of physical discovery; it
served the cause of truth only by exploding
errors more pernicious than its own; by ex¬
hausting a source of deception, which might
have misled other adventurers in science; and
by leaving a striking proof how little advance¬
ment can be made in philosophy by pursuing
any path but that of experiment and induction*
Descartes was, nevertheless, a man of great
genius, a deep thinker, of enlarged views, and
entirely superior to prejudice. Yet, in as far as
the explanation of astronomical phenomena is
concerned, (and it was his main object) he did
good only by showing in what quarter the at¬
tempt could not be made with success; he was
the forlorn hope of the new philosophy, and must
be sacrificed for the benefit of those w ho were
to follow.
Gassendi, the contemnorary and countryman
DISSERTATION THIRD.
495
of Descartes, possessed great learning, with a
very clear and sound understanding. He was
a good observer, and an enlightened advocate of
the Copernican system. He explained, in a very
satisfactory manner, the connection between the
laws of motion and the motion of the earth, and
made experiments to show, that a body carried
along by another acquires a motion which re¬
mains after it has ceased to be so carried. Gas¬
sendi first observed the transit of a planet over
the disk of the sun,—that of Mercury, in 1631.
Kepler had predicted this transit, but did not
live to enjoy a spectacle which afforded so satis¬
factory a proof of the truth of his system, and
of the accuracy of his astronomical tables.
The first transit of Venus which was observed,
happened a few years later, in 1639, when it
was seen in England by Horrox and his friend
Crabtree, and by them only. Horrox, who was
a young man of great genius, had himself cal¬
culated the transit, and foretold the time very
accurately, though the astronomical tables of
that day gave different results; and those of
Kepler, in which he confided the most, were,
in this instance, considerably in error. Horrox
has also the merit of being among the first who
rightly appreciated the discoveries of the astron¬
omer just named. He had devoted much time
to astronomical observation, and, though he died
very young, he left behind him some prepara¬
tions for computing tables of the moon, on a
principle which was new, and which Newton
himself thought worthy of being adopted in his
theory of the inequalities of that planet.
The first complete system of astronomy in
which the elliptic orbits were introduced, was
the Astronomia Philolaica of Bullialdus, (Boul-
liau) published in 164)5. They were intro¬
duced, however, with such hypothetical addi¬
tions, as show that the idea of a centre of uni¬
form motion had not yet entirely disappeared.
It is an idea, indeed, which gives considerable
relief to .the imagination, and it besides leads to
methods of calculation more simple than the
true theory, and Bullialdus may have flattered
bimself that they were sufficiently exact. He
conceives the elliptic orbit as a section of an
oblique cone, the axis of which passes through
the superior focus of the ellipse, while the planet
moves in its circumference in such a manner,
that a plane passing through it and through the
axis shall be carried round with a uniform an¬
gular velocity. It is plain that the cone and its
axis are mere fictions, arbitrarily assumed, and
not even possessing the advantage of simplicity.
The author himself departs from this hypothe¬
sis, and calculates the places of a planet, on the
supposition that it moves in the circumference
of an epicycle, and the epicycle in the circum¬
ference of an eccentric deferent, both angular
motions being uniform, that of the planet in the
epicycle being retrograde, and double the other.
The figure thus described may be shown to be
an ellipse, but the line drawn from the planet
to the focus does not cut off areas proportional
to the time.
An hypothesis advanced by Ward, bishop of
Salisbury, was simpler and more accurate than
that of the French astronomer. According to
it, the line drawn from a planet to the superior
focus of its elliptic orbit, turns with a uniform
angular velocity round that point. In orbits of
small eccentricity, this is nearly true, and al¬
most coincides in such cases with Kepler’s prin¬
ciple of the uniform description of areas. Dr
Ward, however, did not consider the matter in
that light; he assumed his hypothesis as true,
guided, it would seem, by nothing but the opin¬
ion, that a centre of uniform motion must some¬
where exist, and pleased with the simplicity thus
introduced into astronomical calculation. It is
indeed remarkable, as Montucla has observed,
how little the most enlightened astronomers
of that time seem to have studied or under¬
stood the laws discovered by Kepler. Riccioli,
of whom we are just about to speak, enumerates
all the suppositions that had been laid down
concerning the velocities of the planets, but
makes no mention of their describing equal areas
in equal times round the sun. Even Cassini,
great as he was in astronomy, cannot be entire¬
ly exempted from this censure.
Riccioli, a good observer, and a learned and
diligent compiler, has collected all that was
known in astronomy about the middle of the
seventeenth century, in a voluminous work, the
New Almagest. Without much originality, he
was a very useful author, having had, as the
496
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
historian of astronomy remarks, the courage and
the industry to read, to know, and to abridge
every thing. He was, nevertheless, an enemy
to the Copernican system, and has the discredit
of having measured the evidence for and against
that system, not by the weight, but by the num¬
ber of the arguments. The pains which he took
to prop the falling edifice of deferents and epi¬
cycles, added to his misapprehending and depre¬
ciating the discoveries of Kepler, subject him to
the reproach of having neither the genius to dis¬
cover truth, nor the good sense to distinguish it
when discovered. He was, however, a priest
and a jesuit; he had seen the fate of Galileo;
and his errors may have arisen from want of
courage, more than from want of discernment.
Of the phenomena which the telescope in the
hands of Galileo had made known, the most pa¬
radoxical were those exhibited by Saturn; some¬
times attended by two globes, one on each side,
without any relative motion, but which would,
at stated times, disappear for a while, and leave
the planet single, like the other heavenly bodies.
Nearly forty years had elapsed, without any fur¬
ther insight into these mysterious appearances,
when Huygens began to examine the heavens
with telescopes of his own construction, better
and more powerful than any which had yet been
employed. The two globes that had appeared
insulated, were now seen connected by a circu¬
lar and luminous belt, going quite round the
planet. At last, it was found that all these ap¬
pearances resulted from a broad ring surround¬
ing Saturn, and seen obliquely from the earth.
The gradual manner in which this truth unfold¬
ed itself is very interesting, and has been given
until the detail that it deserves by Huygens, in
his Systema Saturnium.
The attention which Huygens had paid to the
ring of Saturn, led him to the discovery of a
satellite of the same planet. His telescopes
were not powerful enough to discover more of
them than one; he believed, indeed, that there
were no more, and that the number of the
planets now discovered was complete. The rea¬
soning by which he convinced himself, is a proof
how slowly men are cured of their prejudices,
even with the best talents and the best informa¬
tion. The planets, primary and secondary, thus
made up twelve, the double of six, the first of
the perfect numbers. In 1671, however, Cassini
discovered another satellite, and afterwards three
more, making five in all, which the more perfect
telescopes of Dr Herschell have lately augment¬
ed to seven.
To the genius of Huygens astronomy is in¬
debted for an addition to its apparatus, hardly
less essential than the quadrant and the tele¬
scope. An accurate measure of time is of use
even in the ordinary business of life, but to the
astronomer is infinitely valuable. The dates of
his observations, and an accurate estimate of the
time elapsed between them, are necessary, in or¬
der to make them lead to any useful conse¬
quences. Besides this, the only way of measur¬
ing with accuracy those arches in the heavens,
which extend from east to west, or which are
parallel to the equator, depends on the earth’s
rotation; because such an arch bears the same
proportion to the entire circumference of a cir¬
cle, that the time of its passage under the meri¬
dian bears to an entire day. The reckoning of
time thus furnishes the best measure of position,
as determined by arches parallel to the equator,
whether on the earth or in the heavens.
Though the pendulum afforded a measure of
time, in itself of the greatest exactness, the
means of continuing its motion, without disturb¬
ing the time of its vibrations, was yet requir¬
ed to be found; and this, by means of the clock,
Huygens contrived most ingeniously to effect.
Each vibration of the pendulum, by means of an
arm at right angles to it, allows the tooth of a
wheel to escape, the wheel being put in motion
by a weight. The wheel is so contrived, that
the force with which it acts is just sufficient to
restore to the pendulum the motion which it had
lost by the resistance of the air, and the friction
at the centre of motion. Thus the motion of
the clock is continued without any diminution
of its uniformity, for any length of time.
The telescope had not yet served astronomy
in all the capacities in which it could be useful.
Huygens, of whose inventive genius the history
of science has so much to record, applied it to
the measurement of small angles, forming it mto
the instrument which has since been called a mi¬
crometer. By introducing into the focus of the
DISSERTATION THIRD.
497
telescope a round aperture of a given size, he
contrived to measure the angle which that aper¬
ture subtended to the eye, by observing the time
that a star placed near the equator required to
traverse it. When the angle subtended by any
other object in the telescope was to be measured,
he introduced into the focus a thin piece of metal,
just sufficient to cover the object in the focus.
The proportion of the breadth of this plate to
the diameter of the aperture formerly measured,
gave the angle subtended by the image in the
focus of the telescope. This contrivance is de¬
scribed in the Systema Saturnium, at the end.
The telescope has further contributed materi¬
ally to the accuracy of astronomical observation,
by its application to instruments used for measur¬
ing, not merely small angles, but angles of any
magnitude whatever. The telescope here comes
in place of the plain sights with which the index
or allidad of an instrument used to be directed
to an object, and this substitution has been ac¬
companied with two advantages. The disk of a
star is never so well defined to the naked eye as
it is in the telescope. Besides, in using plain
sights, the eye adapts itself to the farther off of
the two, in order that its aperture may be dis¬
tinctly seen. Whenever this adjustment is made,
the object seen through the aperture necessarily
appears indistinct to the eye, which is then adapt¬
ed to a near object. This circumstance pro¬
duces an uncertainty in all such observations,
which, by the use of the telescope, is entirely
removed.
But the greatest advantage arises from the
magnifying power of the telescope, from which
it follows, that what is a mere point to the naked
eye, is an extended line which can be divided
into a great number of parts when seen through
the former. The best eye, when not aided by
glasses, is not able to perceive an object which
subtends an angle less than half a minute, or
thirty seconds. When the index of a quadrant,
therefore, is directed by the naked eye to any
point in the heavens, we cannot be sure that it
is nearer than half a minute on either side of
that point. But when we direct the axis of a
telescope, which magnifies thirty times, to the
same object, we are sure that it is within the
thirtieth part of half a minute, that is, within
DISS. III. PART I.
one second of the point aimed at. Thus the
accuracy, cater is paribus, is proportional to the
magnifying power.
The application of the telescope, however, to
astronomical instruments, was not introduced
without opposition. Hevelius of Dantzic, the
greatest observer who had been since Tycho
Brahe, who had furnished his observatory with
the best and largest instruments, and who was
familiar with the use of the telescope, strenu¬
ously maintained the superiority of the plain
sights. His principal argument was founded
on this,—that, in plain sights, the line of colli-
mation is determined in its position by two fixed
points at a considerable distance from one an¬
other, viz. the centres of the two apertures of
the sights, so that it remains invariable with
respect to the index.
In the case of the telescope there was one fixed
point, the intersection of the wires in the focus
of the eye-glass; but Hevelius did not think
that the other point, viz. the optical centre of
the object-glass, was equally well defined. This
doubt, however, might have been removed by a
direct appeal to experiment, or to angles actually
measured on the ground, first by an instrument,
and then by trigonometrical operations. From
thence it would soon have been discovered, that
the centre of a lens is in fact a point defined
more accurately than can be done by any me¬
chanical construction.
This method of deciding the question was not
resorted to. Hevelius and Hooke had a very
serious controversy concerning it, in which the
advantage remained with the latter. It should
have been observed, that the French astronomer
Picard was the first who employed instruments
furnished with telescopic sights, about the year
1665. It appears, however, that Gascoigne, an
English gentleman who fell at the battle of
Marston-moor in 1644, had anticipated the
French astronomer in this invention, but that
it had remained entirely unknown. He had also
anticipated the invention of the micrometer.
The vast additional accuracy thus given to in¬
struments formed a new era in the history of
astronomical observations.
Though Galileo had discovered the satellites
of Jupiter, their times of revolution, and even
3 R
498
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
some of tlieir inequalities, it yet remained to de¬
fine their motions with precision, and to con¬
struct tables for calculating their places. This
task was performed by the elder Cassini, who
was invited from Italy, his native country, by
Louis the Fourteenth, and settled in France in
1669. His tables of the satellites had been pub¬
lished at Bologna three years before, and he
continued to improve them, by a series of ob¬
servations made in the observatory at Paris,
with great diligence and accuracy.
The theory of the motions of these small bodies
is a research of great difficulty, and had been
attempted by many astronomers before Cassini,
with very little success. The planes of the
orbits, their inclinations to the orbit of Jupiter,
and the lines in which they intersected that
orbit, were all to be determined, as well as the
times of revolution, and the distances of each
from its primary. Add to this, that it is only
in a few points of their orbits that they can be
observed with advantage. The best are at the
times of immersion into the shadow of Jupiter,
and emersion from it. The same excellent
astronomer discovered four satellites of Saturn,
in addition to that already observed by Huy¬
gens. He also discovered the rotation of Jupi¬
ter and of Mars upon their axes.
The constant attention bestowed on the eclip¬
ses of the satellites of Jupiter, made an inequa¬
lity be remarked in the periods of their return,
which seemed to depend on the position of the
earth relatively to Jupiter and the sun, and not,
as the inequalities of that sort might have been
expected to do, on the place of Jupiter in his
orbit. From the opposition of Jupiter to the
sun, till the conjunction, it was found that the
observed emersion of the satellites from the
shadow fell more and more behind the comput¬
ed ; the differences amounting near the conjunc¬
tion to about fourteen minutes. When, after the
conjunction, the immersions were observed, an
acceleration was remarked, just equal to the for¬
mer retardation; so that, at the opposition, the
eclipse happened fourteen minutes sooner than
by the calculation.
The first person who offered an explanation
of these facts was Olaus Roemer, a Danish as¬
tronomer. He observed that the increase of the
retardation corresponded nearly to the increase of
the earth’s distance from Jupitei’, and converse¬
ly, the acceleration to the diminution of that dis¬
tance. Hence it occurred to him, that it was
to the time which light requires to traverse
those distances that the whole series of pheno¬
mena was to be ascribed. This explanation was
so simple and satisfactory, that it was readily
received.
Though Roemer was the first who communi¬
cated this explanation to the world, yet it seems
certain that it had before occurred to Cassini,
and that he was prevented from making it known
by a consideration which does him great honour.
The explanation which the motion of light af¬
forded, seemed not to be consistent with two cir¬
cumstances involved in the phenomenon. If
such was the cause of the alternate acceleration
and retardation above described, why was it ob¬
served only in the eclipses of the first satellite,
and not in those of the other three ? This diffi¬
culty appeared so great to Cassini, that he sup¬
pressed the explanation which he would other¬
wise have given.
The other difficulty occurred to Maraldi.
Why did not an equation or allowance of the
same kind arise from the position of Jupiter,
with respect to his aphelion, for, all other things
being the same, his distance from the earth must
be greater, as he was nearer to that point of his
orbit ? Both these difficulties have since been
completely removed. If the aforesaid inequality
was not for some time observed in any satellite
but the first, it was only because the motions ot
the first are the most regular, and were the
soonest understood; but it now appears that the
same equation belongs to all the satellites. The
solution of Maraldi’s difficulty is similar; for
the quantity of what is called the equation of
the light, is now known to be affected by Jupi¬
ter’s place in his oi’bit.
Thus every thing conspires to prove the reality
of the motion of light, so singular on account ot
the immensity of the velocity, and the smallness
of the bodies to which it is communicated.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
499
5. ESTABLISHMENT OF ACADEMIES, &c.
About the middle of the seventeenth century
were formed those associations of scientific men,
which, under the appellation of Academies or
Philosophical Societies, have contributed so
much to the advancement of knowledge in Eu¬
rope. The Academia del Cimento of Florence,
founded in 1651, carried in its name the im¬
pression of the new philosophy. It was in the
country of Galileo where the first institution for
the prosecution of experimental knowledge might
he expected to arise; and the monuments which
it has left behind it, will ever create regret for
the shortness of its duration.
England soon after showed the same example.
It has been already remarked, that, during the
civil wars, a number of learned and scientific
men sought, in the retirement of Oxford, an
asylum from the troubles to which the country
was then a prey. They had met as early as
1645; most of them were attached to the royal
cause; and after the restoration of Charles the
Second, they were incorporated by a royal char¬
ter in 1662.
The first idea of this institution seems to have
been suggested by the writings of Bacon, who,
in recommending the use of experiment, had
severely censured the schools, colleges, and aca¬
demies of his own time, as adverse to the ad¬
vancement of knowledge;1 and, in the isova
Atlantis, had given a most interesting sketch of
the form of a society directed to scientific im¬
provement. In Germany, the Academia Naturce
Curiosorum dates its commencement from 1652;
and the historian of that institution ascribes the
spirit which produced it to the writings of the
philosopher just named. These examples, and
a feeling that the union and co-operation of
numbers were necessary to the progress of expe¬
rimental philosophy, operated still more exten¬
sively. The Royal Academy of Sciences at
Paris was founded in 1666, in the reign of Louis
the Fourteenth, and during the administration
of Colbert. The Institute of Bologna in Italy
belongs nearly to the same period; hut almost
all the other philosophical associations, of which
there are now so many, had their beginning in
the eighteenth century.
Frequent communication of ideas, and a regu¬
lar method of keeping up such communication,
are evidently essential to works in which great
labour and industry are to he employed, and to
which much time must necessarily be devoted;
when the philosopher must not always sit quiet¬
ly in his cabinet, but must examine nature with
his own eyes, and be present in the work-shop
of the mechanic, or the laboratory of the che¬
mist. These operations are facilitated by the
institutions now referred to, which, therefore,
are of more importance to the physical sciences
than to the other branches of knowledge. They
who cultivate the former are also fewer in num¬
ber, and being, of course, farther separated, are
less apt to meet together in the common inter¬
course of the world. Ihe historian, the critic,
the poet, finds everywhere men who can enter
in some degree at least into his pursuits, who
can appreciate his merit, and derive pleasure
from his writings or his conversation. Ihe ma-
1 “ In moribus et institutis scholarum, academiarum, collegiorum, et similium conventuum, quae doctorum hominum
sedibus et eruditionis cultune destinata sunt, omnia progressui scientiarum adversa myenmntur. Lectiones emm et exeici-
tia ita sunt disposita, ut aliud a consuetis baud facile cuiquam in mentem vemat cogitate aut contemp an. S
aut alter fortasse judicii libertate uti sustinuerit, is sibi soli banc operam imponere possit; ab alioiuin autem const)rtio ni¬
hil capiet utilitatis. Sin et hoc toleraverit, tamen in capessenda tortuna industnam banc et “^a"1111ltat^ ff1 1
impedimento fore experietur. Studia enim hominum in ejusmodi locis in quorundam auc oruny P ’. . m-U/wl
conclusa sunt; a quibus si quis dissentiat, continuo ut homo turbidus, et rerum no\ arum cupauy, c ('An ^
autem et scientiU, ianquam in metalli fodinis, omnia navis operibus et ulterioribus progi cssi us circums i ej) < &
”Tt wouldTe gratifying to be able to observe, that the universities of Europe had contributed to the renovation ot science.
The fact is otherwise; they were often the fastnesses from which prejudice and error were latest in being expelled. They
joined in persecuting the reformers of science. It has been seen, that the masters of the University o
with Galileo for the experiments on the descent of bodies. Even the University of Oxford brought onttselftlemdelible
disgrace of persecuting, in Friar Bacon, the first man who appears to have had a distinct view of the means by which
the knowledge of the laws of nature must be acquired.
500
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
thematician, the astronomer, the mechanician,
sees few men who have much sympathy with
his pursuits, or who do not look with indiffer¬
ence on the objects which he pursues. The
world, to him, consists of a few individuals, by
the censures or approbation of whom the public
opinion must be finally determined; with them
it is material that he should have more frequent
intercourse than could be obtained by casual
rencounter ; and he feels that the society of men
engaged in pursuits similar to his own is a ne¬
cessary stimulus to his exertions. Add to this,
that such societies become centres, in which in¬
formation concerning facts is collected from all
quarters. For all these reasons, the greatest
benefit has resulted from the scientific insti¬
tutions which, since the middle of the seven¬
teenth century, have become so numerous in
Europe.
The Royal Society of London is an associa¬
tion of men, who, without salaries or appoint¬
ment from Government, defray, by private con¬
tribution, the expense of their meetings, and
of their publications. This last is another im¬
portant service which a society so constituted
renders to science.
The demand of the public for memoirs in
Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, many of
them perhaps profound and difficult, is not suf¬
ficiently great to defray the expense of publica¬
tion, if they come forward separately and un¬
connected with one another. In a collective
state they are much more likely to draw the
attention of the public; the form in which they
appear is the most convenient both for the reader
and the author; and if, after all, the sale of the
work is unequal to the expense, the deficiency
is made up from the funds of the society. An
institution of this kind, therefore, is a patriotic
and disinterested association of the lovers of
science, who engage not only to employ them¬
selves in discovery, but, by private contribu¬
tion, to defray the expense of scientific publica¬
tions.
The Academy of Sciences in Paris was not
exactly an institution of the same kind. It con¬
sisted of three classes of members, one of which,
the Pensionnaires, twenty in number, had sala¬
ries paid by Government, and were bound in
their turn to furnish the meetings with scien¬
tific memoirs; and each of them also, at the be¬
ginning of every year, was expected to give an
account of the work in which he was to be em¬
ployed. This institution has been of incredible
advantage to science. To detach a number of
ingenious men from every thing but scientific
pursuits; to deliver them alike from the embar¬
rassments of poverty or the temptations of
Avealth; to give them a place and station in
society the most respectable and independent,
is to remove eArery impediment, and to add every
stimulus to exertion. To this institution, ac¬
cordingly, operating upon a people of great ge¬
nius and indefatigable activity of mind, we are
to ascribe that superiority in the mathematical
sciences which, for the last seA7enty years, has
been so conspicuous.
The establishment of astronomical observa¬
tories, as national or royal works, is connected
in Europe Avith the institution of scientific or
philosophical societies. The necessity of the
former was, indeed, even more apparent than
that of the latter. A science which has the
heavenly bodies for its object, ought, as far as
possible, to be exempted from the vicissitudes of
the earth. As it gains strength but slowly, and
requires ages to complete its discoATeries, the
plan of observation must not be limited by the
life of the individual Avho pursues it, but must
be folloAved out in the same place, year after
year, to an unlimited extent. A perception of
this truth, however indistinct, seems, from the
earliest times, to haAre suggested the utility of
observatories, to those sovereigns who patronized
astronomy, whether they looked to that science
for real or imaginary instruction. The circle
of Osymandias is the subject of one of the most
ancient traditions in science, and has preserved
the name of a prince which otherwise would
have been entirely unknoAvn. A building, dedi¬
cated to astronomy, made a conspicuous part of
the magnificent establishment of the school of
Alexandria. During the middle ages, in the
course of the migrations of science toAvard the
east, sumptuous buildings, furnished with astro¬
nomical instruments, rose successively in the
plains of Mesopotamia, and among the moun¬
tains of Tartary. An observatory in the gardens
DISSERTATION THIRD.
501
of the Caliph of Bagdad contained a quadrant
of fifteen cubits1 in radius, and a sextant of
forty.2 Instruments of a still larger size dis¬
tinguished the observatory of Samarcand; and
the accounts would seem incredible, if the ruins
of Benares did not, at this moment, attest the
reality of similar constructions.
On the revival of letters in Europe, establish¬
ments of the same kind were the first decisive
indications of a taste for science. We have seen
the magnificent observatory on which Tycho ex¬
pended his private fortune, and employed the
munificence of his patron, become a sad memo¬
rial (after the signal services which it had ren¬
dered to astronomy) of the instability of what¬
ever depends on individual greatness. The ob¬
servatories at Paris and London were secured
from a similar fate, by being made national es¬
tablishments, where a succession of astronomers
were to devote themselves to the study of the
heavens. The observatory at Paris was begun
in 1667, and that at Greenwich in 1675. In
the first of these, La Hire and Cassini, in the
second, Flamsteed and Halley, are at the head
of a series of successors who have done honour
to their respective nations. If there be in Britain
any establishment, in the success and conduct
of which the nation has reason to boast, it is
that of the Royal Observatory, which, in spite
of a climate which so continually tries the pa¬
tience, and so often disappoints the hopes of the
astronomer, has furnished a greater number of
observations to be completely relied on, than all
the rest of Europe put together, and afforded
the data for those tables in which the French
mathematicians have expressed, with such accu¬
racy, the past, the present, and the future con¬
dition of the heavens.
6. FIGURE AND MAGNITUDE OF THE EARTH.
The progress made during the seventeenth
century, in ascertaining the magnitude and figure
of the earth, is particularly connected with the
establishments which we have just been con¬
sidering. Concerning the figure of the earth,
no accurate information was derived from anti¬
quity, if we except that of the mathematical
principle on which it was to be determined.
The measurement of an arch of the meridian
was attempted by Eratosthenes of Alexandria,
in perfect conformity with that principle, but by
means very inadequate to the importance and
difficulty of the problem. By measuring the
sun’s distance from the zenith of Alexandria on
the solstitial day, and by knowing, as he thought
he did, that on the same day the sun was ex¬
actly in the zenith of Syene, he found the dis¬
tance in the heavens between the parallels of
those places to be 7° 12', or a 50th part of the
circumference of a great circle. Supposing, then,
that Alexandria and Syene were in the same
meridian, nothing more was required than to
find the distance between them, which, when
multiplied by 50, would give the circumference
of the globe. The manner in which this was
attempted by Eratosthenes, is quite characteris¬
tic of the infant state of the arts of experiment
and observation. He took no trouble to ascer¬
tain whether Alexandria and Syene were due
north and south of one another : the truth is,
that the latter is considerably east of the former;
so that, though their horizontal distance had
been accurately known, a considerable reduction
would have been necessary, on account of the
distance of the one from the meridian of the
other. It does not appear, however, that Era¬
tosthenes was at any more pains to ascertain the
distance than the bearing of the two places. He
assumed the former just as it was commonly es¬
timated ; and, indeed, it appears that the dis¬
tance was not measured till long afterwards,
when it was done by the command of Nero.
It was in this way that the ancients made ob¬
servations and experiments; the mathematical
principles might be perfectly understood, but
the method of obtaining accurate data for the
application of those principles was not a subject
of attention. The power of resolving the pro¬
blem was the main object; and the actual solu¬
tion was a matter of very inferior importance.
Twenty-two feet three inches.
3 Sixty feet five inches.
502
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS. '
The slowness with which the art of making ac¬
curate experiments and observations has been
matured, and the great distance it has kept be¬
hind theory, is a remarkable fact in the history
of the physical sciences. It has been remarked,
that mathematicians had found out the area of
the circle, and calculated its circumference to
more than a hundred places of decimals, before
artists had divided an arch into minutes of a de¬
gree ; and that many excellent treatises had been
written on the properties of curves, before a
straight line had been drawn of any considerable
length, or measured with any tolerable exact¬
ness, on the surface of the globe.1
The next measurement on record is that of the
astronomers of Almamon, in the plains of Me¬
sopotamia ; and the manner of conducting the
operation appears to have been far more accu¬
rate than that of the Greek philosophers; hut,
from a want of knowledge of the measures em¬
ployed, it has conveyed no information to pos¬
terity.
The first arch of the meridian, measured in
modern times with an accuracy any way cor¬
responding to the difficulty of the problem, was
by Snellius, a Dutch mathematician, who has
given an account of it in a volume which he
calls Eratosthenes Batavus, published in 1617.
The arch was between Bergen-op-Zoom and Alk-
maar ; its amplitude was 1° 11' 80", and the dis¬
tance was determined by a series of triangles,
depending on a base line carefully measured.
The length of the degree that resulted was 55,021
toises, which, as was afterwards found, is consi¬
derably too small. Certain errors were disco¬
vered, and when they were corrected, the degree
came out 57,033 toises, which is not far from
the truth. The corrections were made by Snel¬
lius himself, who measured his base over again,
and also the angles of the triangles. He died,
however, before he could publish the result.
Muschenbroek, who calculated the whole anew
from his papers, came to the conclusion just
mentioned, which, of course, was not known till
long after the time when the measure was exe¬
cuted. No advantage, accordingly, was derived
to the world from this measurement till its value
was lost in that of other measurements still
more accurately conducted.
A computation which, for the time, deserves
considerable praise, is that of Norwood, in 1635,
who measured the distance between London and
York, taking the bearings as he proceeded along
the road, and reducing all to the direction of the
meridian, and to the horizontal plane. The dif¬
ference of latitude he found, by obseiwation of
the solstices, to he 2° 28'; and from that and his
measured distance, he concluded the degree to
be 367,176 feet English, or 57,800 toises. This
has been found to be a near approximation; yet
his method was not capable of great accuracy,
nor did he always execute it in the best manner.
“ Sometimes,” says he, “ I measured, sometimes
1 paced ; and I believe I am within a scantling of
the truth.”
Fernel, a French physician, measured with a
wheel from Paris to Amiens, which are nearly
in the same meridian, and he determined the de¬
gree from thence to be 56,746 French toises; a
result which falls short of the truth, though not
very considerably.
These investigations, it is plain, could not hut
leave considerable uncertainty with respect to
the magnitude of the earth. The Academy of
Sciences became interested in the question, and the
measurement of an arch in the meridian was un¬
dertaken under its auspices, and executed by the
Abbe Picard, already known for his skill in the
operations of practical geometry. He followed a
method similar to that of Snellius, according to
which, the distance between Amiens and Mal-
voisine was found from a series of triangles, and
a base of 5663^ toises. He determined the dif¬
ference of latitude by means of a zenith sector of
ten feet radius, and found it to be 1° 22' 55". The
whole distance wras 78,850 toises, whence the
degree came out 57,060 toises. This was the
first measurement of a degree of the meridian
on which perfect reliance could be placed.
Hitherto no doubt had been entertained of the
spherical figure of the earth, and, of consequence,
of the equality of all the degrees of the meridian,
so that if one was known, the whole circum¬
ference was determined. Men, with the preci-
1 Edinburgh Review, vol. V. p. 3!)1.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
503
pitation which they so often manifest, of assum¬
ing, without sufficient evidence, the conclusion
which appears most simple, were no sooner sa¬
tisfied that the earth was round, than they sup¬
posed it to be truly spherical. An observation
soon occurred, which gave reason to suspect,
that much more must be done before its figure or
its magnitude could be completely ascertained.
With a view of observing the sun’s altitude in
the vicinity of the equator, where the distance
from the zenith being inconsiderable, the effects
of refraction must be of small account, it was
agreed, by the same academy, to send an astro¬
nomer, M. Richer, to make observations at the
island of Cayenne, in South America.
Richer observed the solstitial altitude of the
sun at that place in 1672, and found the dis¬
tance of the tropics to be 46° 57' 4", and there¬
fore the obliquity of the ecliptic 23° 28' 32";
agreeing almost precisely with the determination
of Cassini.
The most remarkable circumstance, however,
which occurred in the course of this voyage, was,
that the clock, though furnished with a pendu¬
lum of the same length which vibrated seconds
at Paris, was found, at Cayenne, to lose two
minutes and a half a-day nearly. This created
great astonishment in France, especially after
the accuracy of it was confirmed by the observa¬
tions of Varin and Deshayes, who, some years
afterwards, visited different places on the coasts
of Africa and America, near the line, and found
the necessity of shortening the pendulum, to
make it vibrate seconds in those latitudes. The
first explanation of this remarkable phenomenon
was given by Newton, in the third book of his
Principio, published in 1687, where it is de¬
duced as a necessary consequence of the earth’s
rotation on its axis, and of the centrifugal force
thence arising. That force changes both the di¬
rection and the intensity of gravity, giving to the
earth an oblate spheroidal figure, more elevated
at the equator than the poles, and making bodies
fall, and pendulums vibrate, more slowly in low
than in high latitudes.
This solution, however, did not, any more than
the book in which it was contained, make its
way very readily into France. The first expla¬
nation of the retardation of the pendulum, which
was received there, was given by Huygens in
1690. Huygens deduced it also from the cen¬
trifugal force, arising from the earth’s rotation,
and the view which he took was simpler, though
much less accurate than that of Newton. It had
indeed the simplicity which often arises from
neglecting one of the essential conditions of a
problem; but it was nevertheless ingenious, and
involved a very accurate knowledge of the nature
of centrifugal force.—I am thus brought to touch
on a subject which belongs properly to the
second part of this Dissertation, for which the
fuller discussion of it must of course be reserved.
SECTION V.
OPTICS.
1. OPTICAL KNOWLEDGE OF THE ANCIENTS.
On account of the rectilineal propagation of
light, the phenomena of optics are easily express¬
ed in the form of mathematical propositions, and
seem, as it were, spontaneously to offer them¬
selves to the study of geometers. Euclid, per¬
ceiving this affinity, began to apply the science
which he had already cultivated with so much
success, to explain the laws oi vision, before a
similar attempt had been made with respect to
any other branch of terrestrial Physics, and at
least fifty years before the researches of Archi¬
medes had placed mechanics among the number
of the mathematical sciences.
In the treatise ascribed to Euclid, there are,
504
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
however, only two physical principles which have
completely stood the test of subsequent improve¬
ment. The first of these is the proposition just
referred to, that a point in any object is seen in
the direction of a straight line drawn from the
eye to that point; and the second is, that when
a point in an object is seen by reflection from a
polished surface, the lines drawn from the eye
and from the object to the point whence the re¬
flection is made, are equally inclined to the re¬
flecting surface. These propositions are assum¬
ed as true: they were, no doubt, known before
the time of Euclid ; and it is supposed that the
discovery of them was the work of the Platonic
school. The first of them is the foundation of
Optics proper, or the theory of vision by direct
light; the second is the foundation of Catoptrics,
or the theory of vision by reflected light. Diop¬
trics, or vision by refracted light, had not yet
become an object of attention.
Two other principles which Euclid adopted
as postulates in his demonstrations, have not
met with the same entire confirmation from ex¬
periment, and are indeed true only in certain
cases, and not universally, as he supposed. The
first of these is, that we judge of the magnitude
of an object altogether by the magnitude of the
optical angle, or the angle which it subtends at
the eye. It is true that this angle is an import¬
ant element in that judgment; and Euclid, by
discovering this, came into the possession of a
valuable truth; but by a species of sophistry, very
congenial to the human mind, he extended the
principle too far, and supposed it to be the only
circumstance which determines our judgment
of visible magnitude. It is, indeed, the only
measure which we are furnished with directly
by the eye itself; but there are few cases in
which we form our estimate without first appeal¬
ing to the commentary afforded by the sensations
of touch, or the corrections derived from our
own motion.
Another principle, laid down by the same geo¬
meter, is in circumstances nearly similar to the
preceding. According to it, the place of any
point of an object seen by reflection is always the
intersection of the reflected ray, with the per¬
pendicular drawn from that point to the reflect¬
ing surface. The proof offered is obscure and
defective; the proposition, however, is true, of
plain speculums always, and of spherical as far
as Euclid’s investigations extended, that is, while
the rays fall on the speculum with no great ob¬
liquity. His assumption, therefore, did not af¬
fect the truth of his conclusions, though it would
have been a very unsafe guide in more general
investigations. The book is in many other re¬
spects imperfect, the reasoning often unsound,
and the whole hardly worthy of the great geo¬
meter whose name it bears. There is, however,
no doubt that Euclid wrote on the subject of op¬
tics, and many have supposed that this treatise
is a careless extract, or an unskilful abridgement
of the original work.
Antiquity furnished another mathematical
treatise on optics, that of the astronomer Ptolemy.
This treatise, though known in the middle ages,
and quoted by Roger Bacon, had disappeared,
and was supposed to be entirely lost, till within
these few years, when a manuscript on optics,
professing to be the work of Ptolemy, and to be
translated from the Arabic, was found in the
King’s Library at Paris. The most valuable
part of this work is that which relates to refrac¬
tion, from whence it appears that many experi¬
ments had been made on that subject, and the
angles of incidence and refraction, for different
transparent substances, observed with so much
accuracy, that the same ratio, very nearly, of the
sines of these angles, from air into water or into
glass, is obtained from Ptolemy’s numbers, which
the repeated experiments of later times have
shown to be true. The work, however, in the
state in which it now appears, is very obscure,
the reasoning often deficient in accuracy, and the
mathematical part much less perfect than might
have been expected. Modern writers, presum¬
ing partly on the reputation of Ptolemy, and
partly guided by the authority of Roger Bacon,
had ascribed to this treatise more merit than it
appears to possess; and, of consequence, had
allowed less to the Arabian author Alhazen,
who comes next in the order of time, than of
right belongs to him. Montucla, on the autho¬
rity of Bacon, says, that Ptolemy ascribed the
increase of the apparent magnitude of the heaven¬
ly bodies near the horizon, to the greater dis¬
tance at which they are supposed to be, on ac-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
505
count of the number of intervening objects across
which they are seen. Ptolemy’s explanation,
however, as stated by Delambre,1 from the manu¬
script just mentioned, is quite different from
this, and amounts to no more than the vague
and unsatisfactory remark, that an observer looks
at the bodies near the zenith in a constrained
posture, and in a situation to which the eye is
not accustomed. The former explanation, there¬
fore, given by Alhazen, hut supposed to have
been borrowed from Ptolemy, must now be re¬
turned to its right owner. It is the best expla¬
nation yet known.
These are the only mathematical treatises on
optics of any consideration which the ancients
have transmitted to us;2 hut many metaphysical
speculations on light and vision are to be found
in the writings of the philosophers. Aristotle
defined light much as he had defined motion;
the act or energy of a transparent body, in as much
as it is transparent. The reason for calling light
an act of a transparent body is, that, though a
body may he transparent in power or capacity,
it does not become actually transparent but by
means of light. Light brings the transparency
into action ; it is, therefore, the act of a trans¬
parent body. In such miserable puerilities did
the genius of this great man exhaust itself, owing
to the unfortunate direction in which his re¬
searches were carried on.
In his further speculations concerning light,
he denied it to he a substance; and his argu¬
ment contains a singular mixture of the ingeni¬
ous and the absurd. The time, he says, in which
light spreads from one place to another is infi¬
nitely small, so that light has a velocity which
is infinitely great. ISow, bodies move with a
velocity inversely as the quantities of matter
which they contain; light, therefore, cannot
contain any matter, that is, it cannot be mate¬
rial.3 That the velocity of light was infinitely
great, seemed to him to follow from this, that
its progress, estimated either in the direction of
north and south or of east and west, appeared
to he instantaneous. In the opinion of the
Platonists, and of the greater part of the an¬
cients, vision was performed by means of certain
rays which proceeded from the eye to the object,
though they did not become the instruments of
conveying sensations to the mind, but in conse¬
quence of the presence of light. In this theory,
we can now see nothing but a rude and hasty
attempt to assimilate the sense of sight to that
of touch, without inquiring sufficiently into the
particular characters of either.
Epicurus, and the philosophers of his school,
as we learn from Lucretius, entertained more
correct notions of vision, though they were still
far from the truth. They conceived vision to
he performed in consequence of certain simu¬
lacra, or images continually thrown off from the
surfaces of bodies, and entering the eye. This
was the substitute in their philosophy for rays
of light, and had at least the merit of represent¬
ing that which is the medium of vision, or which
forms the communication between the eye and
external objects, as something proceeding from
the latter. The idea of simulacra, or spectra,
flying off continually from the surfaces of bodies,
and entering the eye, was perhaps as near an
approach to the true theory of vision as could
he made before the structure of the eye was
understood.
In the arts connected with optics, the ancients
had made some progress. They were sufficiently
acquainted with the laws of reflection to con-
1 Connoissance des Terns, 1816, p. 245, &c. The glimpses of truth, not destined to be fully discovered till many ages
afterwards, which are found in the writings of the ancients, are always interesting. Ptolemy distinguishes what has since been
called the virtual focus, which takes place in certain cases of reflection, from spherical specula. He remarks, that colours are
confounded by the rapidity of motion, and gives the instance of a wheel painted with different colours, and turned quickly
round.
2 Another Greek treatise on optics, that of Heliodorus of Larissa, has been preserved, and was first published by Eras¬
mus Bartholinus at Paris, in 1657- It is a superficial work, which, to a good deal of obscure and unsound metaphysics,
adds the demonstration of a few very obvious truths. The author holds the opinion, that vision is performed by the emission
of something from the eyes; and the reason which he assigns is, that the eyes are convex, and more adapted to emit than
to receive. His metaphysics may be judged of from this specimen. He has not been made mention of by any ancient
author, and the time when he wrote is unknown. As he quotes, however, the writings of Ptolemy and Hero, he must have
been later than the first century.
3 The truth of the mathematical proposition, that A = 0, was perceived by Aristotle. A strong intellect is always
visible in the midst of his greatest errors.
DISS. III. PART I. 3 8
506
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
struct mirrors both plane and spherical. They
made them also conical; and it appears from
Plutarch, that the fire of Vesta, when extin¬
guished, was not permitted to he rekindled hut
by the rays of the sun, which were condensed
by a conical speculum of copper. The mirrors
with which Archimedes set fire to the Roman
galleys have been subjects of much discussion,
and the fact was long disbelieved, on the ground
of being physically impossible. The experi¬
ments of Kircher and Buffon showed that this
impossibility was entirely imaginary, and that
the effect ascribed to the specula of the Greek
geometer might be produced without much dif¬
ficulty. There remains now no doubt of their
reality. A passage from Aristophanes1 gives
reason to believe that, in his time, lenses of
glass were used for burning, by collecting the
rays of the sun; but in a matter that concerns
the history of science, the authority of a comic
poet and a satirist would not deserve much at¬
tention, if it were not confirmed by more sober
testimony. Pliny, speaking of rock crystal,2 3
says that a globe or ball of that substance was
sometimes used by the physicians for collecting
the rays of the sun, in order to perform the
operation of cautery. In another passage, he
mentions the power of a glass globe filled with
water, to produce a strong heat when exposed
to the rays of the sun, and expresses his sur¬
prise that the water itself should all the while
remain quite cold.
With respect to the power of glasses to mag¬
nify objects seen through them, or to render
such objects more distinct, the ancients appear
to have observed ill, and to have reasoned worse.
“ Literae, quamvis minutse et obscurse, per vi-
tream pilam aqua plenum majores clarioresque
cernuntur. Sidera ampliora per nubem adspi-
cienti videntur; quia acies nostra in humido labi-
tur, nec apprehendere quod vult Jideliter potest.”*
This passage, and the speculations concerning
the rainbow in the same place, when they are
considered as containing the opinions of some
of the most able and best-informed men of an¬
tiquity, must be admitted to mark, in a very
striking manner, the infancy of the physical
sciences.
2. FROM ALHAZEN TO KEPLER.
An interval of nearly a thousand years divid¬
ed Ptolemy from Alhazen, who, in the history
of optical discovery, appears as his immediate
successor. This ingenious Arabian lived in the
eleventh century, and his merit can be more
fairly, and will be more highly appreciated, now
that the work of his predecessor has become
known. The merit of his book on Optics was al¬
ways admitted; but he was supposed to have bor¬
rowed much from Ptolemy, without acknowledg¬
ing it; and the prejudices entertained in favour
of a Greek author, especially of one who had been
for so many years a legislator in science, gave
a false impression, both of the genius and the
integrity of his modern rival. The work of Al¬
hazen is, nevertheless, in many respects, supe¬
rior to that of Ptolemy, and in nothing more
than in the geometry which it employs. The
problem known by his name, to find the point
in a spherical speculum, at which a ray coming
from one given point shall be reflected to ano¬
ther given point, is very well resolved in his
book, though a problem of so much difficulty,
that Montucla hazards the opinion, that no Ara¬
bian geometer was ever equal to the solution of
it.4 It is now certain, however, that the solu¬
tion, from whatever quarter it came, was not
borrowed from Ptolemy, in whose work no men¬
tion is made of any such question; and it may
very well be doubted, whether, had this problem
1 Aristophanis Nules, v. 766. edit. Brunck.
2 Hist. Nat. lib. xxxvii. cap. ii.
3 Seneca, Nat. Quasst. lib. i. cap. vi. ..
4 Barrow, in bis 9th lecture, says of this problem, that it may truly be called as hardly any one more rti c
had then been attempted by geometers. He adds, that, after trying the analysis in many different ways, he had oun
nothing preferable to the solution of Alhazen, which he therefore gives, only freed from the prolixness and obscurity wi .
which the original is chargeable. (Lectioncs Opticcc, sect. 9, p. 65.) A very elegant solution of the same problem is give
by Simson, at the end of his Conic Sections.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
507
been proposed to him, the Greek geometer would
have appeared to so much advantage as the
Arabian.
The account which the latter gives of the
augmentation of the diameters of the heavenly
bodies near the horizon, has been already men¬
tioned. He treated also of the refraction of
light by transparent bodies, and particularly of
the atmospheric refraction; but not with the
precision of Ptolemy, whose optical treatise De-
lambre seems to think it probable that he had
never seen. The anatomical structure of the
eye was known to him; concerning the uses of
the different parts he had only conjectures to
offer; but on seeing single with two eyes, he
made this very important remark, that, when
corresponding parts of the retina are affected,
we perceive but one image.
Prolixity and want of method are the faults
of Alhazen. Vitello,1 * a learned Pole, comment¬
ed on his works, and has very much improved
their method and arrangement in a treatise pub¬
lished in 1270. He has also treated more fully
of the subject of refraction, and reduced the re¬
sults of his experiments into the form of a table,
exhibiting the angles of refraction corresponding
to the angles of incidence, which he had tried in
water and glass. It was not, however, till long
after this period that the law which connects
these angles was discovered. The cause of re¬
fraction appeared to him to be the resistance
which the rays suffer in passing into the denser
medium of water or glass ; and one can see in
his reasoning an obscure idea of the resolution
of forces. He also treats of the rainbow, and
remarks, that the altitude of the sun and bow
together always amount to 42 degrees. He next
considers the structure of the eye, of which he
has given a tolerably accurate description: and
proves, as Alhazen had before done,8 that vision
is not performed by the emission of rays from
the eye.
Roger Bacon, distinguished for pursuing the
path of true philosophy in the midst of an age
of ignorance and error, belongs to the same pe¬
1 The name of this author is commonly written Vitellio.
his own name.
* Alhazev, Opt. lib. i.
3 Smith’s Optics, vol. II. Remarks, sect. 70.
riod, and applied to the study of optics with
peculiar diligence. It does not appear, however,
that he added much to the discoveries of Alha¬
zen and Ptolemy, with whose writings, particu¬
larly those of the former, he seems to have been
well acquainted. In some things he was much
behind the Arabian optician, as he supposed,
with the ancients, that vision is performed by
rays emitted from the eye. It must, however,
be allowed, that the arguments employed on both
sides of this question are so weak and inconclu¬
sive, as very much to diminish the merit of being
right, and the demerit of being wrong. What
is most to the credit of Bacon, is the near ap¬
proach he appears to have made to the know¬
ledge ot lenses, and their use in assisting vision.
Alhazen had remarked, that small objects, let¬
ters, for instance, viewed through a segment of
a glass sphere, were seen magnified, and that it
is the larger segment which magnifies the most.
The spherical segment was supposed to be laid
with its base on the letters, or other minute ob¬
jects which were to be viewed. Bacon recom¬
mends the smaller segment, and observes, that
the greater, though it magnify more, places the
object farther off than its natural position, while
the other brings it nearer. This shows suffi¬
ciently, that he knew how to trace the progress
of the rays of light through a spherical transpa¬
rent body, and understood, what was the thing
least obvious, how to determine the place of the
image. Smith, in his Optics, endeavours to
show, that these conclusions were purely theo¬
retical, and that Roger Bacon had never made
any experiments with such glasses, notwith¬
standing that he speaks as if he had done so.3
This severe remark proceeds on some slight in¬
accuracy in Bacon’s description, which, how¬
ever, does not seem sufficient to authorize so
harsh a conclusion. The probability appears
rather to be, as Molineux supposed, that Bacon
had made experiments with such glasses, and
was both practically and theoretically acquainted
with their properties. At the same time, it must
be acknowledged, that his credulity on many
may be supposed to have known best the orthography of
508
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
points, and his fondness for the marvellous,
which, with every respect for his talents, it is
impossible to deny, take something away from
the force of his testimony, except when it is very
expressly given. However that may be in the
present case, it is probable that the knowledge
of the true properties of these glasses, whether
it was theoretical or practical, may have had a
share in introducing the use of lenses, and in
the invention of spectacles, which took place not
long after.
It would he desirable to ascertain the exact
period of an invention of such singular utility as
this last; one that diffuses its advantages so
widely, and that contributes so much to the so¬
lace and comfort of old age, by protecting the
most intellectual of the senses against the gene¬
ral progress of decay. In the obscurity of a
dark age, careless about recording discoveries of
which it knew not the principle or the value, a
few faint traces and imperfect indications serve
only to point out certain limits within which the
thing sought for is contained. Seeking for the
origin of a discovery, is like seeking for the
source of a river where innumerable streams
have claims to the honour, between which it is
impossible to decide, and where the only thing
that can he known with certainty is the boun¬
dary by which they are all circumscribed. The
reader will find the evidence concerning the in¬
vention of spectacles very fully discussed in
Smith’s Optics, from which the most probable
conclusion is, that the date goes hack to the
year 1313, and cannot with any certainty he
traced farther.1 2
The lapse of more than two hundred years
brings us down to Maurolycus, and to an age
when men of science ceased to he so thinly scat¬
tered over the wastes of time. Maurolycus,
whose knowledge of the pure mathematics has
been already mentioned, was distinguished for
his skill in optics. He was acquainted with the
crystalline lens, and conceived that its office is
to transmit to the optic nerve the species of ex¬
ternal objects; and in this process he docs not
consider the retina as any way concerned. This
theory, though so imperfect, led him neverthe¬
less to form a right judgment of the defects of
short-sighted and long-sighted eyes. In one of
his first works, Theoremata de Lumine et Umbra,
he also gives an accurate solution of a question
proposed by Aristotle, viz. why the light of the
sun, admitted through a small hole, and received
on a plane at a certain distance from it, always
illuminates a round space, whatever be the figure
of the hole itself; whereas, through a large aper¬
ture, the illuminated space has the figure of the
aperture. To conceive the reason of this, sup¬
pose that the figure of the hole is a triangle; it
is plain that at each angle the illuminated space
will be terminated by a circular arch, of which
the centre corresponds to the angular point, and
the radius to the angle subtended by the sun’s
semidiameter. Thus the illuminated space is
rounded off at the angles ; and when the hole is
so small that the size of those roundings bears a
large proportion to the distance of their centres,
the figure comes near to a circle, and may be to
appearance quite round. This is the true solu¬
tion, and the same with that of Maurolycus.
The same author appears also to have observed
the caustic curve formed by reflection from a
concave speculum.
A considerable step in optical discovery was
made at this time by Baptista Porta, a Neapo¬
litan, who invented the Camera Obscara, about
the year 1560, and described it in a work en¬
titled Magia Naturalis. The light was admitted
through a small hole in the window-shutter of
a dark room, and gave an inverted picture of
the objects from which it proceeded, on the op¬
posite wall. A lens was not employed in the
first construction of this apparatus, but was af¬
terwards used; and Porta went so far as to
consider how the effect might be produced with¬
out inversion. He appears to have been a man
of great ingenuity; and though much of the
Magia Naturalis is directed to frivolous objects,
it indicates a great familiarity with experiment
and observation. It is remarkable, that we find
mention made in it of the reflection of cold by
a speculum,8 an experiment which, of late, has
1 Smith’s Optics, vol. II. Itemarks, sect. lb.
2 Magia Naturalis, lib. xvii. cap. iv. p. 583. Amsterdam edit. 1664.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
509
drawn so much attention, and has been supposed
to he so entirely new. The cold was perceived
by making the focus fall on the eye, which, in
the absence of the thermometer, was perhaps
the best measure of small variations of tempe¬
rature. Porta’s hook was extremely popular;
and when we find it quickly translated into Ita¬
lian, French, Spanish, and Arabic, we see how
much the love of science was now excited, and
what effects the art of printing was now begin¬
ning to produce. Baptista Porta was a man of
fortune, and his house was so much the resort
of the curious and learned at Naples, that it
awakened the jealousy with which the court of
Rome watched the progress of improvement.
How grievous it is to observe the head of the
Christian church in that and the succeeding age,
like the Anarch old in Milton, reigning in the
midst of darkness, and complaining of the en¬
croachments which the realm of light was con¬
tinually making on his ancient empire !
The constitution of the eye, and the functions
of the different parts of which it consists, were
not yet fully understood. Maurolycus had
nearly discovered the secret; and it was but a
thin, though to him an impenetrable veil, which
still concealed one important part of the truth.
This veil was drawn aside by the Neapolitan
philosopher; but the complete discovery of the
truth was left to Kepler, who, to the glory of
finding out the true laws of the planetary sys¬
tem, added that of first analyzing the whole
scheme of nature in the structure of the eye.
He perceived the exact resemblance of this or¬
gan to the dark chamber, the rays entering the
pupil being collected by the crystalline lens, and
the other humours of the eye, into foci, which
paint on the retina the inverted images of exter¬
nal objects. By another step of the process, to
which our analysis can never be expected to
extend, the mind perceives the images thus
formed, and refers them at the same time to
things without.
It seemed a great difficulty, that, though the
images he inverted, the objects are seen erect;
but when it is considered that each point in the
object is seen in the direction of the line in
which the light passes from it to the retina,
through the centre of the eye, it will appear that
the upright position of the object is a necessary
consequence of this arrangement.
Kepler’s discovery is explained in his Para-
lipomena in Vitellionem,1 (Remarks on the Optics
of Vitello) a work of great genius, abounding
with new and enlarged views, though mixed occa¬
sionally with some unsound and visionary specu¬
lations. This book appeared in 1604. In the
next article we shall have occasion to return to
the consideration of other parts of Kepler’s op¬
tical discoveries.
3. FROM KEPLER TO THE COMMENCEMENT OF NEWTON’S OPTICAL DISCOVERIES.
The rainbow had, from the earliest times,
been an object of interest with those who be¬
stowed attention on optical appearances; but it
is much too complicated a phenomenon to be
easily explained. In general, however, it was
understood to arise from light reflected by the
drops of rain falling from a cloud opposite to
the sun. The difficulty seemed to be, how to
account for the colour, which is never produced
in white light, such as that of the sun, by mere
reflection. Maurolycus advanced a considerable
step when he supposed that the light enters the
drop, and acquires colour by refraction; but in
tracing the course of the ray he was quite be¬
wildered. Others supposed the refraction and
the colour to be the effect of one drop, and the
reflection of another; so that two refractions
and one reflection were employed, but in such
a manner as to be still very remote from the
truth.
Antonio de Bominis, archbishop of Spalatro,
had the good fortune to fall upon the true ex¬
planation. Having placed a bottle of water op¬
posite to the sun, and a little above his eye, he
saw a beam of light issue from the under side
of the bottle, which acquired different colours,
in the same order and with the same brilliancy
as in the rainbow, when the bottle was a little
1 Caput v. De Modo Visionis.
510
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
raised or depressed. From comparing all the
circumstances, he perceived that the rays had
entered the bottle, and that, after two refractions
from the convex part, and a reflection from the
concave, they were returned to the eye tinged
with different colours, according to the angle at
which the ray had entered. The rays that gave
the same colour made the same angle with the
surface, and hence all the drops that gave the
same colour must be arranged in a circle, the
centre of which was the point in the cloud op¬
posite to the sun. This, though not a complete
theory of the rainbow, and though it left a great
deal to occupy the attention, first of Descartes,
and afterwards of Newton, was perfectly just,
and carried the explanation as far as the prin¬
ciples then understood allowed it to go. The
discovery itself may be considered as an ano¬
maly in science, as it is one of a very refined
and subtile nature, made by a man who has
given no other indication of much scientific sa¬
gacity or acuteness. In many things his writings
show great ignorance of principles of optics well
known in his own time; so that Boscovich, an
excellent judge in such matters, has said of
him, “ homo opticarum rerum, supra id quod
patiatur ea retas, imperitissimus.” The book con¬
taining this discovery was published in 1611.1
A discovery of the same period, but somewhat
earlier, will always be considered as among the
most remarkable in the whole circle of human
knowledge. It is the invention of the telescope,
the work in which (by following unconsciously
the plan of nature in the formation of the eye)
man has come the nearest to the construction of
a new organ of sense. For this great invention,
in its original form, we are indebted to accident,
or to the trials of men who had little knowledge
of the principles of the science on which they
were conferring so great a favour. A series of
scientific improvements, continued for more
than two hundred years, has continually added
to the perfection of this noble instrument, and
has almost entitled science to consider the tele¬
scope as its own production.
It will readily be believed, that the origin of
such an invention has been abundantly inquired
into. The result, however, as is usual in such
cases, has not been quite satisfactory; and all
that is known with certainty is, that the honour
belongs to the town of Middleburg in Zealand,
and that the date is between the last ten years
of the sixteenth century and the first ten of the
seventeenth. Two different workmen belonging
to that town, Zachariah Jans and John Lap-
prey, have testimonies in their favour, between
which it is difficult to decide: the former goes
back to 1590, the latter comes down to about
1610. It is not of much consequence to settle
the priority in a matter which is purely acci¬
dental ; yet one would not wish to forget or
mistake the names of men whom even chance
had rendered so great benefactors to science.
What we know with certainty is, that the ac¬
count of the effect produced by this new combi¬
nation of glasses being carried to Galileo in
1610, led that great philosopher to the construc¬
tion of the telescope, and to the interesting dis¬
coveries already enumerated. By what prin¬
ciple he was guided to the combination, which
consists of one convex and one concave lens, he
has not explained, and we cannot now exactly
ascertain. He had no doubt observed, that a
convex lens, such as was common in spectacles,
formed images of objects, which were distinctly
seen when thrown on a wall or on a screen. He
might observe also, that if the image, instead of
falling on the screen, were made to fall on the
eye, the vision was confused and indistinct. In
the trials to remedy this indistinctness by means
of another glass, it would be found that a con¬
cave lens succeeded when placed before the eye,
the eye itself being also a little more advanced
than the screen had been.
This instrument, though very imperfect, com¬
pared with those which have been since con¬
structed, gave so much satisfaction, that it re¬
mained long without any material improvement.
Descartes, whose treatise on Optics was written
near thirty years after the invention of the tele¬
scope, makes no mention of any but such as is
composed of a convex object-glass and a con¬
cave eye-glass. The theory of it, indeed, was
given by Kepler in his Dioptrics, in 1611, when
1 De Radiis Lucis in Vitris perspcctivis et h ide. Venetiis, 4to.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
511
he also pointed out the astronomical telescope,
or that which is composed of two convex lenses,
and inverts the objects. He did not, however,
construct a telescope of that kind, which appears
to have been first done by Scheiner, who has
given an account of it in the Rosa Ursina, in
1650, quoted by Montucla.1
After the invention of the telescope, that of
the microscope was easy; and it is also to Gali¬
leo that we are indebted for this instrument,
which discovers an immensity on the one side
of man, scarcely less wonderful than that which
the telescope discovers on the other. The ex¬
tension and divisibility of matter are thus ren¬
dered to the natural philosopher almost as unli¬
mited as the extension and the divisibility of
space are to the geometer.
The theory of the telescope, now become the
main object in optical science, required that the
law of refraction should, if possible, be accurate¬
ly ascertained. This had not yet been effected;
and Kepler, whose Dioptrics was the most per¬
fect treatise on refraction which had yet appear¬
ed, had been unable to determine the general
principle which connects the angles of incidence
and refraction. In the case of glass, he had
found by experiment, that those angles, when
small, are nearly in the ratio of three to two;
and on this hypothesis he had found the focus of
a double convex lens, when the curvature of both
sides is equal, to be the centre of curvature of
the side turned toward the object,—a proposition
which is known to coincide with experiment.
From the same approximation he derived other
conclusions, which were found useful in prac¬
tice, in the cases where the angles just mention¬
ed were very small.
The discovery of the true law of refraction
was the work of Snellius, the same mathemati¬
cian whose labours concerning the figure of the
earth were before mentioned. In order to ex¬
press this law, he supposed a perpendicular to
the refracting surface, at the point where the
refraction is made, and also another line paral¬
lel to this perpendicular at any given distance
from it. The refracted ray, as it proceeds, will
meet this parallel, and the incident ray is sup¬
posed to be produced, till it do so likewise. Now,
the general truth which Snellius found to hold,
whatever was the position of the incident ray,
is, that the segments of the refracted ray and of
the incident ray, intercepted by these parallels,
had always the same ratio to one another. If
either of the media were changed, that through
which the incident ray, or that through which
the refracted ray passed, this ratio would be
changed; but wdfile the media remained the same,
the ratio continued unalterable. It is seldom
that a general truth is seen at first under the
most simple aspect: this law admits of being
more simply expressed; for, in the triangle form¬
ed by the two segments of the rays, and by the
parallel which they intersect, the said segments
have the same ratio with the sines of the oppo¬
site angles, that is, with the sines of the angles
of incidence and refraction. The law, therefore,
comes to this, that, in the refraction of light by
the same medium, the sine of the angle of inci¬
dence has to the sine of the angle of refraction
always the same ratio. This last simplification
did not occur to Snellius; it is the work of Des¬
cartes, and was first given in his Dioptrics, in
1637, where no mention is made of Snellius, and
the law of refraction appears as the discovery of
the author. This naturally gave rise to heavy
charges against the candour and integrity of the
French philosopher. The work of Snellius had
never been published, and the author himself
was dead; but the proposition just referred to
had been communicated to his friends, and had
been taught by his countryman Professor Flor-
tensius, in his lectures. There is no doubt,
therefore, that the discovery was first made by
Snellius; but whether Descartes derived it from
him, or was himself the second discoverer, re¬
mains undecided. The question is one of those,
where a man’s conduct in a particular situation
can only be rightly interpreted from his general
character and behaviour. If Descartes had been
uniformly fair and candid in his intercourse with
others, one would have rejected with disdain a
suspicion of the kind just mentioned. But the
truth is, that he appears throughout a jealous
and suspicious man, always inclined to depress
1 Yol. II. p. 234. 2d edit.
512
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
and conceal the merit of others. In speaking of
the inventor of the telescope, he has told minute¬
ly all that is due to accident, but has passed
carefully over all that proceeded from design,
and has incurred the reproach of relating the
origin of that instrument, without mentioning
the name of Galileo. In the same manner, he
omits to speak of the discoveries of Keplei, so
nearly connected with his own 5 and in tieating
of the rainbow, he has made no mention of An¬
tonio de Dominis. It is impossible that all this
should not produce an unfavourable impression;
and hence it is, that even the warmest admirers
of Descartes do not pretend that his conduct to¬
ward Snellius can he completely justified.
Descartes would have conceived his philoso¬
phy to he disgraced if it had borrowed any ge¬
neral principle from experience, and he therefore
derived, or affected to derive, the law of refrac¬
tion from reasoning or from theory. In this
reasoning there were so many arbitrary suppo¬
sitions concerning the nature of light, and the
action of transparent bodies, that no confidence
can he placed in the conclusions deduced from
it. It is indeed quite evident that, independent¬
ly of experiment, Descartes himself could have
put no trust in it; and it is impossible not to feel
how much more it would have been for the credit
of that philosopher to have fairly confessed that
the knowledge of the law was from experiment,
and that the business of theory was to deduce
from thence some inferences with respect to the
constitution of light and of transparent bodies.
This I conceive to he the true method of philo¬
sophizing, hut it is the reverse of that which
Descartes pursued on all occasions.
The weakness of his reasoning was perceived
and attacked by Fermat, who, at the same time,
was not very fortunate in the theory which he
proposed to substitute for that of his rival. The
latter had laid it down as certain, that light, of
which he supposed the velocity infinite, or the
propagation instantaneous, meets with less ob¬
struction in dense than in rare bodies, for which
reason, it is refracted toward the perpendicular,
in passing from the latter into the former. This
seemed to Fermat a very improbable supposi¬
tion, and he conceived the contrary to he true,
viz. that light in rare bodies has less obstruc¬
tion, and moves with greater velocity, than in
dense bodies. On this supposition, and appeal¬
ing, not to physical, hut to final causes, Fermat
imagined to himself that he could deduce the
true law of refraction. He conceived it to be a
fact that light moves always between two points,
so as to go from the one to the other in the least
time possible. Hence, in order to pass from a
given point in a rarer medium where it moves
faster, to a given point in a denser medium
where it moves slower, so that the time may be
a minimum, it must continue longer in the for¬
mer medium than if it held a rectilineal course;
and the bending of its path, on entering the lat¬
ter, will therefore he toward the perpendicular.
On instituting the calculus, according to his own
doctrine of maxima and minima, Fermat found,
to his surprise, that the path of the ray must he
such, that the sines of the angles of incidence
and refraction have a constant ratio to one an¬
other. Thus did these philosophers, setting out
from suppositions entirely contrary, and follow¬
ing routes which only agreed in being quite un-
philosophical and arbitrary, arrive, by a very
unexpected coincidence, at the same conclusion.
Fermat could no longer deny the law of refrac¬
tion, as laid down by Descartes; but he was less
than ever disposed to admit the justness of his
reasoning.
Descartes proceeded from this to a problem
which, though suggested by optical considera¬
tions, wms purely geometrical, and in which his
researches were completely successful. It was
well known that, in the ordinary cases of re¬
fraction by spherical and other surfaces, the rays
are not collected into one point, but have their
foci spread over a certain surface, the sections
of which are the curves called caustic curves;
and that the focus of opticians is only a point in
this surface, where the rays are more condensed,
and, of course, the illumination more intense,
than in other parts of it. It is plain, however,
that if refraction is to be employed, either for
the purpose of producing light or heat, it would
bo a great advantage to have all the rays which
come from the same point of an object united
accurately, after refraction, in the same point of
the image. This gave rise to an inquiry into
the figure which the superficies, separating two
DISSERTATION THIRD.
513
transparent media of different refracting powers,
must have, in order that all the rays diverging
from a given point might, by refraction at the
said superficies, be made to converge to another
given point.1 The problem was resolved by
Descartes in its full extent; and he proved that
the curves, proper for generating such super¬
ficies hy their revolution, are all comprehended
under one general character, viz. that there are
always two given points, from which, if straight
lines be drawn to any point in the curve, the
one of these, plus or minus, that which has a
given ratio to the other, is equal to a given line.
It is evident, when the given ratio here men¬
tioned is a ratio of equality, that the curve is a
conic section, and the two given points its two
foci. The curves, in general, are of the fourth
or the second order, and have been distinguish¬
ed by the name of the ovals of Descartes.
From this very ingenious investigation, no
practical result of advantage in the construction
of lenses has been derived. The mechanical
difficulties of working a superficies into any
figure but a sphei’ical one are so great, that, not¬
withstanding all the efforts of Descartes himself
and of many of his followers, they have never
been overcome; so that the great improvements
in optical instruments have arisen in a quarter
entirely different.
Descartes gave also a full explanation of the
rainbow,® as far as colour was not concerned; a
part of the problem which remained for Newton
to resolve. The path of the ray was traced, and
the angles of the incident ray, with that which
emerges after two refractions and one reflec¬
tion, were accurately determined. Descartes paid
little attention to those who had gone before him,
and, as already remarked, never once mentioned
the archbishop of Spalatro. Like Aristotle, he
seems to have formed the design of cutting off
the memory of all his predecessors; but the in¬
vention of printing had made this a far more
hopeless undertaking than it was in the days of
the Greek philosopher.
After the publication of the Dioptrics of Des¬
cartes, in 1637, a considerable interval took
place, during which optics, and indeed science
in general, made but little progress, till the Op¬
tica Promota of James Gregory, in 1663, seemed
to put them again in motion. The author of
this work, a profound and inventive geometer,
had applied diligently to the study of optics and
the improvement of optical instruments. The
Optica Promota embraced several new inquiries
concerning the illumination and distinctness of
the images formed in the foci of lenses, and
contained an account of the reflecting telescope,
still known by the name of its author. The
consideration which suggested this instrument
was the imperfection of the images formed bv
spherical lenses, in consequence of which, they
are not in plane, but in curved surfaces. The
desire of removing this imperfection led Gregory
to substitute reflection for refraction in the con¬
struction of telescopes ; and by this means, while
he was seeking to remedy a small evil, he pro¬
vided the means of avoiding a much greater one,
with which he was not yet acquainted, viz. that
which arises from the unequal refrangibility of
light. The attention of Newton was about the
same time drawn to the same subject, but with
a perfect knowledge of the defect which he
wanted to remove. Gregory thought it neces¬
sary that the specula should be of a pai’abolic
figure; and the execution proved so difficult,
that the instrument, during his own life, was
never brought to any perfection. The specula
were afterwards constructed of the ordinary
spherical form, and the Gregorian telescope, till
the time of Dr Herschel, was more in use than
the Newtonian.
Gregory was Professor of Mathematics at St
Andrews, and afterwards for a short time at
Edinburgh. His writings strongly mark the
imperfect intercourse which subsisted at that
time between this country and the Continent.
Though the Optics of Descartes had been pub¬
lished twenty-five years, Gregory had not heard
of the discovery of the law of refraction, and had
found it out only by his own efforts;—happy in
being able, by the fertility of his genius, to
supply the defects of an insulated and remote
situation.
A course of lectures on optics, delivered at
1 Cartesii Di opt rice, cap. viii,; Geometria, lib. ii.
DISS. III. Part I.
2 Meteoia, cap. viii.
3 T
514
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Cambridge in 1668, by Dr Barrow, and pub¬
lished in the year following, treated of all the
more difficult questions which had occurred in
that state of the science, with the acuteness and
depth which are found in all the writings ol
that geometer. This work contains some new
views in optics, and a great deal of profound
mathematical discussion.
About this time Grimaldi, a learned Jesuit,
the companion of Riccioli, in his astronomical
labours, made known some optical phenomena
which had hitherto escaped observation. They
respected the action of bodies on light, and when
compared with reflection and refraction, might
be called, in the language of Bacon’s philosophy,
crepuscular instances, indicating an action of the
same kind, but much weaker and less percep¬
tible. Having stretched a hair across a sun¬
beam, admitted through a hole in the window-
shutter of a dark chamber, he was surprised to
find the shadow much larger than the natural
divergence of the rays could have led him to
expect. Other facts of the same kind made
known the general law of the diffraction or in¬
flection of light, and showed that the rays are
acted on by bodies, and turned out of their rec¬
tilineal course, even when not in contact, but
at a measurable distance from the surfaces or
edges of such bodies. Grimaldi gave an account
of those facts in a treatise printed at Bologna
in 1665.1
Optics, as indeed all the branches of Natural
Philosophy, have great obligations to Huygens.
The former was among the first scientific ob¬
jects which occupied his mind; and his Diop¬
trics, though a posthumous work, is most of it
the composition of his early youth. It is writ¬
ten with great perspicuity and precision, and is
said to have been a favourite book with Newton
himself. Though beginning from the first ele¬
ments, it contains a full development of the
matters of greatest difficulty in the construction
of telescopes, particularly in what concerns the
indistinctness arising from the imperfect foci
into which rays are united by spherical lenses ;
and rules are deduced for constructing tele¬
scopes, which, though of different sizes, shall
have the same degree of distinctness, illumina¬
tion, &c. Huygens was, besides, a practical op¬
tician ; he polished lenses and constructed tele¬
scopes with his own hands, and some of his ob¬
ject-glasses were of the enormous focal distance
of 130 feet. To his Dioptrics is added a valu¬
able treatise De Formandis Vitris.
In the history of optics, particular attention
is due to his theory of light, which was first
communicated to the Academy of Sciences of
Paris, in 1678, and afterwards published, with
enlargements, in 1690.2
Light, according to this ingenious system,
consists in certain undulations communicated
by luminous bodies to the ethereal fluid which
fills all space. This fluid is composed of the
most subtile matter, is highly elastic, and the
undulations are propagated through it with great
velocity in spherical superficies proceeding from
a centre. Light, in this view of it, differs from
that of the Cartesian system, which is supposed
to be without elasticity, and to convey impres¬
sions instantaneously, as a staff does from the
object it touches to the hand which holds it.
It is not, however, in this general view that
the ingenuity of the theory appears, but in its
application to explain the equality of the angles
of incidence and reflection; and, most of all,
the constant ratio which subsists between the
sines of the angles of incidence and of refrac¬
tion. Few things are to be met with more
simple and beautiful than this hist application of
the theory; but that which is most remarkable
of all is, the use made of it to explain the double
refraction of Iceland crystal. This crystal, which
is no other than the calcareous spar of mineral¬
ogists, has not only the property of refracting light
in the usual manner of glass, water, and other
transparent bodies, but it has also another povrer
of refraction, by which even the rays falling
perpendicularly on the surface of the crystal are
turned out of their course, so that a double
image is formed of all objects seen through these
crystals. This property belongs not only to
calcareous spar, but, in a greater or less degree,
1 Physico-Mathesis de Lumine, Coloribus, SfC. 4to.
1 Traite de la Lumiirc. Levde, Hi DO.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
515
to all substances which are both crystallized
and transparent.
The common refraction is explained by Huy¬
gens, on the supposition that the undulations
in the luminous fluid are propagated in the form
of spherical waves. The double refraction is
explained on the supposition that the undula¬
tions of light, in passing through the calcareous
spar, assume a spheroidal form; and this hypo¬
thesis, though it does not apply with the same
simplicity as the former, yet admits of such pre¬
cision, that a proportion of the axes of the sphe¬
roids may be assigned, which will account for
the precise quantity of the extraordinary refrac¬
tion, and for all the phenomena dependent on it,
which Huygens had studied with great care, and
had reduced to the smallest number of general
facts. That these spheroidal undulations ac¬
tually exist, he would, after all, be a bold theo¬
rist who should affirm ; but, that the supposition
of their existence is an accurate expression of
the phenomena of double refraction, cannot be
doubted. When one enunciates the hypothesis
of the spheroidal undulations, he, in fact, ex¬
presses in a single sentence all the phenomena
of double refraction. The hypothesis is there¬
fore the means of representing these phenomena,
and the laws which they obey, to the imagina¬
tion or the understanding; and there is perhaps
no theory in optics, and but very few in natural
philosophy, of which more can be said. Theory,
therefore, in this instance, is merely to be re¬
garded as the expression of a general law; and
in that light, I think, it is considered by La-
p^ce.
To carry the theory of Huygens farther, and
to render it quite satisfactory, a reason ought to
be assigned why the undulations of the luminous
fluid are spheroidal in the case of crystals, and
spherical in all other cases. This would be to
render the generalization more complete; and
till that is done, and a connection clearly estab¬
lished between the structure of crystallized bo¬
dies and the property of double refraction, the
theory will remain imperfect. The attention
which at present is given to this most singular
and interesting branch of optics, and the great
number of new phenomena observed and classed
under the head of the Polarisation of Light, make
it almost certain that this object will be either
speedily accomplished, or that science has here
reached one of the immovable barriers by which
the circle of human knowledge is to be for ever
circumscribed.
c
• .
DISSERTATION THIRD.
PART SECOND.
FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF NEWTON’S DISCOVERIES TO THE YEAR 1818-
In the former part of this sketch, the history
of each division of the sciences was continued
without interruption, from the beginning1 to the
end. During the period, however, on which I
am now to enter, the advancement of knowledge
has been so rapid, and marked by such distinct
steps, that several pauses or resting-places occur,
of which it may he advisable to take advantage.
Were the history of any particular science to he
continued for the whole of the busy interval
which this second part embraces, it would leave
the other sciences too far behind, and would
make it difficult to perceive the mutual action
by which they have so much assisted the pro¬
gress of one another. Considering some sort of
subdivision, therefore, as necessary, and observ¬
ing, in the interval which extends from the first
of Newton’s discoveries to the year 1818, three
different conditions of the Physico-Mathematical
sciences, well marked and distinguished by great
improvements, I have divided the above interval
into three corresponding parts. The first of
these, reaching from the commencement of New¬
ton’s discoveries in 1668, to a little beyond his
death, or to 1730, may be denominated, from
the men who impressed on it its peculiar charac¬
ter, the period of Newton and Leibnitz. The
second, which, for a similar reason, I call that
of Euler and D’Alembert, may he regarded
as extending from 1730 to 1780; and the third,
that of Lagrange and Laplace, from 1780 to
1818.
PERIOD FIRST.
SECTION I.
THE NEW GEOMETRY.
The seventeenth century, which had advan- series of philosophical discoveries yet recorded
ced with such spirit and success in combating in the history of letters. It was about to wit-
prejudice, detecting error, and establishing truth, ness, in succession, the invention of Fluxions,
was destined to conclude with the most splendid the discovery of the Composition of Light, and
518
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
of the Principle of Universal Gravitation,—all
three within a period of little more than twenty
years, and all three the work of the same indi¬
vidual. It is to the first of these that our atten¬
tion at present is to he particularly directed.
The notion of Infinite Quantity had, as we
have already seen, been for some time introdu¬
ced into geometry, and having become a subject
of reasoning and calculation, had, in many in¬
stances, after facilitating the process of both,
led to conclusions from which, as if by magic,
the idea of infinity had entirely disappeared, and
left the geometer or the algebraist in possession
of valuable propositions, in which were involved
no magnitudes but such as could be readily ex¬
hibited. The discovery of such results had in¬
creased both the interest and extent of mathe¬
matical investigation.
It was in this state of the sciences that New¬
ton began his mathematical studies, and, after a
very short interval, his mathematical discove¬
ries.1 2 The book, next to the elements, which
was put into his hands, was Wallis’s Arithmetic
of Infinites, a work well fitted for suggesting new
views in geometry, and calling into activity the
powers of mathematical invention. Wallis had
effected the quadrature of all those curves in
which the value of one of the co-ordinates can
be expressed in terms of the other, without in¬
volving either fractional or negative exponents.
Beyond this point, neither his researches nor
those of any other geometer had yet reached,
and from this point the discoveries of Newton
began. The Savilian professor had himself been
extremely desirous to advance into the new re¬
gion, where, among other great objects, the quad¬
rature of the circle must necessarily be contain¬
ed ; and he made a very noble effort to pass the
barrier by which the undiscovered country ap¬
peared to be defended. He saw plainly, that if
the equations of the curves which he had squar¬
ed were ranged in a regular series, from the
simpler to the more complex, their areas would
constitute another corresponding series, the
terms of which were all known. He farther re¬
marked, that, in the first of these series, the
equation to the circle itself might be introduced,
and would occupy the middle place between the
first and second terms of the series, or between
an equation to a straight line and an equation to
the common parabola. He concluded therefore,
that if, in the second series, he could interpolate
a term in the middle, between its first and se¬
cond terms, this term must necessarily be no
other than the area of the circle. But when he
proceeded to pursue this very refined and phi¬
losophical idea, he was not so fortunate; and
his attempt toward the requisite interpolation,
though it did not entirely fail, and made known
a curious property of the area of the circle, did
not lead to an indefinite quadrature of that
curve.® Newton was much more judicious and
successful in his attempt. Proceeding on the
same general principle with Wallis, as he him¬
self tells us, the simple view which he took of
the areas already computed, and of the terms of
which each consisted, enabled him to discover the
law which was common to them all, and under
which the expression for the area of the circle,
as well as of innumerable other curves, must
needs be comprehended. In the case of the circle,
as in all those where a fractional exponent ap¬
peared, the area was exhibited in the form of an
infinite series.
The problem of the quadrature of the circle,
and of so many other curves, being thus resolv¬
ed, Newton immediately remarked, that the law
of these series was, with a small alteration, the
law for the series of terms which expresses the
root of any binomial quantity whatsoever. Thus
he was put in possession of another valuable dis¬
covery, the Binomial Theorem, and at the same
time perceived that this last was in reality, in
the order of things, placed before the other, and
afforded a much easier access to such quadratures
than the method of interpolation, which, though
the first road, appeared now neither to be the
easiest nor the most direct.
It is but rarely that we can lay hold with cer¬
tainty of the thread by which genius has been
1 He entered at Trinity College, Cambridge, in June 1(560. The date of his first discoveries is about 1063.
2 The interpolation of Wallis failed, because he did not employ literal or general exponents. His theorem, expressing
the area of the entire circle by a fraction, of which the numerator and denominator are each the continued product of a
certain series of numbers, is a remarkable anticipation of some of Euler’s discoveries. (Calc. Jnt. tom. I. cap. viii )
DISSERTATION THIRD.
519
guided in its first discoveries. Here we are pro ¬
ceeding on the authority of the author himself;
for in a letter to Oldenburg,1 * 3 Secretary of the
Royal Society of London, he has entered into
considerable detail on this subject, adding, (so
ready are the steps of invention to he forgotten)
that the facts would have entirely escaped his
memory, if he had not been reminded of them
by some notes which he had made at the time,
and which he had accidentally fallen on. The
whole of the letter just referred to is one of the
most valuable documents to he found in the his¬
tory of invention.
In all this, however, nothing occurs from which
it can be inferred that the method of fluxions had
yet occurred to the inventor. His discovery con¬
sisted in the method of reducingthe value of ?/, the
ordinate of a curve, into an infinite series of the
integer powers of x the abscissa, by division, or
the extraction of roots, that is, by the Binomial
Theorem; after which, the part of the area belong¬
ing to each term could be assigned by the arith¬
metic of infinites, or other methods already known.
He has assured us himself, however, that the
great principle of the new geometry was known
to him, and applied to investigation, as early as
1665 or 1666.a Independently of that authori¬
ty, we also know, on the testimony of Barrow,
that soon after the period just mentioned there
was put into his hands by Newton a manuscript
treatise,5 the same which was afterwards pub¬
lished under the title of Analysis per JEqua-
tiones Nnmero Terminomm Infinitas, in which,
though the instrument of investigation is no¬
thing else than infinite series, the principle of
fluxions, if not fully explained, is at least dis¬
tinctly pointed out. Barrow strongly exhorted
his young friend to publish this treasure to the
world ; but the modesty of the author, of which
the excess, if not culpable, was certainly in the
present instance very unfortunate, prevented his
compliance. All this was previous to the year
1669; the treatise itself was not published till
1711, more than forty years after it w as written.
For a long time, therefore, the discovenes of
Newton were only known to his friends; and
the first work in which he communicated any
thing to the world on the subject of fluxions was
in the first edition of the Principia, in 1687, in
the second Lemma of the second book, to which,
in the disputes that have since arisen about the
invention of the new analysis, reference has been
so often made. The principle of the fluxionary
calculus was there pointed out, but nothing ap¬
peared that indicated the peculiar algorithm, or
the new notation, which is so essential to that
calculus. About this New'ton had yet given no
information ; and it was only from the second
volume of Wallis’s Works, in 1698, that it be¬
came known to the world.4 It vais no less than
ten years after this, in 1704, that Newton him¬
self first published a work on the new calculus,
his Quadrature of Curves, more than twenty-
eight years after it was written.
These discoveries, however, even before the
press was employed as their vehicle, could not
remain altogether unknown in a country where
the mathematical sciences were cultivated with
zeal and diligence. Barrow, to whom they were
first made known by the author himself, com¬
municated them to Oldenburg, the Secretary of
the Royal Society, wlto had a very extensive cor¬
respondence all over Europe. By him the series
for the quadrature of the circle were made known
to James Gregory, in Scotland, who had oc¬
cupied himself very much with the same subject.
They were also communicated to Leibnitz in Ger¬
many, who had become acquainted with Olden¬
burg in a visit which he made to England in
1673. At the time of that visit, Leibnitz was
but little conversant with the Mathematics ; but
having afterwards devoted his great talents to
1 Commercium Epistolicum, No. 55.
* Quadrature of Curves, Introduction.
3 Comrnercuim Epistohcum, No. I- II. III. &.e.
4 AVallis says, that he had inserted in the English edition of his book, published in 1685, several extracts from Newton’s
Letters, “ Omissis multis aliis inibi notatu dig nix, eo quod speraverim clarissimnm virum voluisse him ilia, turn alia quae amid
ipsum previit, edidisse. Cum vero iilud nondum fecerit, libct eorum iwnnulla hie attingcre, ne peieant." Among these last is an
account of the fluxionary notation, according to which the fluxions of flowing quantities are distinguished by points,
and also of certain applications of this new algorithm, extracted from two letters of Newton, written in 1792. {Opera,
tom. II. p. 390, &c.) There is no evidence of his notation having existed earlier than that date, though it be highly
probable that it did.
520
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the study of that science, he was soon m a con¬
dition to make new discoveries. He invented a
method of squaring the circle, by transforming
it into another curve of an equal area, but bai -
ing the ordinate expressed by a rational traction
of the absciss, so that its area could be found by
the methods already known. In this way he
discovered the series, so remarkable lor its sim¬
plicity, which gives the value of a circular arch
in terms of the tangent. This series he com¬
municated to Oldenburg in 1674, and received
from him in return an account of the progress
made by Newton and Gregory in the invention
of series. In 1676, Newton described his me¬
thod of quadratures at the request of Olden¬
burg, in order that it might be transmitted to
Leibnitz, in the two letters already mentioned,
as of such value, by recording the views which
guided that great geometer in his earliest, and
some of his most important discoveries. The
method of fluxions is not communicated in these
letters; nor are the principles of it in any way
suggested; though there are, in the last letter,
two sentences in transposed characters, which
ascertain that Newton was then in possession of
that method, and employed in speaking of it the
same language in which it was afterwards made
known. In the following year, Leibnitz, in
a letter to Oldenburg, introduces differentials,
and the methods of his calculus, for the first
time. This letter,1 which is very important,
clearly proves that the author was then in lull
possession of the principles of his calculus, and
had even invented the algorithm and notation.
From these facts, and they are all that bear
directly on the question concerning the inven¬
tion of the infinitesimal analysis, if they be fair¬
ly and dispassionately examined, I think that no
doubt can remain that Newton was the first in¬
ventor of that analysis, which he called by the
name of Fluxions; but that, in the communica¬
tions made by him, or his friends, to Leibnitz,
there was nothing that could convey any idea
of the principle on which that analysis was
founded, or of the algorithm which it involved.
The things stated were merely results; and
though some of those relating to the tangents of
curves might show the author to be in possession
of a method of investigation different from infi¬
nite series, yet they afforded no indication of
the nature of that method, or the principles on
which it proceeded.
In what manner Newton’s communications
in the two letters already referred to may have
acted in stimulating the curiosity, and extending,
or even directing, the Hews of such a man as
Leibnitz, I shall not presume to decide (nor,
even if such effect be admitted, will it take
from the originality of his discoveries); but, that
in the authenticated communications which took
place between these philosophers there was no¬
thing which could make known the nature of
the fluxionary calculus, I consider as a fact most
fully established.
Of the new or infinitesimal analysis, we
are, therefore, to consider Newton as the first
inventor, Leibnitz as the second; his disco¬
very, though posterior in time, having been
made independently of the other, and having no
less claim to originality. It had the advantage
also of being first made known to the world;
an account of it, and of its peculiar algorithm,
having been inserted in the first volume of the
Acta Eruditorum, in 1684. Thus, while New¬
ton’s discovery remained a secret, communicated
only to a few friends, the geometry of Leibnitz
was spreading with great rapidity over the Con¬
tinent. Two most able coadjutors, the brothers
James and John Bernoulli, joined their talents
to those of the original inventor, and illustrated
the new methods by the solution of a great va¬
riety of difficult and interesting problems. The
reserve of Newton still kept his countrymen ig¬
norant of his geometrical discoveries; and the
first book that appeared in England on the new
geometry was that of Craig, who professedly
derived his knowledge from the writings of
Leibnitz and his friends. Nothing, however,
like rivalship or hostility between these inventors
had yet appeared; each seemed willing to admit
the originality of the other’s discoveries; and
Newton, in the passage of the Principia just re¬
ferred to, gave a highly favourable opinion on
the subject of the discoveries of Leibnitz.
1 Conimerclum Ejpistolicum, No. 6G.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
521
The quiet, however, that now prevailed be¬
tween the English and German philosophers,
was clearly of a nature to be easily disturbed.
With the English was conviction, and, as we
have seen, a well-grounded conviction, that
the first discovery of the infinitesimal analysis
was the property of Newton; but the analysis
thus discovered was yet unknown to the pub¬
lic, and was in the hands of the inventor and
his friends. With the Germans there was the
conviction, also well founded, that the invention
of their countryman was perfectly original; and
they had the satisfaction to see his calculus
everywhere adopted, and himself considered all
over the Continent as the sole inventor. The
friends of Newton could not but resist this latter
claim; and the friends of Leibnitz, seeing that
their master had become the great teacher of
the new calculus, could not easily bring them¬
selves to acknowledge that he was not the first
discoverer. The tranquillity that existed under
such circumstances, if once disturbed, was not
likely to be speedily restored.
Accordingly, a remark of Fatio de Duillier, a
mathematician, not otherwise very remarkable,
was sufficient to light up a flame which a whole
century has been hardly sufficient to extinguish.
In a paper on the line of swiftest descent, which
he presented to the Royal Society in 1699* was
this sentence: <c I hold Newton to have been
the first inventor of this calculus, and the earliest,
by several years, induced by the evidence of
facts; and whether Leibnitz, the second in¬
ventor, has borrowed any thing from the other,
I leave to the judgment of those who have seen
the letters and manuscripts of Newton.” Leib¬
nitz replied to this charge in the Leipsic Journal,
without any asperity, simply stating himself to
have been, as well as Newton, the inventor;
neither contesting nor acknowledging Newton’s
claim to priority, but asserting his own to the
first publication of the calculus.
Not long after this, the publication of New¬
ton’s Quadrature of Curves, and his Enumeration
of the lines of the third order, (1705) afforded the
same journalists an opportunity of showing their
determination to retort the insinuations of Du¬
illier, and to carry the war into the country of
the enemy. After giving a very imperfect
synopsis of the first of these books, they add:
“ Pro differentiis igitur Leibnitianis D. Newtonus
adhibet, semperque adhibuit, jluxiones; qua sunt
quamproximo utfluentium augmenta, cequalibus tem-
poris particidis quam minimis genita; Usque, turn in
suis Principiis Natures Mathematicis, turn in aliis
postea editis, eleganter est usus; quemadmodum
Honoratus Fabrius in sua Synopsi Geometrica
motuum progressus Cavalieriance methodo substi-
tuit.”1
In spite of the politeness and ambiguity of
this passage, the most obvious meaning appeared
to be, that Newton had been led to the notion
of fluxions by the differentials of Leibnitz, just
as Honoratus Fabri had been led to substitute
the idea of progressive motion for the indivisibles
of Cavalieri. A charge so entirely unfounded,
so inconsistent with acknowledged facts, and so
little consonant to declarations that had former¬
ly come from the same quarter, could not but
call forth the indignation of Newton and his
friends, especially as it was known that these
journalists spoke the language of Leibnitz and
Bernoulli. In that indignation they were per¬
fectly justified; but when the minds of con¬
tending parties have become irritated in a cer¬
tain degree, it often happens that the injustice
of one side is retaliated by an equal injustice
from the opposite. Accordingly, Keill, who,
with more zeal than judgment, undertook the
defence of Newton’s claims, instead of endea¬
vouring to establish the priority of his disco¬
veries by an appeal to facts and to dates that
could be accurately ascertained, (in which he
would have been completely successful) under¬
took to prove, that the communications of New¬
ton to Leibnitz were sufficient to put the latter
in possession of the principles of the new ana¬
lysis, after which he had only to substitute the
notion of differentials for that of fluxions. In
support of a charge which it would have re¬
quired the clearest and most irresistible evidence
to justify, he had, however, nothing to offer but
equivocal facts and overstrained arguments,
such as could only convince those who were al-
1 Commercium Ephtoliatm, No. 79 : Newtoxi Opera, tom. IV. j). 577-
3 u
BISS. III. PART II.
522
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ready disposed to believe. They were, accord¬
ingly, received as sound reasoning in England,
rejected as absurd in Germany, and read with
no effect by the mathematicians of France and
Italy.
Leibnitz complained of Keill’s proceeding to
the Royal Society of London, which declined
giving judgment, but appointed a commission of
its members to draw up a full and detailed re¬
port of all the communications which had passed
between Newton and Leibnitz, or their friends,
on subjects connected with the new analysis,
from the time of Collins and Oldenburg to the
date of Keill’s letter to Sir Hans Sloane in 1711,
the same that was now complained of. This re¬
port forms what is called the Commercium Epis-
tolicum ; it was published by order of the Royal
Society the year following, and contains an ac¬
count of the facts, which, though in the main
fair and just, does not give that impression of
the impartiality of the reporters which the cir¬
cumstances so imperiously demanded. Leib¬
nitz complained of this publication, and al¬
leged, that though nothing might be inserted
that was not contained in the original letters,
yet certain passages were suppressed which were
favourable to his pretensions. He threatened
an answer, which, however, never appeared.
Some notes were added to the Commercium,
which contain a good deal of asperity and un¬
supported insinuation. The Recensio, or review
of it, inserted in the Philosophical Transactions
for 1715, though written with ability, is still
more liable to the same censure.
In the year (1713) which followed the publi¬
cation of the Commercium Epistolicum, a para¬
graph was circulated among the mathematicians
of Europe, purporting to be the judgment of a
mathematician on the invention of the new ana¬
lysis. The author was not named, but was
generally understood to be John Bernoulli, of
which, indeed, the terms in which Leibnitz
speaks of the judgment leave no room to doubt.
Bernoulli was without question well acquainted
with the subject in dispute; he was a perfect
master of the calculus; he had been one of the
great instruments of its advancement; and, ex¬
cept impartiality, possessed every requisite for a
judge. Without offence it might be said, that
he could scarcely be accounted impartial. He
had been a party in all that had happened.
Warmly attached as he was to the one side,
and greatly exasperated against the other, his
temper had been more frequently ruffled, and
his passions or prejudices more violently excited,
than those of any other individual. With all
his abilities, therefore, he was not likely to
prove the fairest and most candid judge, in a
cause that might almost be considered as his own.
His sentence, however, is pronounced in calm
and temperate language, and amounts to this,
That there is no reason to believe that the fluxion-
ary calculus was invented before the differential.
The friends of Leibnitz hurt their own cause,
by attempting to fix on Newton a charge of pla¬
giarism, which was refuted by such a chain of
evidence, by so many dates distinctly ascertain¬
ed, and so many concessions of their own. A
candid review of the evidence led to the con¬
viction, that both Newton and Leibnitz were
original inventors. When the English mathe¬
maticians accused Leibnitz of borrowing from
Newton, they were, therefore, going much far¬
ther than the evidence authorized them, and
were mistaking their own partialities for proofs.
They maintained what was not true, but what,
nevertheless, was not physically impossible, the
discovery of Newton being certainly prior to that
of Leibnitz. The German mathematicians, on
the other hand, when they charged Newton with
borrowing from Leibnitz, were maintaining what
was not only false, but what involved an impos¬
sibility. This is the only part of the dispute, in
which any thing that could be construed into
mala fldes can be said to have appeared. I am
far, however, from giving it that construction ;
men of such high character, both for integrity
and talents, as Leibnitz and Bernoulli, ought
not to be lightly subjected to so cruel an impu¬
tation. Partiality, prejudice, and passion, are
sufficient to account for much injustice, without
a decided intention to do wrong.
In the state of hostility to which matters were
now brought, the new analysis itself was bad re¬
course to, as affording to either side abundant
means of annoying its adversaries, by an inex¬
haustible supply of problems, accessible to those
alone who were initiated in the doctrines, and
DISSERTATION THIRD.
523
who could command the resources of that ana¬
lysis. The power of resolving' such problems,
therefore, seemed a test Avhether this analysis
was understood or not. Already some questions
of this kind had been proposed in the Leipsic
Journal, not as defiances, but as exercises in the
new geometry. Such was the problem of the
Catenaria, or the curve, which a chain of uni¬
form weight makes when suspended from two
points. This had been proposed by Bernoulli
in 1690, and had been resolved by Huygens,
Leibnitz, and himself.
A question had been proposed, also, concern¬
ing the line of swiftest descent, in 1697, or
the line along which a body must descend, in
order to go from one point to another not per¬
pendicularly under it, in the least time possible.
Though a straight line be the shortest distance
between two points, it does not necessarily fol¬
low that the descent in that line will be most
speedily performed; for, by falling in a curve
that has at first a very rapid declivity, the body
may acquire in the beginning ot its motion so
great a velocity, as shall carry it over a long
line in less time than it would describe a short
one, with a velocity more slowly acquired. This,
however, is a problem that belongs to a class ot
questions of peculiar difficulty; and accordingly
it was resolved only by a few ot the most dis¬
tinguished mathematicians. The solutions which
appeared within the time prescribed were from
Leibnitz, Newton, the two Bernoullis, and M.
de PHopital. Newton’s appeared in the Philo¬
sophical Transactions without a name; but the
author was easily recognised. John Bernoulli,
on seeing it, is said to have exclaimed, Ex ungue
leonem !
The curve that has the property required is
the cycloid: Newton has given the construction,
but has not accompanied it with the analysis.
He added afterwards the demonstration of a very
curious theorem for determining the time of the
actual descent. Leibnitz resolved the problem
the same day that he received the programme in
which it was proposed.
The problem of orthogonal trajectories, as it
is called, had been long ago proposed in the Acta
Eruditorum, with an invitation to all who were
skilled in the new analysis to attempt the solu¬
tion. The problem had not, at first, met with
the attention it was supposed to deserve; but
John Bernoulli, having resumed the considera¬
tion of it, found out what appeared a very per¬
fect and very general solution; and the question
was then (1716) proposed anew by Leibnitz, for
the avowed purpose of trying the skill of the
English mathematicians. The question is,—a
system of curves described according to a known
law being given, (all the hyperbolas, for instance,
that are described between the same assymp-
totes, or all the parabolas that have the same
directrix, and that pass through the same point,
&c.) to describe a curve which shall cut them
all at right angles. This may be considered as
the first defiance professedly aimed at the Eng¬
lish mathematicians. The problem was delivered
to Newton on his return from the Mint, when
he was much fatigued with the business of the
day : he resolved it, however, the same evening;
and his solution, though without a name, is given
in the Philosophical Transactions for 1716.1
This solution, however, only gave rise to new
quarrels; for hardly anything so excellent could
come from the one side, that it could meet with
the entire approbation of the other. Newton’s,
indeed, was rather the plan or projet of an in¬
vestigation, than an actual solution; and, in
the general view which it took of the question,
could hardly provide against all the difficulties
that might occur in the application to particular
cases. Tins was what Bernoulli objected to,
and affected to treat the solution as of no value.
Brook Taylor, Secretary of the Royal Society,
and well known as one of the ablest geometers
of the time, undertook the defence of it, but
concluded with using language very reprehen¬
sible, and highly improper to be directed by one
man of science against another. Having suffi¬
ciently, as he supposed, replied to Bernoulli
and his friends, he adds, “ if they are not satis¬
fied with the solution, it must be ascribed to
their own ignorance.”'2 It strongly marks the
temper by which both sides were now animated,
when a man like Taylor, eminent for profound
» Vol. XXIX. p. 399.
2 Eorum imperitiae tribuendum est.
524
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
science, and, in general, very much disposed to
do justice to the merits of others, should so for¬
get himself as to reproach with ignorance of the
calculus one of the men who understood it the
best, and who had contributed the most to its
improvement. The irritability and prejudices of
Bernoulli admitted of no defence, and he might
very well have been accused of viewing the so¬
lution of Newton through a medium disturbed
by their action; but to suppose that he was un¬
able to understand it, was an impertinence that
could only react on the person who was guilty
of it. Bernoulli was not exemplary for his pa¬
tience ; and it will be readily believed, that the
incivility of Taylor was sufficiently revenged.
It is painful to see men of science engaged in
such degrading altercation; and I should be in¬
clined to turn from so disagreeable an object, if
the bad effects of the spirit thus excited were
not such as must again obtrude themselves on
the notice of the reader.
Taylor not long after came forward with an
open defiance to the whole Continent, and pro¬
posed a problem, Omnibus geometris non Anglis,
—a problem, of course, which he supposed that
the English mathematicians alone were suffi¬
ciently enlightened to resolve. He selected one,
accordingly, of very considerable difficulty,—
the integration of a fluxion of a complicated
form ; which, nevertheless, admitted of being
done in a very elegant manner, known, I be¬
lieve, at that time to very few of the English
mathematicians,—to Cotes, to himself, and per¬
haps one or two more. The selection, never¬
theless, was abundantly injudicious; for Ber¬
noulli, as long ago as 1702, had explained the
method of integrating this, and such like for¬
mulas, both in the Paris Menioires and in the
Leipsic Acts. The question, accordingly, was
no sooner proposed than it was answered in a
manner the most clear and satisfactory; so the
defiance of Taylor only served to display the
address and augment the triumph of his adver¬
sary.
The last and most unsuccessful of these chal¬
lenges was that of Keill, of whose former ap¬
pearance in this controversy we have already
had so much more reason to commend the zeal
than the discretion. Among the problems in
the mixed mathematics which had excited most
attention, and which seemed best calculated to
exercise the resources of the new analysis, was
the determination of the path of a projectile in
a medium which resists proportionally to the
square of the velocity, that being nearly the law
of the resistance which the air opposes to bodies
moving with great velocity. The resistance of
fluids had been treated of by Newton in the
second book of the Principia, and he had inves¬
tigated a great number of curious and import¬
ant propositions relative to its effects. He had
considered some of the simpler laws of resist¬
ance; but of the case just mentioned he had
given no solution, and, after approaching as
near as possible to it on all sides, had with¬
drawn without making an attack. A problem
so formidable was not likely to meet with many
who, even in the more improved state at which
the calculus had now arrived, could hope to
overcome its difficulties. Whether Keill had
flattered himself that he could resolve the pro¬
blem, or had forgotten, that when a man pro¬
poses a question of defiance to another, he ought
to be sure that he can answer it himself, may
be doubted ; but this is certain, that, without
the necessary preparation, he boldly challenged
Bernoulli to produce a solution.
Bernoulli resolved the question in a very
short time, not only for a resistance propor¬
tional to the square, but to any power whatso¬
ever of the velocity; and by the conditions which
he affixed to the publication of his solution, took
care to expose the weakness of his antagonist.
He repeatedly offered to send his solution to a
confidential person in London, providing Keill
would do the same. Keill never made any re¬
ply to a proposal so fair, that there could only
be one reason for declining it. Bernoulli, of
course, exulted over him cruelly, breaking out
in a torrent of vulgar abuse, and losing sight of
every maxim of candour and good taste.
Such, then, were the circumstances under
which the infinitesimal analysis,—the greatest
discovery ever made in the mathematical sci¬
ences,—was ushered into the world. Every¬
where, as it became known, it enlarged the
views, roused the activity, and increased the
power of the geometer, while it directed the
DISSERTATION THIRD.
525
warmest sentiments of his gratitude and admi¬
ration toward the great inventors. In one re¬
spect only its effects were different from those
which one would have wished to see produced.
It excited jealousy between two great men who
ought to have been the friends of one another,
and disturbed in both that philosophical tran¬
quillity of mind, for the loss of which even
glory itself is scarcely an adequate recompense.
In order to form a correct estimate of the
magnitude and value of this discovery, it may
be useful to look back at the steps by which the
mathematical sciences had been prepared for it.
When we attempt to trace those steps to their
origin, we find the principle of the infinitesimal
analysis making its first appearance in the me¬
thod of exhaustions, as exemplified in the writ¬
ings of Euclid and Archimedes. These geo¬
meters observed, and, for what we know, were
the first to observe, that the approach which
a rectilineal figure may make to one that is
curvilineal, by the increase of the number of its
sides, the diminution of their magnitude, and a
certain enlargement of the angles they contain,
may be such that the properties of the former
shall coincide so nearly with those of the latter,
that no real difference can be supposed between
them without involving a contradiction ; and it
was in ascertaining the conditions of this ap¬
proach, and in showing the contradiction to be
unavoidable, that the method of exhaustions
consisted. The demonstrations were strictly
geometrical, but they were often complicated,
always indirect, and of course synthetical, so
that they did not explain the means by which
they had been discovered.
At the distance of more than two thousand
years, Cavalieri advanced a step farther, and,
by the sacrifice of some apparent, though of no
real accuracy, explained, in the method of indi¬
visibles, a principle which could easily be made
to assume the more rigid form of exhaustions.
This was a very important discovery: though
the process was not analytical, the demonstra¬
tions were direct, and, when applied to the same
subjects, led to the same conclusions which the
ancient geometers had deduced. By an indirect
proof also, such as those geometers had adopted,
it could always be shown that an absurdity fol¬
lowed from supposing the results deduced from
the method of indivisibles to be other than rigo-
i-ously true.
The method of Cavalieri was improved and
extended by a number of geometers of great
genius who followed him ; Torricelli, Roberval,
Fermat, Huygens, Barrow, who all observed the
great advantage that arose from applying the
general theorems concerning variable quantity
to the cases where the quantities approached to
one another infinitely near, that is, nearer than
within any assigned difference. There was,
however, as yet, no calculus adapted to these re¬
searches, that is, no general method of reasoning
by help of arbitrary symbols.
But we must go back a step in point of time,
if we would trace accurately the history of this
last improvement. Descartes, as has been shown
in the former part of this outline, made a great
revolution in the mathematical sciences, by ap¬
plying algebra to the geometry of curves; or,
more generally, by applying it to express the re¬
lations of variable quantity. This added in¬
finitely to the value of the algebraic analysis,
and to the extent of its investigations. The
same great mathematician had observed the ad¬
vantage that would be gained in the geometry
of curves, by considering the variable quantities
in one state of an equation as differing infinitely
little from the corresponding quantities in an¬
other state of the same equation. By means
grounded on this he had attempted to draw tan¬
gents to curves, and to determine their curva¬
ture ; but it is seldom the destination of nature
that a new discovery should be begun and per¬
fected by the same individual; and, in these at¬
tempts, though Descartes did not entirely fail,
he cannot be considered as having been suc¬
cessful. 1
At last came the two discoverers, Newton and
Leibnitz, who completely lifted up the veil which
their predecessors had been endeavouring to draw
aside. They plainly saw, as Descartes indeed
had done in part, that the infinitely small vari¬
ations of the ordinate and absciss are closely con ■
1 Dissertation Third, Part i. p. 444.
526
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
nected with many properties of the curve, which
have but a very remote dependence on the ordi¬
nates and abscissae themselves. Hence they in¬
ferred, that to obtain an equation expressing
the relations of these variations to one another,
was to possess the most direct access to the
knowledge of those properties. They observed
also, that when an equation of this kind was
deduced from the general equation, it admitted
of being brought to great simplicity, and of
being resolved much more readily than the
other. In effect, it assumed the form of a
simple equation; but, in order to make this
deduction in the readiest and most distinct way,
the introduction of new symbols, or of a new
algorithm, was necessary, the invention of which
could cost but little to the creative genius of the
men of whom I now speak. They appear, as
has been already shown, to have made their dis¬
coveries separately;—Newton first,—Leibnitz
afterwards, at a considerable interval, yet the
earliest, by several years, in communicating his
discoveries to the world.
Thus, though there had been for ages a gra¬
dual approach to the new analysis, there were in
that progress some great and sudden advances
which elevated those who made them to a much
higher level than their predecessors. A great
number of individuals co-operated in the work;
but those who seem essential, and in the direct
line of advancement, are Euclid, Cavalieri, Des¬
cartes, Newton, and Leibnitz. If any of the
others had been wanting, the world would have
been deprived of many valuable theorems, and
many collateral improvements, but not of any
general method essential to the completion of
the infinitesimal analysis.
The views, however, of this analysis taken
by the two inventors were not precisely the
same. Leibnitz, considering the differences of
the variable quantities as infinitely small, con¬
ceived that he might reject the higher powers
of those differences without any sensible error;
so that none of those powers but the first re¬
mained in the differential equation finally ob¬
tained. The rejection, however, of the higher
powers of the differentials was liable to objec¬
tion, for it had the appearance of being only an
approximation, and did not come up to the per¬
fect measure of geometrical precision. The
analysis, thus constituted, necessarily divided
itself into two problems: the first is,—having
given an equation involving two or more vari¬
able quantities, to find the equation expressing
the relation of the differentials, or infinitely
small variations of those quantities : the second
is the converse of this;—having given an equa¬
tion involving two or more variable quantities,
and tbeir differentials, to exterminate the differ¬
entials, and so to exhibit the variable quantities
in a finite state. This last process is called in¬
tegration in the language of the differential ana¬
lysis, and the finite equation obtained is called
the integral of the given differential equation.
Newton proceeded in some respects different¬
ly, and so as to preserve his calculus from the
imputation of neglecting or throwing away any
thing merely because it was small. Instead of
the actual increments of the flowing or variable
quantities, he introduced what he called the
fluxions of those quantities,—meaning, by flux¬
ions, quantities which had to one another the
same ratio which the increments had in their ul¬
timate or evanescent state. He did not reject
quantities, therefore, merely because they were
so small that he might do so without committing
any sensible error, but because he must reject
them, in order to commit no error whatsoever.
Fluxions were, with him, nothing else than mea¬
sures of the velocities with which variable or
flowing quantities were supposed to be generated;
and they might be of any magnitude, providing
they were in the ratio of those velocities, or,
which is tbe same, in the ratio of the nascent or
evanescent increments.1 The fluxions, there¬
fore, and the flowing quantities or fluents of
Newton, correspond to the differentials and tbe
sums or integrals of Leibnitz; and though tbe
symbols which denote fluxions are different from
those used to express differentials, they answer
1 “ I consider mathematical quantities in this place, not as consisting of small parts, but as described by a continued mo¬
tion. Lines are described, and thereby generated, not by the apposition of parts, but by the continued motion of points;
superficies by the motion of lines,” &c. ‘ {Quadrature of Curves, Introduction.)
DISSERTATION THIRD.
527
precisely the same purpose. The fluxionary and
differential calculus may therefore he considered
as two modifications of one general method, aptly
distinguished by the name of the infinitesimal
analysis.
By the introduction of this analysis, the do¬
main of the mathematical sciences was incre¬
dibly enlarged in every direction. The great
improvement which Descartes had made by the
application of algebraic equations to define the
nature of curve lines was now rendered much
more efficient, and carried far beyond its origi¬
nal boundaries. From the equation of the curve
the new analysis could deduce the properties of
the tangents, and, what was much more diffi¬
cult, could go back from the properties of the
tangents to the equation of the curve. From
the same equation it was able to determine the
curvature at every point; it could measure the
length of any portion of the curve or the area
corresponding to it. Nor was it only to alge¬
braic curves that those applications of the calcu¬
lus extended, but to curves transcendental and
mechanical, as in the instances of the catenaria,
the cycloid, the elastic curve, and many others.
The same sort of research could be applied to
curve surfaces described according to any given
law, and also to the solids contained by them.
The problems which relate to the maxima and
minima, or the greatest and least values of vari¬
able quantities, are among the most interesting
in the Mathematics : they are connected with
the highest attainments of wisdom and the great¬
est exertions of power; and seem like so many
immovable columns erected in the infinity of
space, to mark the eternal boundary which se¬
parates the regions of possibility and impossi¬
bility from one another. For the solution of
these problems, a particular provision seemed
to be made in the new geometry.
When any function becomes either the great¬
est or the least, it does so by the velocity of its
increase or of its decrease ceasing entirely, or,
in the language of algebra, becoming equal to
nothing. But when the velocity with which the
function varies becomes nothing, the fluxion
which is proportional to that velocity must be¬
come nothing also. Therefore, it is only neces¬
sary to take the fluxion of the given function,
and by supposing it equal to nothing, an equa¬
tion will be obtained in finite terms, (for the
fluxion will entirely disappear) expressing the
relation of the quantities when the function as¬
signed is the greatest or the least possible.
Another kind of maximum or minimum,
abounding also in interesting problems, is more
difficult by far than the preceding, and, when
taken generally, seems to be only accessible to
the new analysis. Such cases occur when the
function of the variable quantities which is to
be the greatest or the least is not given, but is
itself the thing to be found; as when it is pro¬
posed to determine the line by which a heavy
body can descend in the least time from one
point to another. Here the equation between
the co-ordinates of the curve to be found is, of
course, unknown, and the function of those co¬
ordinates, which denotes the time of descent,
cannot therefore be algebraically expressed, so
that its fluxion cannot be taken in the ordinary
way, and thus put equal to nothing. The for-
ivier rule, then, is not applicable in such cases,
and it is by no means obvious in what manner
this difficulty is to be overcome. The general
problem exercised the ingenuity of both the
Bernoullis, as it has since done of many other
mathematicians of the greatest name. As there
are in such problems always two conditions, ac¬
cording to the first of which a certain property
is to remain constant, or to belong to all the in¬
dividuals of the species, and, according to the
second, another property is to be the greatest or
the least possible; and as, in some of the simplest
of such questions,1 the constant quantity is the
circumference or perimeter of a certain curve,
so problems of this kind have had the name of
Isoperimetrical given them; a term which has
thus come to denote one of the most curious and
difficult subjects of mathematical investigation.
The new analysis, especially according to the
1 The most simple problem of the kind is strictly and literally isoperimetrical, viz. of all curves having the same perimeter,
to find that which has the greatest area. Elementary geometry had pronounced this curve to be the circle long before
there was any idea of an entire class of problems characterized by similar conditions. Vide Pappi Alexandrini Collect. Math.
lib. v. prop. 2. &c.
523
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
view taken of it by Newton, is peculiarly ad¬
apted to physical researches, as the hypothesis
of quantities being generated by continued mo¬
tion comes there to coincide exactly with the
fact. The momentary increments or the fluxions
represent so precisely the forces by which the
changes in nature are produced, that this doc¬
trine seemed created for the express purpose of
penetrating into the interior of things, and tak¬
ing direct cognizance of those animating powers
which, by their subtilty, not only elude the ob¬
servation of sense, but the ordinary methods of
geometrical investigation. The infinitesimal
analysis alone affords the means of measuring
forces, when each acts separately, and instan¬
taneously under conditions that can be accurate¬
ly ascertained. In comparing the effects of con¬
tinued action, the variety of time and circum¬
stance, and the continuance of effects after their
causes have ceased, introduce so much uncer¬
tainty, that nothing but vague and unsatisfac¬
tory conclusions can be deduced. The analysis
of infinites goes directly to the point; it mea¬
sures the intensity or instantaneous effort of the
force, and, of course, removes all those causes
of uncertainty which prevailed when the results
of continued action could alone be estimated. Tt
is not even by the effects produced in a short
time, but by effects taken in their nascent or
evanescent state, that the true proportion of causes
must be ascertained.
Thus, though the astronomers had proved that
the planets describe ellipses round the sun as the
common focus, and that the line from the sun to
each planet Sweeps over areas proportional to
the time,—had not the geometer resolved the
elliptic motion into its primary elements, and
compared them in their state of evanescence, it
would never have been discovered that these
bodies gravitate to the sun with forces which are
inversely as the square of their distances from
the centre of that luminary. Thus, fortunately,
the first discovery of Newton was the instrument
which was to conduct him safely through all the
intricacies of his future investigations.
The calculus, as already remarked, necessari¬
ly divides itself into two branches; one which,
from the variable quantities, finds the relation of
their fluxions or differentials; another which,
from the relation of these last, investigates the
relation of the valuable quantities themselves.
The first of these problems is always possible,
and, in general, easy to be resolved; the second
is not always possible, and when possible, is
often very difficult, but in various degrees, ac¬
cording to the manner in which the differentials
and the variable quantities are combined with
one another.
If the function into which the differential
stands multiplied consist of a single term, or an
aggregate of terms, in each of which the vari¬
able quantity is raised to a power expounded
by a number positive, negative, or fractional,
the integration can be effected with ease, either
in algebraic or logarithmic terms; and the cal¬
culus had not been long known before this pro¬
blem was completely resolved.
The second case of this first division is,—when
the given function is a fraction having a binomial
or multinomial denominator, the terms of which
contain any powers whatever of the variable
magnitude, but without involving the radical
sign. If the denominator contain only the sim¬
ple power of the variable quantity, the integral
is easily found by logarithms; if it be complex,
it must be resolved either into simple or qua¬
dratic divisors, which, granting the solution of
equations, is always possible, at least by ap¬
proximation, and the given fraction is then
found equal to an aggregate of simple fractions,
having these divisors for their denominators,
and of which the fluents can always be exhibit¬
ed in algebraic terms, or in terms of logarithms
and circular arches. This very general and im¬
portant problem was resolved by J. Bernoulli
as early as the year 1702.
The denominator is in this last case supposed
rational; but if it be irrational, the integration
requires other means to be employed. Here
Leibnitz and Bernoulli both taught how, by
substitutions, as in Diophantine problems, the
irrationality might be removed, and the integra¬
tion of course reduced to the former case. New¬
ton employed a different method, and, in his
Quadrature of Curves, found the fluents, by com¬
paring the given fluxion with the formulas im¬
mediately derived from the expression of circu¬
lar or hyperbolic areas. The integrations of
DISSERTATION THIRD.
529
these irrational formulae, whichever of the me¬
thods be employed, often admit of being effected
with singular elegance and simplicity; but a
general integration of all the formulae of this
kind, except by approximation, is not yet with¬
in the power of analysis.
The second general division of the problem
of integration, viz. when the two variable quan¬
tities and their differentials are mixed together
on each side of the equation, is a more difficult
subject of inquiry than the preceding. It may
indeed happen that an equation, which at first
presents itself under this aspect, can, by the
common rules of algebra, have the quantities
so separated, that on each side of the sign of
equality there shall be but one variable quan¬
tity with its fluxion; and when this is done, the
integration is reduced to one of the cases al¬
ready enumerated.
When such separation cannot be made, the
problem is among the most difficult which the
infinitesimal analysis presents, at the same time
that it is the key to a vast number of interest¬
ing questions both in the pure and the mixed
mathematics. The two Bernoullis applied them¬
selves strenuously to the elucidation of it; and
to them we owe all the best and most accurate
methods of resolving such questions which ap¬
peared in the early history of the calculus, and
which laid the foundation of so many subse¬
quent discoveries. This is a fact which cannot
be contested; and it must be acknowledged also,
that on the same subject the writings of the
English mathematicians were then, as they con¬
tinue to be at this day, extremely defective. New¬
ton, though he had treated of this branch of the
infinitesimal analysis with his usual ingenuity
and depth, had done so only in his work on
Fluxions, which did not see the light till several
years after his death, when, in 1736, it appear¬
ed in Colson’s Translation. But that work, even
had it come into the hands of the public in the
author’s lifetime, would not have remedied the
defect of which I now speak. When the fluxion¬
ary equation could not be integrated by the
simplest and most elementary rules, Newton had
always recourse to approximations by infinite
series, in the contrivance of which he indeed
displayed great ingenuity and address. But an
approximation, let it be ever so good, and con¬
verge ever so rapidly, is always inferior to an
accurate and complete solution, if this last pos¬
sess any tolerable degree of simplicity. The
series which affords the approximation cannot
converge always, or in all states of the variable
quantity; and its utility, on that account, is so
much limited, that it can hardly lead to any
general result. Besides, it does not appear that
these series can always be made to involve the
arbitrary or indeterminate quantity, without
which no fluent can be considered as complete.
For these reasons, such approximations should
never be resorted to till every expedient has
been used to find an accurate solution. To this
rule, however, Newton’s method does not con¬
form, but employs approximation in cases where
the complete integral can be obtained. The
tendency of that method, therefore, however
great its merit in other respects, was to give a
direction to research which was not always the
best, and which, in many instances, made it fall
entirely short of the object it ought to have at¬
tained. It is true that many fluxionary equa¬
tions cannot be integrated in any other way;
but by having recourse to it indiscriminately,
we overlook the cases in which the integral can
be exactly assigned. Accordingly, Bernoulli,
by following a different process, remarked entire
classes of fluxionary or differential equations,
that admitted of accurate integration. Thus he
found, that differential equations, if homoge¬
neous, 1 however complicated, may always have
the variable quantities separated, so as to come
under one of the simpler forms already enume¬
rated. By the introduction, also, of exponential
equations, which had been considered in England
as of little use, he materially improved this
branch of the calculus.
To all these branches of analysis we have still
another to add of indefinite extent, arising out
of the consideration of the fluxions or differen¬
tials of the higher orders, each of these orders
1 Homogeneous equations, in the differential calculus, are those in which the sum of the exponents of the variable quanti¬
ties is tiie same in all the terms.
DISS. III. PART II. 3 X
530
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
being deduced from the preceding, just as first
fluxions are from the variable quantities to which
they belong. To understand this, conceive the
successive values of the first fluxions of any va¬
riable quantity to constitute a new series of
variable quantities flowing with velocities, the
measures of which form the fluxions of the se¬
cond order, from which, in the same manner,
are deduced fluxions of the third and of still
higher orders. The general principles are the
same as in the fluxions of the first order, but
the difficulties of the calculus are greater, par¬
ticularly in the integrations; for, to rise from
second fluxions to the variable quantities them¬
selves, two integrations are necessary; from third
fluxions, three; and so on.
The tract which first made known the new
analysis was that of Leibnitz, published, as al¬
ready remarked, in the first volume of the Acta
Eruditorum for 1684, where it occupies no more
than six pages,1 and is the work of an author
not yet become very familiar with the nature of
his own invention. It was sufficient, however,
to explain that invention to mathematicians;
but, nevertheless, some years elapsed before it
drew much attention. The Bernoullis were the
first who perceived its value, and made them¬
selves masters of the principles and methods
contained, or rather suggested, in it. Leibnitz
published many other papers in the Acta Erudi¬
torum and the journals of the times, full of ori¬
ginal views and important hints, thrown out
very briefly, and requiring the elucidations which
his friends just mentioned were always so will¬
ing and so able to supply. The number of li¬
terary and scientific objects which divided the
attention of the author himself was so great,
that he had not time to bestow on the illustra¬
tion and development of the most important of
his own discoveries; and the new analysis, for
all that he has taught, would have been very
little known, and very imperfectly unfolded, if
the two excellent geometers just named had not
come to his assistance. Their tracts were also,
like his, scattered in the different periodic works
of that time; and several years elapsed before
any elementary treatise explained the general
methods, and illustrated them by examples. The
first book in which this was done, so far at least
as concerned the differential or direct calculus,
was the Analyse des infiniment Petits of the Mar¬
quis de I’Hopital, published in 1696; a work of
great merit, which did much to diffuse the know¬
ledge of the new analysis. It was well received
at that time, and has maintained its character
to the present day. The author, a man of ge¬
nius, indefatigable and ardent in the pursuits of
science, had enjoyed the viva voce instructions
of John Bernoulli, on the subject of the new
geometry, and therefore came forward with
every possible advantage.
It was long after this before the works of the
Bernoullis were collected together, those of
James in two quarto volumes, and of John in
four.* In the third of these last volumes is a
tract of considerable length, with the title of
Lectiones de Methodo Integralium, written in 1691
and 1692, for the use of M. de I’Hopital, to
whose book on the Differential Calculus it seems
to have been intended as a sequel. It is a work
of great merit; and affords a distinct view of
many of the most general methods of integra¬
tion, with their application to the most interest¬
ing problems; so that, though the earliest trea¬
tise on that subject, it remains at this day one
of the best compends of the new analysis of
which the mathematical world is in possession.
Indeed the whole of the volumes just referred
to are highly interesting, as containing the ori¬
ginal germs of the new analysis, and as being
the work of men always inspired by genius,
sometimes warmed by opposition, and generally
animated by the success which accompanied
their researches.
But we must now look at the original works
of the earliest inventor. Newton, besides his
letters published in the Commercium Epistolicum,
is the author of three tracts on the new ana¬
lysis that have all been occasionally mentioned.
None of them, however, appeared nearly so soon
as a great number of the pieces which have just
been enumerated. The Quadrature of Curves,
1 Nova Methodas pro Maximis et Minimis, &c. : Leibnitii Opera, tom. III. p. 107-
® Those of James were published at Geneva in 1744; of John, at Lausanne and Geneva in 1742.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
531
written as early as 1665 or 1666, did not appear
till 1704; and thongh it be a treatise of great
value, and containing very important and very
general theorems concerning the quadrature of
curves, it must be allowed that it is not well
adapted to make known the spirit and the views
of the infinitesimal analysis. After a short in¬
troduction, which is indeed analytical, and which
explains the idea of a fluxion with great brevity
and clearness, the treatise sets out with pro¬
posing to find any number of curves that can
he squared; and here the demonstrations be¬
come all synthetical, without any thing that may
be properly called analytical investigation. By
synthetical demonstrations I do not mean rea¬
sonings where the algebraic language is not used,
but reasonings, whatever language be employed,
where the solution of the proposed question is
first laid down, and afterwards demonstrated
to be true. Such is the method pursued through¬
out this work; and it is wonderful how many
valuable conclusions concerning the areas of
curves, and their reduction to the areas of the
circle and hyperbola, are in that manner de¬
duced. But though truths can be very well
conveyed in the synthetical way, the methods of
investigating truth are not communicated by it,
nor the powers of invention directed to their
proper objects. As an elementary treatise on the
new analysis, the Quadrature of Curves is there¬
fore imperfect, and not calculated, without great
study, to give to others any portion of the power
which the author himself has exerted. The pro¬
blem of finding fluents, though it be that on
which the whole quadrature of curves depends,
is entirely kept out of view, and never once pro¬
posed in the course of a work which, at the
same time, is full of the most elaborate and pro¬
found reasonings.
Newton had a great fondness for the synthe¬
tical method, which is apparent even in the most
analytical of his works. In his Fluxions, when
he is treating of the quadrature of curves, he
says, <£ After the area of a curve has been found
and constructed, we should consider about the
demonstration of the construction, that, laying
aside all algebraical calculation as much as may
be, the theorem may be adorned and made ele¬
gant, so as to become fit for public view.” 1
This is followed by two or three examples, in
which the rule here given is very happily illus¬
trated. When the analysis of a problem re¬
quires, like the quadrature of curves, the use of
the inverse method of fluxions, the reversion of
that analysis, or the synthetical demonstration,
must proceed by the direct method, and there¬
fore may admit of more simplicity than the
others, so as, in the language of the above pas¬
sage, to be easily adorned and made elegant.
The book of Fluxions is, however, an excel¬
lent work, entering very deeply into the na¬
ture and spirit of the calculus,—illustrating its
application by well-chosen examples,—and only
failing, as already said, by having recourse, for
finding the fluents of fluxionary equations, too
exclusively to the method of series, without
treating of the cases in whieh exact solutions
can be obtained.
Of the works that appeared in the early stages
of the calculus, none is more entitled to notice
than the Harmonia Mensurarum of Cotes. The
idea of reducing the areas of curves to those of
the circle and hyperbola, in those cases which
did not admit of an accurate comparison with
rectilineal spaces, had early occurred to Newton,
and was very fully exemplified in his Quadra¬
ture of Curves. Cotes extended this method:—
his work appeared in 1722, and gave the rules
for finding the fluents of fractional expressions,
whether rational or irrational, greatly general¬
ized and highly improved by means of a pro¬
perty of the circle discovered by himself, anu
justly reckoned among the most remarkable pro¬
positions in geometry. It is singular that a
work so profound and so useful as the Ilarnw-
nia Mensurarum should never have acquired,
even among the mathematicians of England, the
popularity which it deserves ; and that, on the
Continent, it should be very little known, even
after the excellent commentary and additions of
Bishop Walmesley. The reasons perhaps are,
that, in many parts, the work is obscure; that
it does not explain the analysis which must have
led to the formula contained in the tables; and
1 Newton’s Fluxions, Colson’s Translation, p. 116, sect. 107.
532
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
that it employs an unusual language and nota¬
tion, which, though calculated to keep in view
the analogy between circular and hyperbolic
areas, or between the measures of angles and of
ratios, do not so readily accommodate themselves
to the business of calculation as those which are
commonly in use. Demoivre, a very skilful and
able mathematician, improved the method of
Cotes, and explained many things in a manner
much more clear and analytical than had hither¬
to been done.1
Another very original and profound writer of
this period was Brook Taylor, who has already
been often mentioned, and who, in his Method
of Increments, published in 1715, added a new
branch to the analysis of variable quantity.
According to this method, quantities are sup¬
posed to change, not by infinitely small, but by
finite increments, or such as may be of any
magnitude whatever. There are here, there¬
fore, as in the case of fluxions or differentials,
two general questions: A function of a variable
quantity being given, to find the expression for
the finite increment of that function, the incre¬
ment of the variable quantity itself being a finite
magnitude. This corresponds to the direct me¬
thod of fluxions; the other question corresponds
to the inverse, viz. A function being given con¬
taining variable quantities, and their increments
any way combined, to find the function from
which it is derived. The author has considered
both these problems, and in the solution of the
second, particularly, has displayed much ad¬
dress. He has also made many ingenious appli¬
cations of this calculus, both to geometrical and
physical questions, and, above all, to the sum¬
mation of series,—a problem for the solution of
which it is peculiarly adapted.
Taylor, however, was more remarkable for
the ingenuity and depth, than for the perspi¬
cuity of his writings. Even a treatise on Per¬
spective, of which he is the author, though in
other respects excellent, has always been com¬
plained of as obscure; and it is no wonder if,
on a new subject, and one belonging to the
higher geometry, his writings should be still
more exposed to that reproach. This fault was
removed, and the whole theory explained with
great clearness, by M. Nicole, of the Academy of
Sciences of Paris, in a series of Memoires from
the year 1717 to 1727.
A single analytical formula in the Method of
Increments has conferred a celebrity on its au¬
thor, which the most voluminous works have
not often been able to bestow. It is known by
the name of Taylor’s Theorem, and expresses
the value of any function of a variable quantity
in terms of the successive orders of increments,
whether finite or infinitely small. If any one
proposition can be said to comprehend in it a
whole science, it is this: for from it almost
every truth and every method of the new ana¬
lysis may be deduced. It is difficult to say
whether the theorem does most credit to the
genius of the author, or the power of the lan¬
guage which is capable of concentrating such a
vast body of knowledge in a single expression.
Without an acquaintance with algebra, it is im¬
possible, I believe, to conceive the manner in
which this effect is produced.
By means of its own intrinsic merit, and the
advantageous display of it made in the works
now enumerated, the new analysis, long before
the expiration of the period of which I am here
treating, was firmly established all over Europe.
It did not, however, exist everywhere in the
same condition, nor under the same form; with
the British and Continental mathematicians, it
was referred to different origins; it was in dif¬
ferent states of advancement; the notation and
some of the fundamental ideas were also differ¬
ent. The authors communicated little with one
another, except in the way of defiance or re¬
proach ; and, from the angry or polemical tone
which their speculations often assumed, one
could hardly suppose that they were pursuing
science in one of its most abstract and incorpo¬
real forms.
Though the algorithm employed, and the books
consulted on the new analysis, were different,
the mathematicians of Britain and of the Conti¬
nent had kept pace very nearly with one another
during the period now treated of, except in one
branch, the integration of differential or of
1 Demoivre, Miscellanea Analytica. See also the work of an anonymous author, Episiola ad Amicum de Cotesii Invent**.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
533
fluxional equations. In this, our countrymen
had fallen considerably behind, as has been al¬
ready explained; and the distance between them
and their brethren on the Continent continued
to increase, just in proportion to the number
and importance of the questions, physical and
mathematical, which were found to depend on
these integrations. The habit of studying only
our own authors on these subjects, produced at
first by our admiration of Newton and our dis¬
like to his rivals, and increased by a circum¬
stance very insignificant in itself, the diversity
of notation, prevented us from partaking in the
pursuits of our neighbours, and cut us off in a
great measure from the vast field in which the
genius of France, of Germany, and Italy, was
exercised with so much activity and success.
Other causes may have united in the produc¬
tion of an effect which the mathematicians of
this country have had much reason to regret;
but the evil had its origin in the spirit of jea¬
lousy and opposition, which arose from the con¬
troversies that have just passed under our re¬
view. The habits so produced continued long
after the spirit itself had subsided.
It must not be supposed that so great a revo¬
lution in science as that which was made by
the introduction of the new analysis could be
brought about entirely without opposition, as in
every society there are some who think them¬
selves interested to maintain things in the con¬
dition wherein they have found them. The con¬
siderations are indeed sufficiently obvious, which,
in the moral and political world, tend to pro¬
duce this effect, and to give a stability to human
institutions, often so little proportionate to their
real value or to their general utility. Even in
matters purely intellectual, and in which the
abstract truths of arithmetic and geometry seem
alone concerned, the prejudices, the selfishness,
or vanity of those who pursue them, not unfre-
quently combine to resist improvement, and of¬
ten engage no inconsiderable degree of talent in
drawing back, instead of pushing forward, the
machine of science. The introduction of me¬
thods entirely new must often change the rela¬
tive place of the men engaged in scientific pur¬
suits ; and must oblige many, after descending
from the stations they formerly occupied, to take
a lower position in the scale of intellectual ad¬
vancement. The enmity of such men, if they
be not animated by a spirit of real candour and
the love of truth, is likely to be directed against
methods by which their vanity is mortified, and
their importance lessened. Though such changes
as this must have everywhere accompanied the
ascendency acquired by the calculus, for the
credit of mathematicians it must be observed,
that no one of any considerable eminence has
had the misfortune to enrol his name among the
adversaries of the new science; and that Huy¬
gens, the most distinguished and most profound
of the older mathematicians then living, was
one of the most forward to acknowledge the ex¬
cellence of that science, and to make himself
master of its rules, and of their application.
Nevertheless, certain adversaries arose suc¬
cessively in Germany, France, and England, the
countries in which the new methods first be¬
came known.
Nieuwentyt, an author commendable as a na¬
turalist, and as a writer on morals, but a very
superficial geometer, aimed the first blow at the
Differential Calculus. He objected to the ex¬
planation of Leibnitz, and to the notion of quan¬
tities infinitely small.1 It seemed as if he were
unwilling to believe in the reality of objects
smaller than those discovered by his own micro¬
scope, and were jealous of any one who should
come nearer to the limit of extension than he
himself had done. Leibnitz thought his objec¬
tions not undeserving of a reply; but the reply
was not altogether satisfactory. A second was
given with better success; and afterwards Her¬
mann and Bernoulli each severally defeated an
adversary, who was but very ill able to contend
with either of them.
Soon after this, the calculus had to sustain an
attack from two French academicians, which
drew more attention than that of the Dutch
naturalist. One of these, Rolle, was a mathe¬
matician of no inconsiderable acquirement, but
* He published Analysis Infinitorum at Amsterdam, in 1695 ; and another tract, Considerationcs circa Calculi Differcntialit
Principia, in the year following. This last was answered by Hermann.
534
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
whose chief gratification consisted in finding out
faults in the works of others. He founded his
objections to the differential calculus, not on the
score of principles or of general methods, hut on
certain cases which he had sought out with great
industry, in which those methods seemed to him
to lead to false and contradictory conclusions.
On examination, however, it turned out, that in
every one of those instances the error was en¬
tirely his own; that he had misapplied the rules ;
and that his eagerness to discover faults had led
him to commit them. His errors were detected
and pointed out with demonstrative evidence by
Varignon, Saurin, and some others, who were
among the first to perceive the excellence and
to defend the solidity of the new geometry.
These disputes were of consequence enough to
occupy the attention of the Academy of Sciences
during a great part of the year 1701.
The Abbe Gallois joined with Rolle in his
hostility to the calculus; and though he added
very little to the force of the attack, he kept the
field after the other had retired from the combat.
Fontenelle, in his Eloge on the Abbe, has given
an elegant turn to the apology he makes for
him. <{ His taste for antiquity made him sus¬
picious of the geometry of infinites. He was,
in general, no friend to any thing that was
new, and was always prepared with a kind
of ostracism to put down whatever appeared too
conspicuous for a free state like that of letters.
The geometry of infinites had both these faults,
and particularly the latter.”
After all these disputes were quieted in France,
and the new analysis appeared completely vic¬
torious, it had an attack to sustain in England
from a more formidable quarter. Berkeley, bi¬
shop of Cloyne, wras a man of first-rate talents,
distinguished as a metaphysician, a philosopher,
and a divine. His geometrical knowledge, how¬
ever, which, for an attack on the method of
fluxions, was more essential than all his other
accomplishments, seems to have been little more
than elementary. The motive which induced
him to enter on discussions so remotely connect¬
ed with his usual pursuits, has been variously
represented; hut, whatever it was, it gave rise
to the Analyst, in which the author professes to
demonstrate, that the new analysis is inaccurate
in its principles, and that if it ever lead to true
conclusions, it is from an accidental compensa¬
tion of errors that cannot be supposed always to
take place. The argument is ingeniously and
plausibly conducted, and the author sometimes
attempts ridicule with better success than could
be expected from the subject: thus, when he
calls ultimate ratios the ghosts of departed quan¬
tities, it is not easy to conceive a witty saying
more happily fastened on a mere mathematical
abstraction.
The Analyst was answered by Jurin, under
the signature of Philalethes ; and to this Berke¬
ley replied in a tract entitled A Defence of Free-
thinking in Mathematics. Replies were again
made to this; so that the argument assumed the
form of a regular controversy; in which, though
the defenders of the calculus had the advantage,
it must be acknowledged that they did not al¬
ways argue the matter quite fairly, nor exactly
meet the reasoning of their adversary. The true
answer to Berkeley was, that what he conceived
to be an accidental compensation of errors was
not at all accidental, but that the two sets of
quantities that seemed to him neglected in the
reasoning were in all cases necessarily equal,
and an exact balance for one another. The New¬
tonian idea of a fluxion contained in it this truth,
and so it was argued by Jurin and others, but
not in a manner so logical and satisfactory as
might have been expected. Perhaps it is not
too much to assert, that this was not complete¬
ly done till Lagrange’s Theory of Functions ap¬
peared. Thus, if the author of the Analyst has
had the misfortune to enrol his name on the
side of error, he has also had the credit of pro¬
posing difficulties of which the complete solu¬
tion is only to be derived from the highest im¬
provements of the calculus.
This controversy made some noise in Eng¬
land, but I do not think that it ever drew much
attention on the Continent. The Analyst, I ima¬
gine, notwithstanding its acuteness, never crossed
the Channel. Montucla evidently knows it only
by report, and seems as little acquainted with
the work as with its author, of whom he speaks
very slightly, and supposes he has sufficiently
described him by saying, that he has written
a book against the existence of matter, and
DISSERTATION THIRD.
535
another in praise of tar-water. But it is less
from the opinions which men support than
from the manner in which they support them,
that their talents are to be estimated. If we
judge by this criterion, we shall pronounce
Berkeley to be a man of genius, whether he be
employed in attacking the infinitesimal ana¬
lysis, in disproving the existence of the ex¬
ternal world, or in celebrating the virtues of
tar-water.1
SECTION II.
MECHANICS, GENERAL PHYSICS, &c.
The discoveries of Galileo, Descartes, and
other mathematicians of the seventeenth cen¬
tury, had made known some of the most ge¬
neral and important laws which regulate the
phenomena of moving bodies. The inertia, or
the tendency of body, when left to itself, to pre¬
serve unchanged its condition either of motion
or of rest; the effect of an impulse communi¬
cated to a body, or of two simultaneous im¬
pulses, had been carefully examined, and had
led to the discovery of the composition of mo¬
tion. The law of equilibrium, not in the lever
alone, but in all the mechanical powers, had
been determined; and the equality of action to
re-action, or of the motion lost to the motion
acquired, had not only been established by rea¬
soning, but confirmed by experiment. The
fuller elucidation and further extension of these
principles were reserved for the period now
treated of.
The development of truth is often so gra¬
dual, that it is impossible to assign the time
when certain principles have been first intro¬
duced into science. Thus, the principle of vir¬
tual velocities, as it is termed, which is now re¬
cognised as regulating the equilibrium of all
machines whatsoever, was perceived to hold in
particular cases, long before its full extent or its
perfect universality was understood. Galileo
made a great step toward the establishment of
this principle when he generalized the property
of the lever, and showed, that an equilibrium
takes place whenever the sums of the opposite
momenta are equal, meaning by momentum the
product of the force into the velocity of the
point at which it is applied. This was carried
farther by Wallis, who appears to have been
the first writer who, in his Mechanica, published
in 1669, founded an entire system of statics on
the principle of Galileo, or the equality of the
opposite momenta. The proposition, however,
was first enunciated in its full generality, and
with perfect precision,2 by John Bernoulli, in
a letter to Yarignon, so late as the year 1717.
Varignon inserted this letter at the end of the
second edition of his Projet d'une Nouvelle Me-
1 Though Berkeley reasons very plausibly, and with considerable address, he hurts his cause by the comparison so often
introduced between the mysteries of religion and what he accounts the mysteries of the new geometry. From this it is
natural to infer, that the author is avenging the cause of religion on the infidel mathematician to whom his treatise is ad¬
dressed ; and an argument that is suspected to have any other object than that at which it is directly aimed, must always
lose somewhat of its weight.
The dispute here mentioned did not take place till about the year 1734; so that I have here treated of it by anticipa¬
tion, being unwilling to resume the subject of controversies which, though perhaps useful at first for the purpose of se¬
curing the foundations of science, are long since set to rest, and never likely to be revived.
2 The principle of virtual velocities may be thus enunciated: If a system of bodies be in a state of equilibrium, in con¬
sequence of the action of any forces whatever on certain points in the system ; then, supposing the equilibrium to be for a mo¬
ment destroyed, the small space moved over by each of these points will express the virtual velocity of the power ap¬
plied to it; and if each force be multiplied into its virtual velocity, the sum of all the products where the velocities are in
the same direction, will be equal to the sum of all those in which they are in the opposite.
The distinction between actual and virtual velocities was first made by Bernoulli, and is very essential to thinking as
well as to speaking with accuracy on the nature of equilibriums.
536
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
canique, which was not published till 1725. The
first edition of the same book appeared in 1687,
and had the merit of deriving1 the whole theory
of the equilibrium of the mechanical powers
from the single principle of the composition ot
forces. At first sight, there appear in mechanics
two independent principles of equilibrium; that
of the lever, or of equal and opposite momenta,
and that of the composition of forces. To show
that these coincide, and that the one may be
deduced from the other, is, therefore, doing a
service to science; and this the ingenious author
just named accomplished by help of a property
of the parallelogram, which he seems to have
been the first who demonstrated.
The Principia Mathematica of Newton, pub¬
lished also in 1687, marks a great era in the
history of human knowledge, and had the merit
of effecting an almost entire revolution in me¬
chanics, by giving new powers and a new di¬
rection to its researches. In that work the com¬
position of forces was treated independently of
the composition of motion, and the equilibrium
of the lever was deduced from the former, as
well as in the treatise already mentioned. From
the equality of action and re-action it was also
inferred, that the state of the centre of gravity
of any system of bodies is not changed by the
action of those bodies on one another. This is
a great proposition in the mechanics of the
universe, and is one of the steps by which
that science ascends from the earth to the
heavens; for it proves that the quantity of mo¬
tion existing in nature, when estimated in any
one given direction, continues always of the
same amount.
But the new applications of mechanical rea¬
soning,—the reduction of questions concerning
force and motion to questions of pure geometry,
and the mensuration of mechanical action by
its nascent effects,—are what constitute the great
glory of the Principia, considered as a treatise
on the theory of motion. A transition was there
made from the consideration of forces acting at
stated intervals, to that of forces acting conti¬
nually,—and from forces constant in quantity
and direction to those that converge to a point,
and vary as any function of the distance from
that point; the proportionality of the areas de¬
scribed about the centre of force, to the times of
their description; the equality of the velocities
generated in descending through the same dis¬
tance by whatever route; the relation between
the squares of the velocities produced or extin¬
guished; and the sum of the accelerating or re¬
tarding forces, computed with a reference, not
to the time during which, but to the distance
over which they have acted. These are a few
of the mechanical and dynamical discoveries con¬
tained in the same immortal work; a fuller ac¬
count of which belongs to the history of physi¬
cal astronomy.
The end of the seventeenth and the beginning
of the eighteenth centuries were rendered illus¬
trious, as we have already seen, by the mathe¬
matical discoveries of two of the greatest men
Avho have ever enlightened the world. A slight
sketch of the improvements which the theory of
mechanics owes to Newton has been just given;
those which it owes to Leibnitz, though not
equally important, nor equally numerous, are
far too conspicuous to be passed over in silence.
So far as concerns general principles, they are
reduced to three; the argument of the suffi¬
cient reason, the law of continuity, and the
measurement of the force of moving bodies by
the square of their velocities; which last being
a proposition that is true or false according to
the light in which it is viewed, I have supposed
it placed in that which is most favourable.
With regard to the first of these, the prin¬
ciple of the sufficient reason, according to which,
nothing exists in any state without a reason de¬
termining it to be in that state rather than in
any other,—though it be true that this proposi¬
tion was first distinctly and generally announced
by the philosopher just named, yet is it certain
that, long before his time, it had been employed
by others in laying the foundations of science.
Archimedes and Galileo had both made use of
it; and perhaps there never was any attempt to
place the elementary truths of science on a solid
foundation, in which this principle had not been
employed. We have an example of its applica¬
tion in the proof usually given, that a body in
motion cannot change the direction of its mo¬
tion, abstraction being made from all other bo¬
dies, and from all external action ; for it is evi-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
537
dent, that no reason exists to determine the known this law; but it is fair to remark, that,
change of motion to he in one direction more in as much as motion is concerned, it was dis-
than another, and we therefore conclude that no tinctly laid down by Galileo,2 and ascribed by
such change can possibly take place. Many him to Plato. But, though Leibnitz was not
other instances might be produced where the the first to discover the law of continuity, he
same piinciple appears as an axiom of the clear- was the first who regarded it as a principle in
est and most undeniable evidence. Wherever, philosophy, and used it for trying the consistency
indeed, we can pronounce with certainty that of theories, or of supposed laws of nature, and
the conditions which determine two different the agreement of their parts with one another,
things, whether magnitudes or events, are in It was in this way that he detected the error of
two cases piecisely the same, it cannot be Descartes’s conclusions concerning the collision
doubted tnat t nese events or magnitudes are in of bodies, showing, that though one case of col-
all iespects identical. lision must necessarily graduate into another,
However sound this principle may be in it- the conclusions of that philosopher did by no
self, the use which Leibnitz sometimes made of means pass from one to another by such gradual
it has tended to bring it into discredit. He ar- transition. Indeed, for the purpose of such de-
gued, for example, that of the particles of mat- tections, the knowledge of this law is extremely
ter no two can possess exactly the same proper- useful; and I believe few have been much oc-
ties, or can perfectly resemble one another, cupied in the investigations either of the pure or
otherwise the Supreme Being could have no mixed mathematics, who have not often been
reason for employing one of them in a particu- glad to try their own conclusions by the test
lar position more than another, so that both which it furnishes.
must necessarily be rejected. To argue thus, is Leibnitz considered this principle as known a
to suppose that we completely understand the priori; because if any saltus were to take place,
manner in which motives act on the mind of that is, if any change were to happen without
the Divinity j1 a postulate that seems but ill the intervention of time, the thing changed
suited to the limited sphere of the human under- must be in two different conditions at the same
standing. But, if Leibnitz has misapplied his individual instant, which is obviously impossible,
own principle, and extended its authority too Whether this reasoning be quite satisfactory or
far, this affords no ground for rejecting it when not, the conformity of the law to the facts gene-
we are studying the ordinary course of nature, x*ally observed, cannot but entitle it to great au-
and arguing about the subjects of experiment thority in judging of the explanations and theo-
and observation. In fact, therefore, the sciences ries of natural phenomena.
which aspire to place their foundation on the so- It was the usual error, however, of Leibnitz
lid basis of necessary truth, are much indebted and his followers, to push the metaphysical prin-
to Leibnitz for the introduction of this principle ciples of science into extreme cases, where they
into philosophy. lead to conclusions to which it was hardly pos-
Another principle of great use in investigat- sible to assent. The Academy of Sciences at
ing the laws of motion, and of change in gene- Paris having proposed as a prize question the
ral, was brought into view by the same author, Investigation of the Laws of the Communication
—the law of continuity ^—according to which, no- of Motion,3 John Bernoulli presented an Essay
thing passes from one state to another without on the subject, very ingenious and profound; in
passing through all the intermediate states, which, however, he denied the existence of hard
Leibnitz considers himself as the first who made bodies, because, in the collision of such bodies,
1 The argument of Leibnitz seems evidently inconclusive. For, though there were two similar and equal atoms, yet as
they could not co-exist in the same space, they would not, so far as position is concerned, bear the same relation to the par¬
ticles that surrounded them : there might exist, therefore, considering them as part of the materials to be employed in the
construction of the universe, very good reasons for assigning different situations to each.
* Opere di Galileo, tom. III. p. 150, and tom. II. p. 32. edit. Padova, 1744.
* In 1724.
DISS. III. TART II. 3 V
538
preliminary dissertations.
a finite change of motion must take place in an
instant; an event which, on the principle just ex¬
plained, he maintained to he impossible. Though
the Essay was admired, this conclusion was ob¬
jected to; and D’Alembert, in his Eloge^ on the
author, remarks, that, even in the collision of
elastic bodies, it is difficult to conceive how,
among the parts which first come into contact,
a sudden change, or a change pci saltu'in^ can be
avoided. Indeed it can only be avoided by sup¬
posing that there is no real contact, and that
bodies begin to act upon one another when their
surfaces, or what seems to be their surfaces, are
yet at a distance.
Maclaurin and some others are disposed, on
account of the argument of Bernoulli, to reject
the law of continuity altogether. This, however,
I cannot help thinking, is to deprive ourselves
of an auxiliary that, under certain restrictions,
may be very useful in our researches, and is
often so, even to those who profess to reject its
assistance. It is admitted that the law of con¬
tinuity generally leads right; and if it sometimes
lead wrong, the true business of philosophy is to
define when it may be trusted to as a safe guide,
and what, on the other hand, are the circum¬
stances which render its indications uncertain.
The discourse of Bernoulli, just referred to,
brought another new conclusion into the field,
and began a controversy among the mathemati¬
cians of Europe, which lasted for many years.
It was a new thing to see geometers contending
about the truths of their own science, and op¬
posing one demonstration to another. The
spectacle must have given pain to the true phi¬
losopher, but may have afforded consolation to
many who had looked with envy on the certain¬
ty and quiet prevailing in a region from which
they found themselves excluded.
Descartes had estimated the force of a moving
body by the quantity of its motion, or by the
product of its velocity into its mass. The ma¬
thematicians and philosophers who followed him
did the same, and the product of these quantities
was the measure of force universally adopted.
No one indeed had ever thought of questioning
the conformity of this measure to the phenomena
of nature, when, in 1686, Leibnitz announced in
the Leipsic Journal the demonstration of a great
error committed by Descartes and others^ in esti¬
mating the force of moving bodies. In tnis paper
the author endeavoured to show, that the foice
of a moving body is not proportional to its velo¬
city simply, but to the square of its velocity; and
he supported this new doctrine by very plausible
reasoning. A body, he says, projected upward
against gravity, with a double velocity, ascends
to four times the height; with the triple veloci¬
ty, to nine times the height; and so on, the
height ascended to being always as the square of
the velocity. But the height ascended to is the
effect, and is the natural measure of the force;
therefore the force of a moving body is as the
square of its velocity. Such was the first rea¬
soning of Leibnitz on this subject, simple, and
apparently conclusive ; nor should it be foi gotten
that, during the long period to which the dis¬
pute was lengthened out, and notwithstanding
the various shapes which it assumed, the reason¬
ings on his side were nothing more than this ori¬
ginal argument, changed in its form, or render¬
ed more complex by the combination of new
circumstances, so as to be more bewildering to
the imagination, and more difficult either to ap¬
prehend or to refute.1
John Bernoulli was at first of a different
opinion from his friend and master, but came at
length to adopt the same; which, however, ap¬
pears to have gone no farther till the discoui se
was submitted to the Academy of Sciences, as
has been already mentioned. The mathematical
world could not look with indifference on a
question which seemed to affect the vitals of
mechanical science, and soon separated into two
parties, in the arrangement of which, however,
the effects of national predilection might easily
be discovered. Germany, Holland, and Italy,
declared for the vis viva; England stood firm
for the old doctrine; and France was divided
between the two opinions. No controversy,
1 To mere pressure Leibnitz gave the name of vis mortua, and to the force of moving bodies the name o i is vna.
former he admitted to be proportional to the simple power of the virtual velocity, and the second he held to e proper i
alto the square of the actml velocity.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
539
perhaps, was ever carried on by more illustrious
disputants: Maclaurin, Stirling, Desaguliers,
Jurin, Clarke, Mairan, were engaged on the
one side; on the opposite were Bernoulli, Her¬
mann, Poleni, S’Gravesande, Muschenbroeck;
and it was not till long after the period to which
this part of the Dissertation is confined, that the
debate could be said to he brought to a conclu¬
sion. That I may not, however, be obliged to
break off a subject of which the parts are close¬
ly connected together, I shall take the liberty of
transgressing the limits which the consideration
of time would prescribe, and of now stating, as
far as my plan admits of it, all that respects this
celebrated controversy.
A singular circumstance may be remarked in
the whole of the dispute. The two parties who
adopted such different measures of force, when
any mechanical problem was proposed concern¬
ing the action of bodies, whether at rest or in
motion, resolved it in the same manner, and
arrived exactly at the same conclusions. It was
therefore evident, that, however much their
language and words were opposed, their ideas
or opinions exactly agreed. In reality, the two
parties were not at issue on the question; their
positions, though seemingly opposite, were not
contrary to one another; and after debating for
nearly thirty years, they found out this to be the
truth. That the first men in the scientific world
should have disputed so long with one another,
without discovering that their opposition was
only in words,—and that this should havehappen-
ed, not in any of the obscure and tortuous tracks
through which the human mind must grope its
way in anxiety and doubt, but in one of the
clearest and straightest roads, where it used to
be guided by the light of demonstration,—is one
of the most singular facts in the history of hu¬
man knowledge.
The degree of acrimony and illiberality which
were sometimes mixed in this controversy was
not very creditable to the disputants, and proved
how much more men take an interest in opinions
as being their own, than as being simply in
themselves either true or false. The dispute, as
conducted by S’Gravesande and Clarke, took
this turn, especially on the part of the latter,
who, in the schools of theology having sharp¬
ened both his temper and his wit, accompanied
his reasonings with an insolence and irritability
peculiarly ill suited to a discussion about matter
and motion. His paper on this subject, in the
Philosophical Transactions^ contains many just
and acute remarks, accompanied with the most
unfair representation of the argument of his an¬
tagonists, as if the doctrine of the vis viva were
a matter of as palpable absurdity as the denial
of one of the axioms of geometry.1 2 3 Now, the
truth is, that the argument in favour of living
forces is not at all liable to this reproach. One
of the effects produced by a moving body is pro¬
portional to the square of the velocity, while
another is proportional to the velocity simply ;
and, according to which of these ways the force
itself is to be measured, may involve the pro¬
priety or impropriety of mathematical language,
but cannot be charged with absurdity or contra¬
diction. Absurdity, indeed, was a reproach that
neither side had any right to cast on the other.
A Dissertation of Mairan, on the Force of
moving Bodies, in the Memoirs of the Academy of
Sciences for 1728, is one of those in which the
common measure of force is most ably support¬
ed. Nevertheless, for a long time after this,
the opinions on that subject in France continued
still to be divided. In the list of the disputants
we should hardly expect to find a lady included,
if we did not know that the name of Madame
du Chastelet, along with those of Hypatia and
Agnesi, was honourably enrolled in the annals
of mathematical learning. Her writings on this
1 Vol. XXXV. (1728) p. 381 : Hutton’s Abridgement, vol. VII. p. 219.
2 In all the arguments for the vis viva, this learned metaphysician saw nothing but a conspiracy formed against the New¬
tonian philosophy. “An extraordinary instance,” says he, “of the maintenance of the most palpable absurdity we have
had of late years in very eminent mathematicians, .Leibnitz, Bernoulli, Hermann, S’Gravesande, who, in order to raise a dust
of opposition against the Newtonian philosophy, some years back insisted with great eagerness on a principle which sub¬
verts all science, and which may easily be made appear, even to an ordinary capacity, to be contrary to the necessary and
essential nature of things.” This passage may serve as a proof of the spirit which prevailed among the philosophers of that
time, making them ascribe such illiberal views to one another, and distorting so entirely both their own reasoning and
those of their adversaries. The spirit awakened by the discovery of fluxions had not yet subsided.
540
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
subject are full of ingenuity, though, from the
fluctuation of her opinions,1 it seems as it she
had not yet entirely exchanged the caprice of
fashion for the austerity of science. About the
same time Voltaire engaged in the argument,
and in a Memoir,2 * * presented to the Academy
of Sciences in 1741, contended that the dispute
was entirely about words. His reasoning is, on
the whole, sound; and the suffrage of one who
united the character of a wit, a poet, and a phi¬
losopher, must he of great importance in a coun¬
try where the despotism of fashion extends even
to philosophical opinion.
The controversy was now drawing to a con¬
clusion,5 and in effect may he said to have been
terminated by the publication of D’Alembert’s
Dynamique in 1743. I am not certain, how¬
ever, that all the disputants acquiesced in this
decision, at least till some years later. Dr Reid,
in an Essay on Quantity, in the Philosophical
Transactions for 1748, has treated of this con¬
troversy, and remarked, that it had been dropt
rather than concluded. In this I confess I differ
from the learned author. The controversy seem¬
ed fairly ended, the arguments exhausted, and
the conclusion established, that the propositions
maintained by both sides were true, and were
not opposed to one another. Though the ma¬
thematical sciences cannot boast of never hav¬
ing had any debates, they can say that those
that have arisen have always been brought to a
satisfactory termination.
The observations with which I am to con¬
clude the present sketch, are not precisely the
same with those of the French philosopher,
though they rest nearly on the same founda¬
tion.
As the effects of moving bodies, or the changes
they produce, may vary considerably with acci¬
dental circumstances, we must, in order to mea¬
sure their force, have recourse to effects which
are uniform, and not under the influence of va¬
riable causes. First, we may measure the force
of one moving body by its effect upon another
moving body; and here there is no room for
dispute, nor any doubt that the forces of such
bodies are as the quantities of matter multiplied
into the simple power of the velocities, because
the forces of bodies in which these products are
equal, are well known, if opposed, to destroy
one another. Thus one effect of moving bodies
affords a measure of their force, which does not
vary as the square^ but as the simple power of
the velocity.
There is also another condition of moving bo¬
dies which may be expected to afford a simple
and general measure of their force. When a
moving body is opposed by pressure, by a vis
mortua, or a resistance like that of gravity, the
quantity of such resistance required to extinguish
the motion, and reduce the body to rest, must
serve to measure the force of that body. It is
a force which, by repeated impulses, has anni¬
hilated another; and these impulses, when pro¬
perly collected into one sum, must evidently be
equal to the force which they have extinguished.
It happens, however, that there are two ways of
computing the amount of these retarding forces,
which lead to different results, both of them
just, and neither of them to be assumed to the
exclusion of the other.
Suppose the body, the force of which is to be
measured, to be projected perpendicularly up¬
ward with any velocity; then, if we would com¬
pute the quantity of the force of gravity which
is employed in reducing it to rest, we may either
inquire into the retardation which that force
produces during a given time, or while the body
is moving over a given space. In other words,
we may either inquire how long the motion will
1 Madame du Chastelet, in a Dissertation on Fire, published in 1740, toot the side of Mairan, and bestowed great praise
on his discourse on the Force of moving Bodies. Having, however, afterwards become a convert to the philosophy of Leib-
nitz, she espoused the cause of the vis viva, and wrote against Mairan. At this time too she drew up a compend or t ic
Leibnitian philosophy for the use of her son, which displays ingenuity and acuteness, and is certainly such a.present as
very few mothers have ever been in a condition to make to their children. Soon afterwards the same lady, having become
a Newtonian, returned to her former opinion about the force of moving bodies, and in the end, gave to her countrymen an
excellent translation of the Principia of Newton, with a commentary on a part of it, far superior to any other that has } e
appeared.
2 Doutcs sur la M(sure des Forces Matrices: CEuvres de Voltaire, tom. XXXIX. p. 91. 8vo edit. 1T85.
8 Two very valuable papers that appeared at this late period of the dispute are found in the Philosophical Transactions ;
one by Desaguliers, in 1733, full of excellent remarks and valuable experiments ; another by Jurin, in 1745, containing a
very full state of the whole controversy.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
541
continue, or how far it will carry the body be¬
fore it be entirely exhausted. If the length of
the time that the uniform resistance must act
before it reduce the body to rest be taken for
the effect, and consequently for the measure of
the force of the body, that force must be pro¬
portional to the velocity, for to this the time is
confessedly proportional. If, on the other hand,
the length of the line which the moving body
describes, while subjected to this uniform re¬
sistance, be taken for the effect and the measure
of the force, the force must be as the square of
the velocity, because to that quantity the line in
question is known to be proportional. Here,
therefore, are two results, or two values of the
same thing, the force of a moving body, which
are quite different from one another; an incon¬
sistency which evidently arises from this, that
the thing denoted by the term force is too vague
and indefinite to be capable of measurement,
unless some further condition be annexed. This
condition is no other than a specification of the
work to be performed, or of the effect to be pro¬
duced by the action of the moving body. Thus,
when to the question concerning the force of
the moving body you add that it is to be em¬
ployed in putting in motion another body which
is itself free to move, no doubt remains that the
force is as the velocity multiplied into the quan¬
tity of matter. So also, if the force of the mov¬
ing body is to be opposed by a resistance like
that of gravity, the length of time that the mo¬
tion may continue is one of its measurable ef¬
fects, and that effect is, like the former, propor¬
tional to the velocity. There is a third effect to be
considered, and one which always occurs in such
an experiment as the last,—the height to which
the moving body will ascend. This limitation
gives to the force a definite character, and it is
now measured by the square of the velocity.
In fact, therefore, it is not a precise question to
ask, What is the measure of the force of a
moving body ? You must, in addition, say, How
is the moving body to be employed, or in which
of its different capacities is it that you would
measure its effect ? In this state of the question
there is no ambiguity, nor any answer to be
given but one. Hence it was that the mathe¬
maticians and philosophers who differed so much
about the general question of the force of moving
bodies, never differed about the particular ap¬
plications of that force. It was because the
condition necessary for limiting the vagueness
and ambiguity of the data, in all such cases,
was fully supplied.
In the argument, therefore, so strenuously
maintained on the force of moving bodies, both
sides were partly in the right and both partly in
the wrong. Each produced a measure of force
which was just in certain circumstances, and
thus far had truth on his side: but each argued
that his was the only true measure, so that all
others ought to be rejected; and here each of
them was in error. Hence, also, it is not an
accurate account of the controversy to say that
it was about words merely: the disputants did
indeed misunderstand one another; but their
error lay in ascribing generality to propositions
that were true only in particular cases, to which
indeed the ambiguity and vagueness of the word
force materially contributed. It does not ap¬
pear, however, that any good would now accrue
from changing the language of dynamics. If,
as has been already said, to the question, How
are we to measure the force of a moving body ?
be added the nature of the effect which is to be
produced, all ambiguity will be avoided.
It is, I think, only further necessary to ob¬
serve, that when the resistance opposed to the
moving body is not uniform but variable, ac¬
cording to any law, it is not simply either the
time or the space which is proportional to the
velocity or to the square of the velocity, but
functions of those quantities. These functions
are obtained from the integration of certain
fluxionary expressions, in which the measures
above described are applied, the resistance being
regarded as uniform for an infinitely small por¬
tion of the time or of the space.
Many years after the period I am now treat¬
ing of, the controversy about the vis viva seemed
to revive in England, on the occasion of an Es¬
say on Mechanical Force, by the late Mr Smea-
ton, an able engineer, who, to great practical
skill, and much experience, added no inconsid¬
erable knowledge of the Mathematics.
The reality of the vis viva, then, under cer¬
tain conditions, is to be considered as a matter
542
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
completely established. Another inquiry con¬
cerning the nature of this force, which also gave
rise to considerable debate, was, whether, in the
communication of motion, and in the various
changes through which moving bodies pass, the
quantity of the vis viva remains always the
same. It had been observed, in the collision
of elastic bodies, that the vis viva, or the sum
made up by multiplying each body into the
square of its velocity, and adding the products
too-ether, was the same after collision that it was
before it; and it was concluded with some pre¬
cipitation, by those who espoused the Leibnitian
theory, that a similar result always took place
in the real phenomena of nature. Other in¬
stances were cited; and it was observed, that a
particular view of this principle which present¬
ed itself to Huygens, had enabled him to find
the centre of oscillation of a compound pendu¬
lum, at a time when the state of mechanical
science was scarcely prepared for so difficult an
investigation. The proposition, however, is true
only when all the changes are gradual, and ri¬
gorously subjected to the law of continuity.
Thus, in the collision of bodies imperfectly
elastic, (a case which continually occurs in na¬
ture) the force which, during the recoil, acce¬
lerates the separation of the bodies, does not
restore to them the whole velocity they had lost;
and the vis viva, after the collision, is always
less than it was before it. The cases in which
the whole amount of the vis viva is rigorously
preserved, may always be brought under the
thirty-ninth proposition of the first book of the
Principia, where the principle of this theory is
placed on its true foundation.
So far as general principles are concerned,
the preceding are the chief mechanical improve¬
ments which belong to the period so honourably
distinguished by the names of Newton and Leib¬
nitz. The application of these principles to the
solution of particular problems would afford
materials for more ample discussion than suits
the nature of an historical outline. Such pro¬
blems as that of finding the centre of oscilla¬
tion,—the nature of the catenarian curve,—the
determination of the line of swiftest descent,—
the retardation produced to motion in a medium
that resists according to the square of the velo¬
city, or indeed according to any function of
it,—the determination of the elastic curve, or
that into which an elastic spring forms itself
when a force is applied to bend it;—all these
were problems of the greatest interest, and Avere
now resolved for the first time; the science of
mechanics being sufficient, by means of the com¬
position of forces, to find out the fluxionary or
differential equations which expressed the nature
of the gradual changes which in all these cases
were produced, and the calculus being now suffi¬
ciently powerful to infer the properties of the
finite from those of the infinitesimal quantities.
The doctrine of Hydrostatics was cultivated
in England by Cotes. The properties of the
atmosphere, or of elastic fluids, were also ex¬
perimentally in\restigated; and the barometer,
after the ingenuity of Pascal had proved that the
mercury stood lo\\Ter the higher up into the atmo¬
sphere the instrument %vas carried, Avas at length
brought to be a measure of the height of moun¬
tains. Mariotte appears to have been the first
avIio proposed this use of it, and who discovered
that, Avhile the height from the ground increases
in arithmetical, the density of the atmosphere
and the column of mercury in the barometer
decrease in geometrical progression. Halley,
who seems also to have come of himself to the
same conclusion, proved its truth by strict geo¬
metrical reasoning, and showed that logarithms
are easily applicable on this principle to the pro¬
blem of finding the height of mountains. This
Avas in the year 1685. NeAvton two years after-
Avards gavu a demonstration of the same, extend¬
ed to the case Avhen gravity is not constant, but
A7aries as any power of the distance from a given
centre.
To the assiduous observations and the inde¬
fatigable activity of Halley, the natural history
of the atmosphere, of the ocean, and of magne¬
tism, are all under the greatest obligations. For
the purpose of inquiring into these objects, this
ardent and philosophical observer relinquished
the quiet of academical retirement, and, having
gone to St Helena, by a residence of a year in
that island, not only made an addition to the
catalogue of the stars, of 360 from the southern
hemisphere, but returned with great acquisitions
both of nautical and meteorological knowledge.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
543
His observations on evaporation were the foun¬
dation of two valuable papers on the origin of
fountains; in which, for the first time, the suffi¬
ciency of the vapour taken up into the atmo¬
sphere, to maintain the perennial flow of springs
and rivers, was established by undeniable evi¬
dence. The difficulty which men found in con¬
ceiving how a precarious and accidental supply
like that of the rains can sufficiently provide
for a great and regular expenditure like that of
the rivers, had given rise to those various opin¬
ions concerning the origin of fountains, which
had hitherto divided the scientific world. A
long residence on the summit of an insulated
rock, in the midst of a vast ocean, visited twice
every year by the vertical sun, would have af¬
forded to an observer less quick-sighted than
Halley, an opportunity of seeing the work of
evaporation carried on with such rapidity and
copiousness as to be a subject of exact measure¬
ment. From this extreme case, he could infer
the medium quantity, at least by approximation ;
and he proved that, in the Mediterranean, the
humidity daily raised up by evaporation is three
times as great as that which is discharged by all
the rivers that flow into it. The origin of foun¬
tains was no longer questioned; and of the mul¬
titude of opinions on that subject, which had
hitherto perplexed philosophers, all but one en¬
tirely disappeared.1
Beside the voyage to St Helena, Halley made
two others ; the British government having been
enlightened and liberal enough to despise pro¬
fessional etiquette, where the interests of science
were at stake, and to intrust to a Doctor of
Laws the command of a ship of war, in which he
traversed the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans in
various directions, as far as the 53d degree of
south latitude, and returned with a collection
of facts and observations for the improvement
of geography, meteorology, and navigation, far
beyond that which any individual traveller or
voyager had hitherto brought together.
The variation of the compass was long before
this time known to exist, but its laws had never yet
been ascertained. These Halley now determined
from his own observations, combined with those
of former navigators, in so far as to trace, on a
nautical chart, the lines of the same variation
over a great part both of the Atlantic and Pa¬
cific Oceans, affording to the navigator the ready
means of correcting the errors which the devia¬
tion of the needle from the true meridian was
calculated to produce. In his different traverses
he had four times intersected the line of no vari¬
ation, which seemed to divide the earth into two
parts, the variations on the east side being to¬
wards the west, and on the west side towards
the east. These lines being found to change
their position in the course of time, the place
assigned to the magnetical poles could not be
permanent. Any theory, therefore, which could
afford an explanation of their changes, must ne¬
cessarily be complex and difficult to be esta¬
blished. The attempt of Halley to give such an
explanation, though extremely ingenious, was
liable to great objections; and while it has
shared the fate of most of the theories which
have been laid down before the phenomena had
been sufficiently explored, the general facts
which he established have led to most of the
improvements and discoveries which have since
been made respecting the polarity of the needle.
Besides the conclusion just mentioned, Dr
Halley derived from his observations a very
complete history of the winds which blow in
the tropical regions, viz. the trade-wind and
the monsoons, together with many interesting
tacts concerning the phenomena of the tides.
The chart which contained an epitome of all
these facts was published in 1701.
The above are only a part of the obligations
which the sciences are under to the observations
and reasonings of this ingenious and indefati¬
gable inquirer. Halley was indeed one of the
ablest and most accomplished men of his age.
A scholar well versed in the learned languages,
and a geometer profoundly skilled in the ancient
analysis, he restored to their original elegance
some of the precious fragments of that analysis,
which time happily had not entirely defaced.
He was well acquainted also with the algebrai¬
cal and fluxionary calculus, and was both in
theory and practice a profound and laborious
1 Philosophical Transactions, 1687, vol. XYI. p. 366.
544
preliminary dissertations.
astronomer. Finally, he was the friend of New¬
ton, and often stimulated, with good effect, the
tardy purposes of that great philosopher. Few
men* therefore, of any period, have more claims
than Halley on the gratitude of succeeding ages.
The invention of the thermometer has been
already noticed; and the improvements made on
that instrument about this period laid the foun¬
dation of many future discoveries. The dis¬
covery of two fixed temperatures, each marked
by the same expansion of the mercury in the
thermometer, and the same condition of the
fluid in which it is immersed, was made about
this time. The differences of temperature were
thus subjected to exact measurement; the phe¬
nomena of heat became, of course, known with
more certainty and precision; and that sub¬
stance or virtue, to which nothing is impe¬
netrable, and which finds its way through the
rarest and the densest bodies apparently with
the same facility,—which determines so many
of our sensations, and of which the distribution
so materially influences all the phenomena of
animal and vegetable life,—came now to be
known, not indeed in its essence, but as to all
the characters in which wc are practically or
experimentally concerned. The treatise on Fire,
in Boerhaave’s Chemistry, is a great advance be¬
yond any thing on that subject hitherto known,
and touches, notwithstanding many errors and
imperfections, on most of the great truths which
time, experience, and ingenuity, have since
brought into view.
It was in this period also that electricity may
be said first to have taken a scientific form. The
power of amber to attract small bodies after it
has been rubbed, is said to have been known to
Thales, and is certainly made mention of by
Theophrastus. The observations of Gilbert, a
physician of Colchester, in the end of the six¬
teenth century, though at the distance of two
thousand years, made the first addition to the
transient and superficial remarks of the Greek
naturalist, and afford a pretty full enumeration
of the bodies which can be rendered electrical
by friction. The Academia del Cimento, Boyle,
1 Wall’s paper is in the Transactions for 1708, vol. XXVI.
volume. See Abridgement, vol. V. p. 408, 411.
and Otto Guericke, followed in the same course;
and the latter is the first who mentions the
crackling noise and faint light which electricity
sometimes produced. These, however, were
hardly perceived, and it was by Dr Wall, as
described in the Philosophical Transactions, that
they were first distinctly observed.1 By a sin¬
gularly fortunate anticipation, he remarks of
the light and crackling, that they seemed in
some degree to represent thunder and light¬
ning.
After the experiments of Hauksbee in 1709,
by which the knowledge of this mysterious sub¬
stance was considerably advanced, Wheeler and
Gray, who had discovered that one body could
communicate electricity to another without rub¬
bing, being willing to try to what distance the
electrical virtue might be thus conveyed, em¬
ployed, for the purpose of forming the commu¬
nication, a hempen rope, which they extended
to a considerable length, supporting it from the
sides by threads, which, in order to prevent the
dissipation of the electricity, they thought it
proper to make as slender as possible. They
employed silk threads with that view, and found
the experiment to succeed. Thinking that it
would succeed still better if the supports w^ere
made still more slender, they tried very fine
metallic wire, and were surprised to find that
the hempen rope, thus supported, conveyed no
electricity at all. It was therefore as being silk,
and not as being small, that the threads had
served to retain the electricity. This accident
led to the great distinction of substances con¬
ducting and not conducting electricity. An
extensive field of inquiry was thus opened, a
fortunate accident having supplied an instantia
crncis, and enabled these experimenters to dis¬
tinguish between what was essential and what
was casual in the operation they had performed.
The history of electricity, especially in its early
stages, abounds with facts of this kind; and no
man who would study the nature of inductive
science, and the rules for the interpretation of
nature, can employ himself better than in tra¬
cing the progress of these discoveries. He will
No. 314. p. G9. Hauksbee on Electrical Light, in the same
DISSERTATION THIRD.
545
find abundant reason to admire the ingenuity
as well as the industry of the inquirers, but he
will often find accident come in very oppor¬
tunely to the assistance of both. The experi¬
ments of Wheeler and Gray are described in
the Transactions for 1T29.
SECTION III.
OPTICS.
The invention of the telescope and the mi¬
croscope, the discoveries made concerning the
properties of light and the laws of vision, added
to the facility of applying mathematical reason¬
ing as an instrument of investigation, had long
given a peculiar interest to optical researches.
The experiments and inquiries of Newton on
that subject began in 1666, and soon made a
vast addition both to the extent and importance
of the science. He was at that time little more
than twenty-three years old; he had already
made some of the greatest and most original
discoveries in the pure mathematics; and the
same young man, whom we have been admiring
as the most profound and inventive of geome¬
ters, is to appear, almost at the same moment,
as the most patient, faithful, and sagacious in¬
terpreter of nature. These characters, though
certainly not opposed to one another, are not
often combined; but to be combined in so high
a degree, and in such early life, was hitherto
without example.
In hopes of improving the telescope, by giving
to the glasses a figure different from the spheri¬
cal, he had begun to make experiments, and had
procured a glass prism, in order, as he tells us,
to try with it the celebrated phenomena of colours.1
These trials led to the discovery of the different
refrangibility of the rays of light, and are now
too well known to stand in need of a particular
description.
Having admitted a beam of light into a dark
chamber, through a hole in the window-shutter,
and made it fall on a glass prism, so placed as
to cast it on the opposite wall, he was delighted
to observe the brilliant colouring of the sun’s
image, and not less surprised to observe its fi¬
gure, which, instead of being circular, as he ex¬
pected, was oblong in the direction perpendicu¬
lar to the edges of the prism, so as to have the
shape of a parallelogram, rounded at the two
ends, and nearly five times as long as it was
broad.
When he reflected on these appearances, he
saw nothing that could explain the elongation of
the image, but the supposition that some of the
rays of light, in passing through the prism, were
more refracted than others; so that rays which
were parallel when they fell on the prism, di¬
verged from one another after refraction, the
rays that differed in refrangibility differing also
in colour. The spectrum^ or solar image, would
thus consist of a series of circular images, partly
covering one another, and partly projecting one
beyond another, from the red or least refrangible
rays, in succession, to the orange, yellow, green,
blue, indigo, and violet, the most refrangible
of all.
It was not, however, till he tried every other
hypothesis which suggested itself to his mind by
the test of experiment, and proved its fallacy,
that he adopted this as a true interpretation of
the phenomena. Even after these rejections,
his explanation had still to abide the sentence
of an experimentum crucis.
Having admitted the light and applied a prism
1 Philosophical Transactions, vol. YI. (1672) p. 3075: also Hutton’s Abridgement, vol. I.p. 678. The account of the ex¬
periments is in a letter to Oldenburg, dated February 1672: it is the first of Newton’s works that was published. It is
plain, from what is said above, that the phenomena of the prismatic spectrum were not unknown at that time, however
little they were understood, and however imperfectly observed.
DISS. III. PART II. ! 3 Z
54G
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
as before, lie received the coloured spectrum on
a hoard at the distance of about twelve feet from
the first, and also pierced with a small hole.
The coloured light which passed through this
second hole was made to fall on a prism, and
afterwards received on the opposite wall. It
was then found that the rays which had been
most refracted, or most bent from their course
by the first prism, were most refracted also by
the second, though no new colours were pro¬
duced. “ So,” says he, “ the true cause of the
length of the image was detected to he no other
than that light consists of rays differently re¬
frangible, which, without any respect to a dif¬
ference in their incidence, were, according to
their degrees of refrangibility, transmitted to¬
wards divers parts of the wall.” 1
It was also observed, that when the rays
which fell on the second prism were all of the
same colour, the image formed by refraction
was truly circular, and of the same colour with
the incident light. This is one of the most con¬
clusive and satisfactory of all the experiments.
When the sun’s light is thus admitted, first
through one aperture, and then through another
at some distance from the first, and is afterwards
made to fall on a prism, as the rays come only
from a part of the sun’s disk, the spectrum has
nearly the same length as before, but the breadth
is greatly diminished; in consequence of which,
the light at each point is purer, it is free from
penumbra, and the confines of the different co¬
lours can be more accurately traced. It was in
this way that Newton measured the extent of
each colour; and taking the mean of a great
number of measures, he assigned the following
proportions, dividing the Avhole length of the
spectrum, exclusive of its rounded terminations,
into 360 equal parts: of these the
Red occupied - - 45
Orange - - 27
Yellow - - - 48
Green - - 60
Blue - - - 60
Indigo - - 40
Violet - - - 80
Between the divisions of the spectrum, thus
made by tbe different colours, and the divisions
of the monochord by the notes of music, Newton
conceived that there was an analogy, and indeed
an identity of ratios; but experience has since
shown that this analogy was accidental, as the
spaces occupied by the different colours do not
divide the spectrum in the same ratio, when
prisms of different kinds of glass are employed.
Such were the experiments by which Newton
first “ untwisted all the shining robe of day,”
and made known the texture of the magic gar¬
ment which nature has so kindly spread over
the surface of the visible world. From them it
followed, that colours are not qualities which
light derives from refraction or reflection, but
are original and connate properties connected
with the different degrees of refrangibility that
belong to the different rays. The same colour
is always joined to the same degree of refrangi¬
bility ; and conversely, the same degree of re¬
frangibility to the same colour.
Though the seven already enumerated are
primary and simple colours, any of them may
also be produced by a mixture of others. A
mixture of yellow and blue, for instance, makes
green; of red and yellow, orange; and, in ge¬
neral, if two colours which are not very far
asunder in the natural series be mixed together,
they compound the colour that is in the middle
between them.
But the most surprising composition of all,
Newton observes, is that of whiteness; which
is not produced by one sort of rays, but by the
mixture of all the colours in a certain propor¬
tion, namely, in that proportion which they
have in the solar spectrum. This fact may be
said to be made out both by analysis and com¬
position. The white light of the sun can be se¬
parated, as we have just seen, into the seven
simple colours; and if these colours be united
again, they form white. Should any of them
have been wanting, or not in its due proportion,
the white produced is defective.
It appeared, too, that natural bodies, of what¬
ever colour, if viewed by simple and homogene¬
ous light, are seen of the colour of that light, and
of no other. Newton tried this very satisfac-
Philosojilrical Transactions, vol. YI. (H*72) No. 80. p. 3075.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
547
tory experiment on bodies of all colours, and
found it to hold uniformly ; the light was never
changed by the colour of the body that reflect¬
ed it.
Newton, thus furnished with so many new
and accurate notions concerning the nature and
production of colour, proceeded to apply them
to the explanation of phenomena. The subject
which naturally oflered itself the first to this
analysis was the rainbow, which, by the grandeur
and simplicity of its figure, added to the brilli¬
ancy of its colours, in every age has equally at¬
tracted the attention of the peasant and of the
philosopher. That two refractions and one re¬
flection were at least a part of the machinery
which nature employed in the construction of
this splendid arch, had been known from the
time of Antonio de Dominis; and the manner
in which the arched figure is produced had been
shown by Descartes; so that it only remained
to explain the nature of the colour and its dis¬
tribution. As the colours were the same with
those exhibited by the pidsm, and succeeded in
the same order, it could hardly be doubted that
the cause was the same. Newton showed the
truth of his principles by calculating the extent
of the arch, the breadth of the coloured how, the
position of the secondary bow, its distance from
the primary, and by explaining the inversion of
the colours.1 There is not, perhaps, in science
any happier application of theory, or any in
which the mind rests with fuller confidence.
Other meteoric appearances seemed to be ca¬
pable of similar explanations, but the phenomena
being nowhere so regular or so readily subject¬
ed to measurement as those of the rainbow, the
theory cannot be brought to so severe a test, nor
the evidence rendered so satisfactory.
But a more difficult task remained,—to ex¬
plain the permanent colour of natural bodies.
Here, however, as it cannot be doubted that all
colour comes from the rays of light, so we must
conclude that one body is red and another violet,
because the one is disposed to reflect the red or
least refrangible rays, and the other to reflect
the violet or the most refrangible. Every body
manifests its disposition to reflect the light of its
own peculiar colour, by this, that if you cast on
it pure light, first of its own colour, and then of
any other, it will reflect the first much more co¬
piously than the second. If cinnabar, for ex¬
ample, and ultramarine blue be both exposed to
the same red homogeneous light, they will both
appear red, but the cinnabar strongly luminous
and resplendent, and the ultramarine of a faint
obscure red. If the homogeneal light thrown on
them be blue, the converse of the above will
take place.
Transparent bodies, particularly fluids, often
transmit light of one colour and reflect light of
another. Halley told Newton, that, being deep
under the surface of the sea in a diving-bell, in
a clear sunshine day, the upper side of his hand,
on which the sun shone darkly through the
water and through a small glass window in the
diving-bell, appeared of a red colour, like a da¬
mask rose, while the water below, and the under
part of his hand, looked green.2
But, in explaining the permanent colour of
bodies, this difficulty always presents itself:—
Suppose that a body reflects red or green light,
what is it that decomposes the light, and sepa¬
rates the red or the green from the rest? Re¬
fraction is the only means of decomposing light,
and separating the rays of one degree of refran-
gibility, and of one colour, from those of ano¬
ther. This appears to have been what led New¬
ton to study the colours produced by light pass¬
ing through thin plates of any transparent sub¬
stance. The appearances are very remarkable,
and had already attracted the attention both of
Boyle and of Hooke ; but the facts observed by
them remained insulated in their hands, and un¬
connected with other optical phenomena.
It probably had been often remarked, that
when two transparent bodies, such as glass, of
which the surfaces were convex in a certain de¬
gree, were pressed together, a black spot was
formed at the contact of the two, which was
surrounded with coloured rings, more or less
regular, according to the form of the surfaces.
In order to analyze a phenomenon that seemed
in itself not a little curious, Newton proposed to
make the experiment with surfaces of a regular
1 Optics, book i. part ii. prop. 9.
Ibid, book i. part ii. prop. 10.
548
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
curvature, such as was capable of being mea¬
sured. He took two object-glasses, one a plano¬
convex for a fourteen feet telescope, the other a
double convex for one of about fifty feet, and
upon this last be laid the. other with its plane
side downwards, pressing them gently together.
At their contact in the centre was a pellucid
spot, through which the light passed without
suffering any reflection. Round this spot was a
coloured circle or ring, exhibiting blue, white,
yellow, and red. This was succeeded by a
pellucid or dark ring, then a coloured ring of
violet, blue, green, yellow, and red, all copious
and vivid except the green. The third coloured
ring consisted of purple, blue, green, yellow,
and red. The fourth consisted of green and
red; those that succeeded became gradually
more dilute, and ended in whiteness. It was
possible to count as far as seven.
The colours of these rings were so marked by
peculiarities in shade and vivacity, that Newton
considered them as belonging to different orders;
so that an eye accustomed to examine them, on
any particular colour of a natural object being
pointed out, would be able to determine to what
order in this series it belonged.
Thus we have a system of rings or zones sur¬
rounding a dark central spot, and themselves
alternately dark and coloured, that is, alternate¬
ly transmitting the light and reflecting it. It is
evident that the thickness of the plates of air in¬
terposed between the glasses, at each of those
rings, must he a very material element in the
arrangement of this system. Newton therefore
undertook to compute their thickness. Having
carefully measured the diameters of the first six
coloured rings, at the most lucid part of each,
he found their squares to be as the progression
of odd numbers 1, 3, 5, 7, &e. The squares of
the distances from the centre of the dark spot to
each of these circumferences were, therefore, in
the same ratio, and consequently the thickness
of the plates of air, or the intervals between the
glasses, was as the numbers 1, 3, 5, 7, &c.
When the diameters of the dark or pellucid
rings which separated the coloured rings were
measured, their squares were found to be as the
even numbers 0, 2, 4-, 6; and, therefore, the
thickness of the plates through which the light
was wholly transmitted was as the same num¬
bers. A great many repeated measurements
assured the accuracy of these determinations.
As the curvature of the convex glass on which
the flat surface of the plano-convex rested was
known, and as the diameters of the rings were
measured in inches, it was easy to compute the
thickness of the plates of air, which correspond¬
ed to the different rings.
An inch being divided into 178000 parts, the
distance of the lenses for the first series, or for
13 5
the luminous rings, was&c.
For the second series
17S000’
4
&C.
178000
2
Vffioo 178000’
When the rings were examined by looking
through the lenses in the opposite direction, the
central spot appeared white, and, in other rings,
red was opposite to blue, yellow to violet, and
green to a compound of red and violet; the co¬
lours formed by the transmitted and the reflect¬
ed light being what is now called complement¬
ary, or nearly so, of one another; that is, such
as, when mixed, produce white.
When the fluid between the glasses was dif¬
ferent from air, as when it was water, the suc¬
cession of rings was the same; the only differ¬
ence was, that the rings themselves were nar¬
rower.
When experiments on thin plates were made
in such a way that the plate was of a denser
body than the surrounding medium, as in the
case of soap-bubbles, the same phenomena were
observed to take place. These phenomena New¬
ton also examined with his accustomed ac¬
curacy, and even bestowed particular care on
having the soap-bubbles as perfect and durable
as their frail structure would admit. In the eye
of philosophy no toy is despicable, and no occu¬
pation frivolous, that can assist in the discovery
of truth.
To the different degrees of tenuity, then, in
transparent substances, there seemed to be at¬
tached the powers of separating particular co¬
lours from the mass of light, and of rendering
them visible sometimes by reflection, and, in
other cases, by transmission. As there is rea¬
son to think, then, that the minute parts, the
mere particles of all bodies, even the most
opaque, are transparent, they may very well be
DISSERTATION THIRD.
549
conceived to act on light after the manner of the
thin plates, and to produce each, according to
its thickness and density, its appropriate colour,
which, therefore, becomes the colour of the sur¬
face. Thus the colours in which the bodies
round us appear everywhere arrayed, are redu¬
cible to the action of the parts which constitute
their surfaces on the refined and active fluid
which pervades, adorns, and enlightens the
world.
But the same experiments led to some new
and unexpected conclusions, that seemed to
reach the very essence of the fluid of which we
now speak. It was impossible to observe, with¬
out wonder, the rings alternately luminous and
dark that were formed between the two plates
of glass in the preceding experiments, and deter¬
mined to be what they were by the different
thickness of the air between the plates, and hav¬
ing to that thickness the relations formerly ex¬
pressed. A plate of which the thickness was
equal to a certain quantity multiplied by an odd
number, gave always a circle of the one kind;
but if the thickness of the plate was equal to the
same quantity multiplied by an even number, the
circle was of another kind, the light, in the first
case, being reflected, in the second transmitted.
Light penetrating a thin transparent plate, of
which the thickness was m, 3m, 5m, &c. was de¬
composed and reflected; the same light penetrat¬
ing the same plate, but of the thickness 0, 2m,
4m, was transmitted, though, in a certain degree,
also decomposed. The same light, therefore,
was transmitted or reflected, according as the
second surface of the plate of air through which
it passed was distant from the first by the inter¬
vals 0, 2, 4m, or m, 3m, 5m ; so that it becomes
necessary to suppose the same ray to be succes¬
sively disposed to be transmitted and to be re¬
flected at points of space separated from one
another by the same interval m. This constitutes
what Newton called Jits of easy transmission and
easy reflection, and forms one of the most singu¬
lar parts of his optical discoveries. It is so un¬
like any thing which analogy teaches us to ex¬
pect, that it has often been viewed with a degree
of incredulity, and regarded as at best but a con¬
jecture introduced to account for certain optical
phenomena. This, however, is by no means a
just conclusion ; for it is, in reality, a necessary
inference from appearances accurately observed,
and is no less entitled to be considered as a fact
than those appearances themselves. The diffi¬
culty of assigning a cause for such extraordinary
alternations cannot be denied, but does not entitle
us to doubt the truth of a conclusion fairly de¬
duced from experiment. The principle has been
confirmed by phenomena that were unknown to
Newton himself, and possesses this great and
unequivocal character of philosophic truth, that
it has served to explain appearances which were
not observed till long after the time when it
first became known.
We cannot follow the researches of Newton
into what regards the colours of thick plates,
and of bodies in general. We must not, how¬
ever, pass over his explanation of refraction,
which is among the happiest to be met with in
any part of science, and has the merit of con¬
necting the principles of optics with those of
dynamics.
The theory from which the explanation we
speak of is deduced is, that light is an emana¬
tion of particles, moving in straight lines with
incredible velocity, and attracted by the particles
of transparent bodies. When, therefore, light
falls obliquely on the surface of such a body, its
motion may be resolved into two, one parallel
to that surface, and the other perpendicular to
it. Of these, the first is not affected by the at¬
traction of the body, which is perpendicular to
its own surface; and, therefore, it remains the
same in the refracted that it was in the incident
ray. But the velocity perpendicular to the sur¬
face is increased by tbe attraction of the body,
and, according to tbe principles of dynamics,
(the 39th, book i. Princip.) whatever be the
quantity of this velocity, its square, on entering
the same transparent body, will always be aug¬
mented by the same quantity. But it is easy to
demonstrate that, if there be two right-angled
triangles, with a side in the one equal to a side
in the other, the hypotheneuse of the first being
given, and the squares of their remaining sides
differing by a given space, the sines of the angles
opposite to the equal sides must have a given
550
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ratio to one another.1 2 This amounts to the
same with saying, that, in the case before us,
the sine of the angle of incidence is to the sine
of the angle of refraction in a given ratio.
The explanation of the law of refraction thus
given is so highly satisfactory, that it affords a
strong argument in favour of the system which
considers light as an emanation of particles from
luminous bodies, rather than the vibrations of
an elastic fluid. It is true that Huygens de¬
duced from this last hypothesis an explanation
of the law of refraction, on which considerable
praise was bestowed in the former part of this
Dissertation. It is undoubtedly very ingenious,
but does not rest on the same solid and un¬
doubted principles of dynamics with the pre¬
ceding, nor does it leave the mind so completely
satisfied. Newton, in his Principia, has deduced
another demonstration of the same optical pro¬
position from the theory of central forces.8
The different refrangibility of the rays of
light forms no exception to the reasoning above.
The rays of each particular colour have their
own particular ratio subsisting between the sines
of incidence and refraction; or, in each, the
square that is added to the square of the per¬
pendicular velocity has its own value, which
continues the same while the transparent me¬
dium is the same.
Light, in consequence of these views, became,
in the hands of Newton, the means of making
important discoveries concerning the internal
and chemical constitution of bodies. The square
that is added to that of the perpendicular velo¬
city of light in consequence of the attractive force
of the transparent substance, is properly the
measure of the quantity of that attraction, and
is the same with the difference of the squares of
the velocities of the incident and the refracted
light. This is readily deduced, therefore, from
the ratio of the angle of incidence to that of re¬
fraction ; and when this is done for different
substances, it is found that the above measure
of the refracting power of transparent bodies is
nearly proportional to their density, with the
exception of those which contain much inflam¬
mable matter in their composition, or sulphur as
it was then called, which is always accompanied
with an increase of refracting power.5
Thus, the refracting power, ascertained as
above, when divided by the density, gives quo¬
tients not very different from one another, till
we come to the inflammable bodies, where a
great increase immediately takes place. In air,
for instance, the quotient is 5208, in rock-crys¬
tal 5450, and the same nearly in common glass.
But in spirit of wine, oil, amber, the same
quotients are 10121, 12607, 13654. Newton
found in the diamond, that this quotient is still
greater than any of the preceding, being 14556.4
Hence he conjectured, what has since been so
fully verified by experiment, that the diamond,
at least in part, is an inflammable body. Ob¬
serving, also, that the refracting power of water
is great for its density, the quotient, expounding
it as above, being 7845, he concluded, that an
inflammable substance enters into the composi¬
tion of that fluid,—a conclusion which has been
confirmed by one of the most certain but most
unexpected results of chemical analysis. The
views thus suggested by Newton have been suc¬
cessfully pursued by future inquirers, and the
action of bodies on light is now regarded as one
of the means of examining into their internal
constitution.
I should have before remarked, that the alter¬
nate disposition to be easily reflected and easily
transmitted serves to explain the fact, that all
transparent substances reflect a portion of the
incident light. The reflection of light from the
surfaces of opaque bodies, and from the anterior
surfaces of transparent bodies, appears to be pro¬
duced by a repulsive force exerted by those sur¬
faces at a determinate but very small distance,
in consequence of which there is stretched out
over them an elastic web, through which the par¬
ticles of light, notwithstanding their incredible
velocity, are not always able to penetrate.5 In
the case of a transparent body, the light, which,
when it arrives at this outwork, as it may be
1 Optics, book ii. part iii. prop. 10. 3 Optics, book i. part i. prop. 6.
2 Princip. Math. lib. i. prop. 94 : also Optics, book i. part i. prop. 6. 4 Ibid.
4 A velocity that enables light to pass from the sun to the earth in 8' IS", as is deduced from the eclipses of Jupiter’s
satellites.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
551
called, is in a jit of easy reflection, obeys of
course the repulsive force, and is reflected back
again. The particles, on the other hand, which
are in the state which disposes them to be trans¬
mitted, overcome the repulsive force, and, en¬
tering into the interior of the transparent body,
are subjected to the action of its attractive force,
and obey the law of refraction already explained.
If these rays, however, reach the second surface
of the transparent body (that body being sup¬
posed denser than the medium surrounding it)
in a direction having a certain obliquity to that
surface, the attraction will not suffer the rays
to emerge into the rarer medium, but will force
them to return back into the transparent body.
Thus, the reflection of light at the second sur¬
face of a transparent body is produced, not by
the repulsion of the medium in which it was
about to enter, but by the attraction of that
which it was preparing to leave.
The first account of the experiments from
which all these conclusions were deduced, was
given in the Philosophical Transactions for 1672,
and the admiration excited by their brilliancy
and their novelty may easily be imagined.
Among the men of science, the most enlight¬
ened were the most enthusiastic in their praise.
^uygens> writing to one of his friends, says of
them, and of the truths they were the means of
making known, “ Quorum respectu omnia hue
usque edita jejunia sunt et prorsus puerilia.” Such
were the sentiments of the person who, of all
men living, was the best able to judge, and had
the best right to be fastidious, in what related
to optical experiments and discoveries. But all
were not equally candid with the Dutch philo¬
sopher : and though the discovery now commu¬
nicated had every thing to recommend it which
can arise from what is great, new, and singu¬
lar ; though it was not a theory or a system of
opinions, but the generalization of facts made
known by experiments; and though it was
brought forward in the most simple and unpre¬
tending form, a host of enemies appeared, each
eager to obtain the unfortunate pre-eminence
of being the first to attack conclusions which
the unanimous voice of posterity was to con¬
firm. In this contention, the envy and activity
of Hooke did not fail to give him the advantage;
and he communicated his objections to Newton’s
conclusions concerning the refrangibility of light
in less than a month after they had been read
in the Royal Society. He admitted the accuracy
of the experiments themselves, but denied that
the cause of the colour is any quality residing
permanently in the rays of light, any more than
that the sounds emitted from the pipes of an or¬
gan exist originally in the air. An imaginary
analogy between sound and light seems to have
been the basis of all his optical theories. He
conceived that colour is nothing but the dis¬
turbance of light by pulses propagated through
it; that blackness proceeds from the scarcity,
whiteness from the plenty, of undisturbed light;
and that the prism acts by exciting different
pulses in this fluid, which pulses give rise to the
sensations of colour. This obscure and unin¬
telligible theory (if we may honour what is un¬
intelligible with the name of a theory) he ac¬
companied with a multitude of captious objec¬
tions to the reasonings of Newton, whom he was
not ashamed to charge with borrowing from him
without acknowledgement. To all this Newton
replied, with the solidity, calmness, and modes¬
ty, which became the understanding and the
temper of a true philosopher.
The new theory of colours was quickly as¬
sailed by several other writers, who seem all to
have had a better apology than Hooke for the
errors into which they fell. Among them one
of the first was Father Pardies, who wrote
against the experiments, and what he was pleased
to call the hypothesis, of Newton. A satisfac¬
tory and calm reply convinced him of his mis¬
take, which he had the candour very readily to
acknowledge. A countryman of his, Mariotte,
was more difficult to be reconciled, and, though
very conversant with experiment, appears never
to have succeeded in repeating the experiments
of Newton. Desaguliers, at the request of the
latter, repeated the experiments doubted of be¬
fore the Royal Society, where Monmort, a coun¬
tryman and a friend of Mariotte, was present.1
MM. Linus and Lucas, both of Liege, object-
1 Montucla, tom. II.
552
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ed to Newton’s experiments as inaccurate; the
first, because, on attempting to repeat them, he
had not obtained the same results; and the se¬
cond, because he had not been able to perceive
that a red object and a blue required the focal
distance to be different when they were viewed
through a telescope. Newton replied with great
patience and good temper to both.
The series was closed in 1727, by the work of
an Italian author, Rizetti, who, in like manner,
called in question the accuracy of experiments
which he himself had not been able to repeat.
Newton was now no more; but Desaguliers, in
consequence of Rizetti’sdoubts, instituteda series
of experiments which seemed to set the matter
entirely at rest. These experiments are de¬
scribed in the Philosophical Transactions for
1728.
An inference which Newton had immediately
drawn from the discoveries above described was,
that the great source of imperfection in the re¬
fracting telescope was the different refrangibility
of the rays of light, and that there were stronger
reasons than either Mersenne or Gregory had
suspected, for looking to reflection for the im¬
provement of optical instruments. It was evi¬
dent, from the different refrangibility of light,
that the rays coming from the same point of an
object, when decomposed by the refraction of a
lens, must converge to different foci; the red
rays, for example, to a point more distant from
the lens, and the violet to one nearer by about
a fifty-fourth part of the focal distance. Hence
it was not merely from the aberration of the
rays caused by the spherical figure of the lens
that the imperfection of the images formed by
refraction arose, but from the very nature of re¬
fraction itself. It was evident, at the same
time, that in a combination of lenses with oppo¬
site figures, one convex, for instance, and ano¬
ther concave, there was a tendency of the two
contrary dispersions to correct one another.
But it appeared to Newton, on examining dif¬
ferent refracting substances, that the dispersion
of the coloured rays never could be corrected
except when the refraction itself was entirely
destroyed; for he thought he had discovered
that the quantity of the refraction and of the
dispersion in different substances bore always
the same proportion to one another. This is
one of the few instances in which his conclusions
have not been confirmed by subsequent experi¬
ment ; and it will, accordingly, fall under dis¬
cussion in another part of this Dissertation.
Having taken the resolution of constructing
a reflecting telescope, he set about doing so with
his own hands. There was, indeed, at that
time, no other means by which such a work
could be accomplished; the art of the ordinary
glass-grinder not being sufficient to give to me¬
tallic specula the polish which was required. It
was on this account that Gregory had entirely
failed in realizing his very ingenious optical in¬
vention.
Newton, however, himself possessed excellent
hands for mechanical operations, and could use
them to better purpose than is common with
men so much immersed in deep and abstract
speculation. It appears, indeed, that mechani¬
cal invention was one of the powers of his mind
which began to unfold itself at a very early pe¬
riod. In some letters subjoined to a Memoir
drawn up after his death by his nephew Conduit,
it is said, that, when a boy, Newton used to
amuse himself with constructing machines, mills,
&c. on a small scale, in which he displayed
great ingenuity; and it is probable that he then
acquired that use of his hands which is so diffi¬
cult to be learned at a later period. To this,
probably, we owe the neatness and ingenuity
with which the optical experiments above re¬
ferred to were contrived and executed,—experi¬
ments of so difficult a nature, that any error in
the manipulation would easily defeat the effect,
and appears actually to have done so with many
of those who objected to his experiments.1
1 The Memoir of Conduit was sent to Fontenelle when he was preparing the Eloge on Newton, but he seems to have
paid little attention to it, and has passed over the early part of his life with the remark, that one may apply to him what
Lucan says of the Nile, that it has not been “ permitted to mortals to see that river in a feeble state.” If the letters above
referred to had formed a part of this communication, I think the Secretary of the Academy would have sacrificed a fine
comparison to an instructive fact. In other respects Conduit’s Memoir did not convey much information that could b0^
use. His instructions to Fontenelle are curious enough ; he bids him be sure to state, that Leibnitz had borrowed the
Differential Calculus from the Method of Fluxions. He conjured him in another place not to omit to mention, that Queen
DISSERTATION THIRD.
553
He succeeded perfectly in the construction of
his telescope; and his first communication with
Oldenburg', and the first reference to his optical
experiments, is connected with the construction
of this instrument, and mentioned in a letter
dated the 11th January 1672. He had then
been proposed as a member of the Royal Socie¬
ty by the bishop of Sarum, and he says, “ If
the honour of being a member of the Society
shall be conferred on me, I shall endeavour to
testify my gratitude by communicating what my
poor and solitary endeavours can effect toward
the promoting its philosophical designs.”1 Such
was the modesty of the man who was to effect a
greater revolution in the state of our knowledge
of nature than any individual had yet done, and
greater, perhaps, than any individual is ever des¬
tined to bring about. Success, however, never
altered the temper in Avhich he began his re¬
searches.
Newton, after considering the reflection and re¬
fraction of light, proceeded, in the third and last
book of his Optics, to treat of its inflection, a sub¬
ject which, as has been remarked in the former
part of this Dissertation, was first treated of by
Grimaldi. Newton having admitted a ray of light
through a hole in a window-shutter into a dark
chamber, made it pass by the edge of a knife,
or, in some experiments, between the edges of
two knives, fixed parallel and very near to one
another; and, by receiving the light on a sheet
of paper at different distances behind the knives,
he observed the coloured fringes which had been
described by the Italian optician, and, on ex¬
amination, found that the rays had been acted
on in passing the knife-edges both by repulsive
and attractive forces, and had begun to be so
acted on in a sensible degree when they were
yet distant by ¥ ig of an inch of the edges of the
knives. His experiments, however, on this sub¬
ject were interrupted, as he informs us, and do
not appear to have been afterwards resumed.
They enabled him, however, to draw this con¬
clusion, that the path of the ray, in passing by
the knife-edge, was bent in opposite directions,
so as to form a serpentine line, convex and con¬
cave toward the knife, according to the repulsive
or attractive forces which acted at different dis¬
tances ; that it was also reasonable to conclude,
that the phenomena of the refraction, reflection,
and inflection of light were all produced by the
same force variously modified, and that they did
not arise from the actual contact or collision of
the particles of light with the particles of bodies.
The third book of the Optics concludes with
those celebrated Queries which carry the mind
so far beyond the bounds of ordinary specula¬
tion, though still with the support and under
the direction either of direct experiment or close
analogy. They are a collection of propositions
relative chiefly to the nature of the mutual
action of light and of bodies on one another,
such as appeared to the author highly pro¬
bable, yet wanting such complete evidence as
might entitle them to be admitted as principles
established. Such enlarged and comprehensive
views, so many new and bold conceptions, were
never before combined with the sobriety and cau¬
tion of philosophical induction. The anticipa¬
tion of future discoveries, the assemblage of so
many facts from the most distant regions of
human research, all brought to bear on the same
points, and to elucidate the same questions, are
never to be sufficiently admired. At the mo¬
ment when they appeared, they must have pro¬
duced a wonderful sensation in the philosophic
world, unless, indeed, they advanced too far be¬
fore the age, and contained too much which the
comment of time was yet required to elucidate.
It is in the Queries that we meet with the
ideas of this philosopher concerning the Elastic
Ether, which he conceived to be the means of
Caroline used to delight much in the conversation of Newton, and nothing could do more honour to Newton than the com-
mendation of a Queen, the Minerva of her age. Fontenelle was too much a philosopher and a man of the world, and had
himself approached too near to the persons of princes, to be of Mr Conduit’s opinion, or to think that the approbation of
the most illustrious princess could add dignity to the man who had made the three greatest discoveries yet known, and in
whose hands the sciences of Geometry, Optics, and Astronomy, had all taken new forms. If he had been called to write
the Eloge of the Queen of England, he would, no doubt, have remarked her relish for the conversation of Newton.
On the whole, the Eloge on Newton has great merit, and, to be the work of one who was at bottom a Cartesian, is a sin¬
gular example of candour and impartiality.
1 Birch’s History of the Royal Society, vol. III. p. 3.
DISS. HI. PART II. 4 A
554
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
conveying tlie action of bodies from one part of
the universe to another, and to which the phe¬
nomena of light, of heat, of gravitation, are to
be ascribed. Here we have his conclusions con¬
cerning that polarity or peculiar virtue residing
in the opposite sides of the rays of light, which
lie deduced from the enigmatical phenomena of
doubly-refracting crystals. Here, also, the first
step is made toward the doctrine of elective at¬
tractions or of chemical affinity, and to the no¬
tion, that the phenomena of chemistry, as well
as of cohesion, depend on the alternate attrac¬
tions and repulsions existing between the par¬
ticles of bodies at different distances. The com¬
parison of the gradual transition from repulsion
to attraction at those distances, with the posi¬
tive and negative quantities in algebra, was first
suggested here, and is the same idea which the
ingenuity of Boscovich afterwards expanded into
such a beautiful and complete system. Others
who have attempted such flights had ended in
mere fiction and romance: it is only for such
men as Bacon or Newton to soar beyond the re¬
gion of poetical fiction, still keeping sight of
probability, and alighting again safe on the ter¬
ra firma of philosophic truth.1
SECTION IV.
ASTRONOMY.
The time was now come when the world was
to be enlightened by a new science, arising out
of the comparison of the phenomena of motion
as observed in the heavens, with the laws of
motion as known on the earth. Physical astro-
nomv was the result of this comparison; a science
embracing greater objects, and destined for a
higher flight, than any other branch of natural
knowledge. It is unnecessary to observe, that it
was by Newton that the comparison just refer¬
red to was instituted, and the riches of the new
science unfolded to mankind.
This young philosopher, already signalized by
great discoveries, had scarcely reached the age
of twenty-four, when a great public calamity
forced him into the situation where the first step
in the new science is said to have been suggest¬
ed ; and that, by some of those common appear¬
ances in which an ordinary man sees nothing to
draw his attention, nor even the man of genius,
except at those moments of inspiration when
the mind sees farthest into the intellectual world.
In 1666, the plague forced him to retire from
Cambridge into the country; and, as he sat one
day alone, in a garden, musing on the nature of
the mysterious force by which the phenomena
at the earth’s surface are so much regulated, he
observed the apples falling spontaneously from
the trees, and the thought occurred to him,
since gravity is a tendency not confined to
bodies on the very surface of the earth, but
reaching to the tops of trees, to the tops of the
highest buildings, nay, to the summits of the
most lofty mountains, without its intensity or
direction suffering any sensible change, why
may it not reach to a much greater distance,
and even to the moon itself t And, if so, may
not the moon be retained in her orbit by gravity,
1 The optical works of Newton are not often to be found all brought together into one body. The first part of them
consists of the papers in the Philosophical Transactions, which gave the earliest account of his discoveries, and wine
been already referred to. They are in the form of Letters to Oldenburg, the Secretary of the Society, as are also the an¬
swers to Hooke and the others who objected to these discoveries ; the whole forming a most interesting and va ua e
series, which Dr Horsley has published in the fourth volume of his edition of .Newton’s works, under the title ox Letters re¬
lating to the Theory of Light and Colours. The next work, in point of time, consists of the Lectiones Opticas, or the op ica
lectures which the author delivered at Cambridge. The Optics, in three books, is the last and most complete, containing
all the reasoning concerning optical phenomena above referred to. The first edition was in 1704» the second, with a u-
tions, in 1717* Newtoni Opera, tom. IV. Horsley’s edition.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
and forced to describe a curve like a projectile
at the surface of the earth ? 1
Here another consideration very naturally oc¬
curred. Though gravity be not sensibly weak¬
ened at the small distances from the surface to
which our experiments extend, it may be weak¬
ened at greater distances, and at the moon may
be greatly diminished. To estimate the quan¬
tity of this diminution, Newton appears to have
reasoned thus: If the moon be retained in her
orbit by her gravitation to the earth, it is pro¬
bable that the planets are, in like manner, car¬
ried round the sun by a power of the same kind
with gravity, directed to the centre of that lu¬
minary. He proceeded, therefore, to inquire
by what law the tendency or gravitation of the
planets to the sun must diminish, in order that,
describing, as they do, orbits nearly circular
round the sun, their times of revolution and
their distances may have the relation to one an¬
other which they are known to have from ob¬
servation, or from the third law of Kepler.
This was an investigation which, to most even
of the philosophers and mathematicians of that
age, would have proved an insurmountable ob¬
stacle to their further progress; but Newton was
too familiar with the geometry of evanescent or
infinitely small quantities, not to discover very
soon that the law now referred to would require
the force of gravity to diminish exactly as the
square of the distance increased. The moon,
therefore, being distant from the earth about
sixty semidiameters of the earth, the force of
gravity at that distance must be reduced to the
3600th part of what it is at the earth’s surface.
Was the deflection of the moon then from the
tangent of her orbit, in a second of time, just
the 3600th part of the distance which a heavy
body falls in a second at the surface of the
earth ? This was a question that could be pre¬
cisely answered, supposing the moon’s distance
known, not merely in semidiameters of the earth,
but in feet, and her angular velocity, or the time
of her revolution in her orbit, to be also known.
In this calculation, however, being at a dis¬
tance from books, he took the common estima¬
tion of the earth’s circumference that was in
555
use before the measurement of Norwood or of
the French Academicians, according to which a
degree is held equal to 60 English miles. This
being in reality a very erroneous supposition,
the result of the calculation did not represent
the force as adequate to the supposed effect;
whence Newton concluded that some other
cause than gravity must act on the moon, and
on that account he laid aside, for the time, all
further speculation on the subject. It was in
the true spirit of philosophy that he so readily
gave up an hypothesis, in which he could not
but feel some interest, the moment he found it
at variance with observation. He was sensible
that nothing but the exact coincidence of the
things compared could establish the conclusion
he meant to deduce, or authorize him to pro¬
ceed with the superstructure, for which it was
to serve as the foundation.
It appears, that it was not till some years
after this that his attention was called to the
same subject, by a letter from Dr Hooke, pro¬
posing, as a question, To determine the line
in which a body let fall from a height descends
to the ground, taking into consideration the
motion of the earth on its axis. This induced
him to resume the subject of the moon’s motion;
and the measure of a degree by Norwood having
now furnished more exact data, he found that
his calculation gave the precise quantity for the
moon’s momentary deflection from the tangent
of her orbit, which was deduced from astrono¬
mical observation. The moon, therefore, has a
tendency to descend toward the earth, from the
same cause that a stone at its surface has; and
if the descent of the stone in a second be dimi¬
nished in the ratio of 1 to 3600, it will give the
quantity by which the moon descends in a se¬
cond, below the tangent to her orbit; and thus
is obtained an experimental proof of the fact,
that gravity decreases as the square of the dis¬
tance increases. He had already found that the
times of the planetary revolutions, supposing
their orbits to be circular, led to the same con¬
clusion ; and he now proceeded, with a view to
the solution of Hooke’s problem, to inquire what
their orbits must be, supposing the centripetal
1 Pemberton’s Fiew of Newton's Philosophy, Pref.
556
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS*
force to be inversely as the square of the dis¬
tance, and the initial or projectile force to he
any whatsoever. On this subject, Pemberton
says, he composed (as he calls it) a dozen pro¬
positions, which probably were the same with
those in the beginning of the Principia, such
as the description of equal areas in equal times,
about the centre of force, and the ellipticity of
the orbits described under the influence of a
centripetal force that varied inversely as the
squares of the distances.
What seems very difflcult to be explained is,
that after having made trial of his strength,
and of the power of the instruments of investi¬
gation which he was now in possession of, and
had entered by means of them on the noblest
and most magnificent field of investigation that
was ever yet opened to any of the human race,
he again desisted from the pursuit, so that it
was not till several years afterwards that the
conversation of Dr Halley, who made him a
visit at Cambridge, induced him to resume and
extend his researches.
He then found, that the three great facts in
astronomy, which form the laws of Kepler,
gave the most complete evidence to the system
of gravitation. The first of them, the propor¬
tionality of the areas described by the radius
vector to the times in which they are described,
is the peculiar character of the motions pro¬
duced by an original impulse impressed on a
body, combined with a centripetal force contin¬
ually urging it to a given centre. The second
law, that the planets describe ellipses, having
the sun in one of the foci, common to them all,
coincides with this proposition, that a body under
the influence of a centripetal force, varying as
the square of the distance inversely, and having
any projectile force whatever originally im¬
pressed on it, must describe a conic section
having one focus in the centre of force, which
section, if the projectile force does not exceed a
certain limit, will become an ellipse. The third
law, that the squares of the periodic times are
as the cubes of the distances, is a property which
belongs to the bodies describing elliptic orbits
under the conditions just stated. Thus the three
great truths to which the astronomy of the
planets had been reduced by Kepler, were all
explained in the most satisfactory manner, by
the supposition that the planets gravitate to the
sun with a force which varies in the inverse
ratio of the squares of the distances. It added
much to this evidence, that the observations of
Cassini had proved the same laws to prevail
among the satellites of Jupiter.
But did the principle which appeared thus to
unite the great bodies of the universe act only
on those bodies ? Did it reside merely in their
centres, or was it a force common to all the
particles of matter? Mas it a fact that every
particle of matter had a tendency to unite with
every other ? Or was that tendency directed only
to particular centres? It could hardly be doubt¬
ed that the tendency was common to all the par¬
ticles of matter. The centres of the great bodies
had no properties as mathematical points; they
had none but what they derived from the mate¬
rial particles distributed around them. But the
question admitted of being brought to a better
test than that of such general reasoning as the
preceding. The bodies between which this ten¬
dency had been observed to take place were all
round bodies, and either spherical or nearly so;
but whether great or small, they seemed to
gravitate toward one another according to the
same law. The planets gravitated to the sun,
the moon to the earth, the satellites of Jupiter
toward Jupiter; and gravity, in all these in¬
stances, varied inversely as the squares of the
distances. Were the bodies ever so small—were
they mere particles—provided only they were
round, it was therefore safe to infer, that they
would tend to unite with forces inversely as the
squares of the distances. It was probable, then,
that gravity was the mutual tendency of all the
particles of matter toward one another; but this
could not be concluded with certainty, till it was
found whether great spherical bodies, composed
of particles gravitating according to this law,
would themselves gravitate according to the
same. Perhaps no man of that age but Newton
himself was fit to undertake the solution of this
problem. His analysis, either in the form of flux¬
ions or in that of prime and ultimate ratios, was
able to reduce it to the quadrature of curves; and
he then found, no doubt infinitely to his satisfac¬
tion, that the law was the same for the sphere as
DISSERTATION THIRD.
for the particles which compose it; that the
gravitation was directed to the centre of the
sphere, and was as the quantity of matter con¬
tained in it, divided by the square of the distance
from its centre. I bus a complete expression
was obtained for the law of gravity, involving
both the conditions on which it must depend, the
quantity of matter in the gravitating bodies, and
the distance at which the bodies were placed.
There could be no doubt that this tendency was
always mutual, as there appeared nowhere any
exception to the rule that action and re-action
are equal; so that if a stone gravitated to the
earth, the earth gravitated equally to the stone;
that is to say, the two bodies tended to ap¬
proach one another with velocities which were
inversely as their quantities of matter.1 There
appeared to be no limit to the distance to which
this action reached; it was a force that united
all the parts of matter to one another ; and if it
appeared to be particularly directed to certain
points, such as the centres of the sun or of the
planets, it was only on account of the quantity
of matter collected and distributed uniformly
round those points, through which, therefore,
the force resulting from the composition of all
those elements must pass either accurately or
nearly.
A remarkable inference was deduced from this
view of the planetary motions, giving a deep in¬
sight into the constitution of our system in a
matter that seems the most recondite, and the
farthest beyond the sphere which necessarily
circumscribes human knowledge. The quantity
of matter, and even the density of the planets,
was determined. We have seen how Newton
compared the intensity of gravitation at the sur¬
face of the earth with its intensity at the moon ;
and by a computation somewhat similar, he com¬
pared the intensity of the earth’s gravitation to
the sun with the moon’s gravitation to the earth,
each being measured by the contemporaneous and
momentary deflection from a tangent to the small
arch of its orbit. A more detailed investigation
showed, that the intensity of the central force in
557
diflfei ent orbits is as the mean distance divided
by the square of the periodic time; and the same
intensity being also as the quantities of matter
divided by the squares of the distances, it follows
that these two quotients are equal to one another,
and that, therefore, the quantities of matter are
as the mean distances divided by the squares of
the periodic times. Supposing, therefore, in the
instance just mentioned, that the ratio of the
mean distance of the sun from the earth to the
mean distance of the moon from the earth is
given (which it is from astronomical observa¬
tion) ; as the ratio of their periodic lines is also
known, the ratio of the quantity of matter in the
sun to the quantity of matter in the earth, of
consequence, is found; and the same holds good
for all the planets which have satellites moving
round them. Nothing certainly can be more
unexpected than that the quantities of matter in
bodies so remote should admit of being compar¬
ed with one another, and with the earth. Hence
also their mean densities, or mean specific gra¬
vities, became known. For, from their distances
and the angles they subtended, both known from
observation, their magnitudes or cubical contents
were easily inferred; and the densities of all
bodies are, as their quantities of matter, divided
by their magnitude. The Principia Philosophies
Naturalis, which contained all these discoveries,
and established the principle of universal gravi¬
tation, was given to the world in 1687, an era,
on that account, for ever memorable in the his¬
tory of human knowledge.
The principle of gravity, which was thus fully
established, and its greatest and most extensive
consequences deduced, was not now mentioned
for the first time, though for the first time its
existence as a fact was ascertained, and the law
it observes was discovered. Besides some curi¬
ous references to weight and gravity, contained
in the writings of the ancients, we find some¬
thing more precise concerning it in the writings
of Copernicus, Kepler, and Hooke.
Anaxagoras is said to have held that <{ the
heavens are kept in their place by the rapidity
1 If M and M' are the masses of two spheres, and x the distance of their centres, is the accelerating force
with which they tend to unite; but the velocity of the approach of M will be , and of M’ ^
x
558
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
of their revolution, and would fall down if that
rapidity were to cease.”1
Plutarch, in like manner, says the moon is
kept from falling by the rapidity of her motion,
just as a stone whirled round in a sling is pre¬
vented from falling to the ground.2
Lucretius, reasoning probably after Democri¬
tus, holds, that the atoms would all, from their
gr-avity, have long since united in the centre of
the universe, if the universe were not infinite,
so as to have no centre.3
An observation of Pythagoras, supposed to
refer to the doctrine of gravity, though in real¬
ity extremely vague, has been abundantly com¬
mented on by Gregory and Maclaurin. A mu¬
sical string, said that philosopher, gives the
same sound with another of twice the length, if
the latter be straitened by four times the weight
that straitens the former; and the gravity of a
planet is four times that of another which is at
twice the distance. These are the most precise
notices, as far as I know, that exist in the writ¬
ings of the ancients concerning gravity as a force
acting on terrestrial bodies, or as extending even
to those that are more distant. They are the
reveries of ingenious men who had no steady
principles deduced from experience and obser¬
vation to direct their inquiries, and who, even
when in their conjectures they hit on the truth,
could hardly distinguish it from error.
Copernicus, as might he expected, is consi¬
derably more precise. “ I do not think,” says
he, “ that gravity is anything hut a natural ap¬
petency of the parts (of the earth) given by the
providence of the Supreme Being, that, by unit¬
ing together, they may assume the form of a
globe. It is probable that this same affection
belongs to the sun, the moon, and the fixed
stars, which are all of a round form.”4
The power which Copernicus here speaks of
has nothing to do, in his opinion, with the revo¬
lutions of the earth or the planets in their dif¬
ferent orbits. It is merely intended as an ex¬
planation of their globular forms; and the con¬
sideration that does the author most credit is
that of supposing the force to belong, not to
the centre, but to all the parts of the earth.
Kepler, in his immortal work on the Motions
of Mars, treats of gravity as a force acting na¬
turally from planet to planet, and particularly
from the earth to the moon. If the moon and
the earth were not retained by some animal or
other equivalent force each in its orbit, the
earth would ascend to the moon by a 54th part
of the interval between them, while the moon
moved over the remaining 53 parts, that is, sup¬
posing them both of the same density.”5 This
passage is curious, as displaying a singular mix¬
ture of knowledge and error on the subject of
the planetary motions. The tendency of the
earth and moon being mutual, and producing
equal quantities of motion in those bodies, be¬
speaks an accurate knowledge, of the nature
of that tendency, and of the equality, at least
in this instance, between action and re-action.
Then, again, the idea of an animal force, or
some other equally unintelligible power, being
necessary to carry on the circular motion, and
to prevent the bodies from moving directly to¬
ward each other, is very strange; considering
that Kepler knew the inertia of matter, and
ought therefore to have understood the nature
of centrifugal force, and its power to counteract
the mutual gravitations of the two bodies. In
this respect the great astronomer, who was lay¬
ing the foundation of all that is known of the
heavens, was not so far advanced as Anaxago¬
ras and Plutarch ;—so slow and unequal are the
steps by which science advances to perfection.
The mutual gravity of the earth and moon is
not supposed by Kepler to have any concern in
the production of their circular motions; yet he
holds the tides to be produced by the gravita¬
tion of the waters of the sea toward the moon.6
The length to which Galileo advanced in this
direction, and the point at which he stopped,
1 Coelum omne vehementi circuitu constare, alias remissione lapsurura. (Diog. Laert. in Anax. lib. u. sect. 1 •)
2 De Facie in Orbe Lunce.
3 Lib. i. v. 983.
4 De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium, lib. i. cap. ix. p. 17*
* On that supposition their quantities of matter would be as their bulks, or as 1 to 53.
6 Astronomia Stellce Martis, Introd. parag. 8.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
559
are no less curious to be remarked. Though so
well acquainted with the nature of gravity on
the earth s surface, the object of so many of
his researches and discoveries,—and though he
conceived it to exist in all the planets, nay, in
all the celestial bodies, and to be the cause of
their round figure, he did not believe it to be a
power that extended from one of those bodies to
another. He seems to have thought that gravity
was a principle which regmlated the domestic
economy of each particular body, but had no¬
thing to do with their external relations; so
that he censured Kepler for supposing that the
phenomena of the tides are produced by the
gravitation of the waters of the ocean to the
moon.1
Hooke did not stop short in the same unac¬
countable manner, but made a nearer approach
to the truth than any one had yet done. In his
attempt to prove the motion of the earth, pub¬
lished in 16'74, he lays it down as the principle
on which the celestial motions are to be ex¬
plained, that the heavenly bodies have an attrac¬
tion or gravitation toward their own centres,
which extends to other bodies within the sphere
of their activity; and that all bodies would
move in straight lines, if some force like this
did not act on them continually, and compel
them to describe circles, ellipses, or other curve
lines. The force of gravity, also, he considered
as greatest nearest the body, though the law of
its variation he could not determine. These are
great advances;—though, from his mention of
the sphere of activity, from his considering the
force as residing in the centre, and from his ig¬
norance of the law which it observed, it is evi¬
dent that, besides great vagueness, there was
much error in his notions about gravity. Hooke,
however, whose candour and uprightness bore
no proportion to the strength of his understand¬
ing, was disingenuous enough, when Newton
had determined that law, to lay claim himself
to the discovery.
This is the farthest advance that the know¬
ledge of the cause of the celestial motions had
made before the investigations of Newton : it is
the precise point at which this knowledge had
stopped, having met with a resistance which
required a mathematician armed with all the
powers of the new analysis to overcome. The
doctrine of gravity was yet no more than a con¬
jecture, of the truth or falsehood of which the
measurements and reasonings of geometry could
alone determine.
Thus, then, we are enabled accurately to per¬
ceive in what Newton’s discovery consisted. It
was in giving the evidence of demonstration to
a principle which a few sagacious men had been
sufficiently sharp-sighted to see obscurely or in¬
accurately, and to propose as a mere conjecture.
In the history of human knowledge, there is
hardly any discovery to which some gradual
approaches had not been made before it was
completely brought to light. To have found
out the means of giving certainty to the thing
asserted, or of disproving it entirely, and, when
the reality of the principle was found out, to
measure its quantity, to ascertain its laws, and
to trace their consequences with mathematical
precision,—in this consists the great difficulty
and the great merit of such a discovery as that
which is now before us. In this Newton had no
competitor : envy was forced to acknowledge
that he had no rival, and consoled itself with
supposing that he had no judge.
Of all the physical principles that have yet
been made known, there is none so fruitful in
consequences as that of gravitation; but the
same skill that had directed Newton to the dis¬
covery was necessary to enable him to trace its
consequences.
The mutual gravitation of all bodies being ad¬
mitted, it was evident, that while the planets
were describing their orbits round the greatest
and most powerful body in the system, they
must mutually attract one another; and thence,
in their revolutions, some irregularities, some
deviations from the description of equal areas in
equal times, and from the laws of the elliptic
motion, might be expected. Such irregularities,
however, had not been observed at that time in
the motion of any of the planets, except the
moon, where some of them were so conspicuous
as to have been known to Hipparchus and
1 Dialogo iv.: Opeve, tom. IV. p. 325. Padova, 1744, 4 tom. 4to.
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
5G0
Ptolemy. Newton, therefore, was very natu¬
rally led to inquire what the different forces
were, which, according to the laws just esta¬
blished, could produce irregularities in the case
of the moon’s motion. Beside the force of the
earth, or rather of the mutual gravitation of the
moon and earth, the moon must be acted on by
the sun; and the same force which was suffi¬
cient to bend the orbit of the earth into an el¬
lipse, could not but have a sensible effect on the
orbit of the moon. Here Newton immediately
observed, that it is not the whole of the force
which the sun exerts cn the moon that disturbs
her motion round the earth, but only the differ¬
ence between the force just mentioned and that
which the sun exerts on the earth ; for it is only
that difference that affects the relative positions
of the two bodies. To have exact measures of
the disturbing forces, he supposed the entire
force of the sun on the moon to be resolved into
two, of which one always passed through the
centre of the earth, and the other was always
parallel to the line joining the sun and earth,—
consequently, to the direction of the force of the
sun on the earth. The former of these forces
being directed to the centre of the earth, did
not prevent the moon from describing equal
areas in equal times round the earth. The ef¬
fect of it on the whole, however, he showed to
be, to diminish the gravity of the moon to the
earth by about one 358th part, and to increase
her mean distance in the same proportion, and
her angular motion by about a 179th.
From the moon thus gravitating to the centre
of the earth, not by a force that is altogether in¬
versely as the square of the distance, but by
such a force diminished by a small part that va¬
ries simply as the distance, it was found, from a
very subtile investigation, that the dimensions of
the elliptic orbit would not be sensibly changed,
but that the orbit itself would be rendered
movable, its longer axis having an angular and
progressive motion, by which it advanced over
a certain arc during each revolution of the moon.
This afforded an explanation of the motion of
the apsides of the lunar oi*bit which had been
observed to go forward at the rate of 3° 4' near¬
ly, during the time of the moon’s revolution, in
respect of the fixed stars.
This was a new proof of the reality of the
principle of gravitation, which, however, was
rendered less conclusive by the consideration
that the exact quantity of the motion of the ap¬
sides observed did not come out from the dimi¬
nution of the moon’s gravity as above assigned.
There was a sort of cloud, therefore, which hung
over this point of the lunar theory, to dissipate
which required higher improvements in the cal¬
culus than it was given to the inventor himself
to accomplish. It was not so with respect to
another motion to which the plane of the lunar
orbit is subject, a phenomenon which had been
long known in consequence of its influence on
the eclipses of the sun and moon. This was the
retrogradation of the line of nodes, amounting
to 3' 10" every day. Newton showed that the
second of the forces into which the solar action
is moved being exerted, not in the plane of the
moon’s orbit, but in that of the ecliptic, inclined
to the former at an angle somewhat greater than
five degrees, its effect must be to draw down the
moon to the plane of the ecliptic sooner than it
would otherwise arrive at it; in consequence of
which, the intersection of the two planes would
approach, as it were, toward the moon, or move
in a direction opposite to that of the moon’s mo¬
tion, or become retrograde. From the quantity
of the solar force, and the inclination of the
moon’s orbit, Newton determined the mean
quantity of this retrogradation, as well as the
irregularities to which it is subject, and found
both to agree very accurately with observation.
Another of the lunar inequalities,—that dis¬
covered by Tycho, and called by him the Vari¬
ation, which consists in the alternate accelera¬
tion and retardation of the moon in each quarter
of her revolution,—was accurately determined
from theory, such as it is found by observation;
and the same is true as to the annual equation,
which had been long confounded with the equa¬
tion of time. With regard to the other inequa¬
lities, it does not appear that Newton attempted
an exact determination of them, but satisfied
himself with this general truth, that the prin¬
ciple of the sun’s disturbing force led to the sup¬
position of inequalities of the same kind with
those actually observed, though whether of the
same exact quantity it must be difficult to deter-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
561
mine. It was reserved, indeed, for a more per¬
fect state of the calculus to explain the whole of
those irregularities, and to deduce their precise
value from the theory of gravity. Theory has
led to the knowledge of many inequalities,
which observation alone would have been un¬
able to discover.
While Newton was thus so successfully occu¬
pied in tracing the action of gravity among those
distant bodies, he did not, it may be supposed,
neglect the consideration of its effects on the ob¬
jects which are nearer us, and particularly on
the figure of the earth. We have seen that,
even with the limited views and imperfect in¬
formation which Copernicus possessed on this
subject, he ascribed the round figure of the earth
and of the planets to the force of gravity residing
in the particles of these bodies. Newton, on the
other hand, perceived that, in the earth, another
force was combined with gravity, and that the
figure resulting from that combination could not
be exactly spherical. The diurnal revolution of
the earth, he knew, must produce a centrifugal
force, which would act most powerfully on the
parts most distant from the axis. The amount
of this centrifugal force is greatest at the equa¬
tor ; and being measured by the momentary re¬
cess of any point from the tangent, which was
known from the earth’s rotation, it could be com¬
pared with the force of gravity at the same
place, measured in like manner by the descent
of a heavy body in the first moment of its fall.
When Newton made this comparison, he found
that the centrifugal force at the equator is the
289th part of gravity, diminishing continually
as the cosine of the latitude, on going from thence
toward the poles, where it ceases altogether.
From the combination of this force, though small,
with the force of gravity, it follows, that the line
in which bodies actually gravitate, or the plumb
line, cannot tend exactly to the earth’s centre,
and that a true horizontal line, such as is drawn
by levelling, if continued from either pole, in
the plane of a meridian all round the earth,
would not be a circle, but an ellipse, having its
greatest axis in the plane of the equator, and its
least in the direction of the axis of the earth’s
rotation. Now, the surface of the ocean itself
actually traces this level as it extends from the
diss. in. PART II.
equator to either pole. The terraqueous mass
which we call the globe must therefore be what
geometers call an oblate spheroid, or a solid
generated by the revolution of the elliptic meri¬
dian about its shorter axis.
In order to determine the proportion of the
axes of this spheroid, a problem, it will readily
be believed, of no ordinary difficulty, Newton
conceived, that if the waters at the pole and at
the equator were to communicate by a canal
through the interior of the earth, one branch
reaching from the pole to the centre, and the
other at right angles to it from the centre to
the circumference of the equator, the water in
this canal must be in equilibria, or the weight of
fluid in the one branch just equal to that in the
other. Including, then, the consideration of the
centrifugal force which acted on one of the
branches but not on the other, and considering,
too, that the figure of the mass being no longer
a sphere, the attraction must not be supposed to
be directed to the centre, but must be consider¬
ed as the result of the action of all the particles
of the spheroid on the fluid in the canals,—by a
very subtile process of reasoning, Newton found
that the longer of the two canals must be to the
shorter as 230 to 229. This, therefore, is the
ratio of the radius of the equator to the polar
semiaxis, their difference amounting, according
to the dimensions then assigned to the earth, to
about English miles. In this investiga¬
tion the earth is understood to be homogeneous,
or everywhere of the same density.
It is very remarkable, that though the ingeni¬
ous and profound reasoning on which this con¬
clusion rests is not entirely above objection, and
assumes some things without sufficient proof,
yet, when these defects were corrected in the
new investigations of Maclaurin and Clairaut,
the conclusion, supposing the earth homogene¬
ous, remained exactly the same. The sagacity
of Newton, like the Genius of Socrates, seemed
sometimes to inspire him with wisdom from an
invisible source. By a profound study of na¬
ture, her laws, her analogies, and her resources,
he seems to have acquired the same sort of tact
ox feeling in matters of science, that experienced
engineers and other artists sometimes acquire in
matters of practice, by Which they are often di-
4 6
562
preliminary dissertations.
reeled right, when they can scarcely describe in
words the principle on which they proceed.
From the figure of the earth thus determined,
he showed that the intensity of gravity at any
point of the surface is inversely as the distance
of that point from the centre; and its increase,
therefore, on going from the equator to the poles,
is as the square of the sine of the latitude, the
same ratio in which the degrees of the meridian
increase.1 As the intensity of gravity diminish¬
ed on going from the poles to the equator, or
from the higher to the lower latitudes, it follow¬
ed that a pendulum of a given length would
vibrate slower when carried from Europe into
the torrid zone. The observations of the two
French astronomers Varin and I)e Hayes, made
at Cayenne and Martinique, had already confirm¬
ed this conclusion.
The problem which Newton had thus resolved
enabled him to resolve one of still greater diffi¬
culty. The precession, that is, the retrograda-
tion, of the equinoctial points, had been long
known to astronomers; its rate had been measur¬
ed by a comparison of ancient and modern ob¬
servations, and found to amount nearly to 50"
annually, so as to complete an entire revolution
of the heavens in 25,920 years. Nothing seem¬
ed more difficult to explain than this phenome¬
non, and no idea of assigning a physical or me¬
chanical cause for it had yet occurred, I believe,
to the boldest and most theoretical astronomer.
The honour of assigning the true cause was re¬
served for the most cautious of philosophers.
He was directed to this by a certain analogy ob¬
served between the precession of the equinoxes
and the retrogradation of the moon’s nodes, a
phenomenon to which his calculus had been
already successfully applied. The spheroidal
shell or ring of matter which surrounds the
earth, as we have just seen, in the direction of
the equator, being one half above the plane of
the ecliptic and the other half below, is subject¬
ed to the action of the solar force, the tendency
of which is to make this ring turn on the line of
its intersection with the ecliptic, so as ultimate¬
ly to coincide with the plane of that circle.
This, accordingly, would have happened long
since, if the earth had not revolved on its axis.
The effect of the rotation of the spheroidal ring
from west to east, at the same time that it is
drawn down toward the plane of the ecliptic,
is to preserve the inclination of these two planes
unchanged, but to make their intersection move
in a direction opposite to that of the diurnal ro¬
tation, that is, from east to west, or contrary to
the order of the signs.
The calculus in its result justified this general
conclusion : 10" appeared the part of the effect
due to the moon’s attraction, 40" to the attrac¬
tion of the sun; and I know not if there be any
thing respecting the constitution of our system,
in which this great philosopher gave a stronger
proof of his sagacity and penetration, than in
the explanation of this phenomenon. The truth,
however, is, that his data for resolving the pro¬
blem were in some degree imperfect, all the cir¬
cumstances were not included, and some were
erroneously applied, yet the great principle and
scope of the solution were right, and the ap¬
proximation very near to the truth. “ II a ete
bien servi par son genie,” says the eloquent and
judicious historian of astronomy; “ 1’inspira-
tion de cette faculte divine lui a fait appercevoir
des determinations qui n’etoient pas encore
accessibles; soit qu’il eut des preuves qu’il a
supprimees, soit qu’il eut dans Vesprit une sorte
tfestime, une espece de balance pour apprecier cer-
taines verites, enpesant les verites prochaines, et
jugeant les unes par les autres.” *
It was reserved for a more advanced condi¬
tion of the new analysis to give to the solution
of this problem all the accuracy of which it is
susceptible. It is a part, and a distinguishing
part, of the glory of this system, that it was sus¬
ceptible of more perfection than it received from
the hands of the author; and that the century
and a half which has nearly elapsed since the
first discovery of it has been continually adding
to its perfection. This character belongs to a
system which has truth and nature for its basis,
and had not been exhibited in any of the phy¬
sical theories that had yet appeared in the world.
1 Princip. lib. iii. prop. 20.
e Bailly, Histoire de 1'Astronomie Moderne, tome II. livre xii. sect. 28.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
563
The doctrines of Plato and Aristotle were
never more perfect than when they came from
the hands of their respective authors ; and a le¬
gion of commentators, with all their efforts, did
nothing hut run round perpetually in the same
circle. Even Descartes, though he had recourse
to physical principles, and tried to fix his sys¬
tem on a firmer basis than the mere abstractions
of the mind, left behind him a work which not
only could not be improved, but was such, that
every addition attempted to be made destroyed
the equilibrium of the mass, and pulled away
the part to which it was intended that it should
be attached. The philosophy of Newton has
proved susceptible of continual improvement;
its theories have explained facts quite unknown
to the author of it; and the exertions of La¬
grange and Laplace, at the distance of a hun¬
dred years, have perfected a work which it was
not for any of the human race to begin and to
complete.
Newton next turned his attention to the phe¬
nomena of the Tides, the dependence of which
on the moon, and in part also on the sun, was
sufficiently obvious even from common observa¬
tion. That the moon is the prime ruler of the
tide, is evident from the fact, that the high-
water, at any given place, occurs always nearly
at the moment when the moon is on the same
meridian, and that the retardation of the tide
from day to day is the same with the retarda¬
tion of the moon in her diurnal revolution. That
the sun is also concerned in the production of
the tides is evident from this, that the highest
tides happen when the sun, the moon, and the
earth are all three in the same straight line;
and that the lowest, or neap tides, happen when
the lines drawn from the sun and moon to the
earth make right angles with one another. The
eye of Newton, accustomed to generalize and to
penetrate beyond the surface of things, saw that
the waters of the sea revolving with the earth
are nearly in the condition of a satellite revolv¬
ing about its primary, and are liable to the
same kind of disturbance from the attraction of
a third body. The fact in the history of the
tides which seems most difficult to be explained,
received, on this supposition, a very easy solu¬
tion. It is known that high-water always takes
place in the hemisphere where the moon is, and
in the opposite hemisphere where the moon is
not, nearly at the same time. This seems, at
first sight, very unlike an effect of the moon’s
attraction; for, though the water in the hemi¬
sphere where the moon is, and which therefore
is nearest the moon, may be drawn up toward
that body, the same ought not to happen in the
opposite hemisphere, where the earth’s surface
is most distant from the moon. But if the ac¬
tion of the moon disturb the equilibrium of the
ocean, just as the action of one planet disturbs
the motion of a satellite moving round another,
it is exactly what might be expected. It had
been shown that the moon, in conjunction with
the sun, has her gravitation to the earth dimi¬
nished, and when in opposition to the sun has it
diminished very nearly by the same quantity.
The reason is, that at the conjunction, or the new
moon, the moon is drawn to the sun more than
the earth is; and that, at the opposition, or full
moon, the earth is drawn toward the sun more
than the moon nearly by the same quantity: the
relative motion of the two bodies is therefore
affected the same way in both cases, and the
gravity of the moon to the earth, or her ten¬
dency to descend toward it, is in both cases less¬
ened.
It is plain that the action of the moon on the
waters of the ocean must be regulated by the
same principle. In the hemisphere where the
moon is, the water is more drawn toward the
moon than the mass of the earth is, and its gra¬
vity being lessened, the columns toward the
middle of the hemisphere lengthen, in conse¬
quence of the pressure of the columns which are
at a distance from the middle point, of which
the weight is less diminished, and toward the
horizon must even be increased. In the oppo¬
site hemisphere, again, the mass of the earth is
more drawn to the moon than the waters of that
hemisphere, and their relative tendencies are
changed in the same direction, and nearly by the
same quantity. If the action of the moon on
all the parts of the earth, both sea and land,
were the same, no tide whatever would be pro¬
duced.
Thus, the same analysis of the force of gravi¬
ty which explained the inequalities of the moon,
564
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
were shown by Newton to explain those ine¬
qualities in the elevation of the waters of the
ocean to which we give the name of tides. On
the principle also explained in this analysis
it is that the attraction of the sun and moon
conspire to elevate the waters of the ocean, whe¬
ther these luminaries be in opposition or con¬
junction. In both cases the solar and lunar tides
are added together, and the tide actually observ¬
ed is their sum. At the quadratures, or the first
and third quarters, these two sides are opposed
to one another, the high water of the lunar tide
coinciding with the low water of the solar, and
conversely, so that the tide actually observed is
the ditference of the two.
The other phenomena of the tides were ex¬
plained in a manner no less satisfactory; and it
only remained to inquire, whether the quantity
of the solar and lunar forces were adequate to
the effect thus ascribed to them. The lunar
force there were yet no data for measuring; but
a measure of the solar force, as it acts on the
moon, had been obtained, and it had been shown
that in its mean quantity it amounted to of
the force which retains the moon in her orbit.
This last is 53*53 of the force of gravity at the
earth’s surface; and, therefore, the force with
which the sun disturbs the moon’s motion is
its X 3 3*5 5 °f gravity at the earth’s surface.
This is the solar disturbing force on the moon
when distant sixty semidiameters from the
earth’s centre; hut on a body only one semidia¬
meter distant from that centre, that is, on the
water of the ocean, the disturbing force would
he sixty times less, and thus is found to he no
more than 35555305 °f gravity at the earth’s
surface.
Now, this being the mean force of the sun,
is that by which he acts on the waters, 90 de¬
grees distant from the point to which he is ver¬
tical, where it is added to the force of gravity,
and tends to increase the weight and lower the
level of the waters. At the point where the
sun is vertical, the force to raise the water is
about double of this ; and, therefore, the whole
force tending to raise the level of the high
above that of the low water is three times the
preceding, or about the 52315535 of gravity.
Small as this force is, when it is applied to
every particle of the ocean, it is capable of pro¬
ducing a sensible effect. The manner in which
Newton estimates this effect can only he con¬
sidered as affording an approximation to the
truth. In treating of the figure of the earth,
he had shown that the centrifugal force, amount¬
ing to 3I3 of gravity, was able to raise the
level of the ocean more than seventeen miles,
or, more exactly, 85,472 French feet. Hence,
making the effect proportional to the forces, the
elevation of the waters produced by the solar
force will come out 1*92 foot.
But, from the comparison of the neap and
spring tides, that is, of the difference and the
sum of the lunar and solar forces, it appears
that the force of the moon is to that of the sun
as 4*48 to 1. As the solar force raises the tide
1 *92 foot, the lunar will raise it S’GS feet; so
that the two together will produce a tide of 10^
French feet,1 which agrees not ill with what is
observed in the open sea, at a distance from
land.
The calculus of Newton stopped not here.
From the force that the moon exerts on the
waters of the ocean, he found the quantity of
matter in the moon to that in the earth as 1 to
39*78, or, in round numbers, as 1 to 40. He
also found the density of the moon to the den¬
sity of the earth as 11 to 9.
Subsequent investigations, as we shall have
occasion to remark, have shown that much was
yet wanting to a complete theory of the tides;
and that even after Maclaurin, Bernoulli, and
Euler2 had added their efforts to those of New¬
ton, there remained enough to give full employ¬
ment to the calculus of Laplace. As an ori¬
ginal deduction, and as a first approximation,
that of which I have now given an account
will he for ever memorable.
The motion of Comets yet remained to be
discussed. They had only lately been acknow-
1 Newtoni Princip. lib. iii. prop. 3G, 37.
2 See the solutions of these three mathematicians in the Commentary of Le Seur and Jacquier on the third book of the
Principia.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
565
ledged to belong to the heavens, and to he
placed beyond the region of the earth’s atmo¬
sphere ; but with regard to their motion, astro¬
nomers were not agreed. Kepler believed them
to move in straight lines; Cassini thought they
moved in the planes of great circles, but with
little curvature. Hevelius had come much
nearer the truth: he had shown the curvature
of their paths to be different in different parts,
and to be greatest when they were nearest
the sun; and a parabola having its vertex in
that point seemed to him to be the line in
which the comet moved. Newton, convinced
of the universality of the principle of gra¬
vitation, had no doubt that the orbit of the
comet must be a conic section, having the sun
in one of its foci, and might either be an ellipse,
a parabola, or even an hyperbola, according to
the relation between the force of projection and
the force tending to the centre. As the eccen¬
tricity of the orbit on every supposition must be
great, the portion of it that fell within our view
could not differ much from a parabola; a cir¬
cumstance which rendered the calculation of the
comet’s place, when the position of the orbit
was once ascertained, more easy than in the case
of the planets. Thus far theory proceeded; and
observation must then determine with what de¬
gree of accuracy this theory represented the
phenomena. From three observations of the
comet the position of the orbit could be deter¬
mined, though the geometric problem was one
of great difficulty. Newton gave a solution of
it; and it was by this that his theory was to be
brought to the test of experiment. If the orbit
thus determined was not the true one, the places
of the comet calculated on the supposition that
it was, and that it described equal areas in equal
times about the sun, could not agree with the
places actually observed. Newton showed, by
the example of the remarkable comet then vi¬
sible, (1680) that this agreement was as great
as could reasonably be expected; thus adding
another proof to the number of those already
brought to support the principle of universal
gravitation. The comets descend into our sys¬
tem from all different quarters in the heavens,
and therefore the proofs that they afforded went
to show, that the action of gravity was confined
to no particular region of the heavens.
Thus far Newton proceeded in ascertaining
the existence, and in tracing the effects, of the
principle of gravitation, and had done so with a
success of which there had been no instance in
the history of human knowledge. At the same
time that it was the most successful, it was the
most difficult research that had yet been under¬
taken. The reasonings upward from the facts
to the general principle, and again down from
that principle to its effects, both required the
application of a mathematical analysis which
was but newly invented; and Newton had not
only the difficulties of the investigation to en¬
counter, but the instrument to invent, without
which the investigation could not have been
conducted. Every one who considers all this
will readily join in the sentiment with which
Bailly closes a eulogy as just as it is eloquent:
“ Si, comme Platon Va pense, il existoit dans la na¬
ture une kchelle d’etres et de substances intelligentes
jusqu’d VEire Supreme, Vespece humaine, de¬
fendant ses droits, await une foule de grands
homines d presenter ; mais Newton, suivi de ses
verites pures, montreroit le plus haul degre de
farce de V esprit humain, et suffiroit seid pour lui
assignor sa vraie place.”1
Though the creative power of genius was never
more clearly evinced than in the discoveries of
this great philosopher, yet the influence of cir¬
cumstances, always extensive and irresistible in
human affairs, can readily be traced. The con¬
dition of knowledge at the time when Newton
appeared was favourable to great exertions; it
was a moment when things might bo said to be
prepared for a revolution in the mathematical
and physical sciences. The genius of Copernicus
had unfolded the true system of the world; and
Galileo had shown its excellence, and established
it by arguments, the force of which were gene¬
rally acknowledged. Kepler had done still more,
having, by an admirable effort of generalization,
reduced the facts concerning the planetary mo¬
tions to three general laws. Cassini’s observa¬
tions had also extended the third of these laws
1 Histoire de I'Astwiiomis Moderne., tome IX. livre xii. sect. 49.
566
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to the satellites of Jupiter, showing that the
squares of their periodic times were as the cubes
of their distances from the centre of the body
round which they revolved. The imaginary ap¬
paratus of cycles and epicycles,—the immobility
of the earth,—the supposed essential distinction
between celestial and terrestrial substances,
those insuperable obstacles to real knowledge,
which the prejudice of the ancients had establish¬
ed as physical truths, were entirely removed;
and Bacon had taught the true laws of philoso¬
phizing, and pointed out the genuine method of
extracting knowledge from experiment and ob¬
servation. The leading principles of mechanics
were established; and it was no unimportant
circumstance, that the Vortices of Descartes had
exhausted one of the sources of error, most se¬
ducing on account of its simplicity.
All this had been done when the genius of
Newton arose upon the earth. Never till now
had there been set before any of the human race
so brilliant a career to run, or so noble a prize
to be obtained. In the progress of knowledge,
a moment had arrived more favourable to the de¬
velopment of talent than any other, either later
or earlier, and in which it might produce the
greatest possible effect. But, let it not be sup¬
posed, while I thus admit the influence of ex¬
ternal circumstances on the exertions of intellec¬
tual power, that I am lessening the merit of this
last, or taking any thing from the admiration
that is due to it. I am, in truth, only distin¬
guishing between what it is possible and what
it is impossible for the human mind to effect.
With all the aid that circumstances could give,
it required the highest degree of intellectual
power to accomplish what Newton performed.
We have here a memorable, perhaps a singu¬
lar instance, of the highest degree of intellec¬
tual power, united to the most favourable con¬
dition of things for its exertion. Though New¬
ton’s situation was more favourable than that
of the men of science who had gone before
him, it was not more so than that of those men
who pursued the same objects at the same time
with himself, placed in a situation equally fa¬
vourable.
When one considers the splendour of New¬
ton’s discoveries, the beauty, the simplicity, and
grandeur of the system they unfolded, and the
demonstrative evidence by which that svstem
was supported, one could hardly doubt that, to
he received, it required only to he made known,
and that the establishment of the Newtonian
philosophy all over Europe would very quickly
have followed the publication of it. In drawing
this conclusion, however, we should make much
too small an allowance for the influence of re¬
ceived opinion, and the resistance that mere ha¬
bit is able, for a time, to oppose to the strongest
evidence. The Cartesian system of vortices had
many followers in all the countries of Europe,
and particularly in France. In the universities
of England, though the Aristotelian Physics had
made an obstinate resistance, they had been sup¬
planted by the Cartesian, which became firmly
established about the time when their founda¬
tion began to be sapped by the general progress
of science, and particularly by the discoveries
of Newton. For more than thirty years after
the publication of those discoveries, the system
of vortices kept its ground; and a translation
from the French into Latin of the Physics of
Rohault, a work entirely Cartesian, continued
at Cambridge to be the text for philosophical in¬
struction. About the year 1718, a new and
more elegant translation of the same book was
published by Dr Samuel Clarke, with the addi¬
tion of notes, in which that profound and inge¬
nious writer explained the views of Newton on
the principal objects of discussion; so that the
notes contained virtually a refutation of the text:
they did so, however, only virtually, all appear¬
ance of argument and controversy being care¬
fully avoided. Whether this escaped the notice
of the learned Doctors or not, is uncertain; but
the new translation, from its better Latinity,
and the name of the editor, was readily admit¬
ted to all the academical honours which the old
one had enjoyed. Thus, the stratagem of Dr
Clarke completely succeeded; the tutor might
prelect from the text, but the pupil would some¬
times look into the notes; and error is never so
sure of being exposed as when the truth is placed
close to it, side by side, without any thing to
alarm prejudice, or awaken from its lethargy
the dread of innovation. Thus, therefore, the
Newtonian philosophy first entered the LTniver-
DISSERTATION THIRD.
567
sity of Cambridge under the protection of the
Cartesian.1
If such were the obstacles to its progress that
the new philosophy experienced in a country
that was proud of having given birth to its
author, we must expect it to advance very slow¬
ly indeed among foreign nations. In France,
we find the first astronomers and mathemati¬
cians, such men as Cassini and Maraldi, quite un¬
acquainted with it, and employed in calculating
the paths of the comets they were observing, on
hypotheses the most unfounded and imaginary;
long after Halley, following the principles of
Newton, had computed tables from which the
motions of all the comets that ever had appear¬
ed, or ever could appear, might be easily deduc¬
ed. Fontenelle, with great talents and enlarged
views, and, as one may say, officially informed
of the progress of science all over Europe, con¬
tinued a Cartesian to the end of Ids days.
Mairan in his youth was a zealous defender of
the vortices, though he became afterwards one
of the most strenuous supporters of the doctrine
of gravitation.
A Memoir of the Chevalier Louville, among
those of the Academy of Sciences for 1720, is
the first in that collection, and, I believe, the
first published in France, where the elliptic mo¬
tion of the planets is supposed to be produced by
the combination of two forces, one projectile and
the other centripetal. Maupertuis soon after
went much farther : in his elegant and philoso¬
phic treatise, Figure des Astres, published about
1730, he not only admitted the existence of at¬
traction as a fact, but even defended it, when
considered as an universal property of body,
against the reproach of being a metaphysical ab¬
surdity. These were considerable advances, but
they were made slowly; and it was true, as Vol¬
taire afterwards remarked, that though the au¬
thor of the Principia survived the publication
of that great work nearly forty years, he had
not, at the time of his death, twenty followers
out of England.
We should do wrong, however, to attribute
this slow conversion of the philosophic world
entirely to prejudice, inertness, or apathy. The
evidence of the Newtonian philosophy was of a
nature to require time in order to make an im¬
pression. It implied an application of mathe¬
matical reasoning which was often difficult: the
doctrine of prime and ultimate ratios was new
to most readers, and could be familiar only to
those who had studied the infinitesimal analysis.
The principle of gravitation itself was con¬
sidered as difficult to be admitted. When pre¬
sented indeed as a mere fact, like the weight of
bodies at the earth’s surface, or their tendency
to fall to the ground, it was free from objection ;
and it was in this light only that Newton wish¬
ed it to be considered.2 But though this appears
to be the sound and philosophical view of the
subject, there has always appeared a strong de¬
sire in those who speculated concerning gravita¬
tion to go farther, and to inquire into the cause
of what, as a mere fact, they were sufficiently
disposed to admit. If you said that you had no
explanation to give, and were only desirous of
having the fact admitted, they alleged that
this was an unsatisfactory proceeding,—that it
was admitting the doctrine of occult causes,—that
it amounted to the assertion, that bodies acted
in places where they were not,—a proposition
that, metaphysically considered, was undoubted-
1 The Universities of St Andrews and Edinburgh were, I believe, the first in Britain where the Newtonian philosophy
was made the subject of the academical prelections. For this distinction they are indebted to James and David Gregory,
the first in some respects the rival, but both the friends of Newton. Whiston bewails in the anguish of his heart the dif¬
ference in this respect between those universities and his own. David Gregory taught in Edinburgh for several years
prior to 1690, when he removed to Oxford ; and Whiston says, “ He had already caused several of his scholars to keep
acts, as we call them, upon several branches of the Newtonian philosophy, while we at Cambridge (poor wretches) were ig-
nominiously studying the fictitious hypotheses of the Cartesian.” (Whiston’s Memoirs of Ms own Life.) I do not, how¬
ever, mean to say, that from this date the Cartesian philosophy was expelled from those universities. The Physics of R,o-
hault were still in use as a text, at least occasionally, to a much later period than this; and a great deal, no doubt, depend¬
ed on the character of the individual professors. Keill introduced the Newtonian philosophy in his lectures at Oxford in
1697; but the instructions of the tutors, which constitute the real and efficient system of the university, were not cast in
that mould till long afterwards. The publication of S’Gravesande’s Elements proves that the Newtonian philosophy was
taught in the Dutch universities before the date of 1720.
2 “ Vocem uttractionis hie generaliter nsurpo pro corporum conatu quocunque accedendi ad invicem ; give conatusiste fat ab actione
corporum, vel se mutuo petentium, vet per spiritas emissos se invicem agitantium ; sive is ab actione atfhcris, ant aeris, mediive cujuscunque,
sen corpora sen incorporei, oriatur, corpora innatantia in se invicem utcunque impellentis." (Principia Math. lib. i. schol. ad finem
prop. 69.)
568
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ly absurd. The desire to explain gravitation is
indeed so natural, that Newton himself felt its
force, and has thrown out, at the end of his
Optics, some curious conjectures concerning this
general affection of body, and the nature of that
elastic ether to which he thought that it was
perhaps to he ascribed. “ Is not this medium
(the ether) much rarer within the dense bodies
of the sun, stars, and planets, than in the empty
celestial spaces between them ? And, in passing
from them to great distances, does it not grow
denser and denser perpetually, and thereby cause
the gravity of those great bodies to one another,
every body endeavouring to go from the denser
parts of the medium to the rarer P”1
Notwithstanding the highest respect for the
author of these conjectures, I cannot find any
thing like a satisfactory explanation of gravity
in the existence of this elastic ether. It is very
true that an elastic fluid, of which the density
followed the inverse ratio of the distance from a
given point, would urge the bodies immersed in
it, and impervious to it, toward that point with
forces inversely as the squares of the distances
from it; but what could maintain an elastic
fluid in this condition, or with its density vary¬
ing according to this law, is a thing as inexpli¬
cable as the gravity which it was meant to ex¬
plain. The nature of an elastic fluid must be,
in the absence of all inequality of pressure, to
become everywhere of the same density. If the
causes that produce so marked and so general a
deviation from this rule be not assigned, we can
only be said to have substituted one difficulty for
another.
A different view of the matter was taken by
some of the disciples and friends of Newton,
but which certainly did not lead to any thing
more satisfactory. That philosopher himself
had always expressed his decided opinion that
gravity could not be considered as a property
of matter;2 but Mr Cotes, in the preface to
the second edition of the Principia, maintains
that gravity is a property which we have the
same right to ascribe to matter, that we have to
ascribe to it extension, impenetrability, or any
other property. This is said to have been in¬
serted without the knowledge of Newton,—a
freedom which it is difficult to conceive that any
man could use with the author of the Principia.
However that be, it is certain that these diffi¬
culties have been always felt, and had their
share in retarding the progress of the philosophy
to which they seemed to be inseparably attached.
There were other arguments of a less abstruse
nature, and more immediately connected with
experiment, which, for a time, resisted the pro¬
gress of the Newtonian philosophy, though they
contributed, in the end, very materially to its
advancement. Nothing, indeed, is so hostile to
the interests of truth, as facts inaccurately ob¬
served ; of which we have a remarkable example
in the measurement of an arch of the meridian
across France, from Amiens to Perpignan,
though so large as to comprehend about seven
degrees, and though executed by Cassini, one of
the first astronomers in Europe. According to
that measurement, the degrees seemed to dimi¬
nish on going from south to north, each being
less by about an 800th part than that which im¬
mediately preceded it toward the south. From
this result, which is entirely erroneous, the con¬
clusion first deduced was correct, the error in
the reasoning, by a very singular coincidence,
1 Optics, query 21, at the end of the third book.
2 The passages quoted sufficiently prove that Newton did not consider gravity as a property inherent in matter. The
following passage in one of his letters to Dr Bentley is still more explicit: “ It is inconceivable that inanimate brute
matter should, without the mediation of something else, which is not material, operate upon and affect other matter with¬
out mutual contact; as it must do, if gravitation, in the sense of Epicurus, be essential and inherent in it...That gravity
should be innate, inherent, and essential to matter, so that one body may act upon another at a distance through a vacuum,
without the mediation of any thing else, by and through which their action and force may be conveyed from one to another,
is to me so great an absurdity, that I believe no man who has in philosophical matters a competent faculty of thinking
can ever fall into it.” (Newtoni Opera, tom. IV. p. 438. Horsley’s edit.) On this passage I cannot help remarking, that it
is not quite clear in what manner the interposition of a material substance can convey the action of distant bodies to one
another. In the case of percussion or pressure, this is indeed very intelligible, but it is by no means so in the case of at¬
traction. If two particles of matter, at opposite extremities of the diameter of the earth, attract one another, this effect is
just as little intelligible, and the modus agendi is just as mysterious, on the supposition that the whole globe of the earth is
interposed, as on that of nothing whatever being interposed, or of a complete vacuum existing between them. It is not
enough that each particle attracts that in contact with it; it must attract the particles that are distant, and the interven¬
tion of particles between them does not render this at all more intelligible.
DISSERTATION THIRD.
569
having corrected the error in the data from
which it was deduced. Fontenelle argued that,
as the degrees diminished in length on going
toward the poles, the meridian must he less than
the circumference of the equator, and the earth
of course swelled out in the plane of that circle,
agreeably to the facts that had been observed
concerning the retardation of the pendulum
when carried to the south. This, however,
was the direct contrary of the conclusion which
ought to have been drawn, as was soon per¬
ceived by Cassini and by Fontenelle himself.
The degrees growing less as they approached
the pole, was an indication of the curvature
growing greater, or of the longer axis of the
meridian being the line that passed through the
poles, and that coincided with the axis of the
earth. The figure of the earth must, therefore,
be that of an oblong spheroid, or one formed by
the revolution of an ellipsis about its longer
axis. This conclusion seemed to be strengthened
by the prolongation of the meridian from Amiens
northward to Dunkirk in 1713, as the same di¬
minution was observed; the medium length of
the degree between Paris and Dunkirk being
56970 toises, no less than 137 less than the mean
of the degrees toward the south.1 * All this
seemed quite inconsistent with the observations
on the pendulum, as well as with the conclusions
which Newton had deduced from the theory of
gravity. The Academy of Sciences was thus
greatly perplexed, and uncertain to what side
to incline. In these circumstances, J. Cassini,
whose errors were the cause of all the difficulty,
had the merit of suggesting the only means by
which the question concerning the figure of the
earth was likely to receive a satisfactory solu¬
tion,—the measurement of two degrees, the one
under the equator, and the other as near to the
pole as the nature of the thing would admit.
But it was not till considerably beyond. the
limits of the period of which I am now treat¬
ing, that these measures were executed, and
that the increase of the degrees toward the
poles, or the oblateness of the earth’s figure,
was completely ascertained. Cassini, on resum¬
ing his own operations, discovered, and candid¬
ly acknowledged, the errors in his first mea¬
surement; and thus the objections which had
arisen in this quarter against the theory of gra¬
vity became irresistible arguments in its favour.
This subject will occupy much of our attention
in the history of the second period, till which
the establishment of the Newtonian philosophy
on the Continent cannot be said to have been
accomplished.
In addition to these discoveries in physical
astronomy, this period affords several on the
descriptive parts of the science, of which, how-
ever, I can only mention one, as far too impor¬
tant to be passed over in the most general out¬
line. It regards the apparent motion in the
fixed stars, known by the name of the Aberra¬
tion, and is the discovery of Dr Bradley, one of
the most distinguished astronomers of whom
England has to boast. Bradley and his friend
Molyneux, in the end of the year 1725,8 were
occupied in searching for the parallax of the
fixed stars by means of a zenith sector, con¬
structed by Graham, the most skilful instru¬
ment maker of that period. The sector was
erected at Kew; it was of great radius, and
furnished with a telescope twenty-four feet in
length, with which they proposed to observe
the transits of stars near the zenith, according
to a method that was first suggested by Hooke,
and pursued by him so far as to induce him to
think that he had actually discovered the paral¬
lax of y Draconis, the bright star in the head of
the dragon, on which he made his observations.
They began their observations of the transits of
the same star on the 3d of December, when the
distance from the zenith at which it passed was
carefully marked. By the observations of the
subsequent days the star seemed to be moving
to the south; and about the beginning of March
in the following year, it had got 20" to the
south, and was then nearly stationary. In the
beginning of June it had come back to the same
situation where it was first observed, and from
thence it continued its motion northward till
September, when it was about 20" north of the
point where it was first seen, its whole change
of declination having amounted to 40".
1 Mimoires de VAcadtmie des Sciences, 1718, p. 245.
DISS. III. PART II.
2 Phil. Trans, vol. XXXY. p. 697-
preliminary dissertations.
570
Tins motion occasioned a good deal of sur¬
prise to tlie two observers, as it lay the contrary
way to what it would have done if it had pro¬
ceeded from the parallax of the star. The re¬
petition of the observations, however, confix med
their accuracy; and they were afterwards pux-
sued by Dr Bradley, with another sector con-
structed also hy Graham, of a less xadius, hut
still of one sufficiently great to measure a star’s
zenith distance to half a second. It embraced a
larger arch, and admitted of the observations
being extended to stars that passed at a more
considerable distance from the zenith.
Even with this addition the observations did
not put Biadley in possession of the complete
fact, as they only gave the motion of each star
in declination, without giving information about
what change might he produced in its right as¬
cension.
Had the whole fact, that is, the motion in
right ascension as well as in declination, been
given from observation, it could not have been
long before the cause was discovered. With
such information, however, as Dr Bradley had,
that discovery is certainly to he regarded as a
great effort of sagacity. He has not told us the
steps hy which he was led to it; only we see
that, hy the method of exclusion, he had been
careful to narrow the field of hypothesis, and
had assured himself that the phenomenon was
not px*oduced hy any nutation of the earth s
axis,—by any change in the direction of the
plumb-line, or hy refraction of any kind. All
these causes being i*ejected, it occui-red to him
that the appearances might arise from the pro¬
gressive motion of light combined with the mo¬
tion of the earth in its orbit. He reasoned some¬
what in this manner. If the earth were at rest,
it is plain that a telescope, to admit a i’ay of
light coming from a star to pass along its axis,
must be directed to the star itself. But, if the
earth, and of course the telescope, he in motion,
it must he inclined forward, so as to he in the
diagonal of a parallelogram, the sides of which
represent the motion of the earth and the mo¬
tion of light; or in the direction of those mo¬
tions, and in the x*atio of their velocities. It is
with the telescope just as with the vane at the
mast-head of a ship: when the ship is at anchor,
the vane takes exactly the direction of the wind;
when the ship is under weigh, it places itself in
the diagonal of a parallelogram, of which one
side represents the velocity of the ship, and the
other the velocity of the wind. If, instead of
the vane, we conceive a hollow tube, movable
in the same manner, the case will become more
exactly parallel to that of the telescope. The
tube will take such a position that the wind
may blow through it without striking against the
sides, and its axis will then be the diagonal of
the parallelogram just referred to.
The telescope, therefore, through which a star
is viewed, and hy the axis of which its position
star is determined, must make an angle with the
straight line drawn to the star, except when the
earth moves directly upon the star, or directly
from it. Hence it follows, that if the star be
in the pole of the ecliptic, the telescope must be
pointed forward, in the direction of the earth’s
motion, always by the same angle; so that the
star would be seen out of its true place hy that
angle, and would appear to describe a circle
round the pole of the ecliptic, the radius of
which subtended, at the earth, an angle, of
which the sine is to unity as the velocity of the
earth to the velocity of light. If the star he
anywhere between the plane of the ecliptic and
the pole, its apparent path will he an ellipse,
the longer axis of which is the same with the
diameter of the former circle, and the shorter
equal to the same quantity, multiplied by the
sine of the star’s latitude. If the star be in
the plane of the ecliptic, this shorter axis
vanishes, and the apparent path of the star
is a straight line, equal to the axis just men¬
tioned.
Bradley saw that Roemer’s obseiwation con¬
cerning the time that light takes to go from the
sun to the earth gave a ready expression for the
velocity of light compared with that of the
earth. The proportion, however, which he as¬
sumed as best suited to his observations was
somewhat different; it was that of 10313 to 1,
which made the radius of the circle of aberra¬
tion 20", and the transverse axis of the ellipse
in every case, or the whole change of position,
40". It was the shorter axis which Bradley
had actually obseiwed in the case of 7 Draconis,
DISSERTATION THIRD.
571
that star being very near the solstitial colure,
so that its changes of declination and of latitude
are almost the same. In order to show the
truth of his theory, he computed the aberration
of different stars, and, on comparing the results
with his observations, the coincidence appeared
almost perfect, so that no doubt remained con¬
cerning the truth of the principle on which he
had founded his calculations. He did not ex¬
plain the rules themselves: Clairaut published
the first investigation of these in the Memoirs
of the Academy of Sciences for 1737. Simpson
also gave a demonstration of them in his Essays,
published in 1740.
It has been remarked, that the velocity of
light, as assumed by Bradley, did not exactly
agree with that which Roemer had assigned;
supposing the total amount of the aberration
40£", it gave the time that light takes to come
from the sun to the eartb 8# 13"; but it is pro¬
per to add, that since the time of this astrono¬
mer, the velocity of light deduced from the
eclipses of Jupiter’s satellites has been found
exactly tbe same.
It is remarkable that the phenomenon thus
discovered by Bradley and Molyneux, when in
search of the parallax of the fixed stars, is in
reality as convincing a proof of the earth’s mo¬
tion in its orbit as the discovery of that paral¬
lax would have been. It seems, indeed, as sa¬
tisfactory as any evidence that can be desired.
One only regrets, in reflecting on this discovery,
that the phenomenon of the aberration was not
foreseen, and that, after being predicted from
theory, it had been ascertained from observa¬
tion. As the matter stands, however, the dis¬
covery both of the fact and the theory is highly
creditable to its author.
In the imperfect outline which I have now
sketched of one of the most interesting periods
in the history of human knowledge, much has
been omitted, and many great characters passed
over, lost, as it were, in the splendour of the
two great luminaries which marked this epocha.
Newton and Leibnitz are so distinguished from
the rest even of the scientific world, that we can
only compare them with one another, though,
in fact, no two intellectual characters, who both
reached the highest degree of excellence, were
ever more dissimilar.
For the variety of his genius, and the extent
of his research, Leibnitz is perhaps altogether
unrivalled. A lawyer, an historian, an antiquary,
a poet, and a philologist,—a mathematician, a
metaphysician, a theologian, and, I will add, a
geologer, he has in all these characters produced
works of great merit, and in some of them of
the highest excellence. It is rare that original
genius has so little of a peculiar direction, or is
disposed to scatter its efforts over so wide a field.
Though a man of great inventive powers, he oc¬
cupied much of his time in works of mere labour
and erudition, where there was nothing to in¬
vent, and not much of importance to discover.
Of his inventive powers as a mathematician we
have already spoken; as a metaphysician, his
acuteness and depth are universally admitted:
but metaphysics is a science in which there are
few discoveries to be made; and the man who
searches in it for novelty, is more likely to find
what is imaginary than what is real. The no¬
tion of the Monads, those unextended units, or
simple essences, of which, according to this phi¬
losopher, all things corporeal and spiritual, ma¬
terial or intellectual, are formed, will be readily
allowed to have more in it of novelty than truth.
The pre-established harmony between the body
and the mind, by which two substances inca¬
pable of acting on one another are so nicely ad¬
justed from the beginning, that their movements
for ever correspond, is a system of which no ar¬
gument can do more than prove the possibility.
And, amid all the talent and acuteness with
which these doctrines are supported, it seems to
argue some unsoundness of understanding, to have
thought that they could ever find a place among
the established principles of human knowledge.
Newton did not aim at so wide a range. For¬
tunately for himself and for the world, his ge¬
nius was more determined to a particular point,
and its efforts were more concentrated. Their
direction was to the accurate sciences, and they
572
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
soon proved equally inventive in the pure and
in the mixed mathematics. Newton knew how
to transfer the truths of abstract science to the
study of things actually existing, and, by return¬
ing in the opposite direction, to enrich the for¬
mer by ideas derived from the latter. In expe¬
rimental and inductive investigation he was as
great as in the pure mathematics, and his disco¬
veries as distinguished in the one as in the other.
In this double claim to renown, Newton stands
yet unrivalled; and though, in the pure mathe¬
matics, equals may perhaps be found, no one, I
believe, will come forward as his rival both in
that science and in the philosophy of nature.
His caution in adopting general principles, his
dislike to what was vague or obscure, his re¬
jection of all theories from which precise conclu¬
sions cannot be deduced, and his readiness to
relinquish those that depart in any degree from
the truth, are, throughout, the characters of his
philosophy, and distinguish it very essentially
from the philosophy of Leibnitz. The characters
now enumerated are most of them negative ; hut
without the principles on which they are founded,
invention can hardly he kept in the right course.
The German philosopher was not furnished with
them in the same degree as the English, and
hence his great talents have run very frequently
to waste.
It may he doubted also, whether Leibnitz’s
great metaphysical acuteness did not sometimes
mislead him in the study of nature, by inclining
him to those reasonings which proceed, or affect
to proceed, continually from the cause to the
effect. The attributes of the Deity were the
axioms of his philosophy; and he did not reflect
that this foundation, excellent in itself, lies much
too deep for a structure that is to he raised by
so feeble an architect as man; or, that an argu¬
ment, which sets out with the most profound
respect to the Supreme Being, usually termi¬
nates in the most unwarrantable presumption.
His reasonings from first causes are always in¬
genious ; but nothing can prevent the substitu¬
tion of such causes for those that are physical
and efficient, from being one of the worst and
most fatal errors in philosophy.
As an interpreter of nature, therefore, Leibnitz
stands in no comparison with Newton. His
general views in physics were vague and unsatis¬
factory ; he had no great value for inductive
reasoning; it was not the way of arriving at
truth which he was accustomed to take; and
hence, to the greatest physical discovery of that
age, and that which was established by the most
ample induction, the existence of gravity as a
fact in which all bodies agree, he was always
incredulous, because no proof of it, a priori,
could be given.
As to who benefited human knowledge the
most, no question, therefore, can arise; and if
genius is to be weighed in this balance, it is
evident which scale must preponderate. Except
in the pure mathematics, Leibnitz, with all his
talents, made no material or permanent addition
to the sciences. Newton, to equal inventions in
mathematics added the greatest discoveries in the
philosophy of nature; and, in passing through
his hands, Mechanics, Optics, and Astronomy,
were not merely improved, but renovated. No
one ever left knowledge in a state so different
from that in which he found it. Men were in¬
structed not only in new truths, but in new
methods of discovering truth ; they were made
acquainted with the great principle which con¬
nects together the most distant regions of space,
as well as the most remote periods of duration;
and which was to lead to future discoveries, far
beyond what the wisest or most sanguine could
anticipate.
END OF THE THIRD DISSERTATION.
DISSERTATION FOURTH;
EXHIBITING A GENERAL VIEW
OF THE
PROGRESS OF MATHEMATICAL AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE,
CHIEFLY
DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
By JOHN LESLIE, Esq.
PROFESSOR OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH ;
CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE ROYAL INSTITUTE OF FRANCE.
DISSERTATION FOURTH
INTRODUCTION.
The progress of Mathematical and Physical
Science during the brilliant period which closed
with Newton and Leibnitz, has been treated with
fidelity and sustained interest by the hand of a
master, whose calm judgment weighed impar¬
tially the different claims of discovery, whose
powers of illustration could expand the fine re¬
sults, and whose luminous eloquence was com¬
mensurate with the dignity of the subject. To
resume the Discourse, and continue it through
the course of the eighteenth century, is a task
of increasing difficulty, which would require vi¬
gorous resolution, patient research, and skilful
selection. The materials are ample, indeed, but
they are likewise multifarious, and often lie scat¬
tered among the countless volumes of the Trans¬
actions of Learned Societies. The picture to
be delineated is not less imposing, and has far
greater extent and variety of outline, while it
exhibits more elaboration in its details.
Scientific discovery had, during this latter
period, continued to advance with accelerated
progression; and the triumphs of penetrating
ingenuity, if not so transcendant, were equally
conspicuous, more diversified, and were spread
over a much wider surface. Observation was di¬
rected with greater skill and attention, and the
delicate art of experimenting better understood,
and more generally practised. The investiga¬
tion of some intricate phenomena called forth
the resources of a refined calculus; and this new
Geometry, the most powerful instrument ever
wielded by human genius, was then cultivated,
especially on the Continent of Europe, with en¬
thusiastic ardour and astonishing success.
Newton, the glory of our island, had no com¬
petitor save Leibnitz in mathematical invention;
but his sublime discoveries in the highest walks
of science—in Optics and Astronomy—gave him
a pre-eminence far above the most towering ri¬
val. Yet such is the slow progress of innova¬
tion, even among the learned, that, for the
space of nearly half a century, his Theory of
Light was generally slighted, and the system
of Universal Attraction treated as a mere fanci¬
ful hypothesis. The Principia, which crowned
the exertions of the creator of philosophical
science, was admired and imperfectly under-
576
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
stood by a few of his countrymen, but bad to
undergo the ordeal of a rigorous and sometimes
unfriendly examination by foreigners. Averse
from the bustle and contention of letters, be
delighted to pursue his profound researches in
perfect seclusion, and bad appeared satisfied
with registering the grand series of discoveries
in that concentrated form which best accorded
with the tone of his mighty intellect. When af¬
terwards persuaded reluctantly to publish those
brief compositions, he could not submit to the
drudgery of retracing his steps, or of expanding
his demonstrations, and bringing them nearer
the reach of his contemporaries. Newton was
nine years in possession of the Method of
Fluxions before Leibnitz struck into a similar
path ; nor did he give it to the world till an
equal time more had elapsed. The rapid mind
of the German philosopher had framed bis Cal¬
culus with less regard to elegance and strict lo¬
gic, but clothed it in a simpler and more defi¬
nite notation or algorithm, which, from its apt¬
ness to improvement, has in the sequel confer¬
red a decided superiority. The diversified oc¬
cupations of Leibnitz allowed him to work only
at intervals on his great invention ; but he found
most able and zealous coadjutors in the two
Bernoullis, who laboured in promoting the new
calculus with uncommon ingenuity, indefati¬
gable activity, and even a contentious emula¬
tion. The Higher Analysis had by such exer¬
tions already acquired greater extension on the
Continent than the Method of Fluxions at its
first publication in England; and our mathema¬
ticians were hence unprepared to follow many
of the abstruse and abbreviated demonstrations
inserted in the Principia. 1 lie Differential and
Integral Calculus having thus made such rapid
advances abroad, continued for a long time af¬
terwards to maintain a preponderating ascend¬
ancy. The marks of the Fluxionary Method,
consisting in mere dots, and therefore not sus¬
ceptible of variation or improvement, sensibly
though indirectly checked the tide of invention
in England ; and perhaps the splendour of New¬
ton’s fame had some influence for a season in
overdazzling the lustre of native talent. As a
parallel instance, it may be remarked that no¬
thing pre-eminent in science was produced by
the French, for half a century after the epoch
of Descartes.
The immediate successors of Newton were
still imperfectly prepared to rise to the sublimi¬
ty of their great master, or to scan the vast su¬
perstructure which his genius had "reared. Yet
was more scientific invention displayed by them
than had appeared at any former period in Eng¬
land; and nothing but the comparison with
transcendant powers of intellect could tend to
depress their just merits. By their zealous ef¬
forts the System of the Universe was consolidat¬
ed, and its outworks enlarged. Cotes, who was
snatched away at an early age, discovered the
beautiful theorems of Trinomial Factors, and
multiplied the resources of integration by skil¬
ful applications of Logarithms and Circular Arcs.
Brook Taylor laid the foundation of the Method
of Increments or Finite Differences, solved some
of the most intricate problems in Dynamics;
and in this arduous department he successfully
entered the lists with the celebrated Bernoullis.
De Moivre and Stirling particularly distinguish¬
ed themselves, by extending and applying the
Doctrine of Series, a most important branch of
the Fluxionary Calculus. In the great astro¬
nomical discoveries, England still led the way.
Bradley, who has been justly styled the modern
Hipparchus, combined the habits of accurate
observation with the talent of acute discernment
and felicitous invention. His analysis of the
Aberration of Light furnished the first incon¬
trovertible proof of our Solar System; while his
fine detection of the Nutation of the Earth s
Axis confirmed the Theory of Universal At¬
traction. Simpson, but above all Maclaurin,
the elegant expounder of the Principia, likewise
materially contributed, by their various mathe¬
matical researches, to the advancement of the
science of Physical Astronomy. Nor was Eng¬
land less indebted to the ingenuity and exqui¬
site skill of her artists, who now constructed in¬
struments of a delicacy far surpassing any for¬
mer attempts, and during the last century fm-
nished for the most part the Observatories on
the Continent.
Though France had for a very long time pro¬
duced nothing in science of much oi’iginality or
importance, tlie munificence of her government
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
577
continued to encourage philosophical pursuits;
and now, by directing the mensuration of the
Meridian at the most distant points,—within
the Artie Circle, and under the Equator,—it pro¬
cured accurate data for determining the true
figure of our Planet. It was the more precise
measure of a degree of latitude ascertained by
Picard, that had at last enabled Newton to sub¬
ject to the test of calculation his grand idea of
extending the power of gravitation from the
earth’s surface, after the simplest law of de¬
crease, to the orbit of the moon. But the satis¬
faction was reserved for the successors of our
immortal chief, to see his determination of the
oblate form of the earth, arising from the mu¬
tual attraction of all its particles, modified by
the influence of centrifugal force, fully confirm¬
ed by a close investigation of the results of the
skilful and laborious observations brought home
by the French astronomers. Nothing, indeed,
contributed so much to exalt the character of
the Newtonian Philosophy on the Continent as
those scientific expeditions; while the credit of
the system of Descartes, which bears no such
scrutiny, rapidly declined. Mathematicians, in¬
vited to a rich field of discovery, were eager to
examine the Principia through all its details;
and the progress which the New Calculus had
made, provided them with instruments for this
dissection. The profound author had left in¬
deed several parts unfinished; of some of the
more difficult problems he had merely sketched
the solution ; and he had commonly supplied the
defects of his analytical procedure by the exer¬
cise of wonderful sagacity and penetration.
Maupertuis was the first mathematician of
any note that ventured publicly in France to
espouse the Newtonian Philosophy. But perhaps
no writer contributed more effectually to pro¬
mote its diffusion and popular reception than
Voltaire, whose universal talent ranged through
the sphere of human knowledge, and whose easy
and simple style gave transparency to his con¬
ceptions. The French, at length awakened from
the Cartesian dreams, and directed into the path
of inductive philosophy, again put forth their
inventive powers. The fine genius of Clairaut
and D’Alembert early soared to the highest dis¬
tinction in scientific research. Both these illus¬
trious men showed, from their infancy, the
strongest disposition for mathematical studies,
which they cultivated with the most ardent and
persevering application, and displayed in their
profound investigations all the rich and varied
stores of original invention.
Clairaut began his labours with a capital ex¬
tension of the Theory of Curve Lines. But, in
his riper years, he directed the whole force of his
ingenuity and analytical skill to explore the
depths of Physical Astronomy. He deduced
the figure of the earth strictly from the principle
of universal attraction, with the admission only
of the very simplest conditions. But not con¬
tent with mere speculation, he sought the prac¬
tical solution of that problem, and therefore
eagerly joined the Academicians who were dis¬
patched to measure a degree of latitude within
the Arctic Circle. After achieving this grand
operation, he resumed with vigour the examina¬
tion of the Newtonian System, and concentrated
his utmost exertions in resolving the arduous
problem of the three bodies, or in determining the
influence of a planet or the sun to modify the
motion and orbit of another planet or satellite.
The Integral Calculus furnishes yet no direct or
absolute solution. It became necessary to pro¬
ceed by a train of successive approximations,
simplifying and condensing the computation by
tlie judicious rejection of the small excrescences.1
But the first result was most perplexing, and
seemed to betray an evident imperfection in the
great Law of Gravitation. Not discouraged, how¬
ever, by this repulse, the persevering analyst
pushed his calculations still farther, and collect¬
ing the minor terms of the series, at last arrived
at a conclusion entirely conformable with obser¬
vation, and thus established beyond all dispute
the harmony of the Theory of Attraction.
But Clairaut did not rest satisfied with specu¬
lative conclusions, however beautiful; he sought
to embody his formulae in real numbers; and
availing himself of the aid of some expert calcu-
1 The question especially selected was the annual change of the position of the axis of the moon’s elliptical path about
the earth, occasioned by solar attraction.
DISS. IV. 4 D
578
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
lators, he soon produced a set of Lunar Tables,
much more accurate than had been yet attained.
Encouraged by such eminent success, he now
directed his inquiries to the more distant objects
of our system. The comet, Avhose return was
predicted by the sagacity of Halley, did not ap¬
pear at the time assigned, and astronomeis
began to feel uneasy at their disappointment.
From this state of inquietude they were soon
relieved by the soaring investigation of Clairaut,
who found that the disturbing influence of Jupi¬
ter and Saturn would retard for several months
the advance of the distant stranger, and com¬
puted with surprising nearness, from his imper¬
fect data, the time of the comet’s actual appear¬
ance. But excessive application and the solici¬
tations of society preyed on a languid frame,
and premature death tore away that brilliant
genius in the midst of his career of triumph and
applause.
D’Alembert, who rose to still higher celebrity,
and contributed to distinguish the character of
the age in which he lived, closely followed in
this research, though by a different path; en¬
countered similar difficulties, obtained the same
partial result, but finally arrived at a like sa¬
tisfactory conclusion. He carried his acute¬
ness and penetration into all the abstruse de¬
partments of physics, and marked his progress by
originality of conoeption. The success of this
most ingenious philosopher would have been
more complete, if he had confined his views to
the pursuits of abstract science. But he wanted
that patience to which Newton, with innate mo¬
desty, ascribed all his advantages. In discussing
the most arduous questions, D’Alembert advan¬
ced generally by new paths, and displayed great
resources and much versatility of talent. He
would seldom retouch his formulae, or seek to
mould them into simplicity and elegance, and
never submitted to the labour of reducing them
to actual application. Ambitious to excel in
literature as in science, he transferred into his
miscellaneous compositions the same strict logic
and nice discrimination which guided his analy¬
tical researches, and likewise contracted a cor¬
responding style, remarkable for the qualities of
precision and clearness, but possessingno warmth
or elevation.
The last of the three illustrious men who, by
separate roads, arrived at the same conclusions,
and thus concurred in fixing the true system of
the world, was Leonard Euler, born near Bale
in Switzerland, and educated under the Ber¬
noulli, but who, patronised by foreign courts,
passed a very long and most laborious life at
St Petersburg and Berlin. He was indisputably
the greatest analyst that has ever appeared, dis¬
playing infinite address, perspicuity, and ele¬
gance in his mode of investigation, and pursuing
or transforming the most intricate calculations
with such astonishing readiness and rapidity, as
if they seemed only mere pastimes to recreate
his invention. But the supremacy of Euler was
confined to his unrivalled skill in applying ana¬
lysis ; he attained little eminence in philosophy
and general science, and showed no relish for
the charms of literature. His improvements
and discoveries, however, during a life of assi¬
duous and unremitting labour in every branch
of the Calculus, form a monument of the most
stupendous magnitude.
Our island, after the decease of Maclaurin,
produced none to compete with the great ma¬
thematicians of the Continent, except Thomas
Simpson, whose native talent had struggled
through indigence and a neglected education.
He solved with commendable neatness and bre¬
vity several of the difficult questions of Physi¬
cal Astronomy; but he was deficient in taste
and method, and only followed tardily and at a
distance those masters in science. For a long
period afterwards the inventive genius of Eng¬
land appeared to slumber. The learned were
content with merely commenting on the Prin-
cipia, but rarely borrowing a few scattered lights
from abroad. The current of investigation was
diverted into other channels, or absorbed among
humbler objects. In the meanwhile, a new and
brilliant science, beyond the dominion of Me¬
chanical Philosophy, had been gradually forming,
to which our experimenters contributed their
full share. Electricity captivated its numerous
cultivators by surprising and splendid displays;
but though it engaged the imagination, it afford¬
ed little exercise to the judgment, and was not
fitted to call forth the higher mental energies.
The application of English talent was now
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
579
mainly directed to the improvement and exten¬
sion of the mechanical arts, though perhaps few
nations in Europe have less availed themselves
of the results of abstract science towards aiding
and correcting the operations of practice.
In the career of the sublimer sciences, the
Continent for a long time afterwards maintained
its ascendancy, which was secured by the very
superior skill displayed in managing the integral
calculus, with its improved and refined notation.
But a succession of minor discoveries continued
to expand and consolidate every department of
Natural Philosophy. Daniel Bernoulli, the most
amiable, if not the most ingenious of that shin¬
ing family, embraced with candour the doctrine
of Newton, and likewise evinced, in all his phy¬
sical researches, a considerable share of the sa¬
gacity and singular address which so eminently
distinguished that great master. The attention of
Lambert was diverted to a wide variety of pur¬
suits, and his original and excursive mind shed
new lights on every subject it explored. He
conjoined analytical skill with the talent of ex¬
perimental research. But unfortunately he con¬
tented himself in operating with rude instru¬
ments, and commonly trusted to the probability of
rectifying such imperfect results by the help of
combined calculations. If Mayer had not the
same reach and versatility of genius, he pos¬
sessed that inciting ardour and unconquerable
perseverance which enabled his discrimination
to erect a durable monument. Adopting the
clear formulae of Euler for the several elements
of the moon’s motions, he deduced the indeter¬
minate co-efficients from a strict and most labo¬
rious comparison of Bradley’s observations, and
by thus poising and adjusting the numerical
quantities, he framed a body of Lunar Tables,
which has long been regarded as a standard of
excellence. It is thus that England has generally
supplied the means which rendered the coliclu-
sions of the Continental mathematicians really
available. The reflecting instrument of Hadley,
the achromatic glass of Dolland, and the divid¬
ing machine of Ramsden, have, in succession,
mightily contributed to the progress of practi¬
cal astronomy. The numerous observations of
Bradley and Maskelyne furnished the correct
data which guided Lagrange, Laplace, and Gauss,
through all their profound researches, to the dis¬
covery of the cyclical and reciprocating motions
of the heavenly bodies. The various disturbing
causes incessantly in operation are, after the lapse
of certain vast periods, again renewed and repeat¬
ed in the same order of succession, and thus pre¬
serve the fine harmony, and maintain the per¬
manent stability, of the Universal System.
The British mathematicians had long neglect¬
ed the cultivation of the Higher Analysis, and
were perhaps the more disposed to overlook its
pre-eminent advantages, from observing the
course of their brethren on the Continent, who,
on various occasions, after magnificent displays
of the powers of calculation, but either from
their incomplete integrations or the defective
statement of the physical principles, arrived
merely at the same imperfect conclusions that had
been discovered before by much simpler means.
Our island has at last resumed its proper sta¬
tion in the loftiest departments of science.
Emancipated from the trammels of a narrow
notation, the more aspiring votaries pursue with
ardour the most refined calculus; while they
guide its application and avoid its abuse by the
infusion of that spirit of purity and elegance de¬
rived from the discipline of the ancient geome¬
try. Among the illustrious few whom foreign
nations would adopt with distinction, we may
cite the gifted individual who, rivalling the
fame of Lagrange and Laplace, has, in his
beautiful solution of the problem of the Attrac¬
tion of Spheroids, struck out a new and direct
path, which completely throws into the shade
their very laborious and perplexed trains of in¬
vestigation.
Having traced the great outline, it only re¬
mains to sketch the plan of this Dissertation. I
shall arrange Mathematical and Physical Science
under the two great heads—of Pure or Specula¬
tive Science—and that of Applicate or Practical
Science; each of these again to be classed in subor¬
dinate divisions. Pure Mathematical Science
includes Geometry, Arithmetic, Algebra, and the
Higher Calculus. Its applications are very nu¬
merous and diversified; but without pursuing the
details, our attention will be mainly directed to
the progress of general and pervading principles.
580
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Physical Science occupies a confined space till
it receives the accession of Mathematics, with
which it becomes always the more blended in
proportion as it improves and expands. Puie
Physics at present appears limited to Magnetism
and Electricity, which have yet drawn scarcely
any aid from the disquisitions of Geometry.
The infusion of Mathematics into Physics, and
the application of Physical Science to the Pinc-
tical Arts, led to the most wonderful results,
which have aroused the ingenuity and vastly
multiplied the productive industry of the eigh¬
teenth century. Applicate Physical Science em¬
braces Dynamics, Hydrostatics, Pneumatics,
Optics, Electricity, Magnetism, the Doctrine of
Heat, Meteorology, Geography, and Astronomy.
In discussing these important subjects, separately
or inclusively, incidental lights will be reflected
on General Mechanics and the Elements of Naval
Architecture.
SECTION I.
SPECULATIVE MATHEMATICS.
1. GEOMETRY.
Pure Geometry is in strictness limited to
the mere equality of lines, angles, and spaces,
whether superficial or solid. It owes its main
extension to the principle of comparison or the
doctrine of proportion, which is really but an
application of Arithmetic, the idea of N umber
being transferred to Quantity or Magnitude by
a process of subdivision. Such concert has pro¬
duced the most perfect of abstract sciences, and
erected the noblest monument of the genius and
invention of the ancient Greeks, dhat acute
people nearly completed the Elements of Geo¬
metry; and carrying their speculations beyond
the properties of the Circle, they investigated
the Sections of the Cone, and traced the charac¬
ter of some of the Higher Curves. Ihe demon¬
strations left by the Greek Geometers are models
of accuracy, clearness, and elegance—admirably
calculated for training the minds of youth to
habits of close reasoning and luminous arrange¬
ment. The circumspection of those great instruc¬
tors of mankind in distinguishing the several
cases, and marking the limitations of a proposi¬
tion, though frequently bordering on prolixity,
might serve to warn the rapid cultivator of Alge¬
bra against indulging the tendency to hasty gene¬
ralization which has given rise to the various pa¬
radoxes, and even palpable absurdities, that still
disfigure the excellence of the modern art. The
method of Geometrical Analysis, which investi¬
gates the construction of a problem, by remount¬
ing from its conditions along a chain of depend¬
ence to some known property, affords decidedly
the best exercise and initiatory discipline for the
student in Mathematics. It imbues the mind
with a taste and elegance which insensibly extend
their influence over the culture of the other sci¬
ences. The most curious and difficult portion,
however, of the Greek Geometry, has unfortu¬
nately been transmitted to us in a mutilated and
imperfect state, which has often tortured the
skill of commentators and mathematicians to
restore it. Soon after the revival of letters, the
principal works of the Greek Geometers were
translated in Italy by Commandine; but of
Apollonius’ Conics several books are wanting,
and some parts of the Collections of Pappus ex¬
hibit only detached fragments. Near the close
of the sixteenth century, and early in the seven¬
teenth, Yicta, from a few scattered hints, re¬
stored the lost Tract on Tangencies, Fermat
framed some beautiful separate demonstrations,
and Snellius reproduced the Plane Loci, but in
a tasteless shape. Soon afterwards Viviani, the
surviving disciple of Galileo, supplied the fifth
book of Apollonius, and with such remarkable
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
581
success, that on comparing his production with an
Arabic version just then discovered, he appeared
to have surpassed his original. Huygens1 after¬
wards gave, in the purest taste, some specimens
of the Ancient Geometry. A Collection of the
Mathematical Treatises of the Greeks respecting
the Art of War was now published in a magni¬
ficent folio from the Royal Press at Paris. But
a more extensive undertaking was planned by
our oriental traveller Bernard, to print at Ox¬
ford a complete series of the Greek Geometers,
filling up the blanks from the inspection of
Arabic Manuscripts. In pursuance of this
scheme, Br David Gregory2 edited Euclid, and
Dr Halley3 Apollonius, while he restored like¬
wise the Tracts on the Section of Ratio and
of Space. After an interval of fourscore years,
Torelli’s4 elegant edition of Archimedes, pur¬
chased in Italy? has issued from the same press.
Every lover of science would rejoice to see a
portion of those ample funds that have been
provided at Oxford for the encouragement of
such expensive works, appropriated to the repub¬
lication of Pappus’ Mathematical Collections,
of which several manuscripts exist far more
complete than the copy printed by Comman-
dine.
The relish for the Ancient Geometry has been
1 Born at the Hague in 1G2!), and son of the Lord of Zuy lichen. Secretary to the Prince of Orange; completed his ma¬
thematical studies at Leyden under Schooten, and printed a beautiful tract on the Circle and Hyperbola in 1G51. But af¬
ter visiting different countries, he published in 1G58 his original and immortal work entitled Horologium Oscillatorium.
Having successfully applied the pendulum and the spiral spring to regulate the motions of clocks and watches, he was
anxious to accommodate those instruments to the finding of the longitude at sea. For that purpose he visited England,
where he was treated with distinction; but returning in IGGb through France, he was induced by the Minister Colbert
to accept of a large pension, and fix his abode at Paris. There he resided till his health became impaired, and in 1GG1 he
retired to the calmer enjoyment of his native country. The same pursuits, however, engaged his attention, till his death
at the Hague on the 8th of June 1G95. He was one of the clearest writers and most elegant geometers of modern times,
and his powers of invention have seldom been surpassed. The finished works of Huygens have been collected at two seve¬
ral times into three quarto volumes.
3 Nephew to the famous James Gregory, born at Aberdeen in 1661, completed his education at Edinburgh, and was ap¬
pointed Professor of Mathematics in that University in 1683, the office having been suffered to remain vacant for eight years
after the death of his uncle. In 1691 he had sufficient interest to obtain the Saviiian professorship at Oxford, and had the
honorary degree of Doctor in Physick conferred on him by the University. He published his Elements of Astronomy in
1702, and in the following year brought out his Edition of Euclid. He had made some progress in preparing the Conics
of Apollonius, but fell a sacrifice in 1710 to an attack of malignant small-pox, at Maidenhead, where he chanced to stop at
the Inn, on his return from a visit to Bath. He possessed some learning, but his genius was of a very inferior order to that
of his uncle.
3 Edmund Halley, born in London October 29. 1656, the son of a substantial citizen—educated at St Paul’s school, and sent
to Oxford in 1673—sailed for the island of St Helena in November 1678, and returned with his catalogue of fixed stars
after an absence of exactly two years—elected immediately fellow of the lloyal Society, and deputed by that learned body
in 1679 to visit Hevelius, at Dantzic, and examine his observatory—spent the years 1680 and 1681 in France and Italy.
In 1684, having turned his attention to Kepler’s problem, he tried, as some other mathematicians about this time had done,
to derive it from a graduating central force, but was unable to find a geometrical demonstration; and not obtaining any
help as he expected in this investigation from Hooke or Wren, he had recourse to Newton, who astonished him at Cam¬
bridge by the store of his grand discoveries, condensed into eight general propositions. He overcame the scruples of the
modest philosopher, and prevailed with him to arrange the materials of the Principia, of which he superintended the pub¬
lication in 1687, having written the preface and some elegant recommendatory verses. Halley now gave a geometrical
construction of the higher equations, computed the effects of evaporation in the Mediterranean, and formed tables of life
annuities. For the purpose of improving Nautical Science, he had the command of the Paramour Pink, with which he
sailed from England on the 24th November 1698, traversed the Atlantic, and crossed the Equinoxial Line; but his crew
growing sick and mutinous, he was obliged to return in the following June. Invested with fuller powers, he set sail again
in September, and spent twelve months in exploring both hemispheres, and during the year after his return, he delineated
and published his famous magnetical chart. He was next employed on a survey of the British Channel, and then sent by
the English Government to assist her ally the Emperor of Germany in forming a harbour at the bottom of the Adriatic.
On his return he was appointed, in November 1763, Saviiian Professor of Geometry at Oxford, having been thwarted before
in a similar canvass by clerical influence- He now set about recovering the works of Apollonius ; studied as much Arabic
as enabled him to translate the tract on the Section of Ratio, and he restored the other tract on the Section of Space from
the hints left by Pappus. These pieces, in a small octavo volume, appeared in 1706; but four years afterwards came forth,
in a splendid folio, his edition of the Conics, with the eighth book restored, and the additional treatise of Serenus. In
1719 Halley was appointed astronomer royal, and resided at Greenwich during the rest of his life, devoting his advanced
age to the careful and assiduous observation of the Heavens. He completed even his projected task of embracing a lunar
period of eighteen years. A paralytic disorder seized him in 1737? from which he partially recovered, but his strength declined
insensibly, and he expired on the 14th of January 1742. Few philosophers have contributed more largely to the advance¬
ment of useful knowledge. Ingenuity, ardour, indefatigable perseverance, learning, and general information, were pos¬
sessed by Dr Halley in a most eminent degree; and having mingled in the active scenes of life, he had the rare advantage
of conjoining the love of studv with the habits of social intercourse.
4 Born in 1721 at Verona, where he died in 1781. He studied at Padua, and became a great linguist, a good mathe¬
matician, and an excellent critical scholar. Being in easy circumstances, he devoted his whole time to literary pursuits,
and carried his admiration of the Ancient Geometry almost to a pitch of bigotry.
582
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
longer preserved in Italy and in England than
over the rest of Europe. But no person ever
cultivated that fine science with more assiduity,
perseverance, and success, than our countryman
Dr Robert Simson1 of Glasgow, the learned and
critical editor of Euclid’s Elements. In this
department he concentrated his whole efforts, and
appears, from his familiarity with the ancient
mode of demonstration, to have inhaled the very
spirit of the Greeks. In 1749, he published his
Restoration of the hooks of Apollonius on
Plane Loci, which by its fulness and peculiar
elegance leaves scarcely a shadow of regret for
the loss of the original. Simson pursued his
researches in the Ancient Analysis through a
long life, and not only restored various frag¬
ments, hut threw light on some very difficult
and abstruse questions connected with it. A
posthumous volume, printed in 1776, at the ex¬
pence of Earl Stanhope, besides many fine geo¬
metrical speculations, contains the first satisfac¬
tory exposition of Porisms, of which the defini¬
tion advanced by Pappus had been commonly
regarded as an incomprehensible enigma. But
from the unvarying tenor of his studies, the
Scotch professor became a rigorist for the An¬
cient Analysis, and rejected with disdain the most
obvious improvements in the form of exhibition.
It deserves remark, that mathematical demon¬
stration, being addressed to the eye rather than to
the ear, must attain its greatest perspicuity when
the successive steps of reasoning are seized at a
glance. This is effected by adopting the sym¬
bols of Algebraic Notation, the most concise and
perfect of all written characters; nor is the
beauty and logical accuracy of the procedure in
any degree impaired by such a transparent cover¬
ing.
Dr Matthew Stewart3 of Edinburgh, who had
been the pupil of Dr Simson, and possessed a
1 Born at Kirtonhall in Ayrshire on 14th October 1G87, studied at Glasgow, and made such progress in elementary geo-
metry, that at the early age of 22 he had an offer of the professorship of mathematics, which was immediately expected to be¬
come vacant in that University. Feeling his deficiency, however, he obtained leave of a year’s absence, which he spent
in London under the tuition of Humphry Litton, and was admitted to the chair on the 20th of November I'/ll. His
time seems afterwards to have been mostly spent in discharging the duties of his ofiicp, the intervals being allotted to the
solution of geometrical problems, the perusal of the older mathematicians, and to miscellaneous reading. He led the life
of a recluse, and all his steps were formal and methodical; yet his disposition was amiable, and he indulged at stated times
in easy conviviality. He sent two papers, geometrical and algebraical, on Indeterminate Problems, to the lloyal Society in
1723 and 1753, gave his restoration of the Loci Plani in 1745, published his Conic Sections in 1735, produced the Latin edition
of Euclid’s Elements in a quarto volume in 1756, which he compressed in 1760 into an English octavo, to which he annexed
the data in 1762. It contains only the first six books of the original, with the eleventh and twelfth, the rest of the books
being omitted as of little consequence in the present state of science. Perhaps the selection should have been carried far¬
ther. This edition is correct and creditable to the compiler, and has obtained prodigious success. Nay, the very Scotti¬
cisms with which it abounds appear now to be adopted at Oxford and Cambridge as the appropriate diction of the Ancient
Geometry. Simson quite idolized his original. He had a fine taste for geometry, some talents of invention, and consider¬
able attainments as a scholar, but without any great force of intellect. In his latter years, from excessive veneration of
the Greek Geometry, he not only viewed the Cartesian method with aversion, but began to regard the I luxionary Calculus
with mistrust and suspicion. He became emeritus professor in 1761, and died on the 1st of October 1768.
2 Born in 1717 at Rothsay, in the Isle of Bute, of which place his father was minister; studied seven years at Glasgow,
where he distinguished himself; to gain farther instruction, in 1741 he removed to Edinburgh, where he cultivated the
society of the celebrated Maclaurin, while he corresponded with Simson, his old master. He now prosecuted geometrical
studies with ardour, and put forth his uncommon powers of invention ; and after he became minister at Roseneath, he found
leisure in that seclusion to continue his favourite pursuits. On the occasion of a vacancy of the mathematical chair at Edin¬
burgh by the death of Maclaurin, he was induced to draw out the substance of his most profound geometrical investigations,
which he printed under the title of General Theorems, in a small volume, about the close of 174G-. This publication se¬
cured his election, and after some delay he was appointed professor in September 1747- He now enjoyed a situation most
congenial to his taste, and favourable to the exercise of his rare talents. Ambitious to apply his beloved geometry to un¬
ravel questions which were believed to demand all the resources of algebraic art, he discovered a solution of Kepler’s pro¬
blem at once simple and direct, and greatly surpassing in beauty the more laboured efforts of calculation. . This investi¬
gation was inserted in the second volume of the Transactions of the Edinburgh Society, which appeared in 1/56. En¬
couraged by such success, he five years afterwards produced his Physical and Mathematical Tracts; a very ingenious and
elegant work, which would have been clearer had the author only admitted an abbreviation by the simpler algebraic
symbols. About this time the results of the observations of the Transit of Venus, which had been expected to give the
true distance of the Sun, were found to be unsatisfactory and discordant. Stewart therefore published in 1763, as a
sequel to his Tracts, a theoretical solution of the problem; in which he was directed by Geometry to the exact motion
of the Lunar Apogee, a question that, since the analysis of Newton, had perplexed the greatest mathematicians. . But lie
was not equally felicitous in Determining the Solar Distance, which required the inversion of the problem, and involved
some deceitful and precarious compensations of error. This pamphlet was his last production, having printed only a few
months before an octavo volume under the title of Propositiones Mure Veterum Demonstrate. These propositions, however,
derive their value merely as exercises of the method of conducting geometrical analysis and synthesis. But his lamp of
genius was already nearly extinguished. Dr Stewart fell into a state of bad health, and having devolved the charge of
teaching on his son, then a youth of the highest promise, he retired in 1772 to a small paternal property in Ayrshire,
where he chiefly spent the rest of his days, and died on the 23d of January 1785.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
much richer invention, was likewise an able
and zealous promoter of the Greek Geometry,
which he directed besides to the investigation of
certain difficult parts of Physical Astronomy.
But though managed with sufficient address,
the instrument he employed was hardly fitted
for exploring the more abstruse and recondite
problems, which often require all the concen¬
trated powers of the Modern Analysis. The
conclusions at which he arrived display much
elegance, though merely approximative, and
devoid of the precision that is indispensable in
the present advanced state of Astronomical
Science.
I need not stop to notice the attempts of other
English mathematicians, to restore some frag¬
ments of Apollonius. After the principal de¬
monstration was obtained, there could be little
difficulty in evolving its different phases, and
modifying it to the several cases. Playfair’s
elucidation of the nature of Porisms is entitled
to higher distinction.
It has often been matter of surprise, that the
Greeks should have spent so much ingenuity,
and set such a high value on the Geometrical
Construction of Problems. But the application
of Geometry served them in some measure the
purpose of calculation, and became a sort of
substitute for the tedious and laborious opera¬
tions of their imperfect system of Arithmetic.
Accustomed, as we are, to the extreme facility
of computing by help of the Arabic ciphers,
we can form no adequate conception of the toil
of working with alphabetic numerals, though
the Greeks had made some capital improve¬
ments in their system of notation. They could
extract laboriously the Square Root of a num¬
ber, but never attained the extraction of the
Cube Root, which it appears was first discovered
many centuries afterwards by the Ai-abians.
Hence undoubtedly the solicitude of the Greeks
to solve, by a Geometrical, or even a Mechani¬
583
cal Construction, the famous Delian Problem,
or the Duplication of the Cube.
It would seem that, in finding the square root,
the Greek mathematicians must have employed
certain methods of abbreviation which are not
explained. Archimedes, in his famous Quadra¬
ture of the Circle, to which he approximated by
measuring the successive inscribed and circum¬
scribing polygons, having occasion repeatedly to
extract the square root, expressed the value by
fractions, and yet with such felicity as always
to adopt the lowest integral numerator and de¬
nominator. He thus discovered that the cir¬
cumference of a circle is less than times and
greater than times its diameter, or that their
ratio lies between the ratios 7 to 22 and of 71
to 223.1 This approximation within the limits
of the 2000th and 4000th parts, might he suffi¬
cient for ordinary practice. But Apollonius and
Ptolemy afterwards approached a hundred times
nearer. Yet no farther advances were made
in solving that important problem, which re¬
quired the most refined address, till the lapse of
near a thousand years, when the Arabians be¬
came possessed of the denary system of notation,
and carried the expression for the circumference
of a circle to ten decimal places. But this elabo¬
rate result was imperfectly known to the revi¬
vers of science in Europe ; and Vieta, Adrianus
Romauus, and others, exerted their ingenuity and
patience in extending the earlier solution. The
simplest and most elegant is that of 113 to 355,
an approximation differing scarcely by the ten
millionth part from the truth, which was disco¬
vered about the year 1585 by the elder Adrian
Metius, a military engineer in Holland. His
countrymen Van Keulen and Snellius, in the
next century, pushed the expression for the cir¬
cumference of the circle to 35 figures. But the
progress of the higher analysis opened more easy
and rapid modes of approximation. In the early
part of the eighteenth century, Sharp2 and Ma-
This ratio, it may be observed, is easily derived from the limits assigned by Archimedes, for <1 + 7 X t! = 113,
and 223 + 22 x 6 = 355. ' . . . ,
2 Abraham Sharp, born at Little Horton, in the West Riding of Yorkshire, m 1G51, was apprenticed to a merchant at
Manchester; but preferring the study of mathematics, he supported himself by teaching a school in Liverpool. Here he en¬
gaged as amanuensis to Flamsteed, and became his assistant when the Royal Observatory was erected at Greenwich in 1676.
His services were most eminent in every department. He constructed optical and astronomical instruments, observed
stars, calculated tables, and delineated celestial charts. His peculiar neatness of execution is displayed in a small geo¬
metrical work which he published in 1717- About that time he seems to have retired to his native village, where he led
the life of a hermit, but esteemed for his quiet and beneficent disposition. He died in 1742.
584
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
chin1 computed in England the quadrature of
the circle to 75 and 100 places of decimals, and
Lagny in France advanced to 128 figures. But
these labours were outdone by Vega,2 an officer
of artillery in the Austrian service, who amused
his leisure during a campaign, in employing
one of Euler’s formulae to derive the length of
a quadrant from the tangents of fractional
arcs, carried the expression to 140 decimal
places. This was the luxury of calculation;
and though no doubt superfluous, it might at
least convince any judicious person of the
impossibility of stating the ratio of the diame¬
ter to the circumference in finite terms. Yet
the squaring of the circle is a problem which
has at all times fascinated the attention and
bewildered the reason of many superficial or an¬
tiquated students in Geometry. The incom¬
mensurability of the circle, which James Gre¬
gory had attempted to prove in 1661, was finally
demonstrated a century afterwards by Lam¬
bert, from an ingenious transformation of the
known series for the quadrantal arc in terms
of its tangent or the radius. The same inge¬
nious mathematician likewise proposed several
neat geometrical constructions, for approximat¬
ing to the length of arcs of a circle still more
nearly than the methods given by Fermat, Gre¬
gory, Huygens, and others.
Elementary Plane Geometry rests on the com¬
bined properties of the straight line and the circle.
Many important additions have been made to
the digest of Euclid; and several eminent ma¬
thematicians of the eighteenth century have cor¬
rected, simplified, and essentially improved the
only valuable portion of the large work.5 Some
1 John Machin, elected professor of Astronomy in Gresham College in 1713, and became secretary of the Itoyal Society.
He had the reputation of being an able mathematician, yet his essay on the Laws of the Moon’s Motion, in which he at-
tempted to rectify the Principia, was but a superficial performance. He died in 1751.
2 This excellent mathematician, who published in 1794 a complete collection of Logarithmic Tables and Analytical
Formulae, was eight years afterwards robbed and barbarously murdered by a miller, in whose house he lodged, and his body
thrown into the Danube.
3 It may be sufficient perhaps to notice the Elements of Geometry by Thomas Simpson, and the similar treatises in the
French language by Clairaut and Legendre. These productions all unite clearness with precision ; and excluding whatever
appears superfluous, they still comprise the whole series of connected propositions. Simpson’s unpretending volume is neat
and very brief, yet sufficiently perspicuous. The Geometry of Clairaut is still shorter, but has an air of originality, being
designed to show the road of induction, or to guide the learner through his efforts at the solution of geometric problems,
to discover the great elementary truths. He followed the same plan, and with more complete success, in his excellent
Elements of Algebra. But the Geometry by Legendre claims much higher merit, and is perhaps the best on the whole
that has yet appeared. It were vain, however, to expect perfection: the steps of his demonstrations are sometimes incom¬
plete, and his entire separation of the problems is at least a very questionable improvement. The notes he has added are
valuable, but appear disproportioned to the text, and certainly too profound for beginners. This elegant geometer attempt¬
ed to found the comparison of triangles on abstract considerations derived from the common theory of functions. But
such reasonings a priori are fallacious, involving unperceived some metaphysical assumptions.
The works now mentioned might suffice for the instruction of practical or professional men ; but the pursuit of a liberal
education aspires to greater attainments. The main object is to sharpen the faculty of perception, and invigorate by due
exercise the tone of the intellectual powers. For contributing to that effect, the fulness and circumspection of the an¬
cient mode of demonstration are admirably calculated. It seemed, therefore, an estimable task to select the scattered
wrecks of the Greek Analysis, and dispose them into a form accessible to ordinary students. The beauty of the pro¬
positions concerning Loci was particularly striking.
It would be preposterous, however, to hold up the Elements of Euclid as a standard of instruction in Geometry for the
present day. They were composed before the invention of Trigonometry, and probably designed chiefly as an introduction
to the Pythagorean Philosophy. Hence the large portion of them devoted to the relations of numbers, and the properties
of the regular polygons and solids. By common consent, therefore, the greater part of the system is now laid aside, and
the other books are commonly altered or curtailed in practice. Many trivial propositions occur in the third book ; several
of the fourth have little interest; and it may abate that extravagant praise which several mathematicians have lavished on
the Doctrine of Proportion contained in the fifth book, to know that it really cannot be taught. But the language em¬
ployed in that celebrated compilation, for want of appropriate technical terms, is often vague and indistinct. The
word angle, for instance, has no less than three different significations; and other examples of a like confusion might be
easily cited. In some cases, the demonstrations of Euclid are imperfect or inconclusive. Thus, the reasoning in the twenty-
fourth proposition of the first book applies only to the particular position of the figure; an objection first started by Thomas
Simpson, to the great annoyance of his critical namesake. But similar oversight was made in the demonstration of the
seventh proposition of the same book, which fails if the figure be changed. Both these propositions are only of conse¬
quence as auxiliaries in the train of combination. But of the fundamental property of parallel lines, the demonstration
rests on the mere assumption of an intricate axiom. In a few cases the reasoning is unnecessarily complicated, from the
peculiar conceptions of the author. Thus, the noted fifth proposition of the first book is of that description. Its demon¬
stration implies the reversed application, at least mentally, of the isosceles triangle ; but Euclid evades or disguises the pro¬
cess, by producing the sides of the triangle, and forming two interwoven triangles, which are virtually adapted by inver¬
sion, and the annexed triangles being then taken away, the equality of the angles at the base hence follows. But the last
is the only step wanted, and the other two were evidently superfluous. This stumbling proposition has been called the
Pons Asinorum; and no wonder that the beginner should feel puzzled at seeing such a parade of argument end in so plain
a result.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
585
remarkable propositions, derived from sources
beyond the usual scope of Geometry, are yet as¬
similated with that science. Of such accessions,
one of the most beautiful is the late curious and
unexpected discovery of Gauss, that, besides
the ordinary regular polygons, a numerous class
more complex, including the next polygon of
seventeen sides, are capable of being inscribed
within a circle, by a mere geometrical construc¬
tion. 1
In solving the common problems, the straight
line and the circle are generally combined, which
requires the application of both the ruler and
the compasses. Schooten effected by the ruler
alone several simple constructions, of use parti¬
cularly in castrametation. But the late Masche-
roni2 of Bergamo, in a small work which appear¬
ed in 1795, made a beautiful addition to Ele¬
mentary Geometry, by the solution of a variety
of problems, especially those concerning the in¬
scription of the regular polygons, with the help
exclusively of compasses. Such speculations,
however, are in a great measure extraneous to
the science.
The theory of Lines of the Second Order
forms one of the finest speculations of the more
advanced geometry. These curves were derived
from the Section of the Cone; but the clearest
and most philosophical way of treating them is
by considering their description on a plane.
The distinguishing property of the foci was
known to Apollonius, but the advantage of its
application overlooked. The Parabola forms
the intermediate transition of the Ellipse to the
Hyperbola, the remote focus stretching farther
out, till it vanishes into indefinite space, again
to re-appear on the opposite side. The features
of the Parabola are therefore not strictly includ¬
ed in the phases of the Ellipse and Hyperbola.
The more comprehensive relation of the dis¬
tances of any point in the curve from a focus
and the directrix is mentioned by Pappus, but
the beauty of that locus was not perceived till
Boscovich, in 1752, deduced the properties of
those lines from it in a string of corollaries,
more ingenious than elegant. This essay was
compressed and methodized by Thomas New¬
ton in 1794; and in the same year Walker, a
respectable mathematician, unaware of what
had been already done, produced a work on a
similar plan, of which the first part occupied a
quarto volume, composed indeed after the man¬
ner of the ancients, but so exceedingly prolix in
diction as to have very few readers.
An elegant mode of investigating curves of
the second or higher orders, is to consider them
as generated by the conditional intersection of
angles or lines turning about fixed points or
poles. The property had been stated generally
in the Principia, but was expanded in 1720 by
Maclaurin in his Geometria Organica. The in¬
tersections of Polar Radiants were discussed by
Brackenridge in 1733. The subject has been
again revived, and prosecuted with great inge¬
nuity and research, by the celebrated Carnot,
under the denomination of Transversals.
No part of Geometry has been more improved
in the course of the last century than Trigono¬
metry, which is not only simplified but much ex¬
tended in its application. The theory of planes
and solids has likewise been cultivated with emi¬
nent success. As the position of a point on a
plane is assigned by referring it to two co-ordi¬
nate lines, so the place of a point in space may
be determined by its distances from three planes
which are mutually perpendicular. The proper¬
ties of a line of single curvature may be derived
from the equation of its co-ordinates; the pro¬
perties of a curved surface can likewise be de¬
duced from its triple shades, or the perpendicu¬
lar projections on the three planes. Such is the
process employed by Monge3 in his Descriptive
1 Gauss found that the expression for the multiple cosine is always decomposable into binomial factors, and hence con¬
cluded that any regular polygon, the number of whose sides is a prime,-and denoted by 2" +1, may be inscribed in a circle
by mere Elementafy Geometry. These numbers form the series 3, 5, 17, 257, (15537, &c. of which the first two only were
^MTornhTnSO; died at Paris, July 14, 1800. His tract on the Compasses happening to fall into the hands of General Bo¬
naparte during his first triumphant campaign in Italy, this extraordinary man was so struck with its ingenuity, that, on
hisP return to^Paris, he communicated, in conversation, some of the propositions to the
book was immediately translated into French, and the author promoted to a place of tiust and emolument m the Itahai
^Gasnard Moime, born in 1746 at Beaune, and educated at the Jesuits’ seminary at Lyons. His uncommon talent for
drawing procured him admission into the Military School at Mezieres, where he soon became assistant teacher. Trusted
DISS. IV.
586
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Geometry, which may he considered as the com¬
pletion of the analytical method of Descartes.
It furnishes direct and general solutions of se¬
veral important problems, especially of those re¬
lating to the intersection of planes and the con¬
stitution of solids. Descriptive Geometry com¬
prehends also the theory of Perspective, which
was founded by Ubaldi, and long afterwards re¬
cast and simplified by Brook Taylor, and ren¬
dered still more practical by Lambert.
2. ARITHMETIC.
To express large numbers by continued addi¬
tions being impossible, it soon became neces¬
sary to arrange them on a scale of ascending
progression. The simplest mode was evidently
to repeat the same root of the scale; and as men
in the earlier periods of society used to reckon
with the ten fingers of both hands, they were
led by Nature herself to frame the Denary Sys¬
tem of Numeration. If they had likewise form¬
ed marks for a Digital Notation, they would have
completed the bases of Arithmetic. But un¬
fortunately the Alphabetic Characters had been
introduced before distinct symbols were con¬
trived to represent numbers. The letters design¬
ed merely for written language, came hence
among all nations to be employed besides in
numeral notation, though hardly manageable,
and ill adapted to any regular system of arrange¬
ment. In the application of those characters
the ancient Greeks showed great ingenuity, by
distinguishing them into three classes, appropri¬
ated to the ascending progression of units, tens,
and hundreds. In this way they reached the
term of a thousand, and by employing as an
auxiliary the capital M, they could indicate
myriads or ten thousands. The triple series of
thousands up to a million were more easily
denoted, however, by placing a dash under
the successive sections of letters. But Archi¬
medes indicated a mode of obtaining almost un¬
bounded extension of this system, by decompos¬
ing the elements of the notation into periods of
ascending myriads. Apollonius simplified the
plan, by adopting a thousand as the root of the
progressive scale. Had he proceeded only a
little farther, and rejected the letters, except the
first class denoting digits, he would have render¬
ed his notation perfect, and have achieved one
of the most useful and prolific discoveries ever
made. Ptolemy afterwards advanced much
nearer to this ultimate object, by employing, in his
Trigonometrical Tables, the descending Sexagesi¬
mal Scale, suggested by the subdivision of the cir¬
cumference of a circle into degrees, of which sixty,
or the root of this scale, correspond nearly to the
length of the radius. It would seem, however,
that, during the interval between Archimedes
and Ptolemy, the Greek Arithmetic had receiv¬
ed some essential improvements in practice; for
the Sicilian geometer, by a very tedious and
operose process, of which he gives merely the re¬
sults, was content with stating the ratio of the
diameter to the circumference of a circle as in¬
termediate between that of 7 to 22 and of 71 to
223, differing therefore by a 1200th part from
the truth; whereas the chords computed by the
astronomer of Alexandria for every half degree
of the semicircle are correct to the last place,
and consequently never deviate by a 300,000th
part of the whole.
with the tedious and operose methods of calculation then practised among engineers, he sought to shorten the road by recur-
ring to general principles and the aid of Geometry. Thinking closely on that subject, he matured a regular system, which
has changed the theory of planes and solids. The ardour of his pursuits was infused into his pupils, and the frequent com¬
munications he made to learned societies rapidly extended his fame. In 1780 he was conjoined with Bossut as acting pro-
tesor of Hydrodynamics at the Louvre, a place erected by the patriotic minister Turgot, which required him to reside at
Pans only during half the year. But three years afterwards, on being appointed to succeed Bezout as Examiner of the
Marine, he fixed his permanent abode in the capital, and engaged in the experiments and discussions of the philosophers.
He became a warm partisan of the Revolution, and contributed his utmost efforts to promote the various plans adopted
by its leaders. But he deserved praise for the great concern he took in founding the Polytechnic School, an institution
eventually productive of the very best effects. Having accompanied Bonaparte to Egypt, he returned with the fruit of
his observations to share in the fortunes of that wonderful man. He resumed with lustre the place of professor, and con¬
tinued to delight the numerous pupils by his kind attention and the clearness and expansion of his oral discourses. But
on the second return of the Bourbons in 1815, he felt the weight of their vengeance. The Institute was remodelled, and
the 1 olytechnic School suppressed. This sad reverse preyed on his spirits, and produced alienation of mind; in which me-
lanchoiy state he languished for some time, and expired on the 28th July 1818.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
587
The Romans, who cared only about objects of
vulgar ambition, overlooked the refined mode of
Greek Notation, and remained satisfied with their
own very clumsy and involved system, which
could with difficulty represent a large number,
but was absolutely disqualified for serving in
any way the purposes of calculation. They were
obliged therefore to have recourse to counters,
and by help of the Abacus, or decimal board, they
performed the ordinary operations of summing
accounts. This humble expedient was practised
in Europe till the seventeenth century, and is
still used by the traders throughout the Chinese
Empire, its application being there facilitated
by the prevalence of the decimal subdivision of
weights, measures, and coins.
The discovery of the Denary Notation, so beau¬
tiful and simple in its application, is commonly
referred to India, though neither the place nor
the date of its origin has been ascertained. It
was unknown to the Arabian astronomers till
near the close of the eleventh century of our era,
and even at this period its expressions appear
sometimes intermingled with the alphabetic nu¬
merals. But the advantages of the system were
soon perceived; and the Tables of Sines and
Tangents calculated by those laborious mathe¬
maticians are now found, from examination of
the manuscripts belonging to the University
of Leyden, to be correct to the tenth decimal
figure. The Arabians transmitted the new sys¬
tem of notation to the flourishing colony of
their countrymen in Spain, whence it was slow¬
ly communicated to the several Christian States
over Europe. This change was effected chiefly
by the calendars or perpetual almanacs com¬
piled in the Moorish seminaries, and eagerly pur¬
chased by the various monasteries and convents
throughout Christendom. Yet the Arabic ciphers
appear to have remained unknown in every part
of Europe beyond Spain, before the middle of the
fourteenth century; nor in mercantile transac¬
tions were they commonly adopted till near two
centuries later. It is a singular circumstance
that the advantages of employing the descending
progression in the nicer calculations were not
sooner perceived, especially after the use which
Ptolemy had made of sexagesimals. Stevinus
was the first who distinctly introduced the prac¬
tice of decimal fractions in 1585, though Regio¬
montanus had made a great step towards that
improvement, which Ramus even indirectly em¬
ployed. To count downwards might seem as
easy as to reckon upwards. But the mode of
denoting the ranks of decimals was then most
cumbrous, the successive numerals, like the in¬
dices in Algebra, being inclosed in small circles.
Bayer in 1619 proposed to substitute for these
complex marks an accent repeated. It was our
illustrious countryman Napier, however, that
brought the notation of decimals to its ultimate
simplicity, having proposed in his lUiabdologia,
printed ten years earlier,'to reject entirely the
marks placed over the fractions, and merely to
set a point at the end of the units. But his su¬
blime invention of Logarithms about this epoch
eclipsed every minor improvement, and as far
transcended the denary notation, as this had sur¬
passed the numeral system of the Greeks.
Various speculations have been framed re¬
garding the properties of the different arithme¬
tical scales. Leibnitz fancied important advan¬
tages to accrue from the adoption of the Binary
Scale, which operates with extreme facility, and
requires only a single character besides the zero.
This progression mounts so slowly, however,
that it cannot express a large number without
employing a multitude of terms. But the Duo¬
denary Notation, which is partially admitted in
the uncial subdivisions, would evidently answer
the best for general practice. It proceeds faster
than the Denary Scale, and is less subject to be
affected by fractions, since its root has no fewer
than four divisors, while ten admits only of
two. Still these advantages would not compen¬
sate for its want of conformity with the train of
ordinary language. The Decimal Arithmetic
would soon generally supersede the use of every
other kind of fractions, if it were likewise in
practice combined with an extensive decimal
subdivision of weights and measures.
The curious or mystical properties of num¬
bers have at all times fixed the attention of
mankind. Square numbers, denoting the sides
of a right-angled triangle, were sought for by
the Pythagoreans, who gave a very simple rule
588
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to compute them.1 Perfect numbers, or such
as may be composed by the addition of their
aliquot parts, could not fail to excite admira¬
tion ; and Euclid produced an elegant theorem
for discovering them. It is remarkable that these
numbers should appear frequent at first in the
series, and afterwards occur only at wide inter¬
vals. Thus, below 10,000, there are four perfect
numbers; but the last of the succeeding four
includes no fewer than nineteen ciphers.2 The
moderns have advanced farther, and imagined
what are called Amicable numbers, on all which
subjects Euler has shown his ingenuity and un¬
rivalled analytical skill.
It is less a matter of speculation, while it is
of considerable consequence in the practice of
calculation, to assign the Px*ime Numbers, or
such as admit of no division, and to resolve the
Composite Numbers into their several factors.
No general method has yet been devised for the
investigation of Primes, though by the researches
of Bachet and Fermat in the seventeenth century,
and of Euler, Lagrange, Legendre, and Gauss, in
the eighteenth, they are now reduced to certain
constant forms, which may facilitate their dis¬
covery. By an extension of the method called
the Sieve of Eratosthenes, a sort of mechanical
process, the prime numbers are separated from
the ordinary progression. In this way several
authors have constructed tables of Primes, and
of Composite Numbers, with their various fac¬
tors or divisors. Lindenau proceeded to a hun¬
dred thousand, but Cherac has lately carried the
enumeration as high as ten millions.
The formation of Magic Squares, by which
the numbers in their natural order are disposed
in cells, so that each column gives an equal sum,
remounts to high antiquity. They have been
regarded in the east as charms or talismans, of
great potency in the tide of human affairs. The
digital squares from 3 to 9 were dedicated to
the seven stars, including the sun and moon,
which in the astrological visions were believed
to rule the successive days of the week.3 The
people of Siam had learned a very simple method
of filling up those squares; but some European
Mathematicians have since amused themselves
with such arithmetical curiosities. Stifels, in his
Arithmetica Integra, incidentally treated of Ma¬
gic Squares, yet without naming them. He was
immediately followed in a small arithmetical
treatise by Adam Riese; but the French seem
to have directed most attention to those scienti¬
fic recreations. From the latter part of the 17th
till beyond the middle of the 18th century, a
succession of ingenious persons were at pains to
improve and extend the construction. Frenicle,
Poignard, Delahire, Ons-en-Bray, and Rallier
des Ourmes, are entitled to particular notice.
The construction of Magic Squares belongs
to the class of problems styled Indeterminate,
which depend on variable combinations, and
therefore admit of very numerous answers.
Thus, Frenicle, who successfully studied this
subject near the beginning of the last century,
showed that the first sixteen of the natural num¬
bers could be formed into a Magic Square in not
fewer than 880 different ways. Analysts have
since tried to narrow those changes, and aug¬
ment the difficulty of the investigation, by an¬
nexing other conditions. Dr Franklin produ¬
ced, by dint of perseverance, what he called a
Magic Square of Squares, and a Magical Circle.
De la Hire4 treated the formation of Magic
Squares with such copious detail as to leave very
little to be done by his successors. Yet several
eminent mathematicians have occasionally re¬
verted to this amusing subject. Even the great
Euler has not disdained to direct his transcend-
ant skill in algebraic analysis to the solution of
£ See notes to the Elements of Geometry. Euler has demonstrated that every number whatever consists of not more than
four squares. An example may be given of the composition of numbers between 10 and 20 : 10 = 9 + 1, 11 = 9 + 1 + 1,
12 =9 + 1+ 1 + 1, 13 = 9 + 4, 14 = 9 + 4 + 1, 15 = 9 + 4 + 1 + 1,17 = 16 + 1, 18 = 16 + 1 + 1,19 = 16 + 1 + 1 + 1,
20 = 16 + 4.
2 It may gratify the curious to see the series 6, 28, 496, 8128, 33550336, 8589869056, 137438691328, and
2305843008139952128. These numbers are obtained by multiplying the 1, 2, 4, 6, 12, 16, 18, and 30 powers of 2 by its
2, 3, 5, 7, 13, 17, 19, and 31 powers diminished by unit.
3. first in modern times who noticed Magic Squares was Agrippa of Ncttesheim, who gave in his books de Occulta
Philosophia, printed in 1535, the Sigilla Jovis, Mortis, Solis, Veneris, Mercurii, and Lunce.
, 4 .I'01’1.1 at ^>aris 111 1640, and died in 1718, a man of some attainments, and great application—well acouainted with the
details of surveying, and of practical astronomy.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
589
problems connected with the theory of Magic
Squares.1 *
Another portion of Arithmetic, not merely
curious, but of material importance in the ap¬
plication of that science, has been much culti¬
vated during the eighteenth century. If both
the terms of a proper fraction be divided by the
numerator, there will result an equivalent frac¬
tion, having unit for its numerator, and an in¬
teger, conjoined with another fraction of smaller
terms, for its denominator. But this new frac¬
tion may be again broken down in the same
way, and the process of decomposition renewed
successively, till a fraction with an integral de¬
nominator is at length obtained. This mode of
resolution is therefore the very same as what is
employed in finding a common measure or di¬
visor, only the several quotients are here pre¬
served. When the original fraction is expressed
by rational numbers, its decomposition must al¬
ways terminate; but if the numerator and de¬
nominator be mutually incommensurable, the
process of evolving their elements will never
draw to a conclusion. The fractions which
thence arise may simply repeat, or they may cir¬
culate at short intervals or periods, or they may
succeed each other without any sort of order
whatever. But it is evident that such progres¬
sive subdivision must approach constantly near¬
er to the true value, and that the resulting frac¬
tions, if successively recombined, will exhibit a
series of approximations.
The fractions of this kind were first noticed
by Lord Brounker,3 who proposed one of them
to express the ratio of the diameter to the cir¬
cumference of a circle, which Dr Wallis3 after¬
wards investigated. Huygens perceived the
utility of employing such fractions to represent
approximate ratios, and in this way he found
convenient small numbers to represent the teeth
of the wheels and pinions of his Planetarium.
But the subject appears to have lain neglected
till 1737, when Euler explored it with his usual
depth and felicity, in a distinct memoir publish¬
ed in the Petersburg Transactions. He may con¬
sequently be regarded as the real founder of the
Theory of Continued Fractions, to which indeed
he gave the appellation they have since retained.
It was a favourite speculation of that great
analyst, who resumed the subject at different
times, and widely extended its application. Eu¬
ler showed how to convert any quadratic equa¬
tion into a Continued Fraction, and demon¬
strated that the expression for an irrational
square root consists of terms which either repeat
or circulate in regular periods. A cube root
may likewise be expressed by a Continued Frac¬
tion, but its terms can have no sort of order in
their sequence. As these Fractions, in approach¬
ing to their ultimate value, oscillate continually
between excess and defect, they are always
capable of being changed into Converging Series,
affected by the alternate signs of plus and minus,
and the transformation may be reversed. By this
method the very ingenious Lambert converted
the series of Gregory and Leibnitz for the length
of a quadrant into a Continued Fraction, whose
terms have a regular and incessant circulation,
and hence proved (what had only been presumed
before) that the Circle is incommensurable. But
he was enabled to proceed still farther, and to
establish, that even the square of the number
1 Cornelius Capito printed, in 17t>7, at Gluckstadt, a short treatise on Magic Squares, in which he proposed to vary
their construction no fewer than a million times. But the latest and completest work on this curious subject was compiled
by the late Professor Mollweide of Leipsic, the ingenious editor of Kliigel’s valuable Mathematischcs Worterbuch.
* Born in 1620, and died in 1684 ; an able mathematician, but an unprincipled courtier.
3 This very remarkable man was born November 23, 1616, at Ashford in Kent—educated at Cambridge—became chaplain
to Lady Yere in 1643, and was then led to cultivate the art of deciphering, in which he acquired such skill, as to be after¬
wards frequently employed by the Long Parliament in examining intercepted dispatches. Through that interest he was ap¬
pointed to a sequestrated church in London, and chosen in 1644 one of the scribes to the Westminster Assembly of Divines.
But his austere occupation did not divert him from the nobler pursuits of philosophy and science; and being appointed by
the Parliamentary commissioners in 1649, Savilian Professor of Geometry at Oxford, he continued regularly to discharge
the duties of that office. He had afterwards some hot disputes with Hobbes, who, though a most ingenious metaphysician,
unfortunately mistook his own blunders for discoveries in Mathematics. Wallis maintained a large correspondence with
men of science, and assiduously contributed to the progress of philosophical discovery during that active period. The mo¬
deration of his character assured him the possession of the places he held at the Itestoration ; and though he found leisure
to compose a very learned philosophical grammar of the English language, and sometimes indulged his early taste for con¬
troversial divinity, he devoted the greater part of a long life to the laborious cultivation and extension ot the various de¬
partments of Mathematical Science. His works are voluminous, and display great erudition, talents for deep research, and
originality of conception. He died on the 28th October 1703, and was succeeded in the chair by Dr Halley. •
590
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
expressing the circumference is likewise irra¬
tional. 1
Lagrange has since recommended and ex¬
plained the application of Continued Fractions
to the solution of numerical equations. These
fractions may be readily changed into Recur¬
ring Series)2 which) in the case of small roots5
are often beautifully simple and remarkably con¬
vergent. But sometimes they betray the opposite
tendency to diverge; and the great object of
Langrange was to remove that defect. Euler, in
several of his last memoirs and opuscules, di¬
rected them to indeterminate problems, to the
finding of maxima and minima, and to the de¬
velopment and integration of certain analytical
formulae. Nothing can exceed the beauty of
some of these speculations.
It is a singular fact, that though Continued
Fractions had their origin in this island, they
were afterwards almost wholly overlooked by
our mathematicians. Scarcely thirty years have
passed away since the attention of the curious
was again recalled to them. But an acquaintance
with the transformation of those fractions would
prove extremely useful to practical men, by fur¬
nishing a variety of short approximations, which
are easily remembered and readily applied. Or¬
dinary computations in mensuration, in the com¬
parison of different weights and measures, and
in several standard proportions, might thus be
much abbreviated without any sensible inaccu¬
racy. The method proposed by Lambert for
decomposing fractions into progressions that
have their denominators formed by successive
multipliers, could be employed in a similar way;
but its application is somewhat diflicult and in¬
tricate.3
To facilitate the operations of arithmetic,
tables have been digested of the powers and
products of numbers. The most astonishing
work of that kind, including all the multipliers
from one to one thousand, was produced by
Hervart, Chancellor of Bavaria, in 1610, only
four years before the invention of Logarithms,
the want of which it could in some faint degree
have supplied. But tables of products in a less
unwieldy shape are still occasionally used for
abridging the labour of calculation. A notable
improvement has been lately introduced by the
substitution of Quarter Squares, grounded on
the known property that the product of any two
numbers is equal to the fourth part of the ex¬
cess of the square of their sum above the square
of their difference. A single page might com¬
prise as many of those numbers as, by simple
addition and subtraction, would exhibit an ex¬
tent of products equal to those contained in
Hervart’s enormous folio.4
It would be a great improvement in elemen¬
tary education to introduce into the schools a
more extended multiplication table, including
at least all the products of the numbers from 1
to 25. A very useful practice has been adopted
lately in the north of Germany, to accustom
learners to the readiness of mental calcula¬
tion.5
1 The area of a circle having unit for its diameter is expressed by the alternating series 1 — s + s — 7 + 5, &c. which
was converted by Euler into the continued fraction 1
T + 2
2+9^
2+25
IT + 49
2 + &c., the numerators being the squares
of the odd numbers. This extension never stops, and consequently the fraction is not reducible to finite terms. The
square of the expression runs into a similar infinitude.
2 It deserves to be mentioned that Girard first gave the simple recurring series which expresses the parts of a line di¬
vided into extreme and mean ratio. It is formed by the continued addition of the two preceding terms. Thus 0, 1, 1, 2,
3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 83, 144, &c. The square of each number in this series differs from the product of the two numbers
which inclose it, only by unit alternately in excess and defect: Thus 82 = 64 = 5 x 13 — 1, 132 = 169 = 8 x 21 + 1.
3 For an explication of Lambert’s method of decomposing fractions, see Philosophy of Arithmetic.
4 A large table of multiplication, from 1 to 10,090, and a specimen of quarter squares, extending to a million, may be
seen in the treatise quoted above.
5 It is called Kopfrechnung or calculating by the head. Three works are current on this subject, those of Biermann, Heuss,
and Kohler—published between 1790 and 1816.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
591
3. ALGEBRA.
Algebra derives its immense superiority over
the ancient analysis from the very complete sys¬
tem of notation which it has at length attained.
Each step of an investigation being now regis¬
tered in the clearest and most precise manner,
the mind is relieved from the fatigue of carrying
forward the whole of a continuous chain of rea¬
soning. It can rest at any place, and again re¬
sume the process of deduction with the greatest
facility. But this perfection of pictured lan¬
guage has heen the result of a series of slow
and successive improvements. Diophantus, who,
soon after the Christian era, composed a large
treatise on the resolution of certain arithmetical
problems, a portion of which work is preserved,
made the first attempt towards an abbreviated
form of analysis. The symbols he used were,
however, exceedingly few, being the initials or
terminations of the ordinary words, only some¬
what modified. It deserves remark, that Dio¬
phantus viewing a number as composed from
another by the addition or subtraction of a
third, he termed this last one abundant or de¬
ficient, and gave a rule for the multiplication
of those affected numbers, similar to what is
now applied to the signs plus and minus. His
treatise passed into the hands of the Arabians,
who studied the numerical properties with much
ardour, but made no advances in refining or
simplifying the form of notation. From them
again this higher species of arithmetic was
transplanted into Italy, probably during the
fourteenth century, by Leonard, a merchant
of Pisa, who had travelled long in the East.
A series of works .on Arithmetic and Geome¬
try were published between the years 1470
and 1487 by Pacciolo, a Minorite Friar, who
in 1494 brought out his Arte Maggiore, or what
he says was vulgarly called the llegola de la
Cos a, or Alghebra and Almucabala ; the first ap¬
pellation derived from the Italian Cosa, denot¬
ing the Thing sought, and the other borrowed
from the Arabic words expressing Resolution and
Composition. After the appearance of this ele¬
mentary digest, Algebra was cultivated in Italy,
during the first half of the sixteenth century,
with great industry and success. Ferreo, Tar-
talea, and especially Cardan, made rapid ad¬
vances in the new science. This ingenious
though very singular person not only gave the
solution of Cubic Equations which bears his
name, but discovered the leading properties of
equations in general, distinguishing their roots
into the true and the fictitious ; and besides im¬
proved the notation by employing frequently the
letters of the alphabet. The Italians, however,
still used contracted words for symbols, and
the initials p. and m. for the signs of plus and
minus. In 1572, Bombelli of Bologna, retaining
this embarrassed mode of writing, composed a
regular summary of Algebra, which he enriched
with Ferrari’s rule for resolving biquadratic
equations. In the meanwhile the knowledge of
the analytic art had penetrated into Germany,
where it received its capital improvement in no¬
tation from the systematic genius of that people.
The change was chiefly effected by the industry
of Stifels,1 a Protestant minister and zealous
follower of Luther, who in 1544 published his
Arithmetica Integra. In that remarkable work
he first introduced the symbols + and — for
plus and minus, and the character V (or a con¬
tracted R) for Radix or root; and he repre¬
sented unknown quantities by the capital let¬
ters A, B, C, &c. and intimated the successive
powers and their reciprocals by an ascending
and descending series of exponents. Nor was
his merit confined to algebraic writing: the en-
1 Born at Eslingen, in Saxony, in 1509, and died at Jena in 1567- Though a profound and inventive mathematician,
he seems to have iinbibed all the wild enthusiasm of that convulsed period. Captivated perhaps by the wonderful properties
of numbers, he fancied, as other ingenious persons have since done, that he could interpret the visions of the Apocalypse,
and foretell the end of the world. He was so imprudent as to place that awful dissolution very near hand. Early in the
morning of the day predicted in the year 1553, he assembled his trembling flock in a wide open field, where he endeavoured
to season their minds for the tremendous change by fervid prayers and pathetic exhortations. The sky was lowering, the
darkness thickened, a portentous silence prevailed, and the preacher rolled his thunders with overpowering energy. But
the clouds soon passed away, the sun shone forth in his wonted splendour, and all nature smiled. The populace recovered
their agitated spirits; and now breathing rage and disdain, they chased the unlucky prophet home with volleys of stones.
592
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
thusiasm of the age seems to have roused the
spirit of invention in him; and Stifels anti¬
cipated some of the later discoveries, pointed
out the nature of Logarithms, explained the pro¬
perties of figurate numbers, and showed how
the co-efficients of the powers of a binomial
quantity may he derived from the columns of
what has been since called the arithmetical tri¬
angle. Scheubel a few years afterwards pursued
the same path, yet without adding any thing
material to the science. In this state it made its
way at last into England, where Recorde,1 an
ingenious though unfortunate man, printed the
Cossic Art at London in 1553. He was the
first to propose the sign = for equality, hut
made no other advances; and during a period
of most active enterprise, till the close of the
century, Algebra was not cultivated at all in this
country.
In the meanwhile France continued the pur¬
suit of the mathematical sciences. Ramus had
revived those abstract studies; but Vieta, who
succeeded him, and flourished between the years
1570 and 1600, rose by his numerous discoveries
to much higher eminence; a lawyer by pro¬
fession, yet a man of great learning, and gifted
with profound and original genius, conjoined
with the most indefatigable application. Yieta
introduced the literal or specious Algebra, and
thus rendered its procedure quite general, by
employing the Roman capitals always to denote
numbers, the vowels being appropriated to un¬
known quantities. He likewise traced vari¬
ous distinctions, and framed several significant
terms, which are still retained. But while he
improved the analytical symbols, he greatly ex¬
tended the theory of equations, and cultivated
with success the prolific and important subject
of angular sections.
Flanders at this period equally displayed the
spirit of invention. Stevin of Bruges, born
about the middle of the sixteenth century, was
an engineer eminently skilled both in the theory
and practice of his profession, possessing great
original powers of mind. He reduced Statics
and Hydrostatics to their simplest principles;
and in his Arithmetic or Algebra, printed in
1585, he extended the range of calculation by
several fine improvements and discoveries.
Marking the unknown quantity with a small
circle, he denoted its power by inserting the in¬
dex ; and was enabled, by prefixing a fraction,
to represent also the roots. But, besides improv¬
ing and simplifying the symbols, he enriched
the analytic art by his inventions, and gave a
general method for the resolution of numerical
equations. The works of Stevin were, in 1625,
collected and expanded by his countryman Gi¬
rard,2 a man likewise of most original concep¬
tion, who eagerly promoted the objects of science.
Four years afterwards this editor produced a
small tract exclusively his own, and full of new
and ingenious deductions. He there gave a very
complete theory of equations, distinguishing
them into their several orders, and proving that
they had always a corresponding number of
roots; he showed how these roots are succes¬
sively combined in forming the co-efficients of
the several terms; and finally anticipated the
remarkable rule discovered by Newton, to find
the sums of their different powers. Girard was
possessed of fancy as well as invention; and his
fondness for philological speculation led him to
frame new terms, and to adopt certain modes of
expression which are not always strictly logical.
Though he stated well the contrast of the signs
plus and minus, in reference to mere geometrical
position, he first introduced the very inaccurate
phrases of greater and less than nothing, and began
the unfortunate appellation of impossible quan¬
tities.
It is indeed the reproach of modern analysis
to be clothed in such loose and figurative lan¬
guage, which has created mysticism, paradox,
and misconception. The Algebraist, confident
in the accuracy of his results, whenever they
1 Robert Recorde, born of a good family in Wales, about the year 1506—studied at Oxford, and elected a fellow there in
1531. He embraced the medical profession, but taught mathematics at both universities, and afterwards in London, where
between the years 1551 and 1557 he published several elementary treatises on Geometry and Algebra, with quaint titles.
But Recorde was unfortunate, and having been thrown into the Fleet for debt, he died a prisoner in 1553.
2 Albert Girard published his edition of Stevin’s Arithmetic in 1625, and his own discoveries in Algebra in a small
quarto at Amsterdam in 1629. He died in 1633, and his widow the year after put forth his complete collection of Stevin’s
works.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
593
become significant, hastens through the suc¬
cessive steps to a conclusion, without stopping
to mark the conditions and restrictions impli¬
cated in the problem. This rapidity of opera¬
tion, though in many respects most advanta¬
geous, yet affords less mental exercise than the
cautious and guarded procedure of the Greeks.
It will not be deemed foreign to the scope of this
discourse, to remark, that the signs plus and minus
confer no distinctive character, but merely in¬
dicate that the number to which they are pre¬
fixed, is to be annexed to some other number,
or disjoined from it. The terms additive and
subtractive would express correctly their whole
import. The rules for the involution of those
signs are derived from the consideration of the
properties of compounds, arising from the addi¬
tion or multiplication, for instance, of the bino¬
mials a b and c =1= d. The operation proceeds
by detail; but the real meaning of the notation
may be suspended, and it becomes significant
only after the several members have been recom¬
bined. A number, in strict language, is alto¬
gether devoid of quality, and can be reckoned
neither positive or affirmative, nor negative, which
designations are accidents, and not attributes.1 In
proposing these terms, Yieta did not, therefore,
discriminate the precise nature of the symbols;
and his powerful example has continued to in¬
fect the language and darken the conceptions
of algebraists. A disposition has also prevailed
in modern times, of hastening to general con¬
clusions, although the data be limited or imper¬
fect. Such careless deductions are but awkward¬
ly amended, by the adoption of expedients more
like the fictions of lawyers than the reasonings
of sound logicians. The introduction of equal
and impossible roots of equations served only
to restrict the ordinary rules, which had been
made too general, representing the number of
roots as always equal to the index of the highest
power. The involution or repeated multiplica¬
tion of binomials will produce the successive
orders of expressions, which pass into equations
on the supposition that any one of them vanishes
or has its parts mutually balanced. But the con¬
verse of this proposition will not always hold
true, That every compound expression is re¬
solvable into as many binomial factors as the
index of its highest power signifies. Several forms
even of the quadratic or cubic expressions resist
all binomial decomposition. But it is a property
demonstrated, that every higher expression what¬
ever may be resolved into binomial or trinomial
factors, or into simple or quadratic elements. Im¬
possible quantities are thus merely the symbolical
exhibition of the binomial factors of a quadratic
or trinomial expression which is irreducible; and
1 This distinction might perhaps have satisfied the scruples of the late venerable Baron Maseres, who wrote an express
treatise against the abuse of the Negative Sign, which he came to view with a sort of aversion as the main source of the incor¬
rect language and vague conception so prevalent among algebraists. Though not quite entitled to the rank of a discoverer,
that excellent person deserves a place in the history of Mathematics, for his valuable contributions, and his zealous and un¬
wearied exertions to promote accurate science. He was an able geometer, a profound constitutional lawyer, a man of
sound and most extensive learning, and of very general information. But he possessed the higher qualities of our nature,
and combined liberality of sentiment and unbending integrity with the feelings of a kind, generous, and social disposition.
His Elements of Trigonometry was the completes! treatise in English at the period of its appearance. He afterwards im¬
proved the solutions of cubic and biquadratic equations, and illustrated the methods of approximating to the resolution of
equations in general. But the most important service he rendered to mathematical science consists in reprinting at great
expence, and chiefly for distribution, the series of original authors in logarithms, with ample annotations, in six large
quarto volumes. From his anxiety to be perspicuous, he was apt to fall into the opposite extreme of tiresome prolixity.
The grandfather of Maseres was an officer in the French guards, born in the district of Bearn, and a Hugonot, who, on
the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, retired to Holland, and transferring his services to the Prince of Orange, accompa¬
nied the Preserver of our liberties into England, and fought by his side in Ireland. The grandson having embraced the
profession of the law, was soon after the peace of 1763, probably on account of his intimate acquaintance with French lan¬
guage and customs, appointed Attorney General of Quebec, where he resided till 1770- At leaving his charge, he visited
Boston and New York, while that agitation was fermenting which burst into open revolt. Soon after his return to Eng¬
land, he published in successive volumes his Canadian Freeholder, in which he refuted the despotic maxims of Lord Mans¬
field, and earnestly recommended conciliatory measures with our American colonies. But it was a time of infatuation and
disaster. Maseres by his firmness gave mortal offence to the courtiers, and never obtained any promotion, farther than
the small sinecure office of Cursitor Baron of Exchequer. But fortune had abundantly provided for all his wants, and he
enjoyed unbroken health, and the renovating pleasures of study and social intercourse. The Baron had composed a full
and learned treatise on Life Annuities, and matured a plan for securing small pensions from Government to such of the
poorer classes as should make certain contributions during the vigour of their days. This he embodied in a Bill which
passed the Commons, but was lost in the House of Lords, through the influence of the Bishops, who seem to have consi¬
dered pauperism as a right appendage to their splendid ecclesiastic establishment. He died at Iteigate in May 1824,
at the very advanced age of 93.
DISS. IV. 4 F
594
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the mark of impossibility is removed, either by a
change of the signs, or by a recombination that
restores those factors to their primitive bino¬
mial form. Such notation may indicate the li¬
mits of a problem, and seems to originate in
neglecting the previous statement of the limita¬
tions.1 In reference to Geometry, the impossi¬
ble expressions intimate the transition of the
circle into the equilateral hyperbola, or of arcs
into logarithms.
The publication of the Geometry of Descartes
in 1637 is justly deemed an epoch in the his¬
tory of analytical science. The capacious mind
of the author seized on all the preceding disco¬
veries, and moulded them with his original in¬
ventions into a regular and comprehensive sys¬
tem. He gave rapidity to the writing of Al¬
gebra by the introduction of small characters,
and rendered the distinction more palpable be¬
tween known and unknown quantities, by the
appropriation of the initial and final letters
of the alphabet. He adopted the notation of
the integral exponents or indices, as reduced to
its simplest form by Herigon; and this appa¬
rently very slight improvement led, in the se¬
quel, to the most important results. Though
the index was at first merely a contraction for
the repeating of the same letter in the involution
of powers, yet it acquired a most extensive im¬
port when it came to be treated abstractly as a
number. The prefixing of the subtractive sign
changed the expression into its reciprocal, and
the substituting of a fraction converted it into
the symbol of evolution or the extraction of
roots. Nothing can better illustrate the effi¬
ciency of a systematic notation, as an instru¬
ment for enabling the intellect to'pursue and
generalize its deductions, than the successive
modifications which analogy suggested in the
marking of exponents, during the short period
from Descartes to Newton.
But the French philosopher effected a revolu¬
tion in scientific procedure, by applying (what
his countryman Yieta had only partially at¬
tempted before) the symbols and calculations of
Algebra to the solution of geometrical problems.
By referring curve lines to co-ordinates or mu¬
tual perpendiculars, he expressed their relations
by equations, of which he distinguished the rank
and composition. He showed that a biquad¬
ratic equation is, by the help of indeterminate
co-efficients, resolved into two quadratics, and
may be constructed by combining a circle with
a conic section. The construction of a cubic
equation was somewhat simpler, though derived
from the same principles. But Descartes pro¬
ceeded still farther, and represented what are
now called curves of double curvature, by re¬
ducing them, by a series of perpendiculars, to
some plane of projection. These were all im¬
portant advances in mathematical speculation.
Attempts have been made to apply the Car¬
tesian method even to Elementary Geometry,
which is in fact to convert a clear and simple
train of reasoning into a sort of hard mechanical
process of calculation. This change, were it at¬
tainable, would be the reverse of an improve¬
ment. It would extinguish that fine study which
affords the best exercise and discipline of the in¬
tellectual powers. The wonderful dexterity and
readiness which men of such teeming invention
as the Bernoullis, Euler, and Lagrange gene¬
rally displayed in managing algebraic analysis,
appear to have seduced their admirers into an
over-estimate of its real advantages. The con¬
structions derived from algebra very seldom reach
the purity and elegant simplicity of the geome¬
trical methods. In those cases where Geometry
1 A very simple problem will illustrate this: Suppose it were required, from a given point, to draw a tangent to a
given circle. The construction would be, to join the centre with the given point, and upon the connecting line describe
a circle to cut the former m the points of contact. It is evident, that if the given point occupied the extremity ot ie
diameter, there would be only one point of contact; and if it lay within the circle,, there could be none. I^18
tion hence intimates sufficiently the conditions of the problem; and yet it fails in the case where the circle descnbe
merges in the given point, and consequently ceases to determine the position of the tangent. Ihe algebraical solution,
if rightly interpreted, gives similar information. Let r denote the radius of the given circle, and a the distance from
its centre to the given point; then */ a1 — r2 Avill express the length of the tangent, which only requires to be inflected
to the given circumference. But if the given point fall on that circumference, then a = r and the origin and termination
of the tangent coincide, leaving its position undetermined. Again, if the given point lie within the circle, a will be less l iaIJ
r, and consequently the subtractive portion r2 will predominate over the other portion a2, and the compound radica
J a2 — r2 become impossible. It serves to show, however, that by a change of condition the problem would be rendered
soluble.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
595
is most felicitous, they betray the features of a
clumsy and artificial combination. The applica¬
tion of Algebra should therefore be reserved for
the most arduous and complicated problems in
the Higher Geometry.
In the latter part of the seventeenth, and du¬
ring the course of the eighteenth century, Al¬
gebra still continued to advance; and though it
underwent no revolution, it acquired greater
perfection in all its details. The construction
of cubic and biquadratic equations, which Des¬
cartes had effected by combining a circle with a
parabola, was afterwards improved; but Newton
proposed the Conchoid as the curve best adapted
for the practical solution of such problems.
Leibnitz succeeded in conquering the irreducible
case of Cardan, by a bold application of the bi¬
nomial theorem, having converted the cubic
roots of the compound expressions into two se¬
ries, with alternate imaginary terms, which are
extinguished by their conjunction. In examin¬
ing generally the nature of cubic equations, their
solution came afterwards to be referred to the
trisection of a Circular or Hyperbolic Sector, and
was therefore accomplished by the application
of a table either of Sines or of Logarithms. The
theory of the Section of Angles and of Ratios,
founded by the ingenuity of Cotes, furnished a
clue to the resolution of certain forms of the
Higher Equations. But though Euler solved
biquadratics in a different way from that of
Descartes, all attempts to find directly the roots
of the fifth and the superior orders of equations
had totally failed. It became necessary therefore
to have recourse to the approximative methods
of resolving equations. Successive improve¬
ments in the process of calculation were made
by Raphson, Halley, Lagny, and Taylor; so
that little seemed wanting for any practical end.
During the last century likewise the method
of series, so various and extensive in its applica¬
tion, was cultivated with the greatest success.
About the years 1714 and 1718, Montmort1 and
James Bernoulli employed it in the investiga¬
tion of the Laws of Chance. But De Moivre,2 a
Frencli refugee, and a man of learning and pro¬
found science, carried these researches much
farther, having devoted his time professionally
to the calculation of probabilities, and of the
values of life-annuities. In 1730, he published
an original work, which, besides other useful in¬
ventions, explained the properties of a Recurring
Series, that always repeats the same succession
of co-efficients in distinct sequences. About
the same time, Stirling3 brought out a complete
treatise on Series, in which he advanced by a
different road to consider their convergence, in¬
terpolation, and summation. This ingenious
1 A man of some rank, and an able mathematician, born in 1678 at Paris, where he died in 1719.
2 Abraham De Moivre, born in 1667 at Vitri in Champagne. Eeinga Protestant, he was obliged at the age of eighteen
to seek shelter m England after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Having showzi an early taste for Mathematics he
continued to prosecute the study as a profession. Pie supported himself creditably in exile, by giving lessons and reading
public lectures. His analytical discoveries extended his fame, and his good conduct insured him respect. He embraced
the Newtonian Philosophy, and made some improvements on it. He generalized Cotes’ famous theorem of the section of
a circle, but turned his attention chiefly to the method of series, which he applied successfully to the doctrine of annuities
and chances. After his reputation for such calculations had been established, it is said that he spent a great part of the
day at Slaughter’s Coffee-House, in St Martin’s Lane, where he was ready to answer any question of "that nature pro¬
pounded to him, for the fee of one guinea. His principal work on the Doctrine of Chances was published in 1738, but the en
larged and improved edition bears date 1756. De Moivre lived to a great age, but in his advanced years he was subject to
obstinate fits of sleeping, and in that torpid state he remained for at least several weeks, till death closed the scene in
November 1754.
3 James Stirling, born about the year 1690 in Stirlingshire, where his father owned a small property. He was educated
at Glasgow, and sent by that University on Snell’s Foundation to Baliol College in Oxford. During his retreat there
he applied himself so diligently to the study of Mathematics, that, he printed in 1717 a small tract on Lines of the Third
Order, with new solutions of one or two difficult problems by the fluxionary calculus. He then repaired to London, and
becoming acquainted with the Venetian Minister, he accepted an invitation to settle at Venice, where he resided several
years, and taught Mathematics. The vicinity of Padua gave him an opportunity of acquiring the friendship of Nicholas Ber¬
noulli, nephew of the two elder Bernoullis, who was Mathematical professor in that University. During his stay at Venice,
Stirling contrived to gain access to the manufacture of glass plates, and escaping at some personal risk, he is said to have
transferred the secret to England. He now conducted a mathematical or nautical school on Tower Hill, while he maintained
a correspondence with the philosophers both abroad and at home. Here he published his great work on the Differential Me.
thod and Series in 1730. After toiling in his academy several years, he was induced to leave London, and undertake the
direction of the Mines at Leadhills in Scotland. In that elevated district near Sanquhar he resided during the rest of
his life, and by his skill and activity he greatly improved the operations of extracting the lead ore. He now held a profitable
employment, but his high mathematical fame would have secured him the honour of succeeding Maclaurinin 1746, if he had
not at that unhappy period been tainted with Jacobite principles. In his latter years he seems to have confined his attention
to practical concerns, and died at Leadhills in 1772.
596
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
mathematician followed no general procedure,
but showed great felicity and address in tians-
forming one series into another. The subject
was at different times partially extended by
Simpson, Maclaurin, Landen, Lorgna, Hutton,
Waring, Pfaff, and Kramp. Euler handled Se¬
ries with his usual fulness, perspicuity, and pe¬
netration ; and yet Lagrange and Laplace, in
surveying that field, have gleaned fresh disco¬
veries, which the latter of these illustrious men
applied most happily to develope the Theory of
Probabilities.
The composition of equations was at the same
time investigated with more address and preci¬
sion. The rule for distinguishing the positive
and negative roots from the alternating signs,
which Descartes had merely stated, now received
a strict demonstration by Segner. The mode
of finding the impossible roots, or rather the
quadratic factors, of an equation, which INewton
probably had inferred from mere induction, was
traced by Maclaurin to its real source. D’Alem¬
bert proved that every irrational expression is
reducible to the form A2 =+= V — B2; or, in other
words, that every compound expression of a
higher order may be resolved either into simple
or quadratic factors. This is the most import¬
ant conclusion perhaps relating to the nature of
equations. But the general theory was never
so clearly and completely discussed as by Gauss,
in a small work published by him in 1779.
Various methods, and several of them elegant,
have been proposed by Euler and others for
simplifying and expediting the approximation
to the roots of equations. When a question in¬
volved the powers and products of more than
one unknown quantity, it exercised the skill of
algebraists to separate them; but Bezout1 has
brought the mode of this elimination into a
regular system, which removes all the difficul¬
ties. Among the promoters of Algebraical
Science may be ranked our countryman Dr
Waring,2 a profound analyst, but unfortunately
an obscure and confused writer. His Miscel¬
lanea Analytica and other detached pieces dis¬
cover uncommon penetration and originality of
conception, and though neglected at home, they
have, notwithstanding their repulsive form, been
duly appreciated by the great mathematicians
on the Continent.
The latest improvement that Algebra has
received consists in the Combinatorial Analysis,
which may be viewed as an important extension
of the principles of the binomial theorem. Vieta
traced the rudiments of the doctrine, which was
successively enlarged by Mersenne, Guldinus,
Schooten, Pascal, Wallis, James Bernoulli,
De Moivre, and Euler. But it has received its
greatest expansion in Germany, and chiefly
from the laborious and persevering researches
of Hindenburg, who first published a tract on
this subject in 1779, and resumed the discussion
in the years 1793, 1794, and 1795. He was
followed in the same line of investigation by
Burckhardt, Ho the, De Prassi, and Pfaff; and
this interesting branch of analysis now forms a
part of the algebraical course pursued in the Ger¬
man States. It throws much light on the theory
of equations, renders more general the method of
series, and facilitates the calculation of chances.
In the application of Algebra to Geometry,
Euler, pursuing the route marked out in 1727
by Frederick Mayer, has given such extension
to the properties of Angular Sections, as to cre¬
ate almost a new science, bearing the appellation
of the Arithmetic of Series. Vieta prepared the
1 Stephen Bezout, born at Nemours on the 31st March 1730_led accidentally to study of Geometry, and fired
by the perusal of the Eloges of Fontenelle. Having soon distinguished himself by proficiency in Mathematical he ,
he was appointed Examiner to the Navy in 1763, and Examiner of the Artillery Department 1768. In the discharge ot his
duty in those offices, he gained the love and respect of the youth by his impartiality, kindness, and solicitude lor their au
vancement. He published The General Theory of Equations in 1779, and gave further proofs of his original inventive powe
in other occasional Memoirs. But he has owed his celebrity chiefly to the excellent Course of Mathematics compiled
professional education, which is highly esteemed and generally adopted on the Continent. Ihe constitution o
prematurely exhausted, and he died of a malignant fever on the 27th of September 1783. . .
2 Edward Waring, born near Shrewsbury in 1736. He studied at Cambridge, where he distinguished himse s
in abstruse calculations, that he was elected, after a hard contest, Lucasian professor of Mathematics ®nuarL
He led the life of a recluse student, and though a man of great worth, he was unfitted by his extreme aitndence
general intercourse of society. His latter years appear to have been spent at his place of nativity, where he ie
15th August 1798. Waring had not entirely confined his application to mathematical research ; he printed a me aP ,
tract of considerable merit, which was distributed among his friends; and it deserves mention, that he there is i j
brought forward the philosophical view of Causation which is now very generally embraced.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
597
way, and the Bernoullis had advanced far in the
research, hut it was reserved for their great dis¬
ciple to expand and convert their conclusions
into a compact hody of doctrine. This im¬
portant branch of Analysis has continued to
be much cultivated in Germany, under the
more expressive name of Goniometry, which was
first applied by Lagny in the Parisian Transac¬
tions for 1724, to an ingenious method proposed
by him for measuring angles.1 2 3 Pfaff has lately
enlarged it with the properties of the multiple
tangents, and his countryman Mollweide has
likewise made some valuable additions. The
store of formula now collected is of the utmost
utility in transforming and reducing into prac¬
tical operation the different series adopted by
Physical Astronomy.a
Algebra has also been applied with advantage to
Goniometry generally, as comprehending the so¬
lution of the cases both in Plane and Spherical Tri¬
gonometry. This was early attempted by Girard,
but carried to its completion by Euler and La¬
grange. Some concise and elegant formulae have
been deduced, which facilitate and diversify the
practice of computation. In short, if Algebx-a
were purged of the vitious language and inaccu¬
rate conceptions that pervade it, and which were
early introduced by the confidence of rapid and
careless calculators, it might at last claim the
character of a perfect science.
The number of elementary treatises of Algebra
which have been produced in various languages
during the currency of the eighteenth century,
appears quite incredible. They are almost ephe¬
meral, and assume every feature and dimension,
superficial or profound, from the size of a primer
to the magnitude of a lexicon. A very few of
those works claim the highest praise, and may
retain their hold of education. The Algebra
of Euler is in various respects a most remark¬
able production. That illustrious analyst, when
totally deprived of sight in his advanced age,
dictated it in the German language to a young
domestic, whom he trained for an amanuensis.
He was obliged therefore to be plain, distinct,
and perspicuous; and these qualities he com¬
bined with richness of invention. The second
volume had an air of originality, which made
it peculiarly interesting. It treated of Diophan-
tine Problems, and the resolution of Indetermin¬
ate Equations,5 and was afterwards expanded in
the French version by the masterly annotations
of Lagrange. In our own language, Maclau-
rin’s Elements of Algebra^ though a posthumous
work, is perhaps the ablest on the whole, and
the most complete. The bulky volumes of Dr
Sanderson,4 which were likewise printed after
the death of the author, are commendable chief¬
ly as the production of an ingenious person,
afflicted from infancy with the calamity of total
blindness; they have little claims to depth, ori¬
ginality, or logical precision, but possess the
merit of being eminently clear, methodical, and
copious even to diffusion. The Algebra of
Thomas Simpson is a work of an opposite de¬
scription—brief, condensed, and marked with
traits of invention. Passing over the numerous
smaller treatises which have run through the
schools, the compilation of Emerson5 deserves
notice. It forms part of the Cyclomathesis, or
1 This consists in performing by the help of compasses a repeated decomposition, similar to what is effected in the re¬
duction of a common to a continued fraction. There being in practice generally a balance of errors, the numerical relation
hence derived approximates to great precision. The method may be applied to the comparison either of arcs or of straight
lines.
2 The collection of formula; by Hirsch deserves particular commendation.
3 A very simple and regular method of solving such questions is given in the second volume of the Transactions of the
Royal Society of Edinburgh.
* Nicholas Sanderson, born at Thurleston in Yorkshire in 1682. When only twelve months old, he lost both eye¬
balls by small-pox ; but showing early capacity, he was sent to the free-school at Penniston, where he made great profi¬
ciency in the knowledge of the classics, and soon understood the works of the ancient Geometers when read to him in the ori¬
ginal Greek. He afterwards profited by the kind instructions of some mathematical friends, and found himself so far ad¬
vanced in science, that at the age of 25 he repaired to Cambridge, and established his fame in that university by the
warmth and splendour of his lectures on the Newtonian Philosophy. He was encouraged by the gentleness of Whiston,
who saw no rival; and, on the ejection of that amiable enthusiast in 1711 for heresy or dogmatism, succeeded to the Lu¬
casian Professorship of Mathematics, the duties of which he continued henceforth to perform with zeal and assiduity. The
faculties of touch and hearing he possessed in a wonderful degree ; and he was a lively companion, breathing a free and
open disposition. But sedentary habits impaired his vigorous constitution, and he died of a mortification in his limbs on
the 19th of April 1739.
5 William Emerson, born in June 1701 at Hurworth, a village near Darlington—the son of a schoolmaster, who taught
him Mathematics, and left him a small property, which he occupied and cultivated. He was a person of strong intellect
598
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
series of elementary worlcs in all the depart¬
ments of Mathematics and Mechanical Philoso¬
phy, executed with ability by that singular man;
exhibiting a mass of valuable matter, clothed in
a slovenly style, and digested without method,
or any regard to taste or elegance. Nothing is
more wanted for the purpose of education than
a classical treatise on Algebra, which, avoiding
all vague terms and hasty analogies, should un¬
fold the principles with simplicity and rigid
accuracy, and follow the train of induction with
close and philosophical circumspection.
4. THE HIGHER CALCULUS.
Leibnitz, at his death, left the Calculus which
he had framed in a most flourishing condition.
The superiority of its algorithm, joined to the
ardour of his disciples and successors the Ber-
noullis, gave it the complete possession of the
Continent. But in England, the Method of
Fluxions, now greatly in arrear, was cultivated
only by a very few aspirants. Its inventor had
vacillated about the notation he should adopt, and
the unfortunate marking by points appeared the
first time in one of the volumes of Dr Wallis’
works, printed in 1699.1 Newton had published
nothing separately on the subject, till the Tract on
Fluxions, drawn from the recesses of his closet,
made its appearance in 1704; which, though
full of ingenuity, was then decidedly imperfect
and insufficient. But Cotes9 and Taylor3 labour¬
ed successfully in extending the analytical dis¬
coveries of their great master. The former, one
of the brightest mathematicians whom England
has produced, died at an early age, after achiev¬
ing, however, some fine analytical discoveries.
Besides producing thebeautiful geometrical theo¬
rem on which is founded the application of Bino¬
mial Factors, he constructed an ample Table of
Fluents or Integrals, which were solved by the
decomposition of fractions, by Logarithms or
Circular Arcs. Other ingenious problems are in¬
troduced in his posthumous volume entitled LTar-
monia Mensurarum, published in 1722 by his rela¬
tive and successor Dr Smith; but for want of
the author’s revision, this profound tract is un¬
luckily so concise and obscure as to need a com¬
mentary. Some of the propositions were neat¬
ly demonstrated by John Bernoulli; but De
Moivre considerably extended the doctrine, which
was afterwards reduced into a systematic form
by Walmesley.
Dr Brook Taylor was a man of rich invention
and elegant accomplishments, who supported
with dignity the reputation of English science.
He was indeed our only mathematician that,
and considerable talent of invention ; but affected singularity, and indulged coarse boorish habits. Having a mechanical
turn, he constructed his own instruments, and delineated all the figures he wanted. His best work, perhaps, was the trea¬
tise of Increments, but his System of Mechanics has had the greatest currency among all ranks of students. In the de¬
cline of life he suffered much from the cruel attacks of gravel, and died after a lingering illness on the 20th May 1782.
1 The earliest mode used by Newton for denoting a Fluxion seems to have been a zero prefixed to the variable quantity.
Thus, the fluxion of xn was written n xn~1 ox. It is evident therefore that the great inventor must have then had nearly
the same conception of the origin of Infinitesimals as his rival Leibnitz.
* Roger Cotes, born July io, 1682, at Burbach in Leicestershire, of which his father was rector. Having shown an
early and decided inclination to Mathematics, he was encouraged by his uncle, the Itev. John Smith, who carried the boy
to his house in Lincolnshire, and carefully instructed him in the principles of science. Hence he removed to St Paul’s
school, where he made great progress in classical attainments, but still found leisure to cultivate his favourite studies.
Thus accomplished, he was sent to Trinity College at Cambridge, and advanced through all the gradations with unrivalled
distinction. In January 1706, he was elected unanimously to the chair of Astronomy and Experimental Philosophy,
which had been just founded by Archdeacon Plume. He took orders in 1713, and at the desire of Dr Bentley superin¬
tended the printing of the second edition of the Principia, to which he furnished a learned and ingenious preface. His
genius and uncommon talents had raised the highest expectations, when a putrid fever snatched him away in the full tide
of vigour, on the 5th of June 1716. Newton in his latter days used often to exclaim with a modest feeling of regret, “ If Cotes
had lived we should have known something.” This very promising philosopher was perhaps rather fastidious; for, except a
short but ingenious essay on Logarithms, he produced nothing of decided importance during his lifetime. The papers left
by him in an imperfect and unfinished state were collected and published with some annotations by his cousin and succes¬
sor Dr Robert Smith.
3 Born in affluent circumstances at Edmonton in Middlesex in 1685; studied at Cambridge, where he distinguished
himself, and passed through the successive gradations with the greatest applause. The mathematical and physical sciences
were his favourite pursuits, but he embraced general learning and cultivated the fine arts, being especially fond of paint¬
ing and music. Fortune enabled him to indulge his taste. He held the office of’ Secretary to the Royal Society for a
few years, and afterwards visited the Continent. His mind was most acute and inventive; but, though methodical on the
whole, he was at no pains to unfold his original conceptions. Fie died at an early age in 1731.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
599
after the retreat of Newton, could safely enter
the lists with the Bernoullis. His most original
work, the Methodus Incrementorum, published in
1715, unfolded the elements of the increase and
decrease of a variable quantity or function. It
was a fine extension of the Differential or Flux¬
ionary Calculus, and constituted a new and im¬
portant branch of the Higher Analysis, which
has since received an appropriate algorithm, and
acquired the appellation of Finite Differences.
The Method of Increments was applied to the
summation of series, ^nd a variety of difficult
problems, of which it afforded easy and rapid so-
1 utions. It furnished the first investigation of the
motions of a vibrating cord, showing that the
harmonic curve is a Trochoid or Prolate Cycloid.
Among other improvements, it contained the cele¬
brated theorem for the expansion of a magni¬
tude, arising from the combination of its succes¬
sive orders of differentials, which has deserved¬
ly retained the name of its ingenious author.
This elegant formula is of extensive use in al¬
most every analytical inquiry, and even performs
the inverse process of Fluxions, by exhibiting in
many cases at once the resulting fluent or integral.
But the notation employed was imperfect, con¬
sisting merely of accents instead of points; and
the Tract, like other works of Taylor, affected
a degree of brevity which borders on obscuri¬
ty. It was therefore elucidated by Nicole, an
eminent French mathematician, in a series of
able dissertations, between the years 1717 and
1727. The Taylorian Theorem itself has been
successively modified, transformed, and extend¬
ed by Maclaurin, Lagrange, and Laplace, whose
names are attached to their several formulae.
The Italian mathematicians contributed ma¬
terially to the progress of the Higher Calculus.
The Integration of a class of Differential Equa¬
tions was proposed by Count Riccati, and solved
in different ways by himself and the sons and
nephews of the first Bernoullis. Manfredi1 in
1707 gave a skilful solution of differential equa¬
tions of the first degree; and in 1722, Vincent,
the son of James Riccati, pursued likewise the
same road. A curious kind of problems was
started by Fagnano,2 another Italian Count, to
determine those Elliptical or Hyperbolic Arcs,
which have their difference expressed by an
algebraical quantity. This led Euler, in 1756,
to invent a very comprehensive method of deter¬
mining particular integrals, that Lagrange im¬
proved in 1766 and 1769, and which he himself
again simplified in 1778. Our ingenious coun¬
tryman Landen has chanced to fall into a simi¬
lar train, having in 1775 converted the formula
for the rectification of the Hyperbola into an¬
other which includes two arcs of an Ellipse, to¬
gether with an algebraical quantity. The rec¬
tification of the Ellipse has been since improved
by Legendre and Ivory.
To obtain the differential of any integral ex¬
pression, is always practicable ; the great diffi¬
culty consists in reversing the problem, and find¬
ing the integral which corresponds to a given
differential equation. Such equation must be
rendered complete before the integration is ef¬
fected. It was hence a question of much im¬
portance, to save unavailing efforts, by deter¬
mining the conditions necessarily required for
integration. Euler, as usual, was the first to
discover the rule in 1736; but, only three years
afterwards, it was without any communication
produced by Fontaine and Clairaut. At a later
period, Euler extended the conditions of integra-
bility to the higher orders of Differential Equa¬
tions, which Condorcet demonstrated with equal
simplicity and elegance.
The Modern Analysis thus constantly advan¬
cing, received a capital extension about the middle
of the last century, by what is termed the Cal¬
culus of Partial Differences^ which applies witli
singular felicity to the solution of the most ardu¬
ous and recondite physical problems. It would
be difficult to communicate any distinct concep¬
tion of this subtle doctrine to the uninitiated,
but the object proposed may be stated generally
as, the method of finding the function of several
1 Born at Bologna in 1674—appointed professor of Mathematics there in 1698, and astronomer to the Institute of Bo¬
logna in 171 !• He died in 1789, having produced several excellent works, in which his taste, learning, and science ap¬
pear conspicuous.
2 Born about 1690 at Senegaglia in the Roman State, where he died in 1760. His mathematical researches were pub¬
lished in two volumes quarto, at Tesaro, in 1750. He devoted much attention to the remarkable properties of the curves
called Lemniscata.
f)00
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
variable quantities, from the relation merely of
the Differential Co-efficients contained in their
Complete Differential. The first specimen of
this sort of Integration was given by Euler in
1734; but D’Alembert expanded the process in
his Discourse on the General Cause of Jl inds,
which appeared in 1749. It was likewise em¬
ployed by both these illustrious mathematicians
in the rigorous solution of the problem of the
vibrating musical string, the position of any
point in the harmonic curve depending evidently
on the interval of time, as well as on the relation
between the absciss and ordinate. But Euler
left nothing unfinished. In 1762 he resumed the
subject of Partial Differences, and gave a com¬
plete explication of its principles, embodying the
mode of calculation by an appropriate Algo¬
rithm, in a memoir of the Petersburg Acts, en¬
titled, Investigatio functionum ex data differentia-
lium conditione. But still further progress was
made by him in the third volume of his immor¬
tal work on the Differential and Integral Cal¬
culus, which came out in 1770. Euler, having
then advanced to differential equations of the
second order, digested the whole doctrine of
Partial Differences into a clear and systematic
form. Yet several important additions and im¬
provements have been since contributed to this
intricate subject by Lagrange and Laplace, by
Nieuport and Trembley.
The last great accession to the Higher Analy¬
sis, and somewhat resembling the method of.
Partial Differences, is the Calculus of Variations.
Of this fine theory, the first trace was shown by
the rapid genius of Leibnitz, in his mode of dif¬
ferentiating a curve whose equation itself is sup¬
posed to undergo the minutest alteration. The
controversies of the Bernoullis concerning Isope¬
rimeters and Lines of the Swiftest Descent, aug¬
mented greatly the various resources of that kind
of Analysis. But Euler, combining their dis¬
coveries, produced a new and direct mode of find¬
ing such Maxima and Minima, and compressed
the solutions into a systematic form, in a distinct
treatise published at Lausanne in 1744. This
elaborate performance led the way for the simp¬
ler and most elegant and comprehensive doctrine
created by the early genius of Lagrange, and
invested by him with a commodious notation.
Euler, who was far superior to any feeling of
jealousy, readily embraced this improvement,
and bestowed on it the denomination of the Cal¬
culus of Variations, of which he explained tire
principles and application, after the most com¬
plete manner, in a tract appended to the third
volume of his great work. The distinction be¬
tween Differentials and Variations is rather
subtle, yet may be easily conceived by consid¬
ering the nature of the Parabola. When an
ordinate shifts into a proximate position, both
it and the corresponding absciss acquire Differ¬
entials ; but if the Parameter suffer the minut¬
est alteration, the whole trace of the curve will
vary, and the infinitesimal mutation which the
ordinate thence undergoes is termed its Varia¬
tion. The algorithm adopted to denote Varia¬
tions consists of the Greek letters instead of the
Roman or Italic, which have been appropriated
to the ordinary Differentials. The modes of In¬
tegration used in both forms are fortunately
convertible.
The Integration of Differential Equations has
at length, perhaps, nearly attained that degree
of perfection of which it is susceptible. A
multitude of expedients are devised for effecting
the process in particular cases, but no general
and direct method has been yet found. To inte¬
grate a differential equation of the first order
composed of two variable quantities, is the pro¬
blem originally known by the title of the Inverse
Method of Tangents, and is commonly solved by
the separation of the indeterminate members,
which brings it to a question of Qiiadratures.
Some equations consist of parts which, though
not separately integrable, will yet admit of inte¬
gration when combined. Others are integrated
by the inverse method of factors; but the pro¬
cess by successive approximations may be re¬
garded as in most cases the preferable mode.
The skill of the analyst is chiefly displayed in
the evolution of series the most converging.
Of the Theory of the Infinitesimal Calculus,
various modifications have been offered during
the course of the eighteenth century, which
help to elucidate the subject by their contrast,
and may be regarded as fine speculations, though
they should lead to no material improvements in
the practice. The notion of flowing quantities,
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
601
first proposed by Newton, and from which he
framed the terms Fluxions and Fluents, appears,
on the whole, very clear and satisfactory; nor
should the metaphysical objection of introducing
ideas of motion into Geometry have much weight.
Maclaurin was induced, however, by such cavil¬
ling, to devote half a volume to an able but
superfluous discussion of this question. As a re¬
finement on the ancient process of Exhaustions,
the noted method of Prime and Ultimate Ratios,
or of the Relations of Vanishing or Evanescent
Quantities, which Newton preferred in the Prin-
cipia, deserves the highest praise for accuracy of
conception. It has been justly commended by
D’Alembert, who expounded it copiously, and
adopted it as the basis of the Higher Calculus.
The same doctrine was likewise elucidated by
our acute countryman Robins,1 who did not
scruple to seize the occasion of making a coarse
attack on the great Euler. Landen,2 one of
those men so frequent in England whose talents
surmount their narrow education, produced, in
1758, a new form of the Fluxionary Calculus,
under the title of Residual Analysis, which,
though framed with little elegance, may be
deemed, on the whole, an improvement on the
method of ultimate ratios.3 To confer more
consequence on his innovation, he contrived
likewise a set of symbols, and applied his algo¬
rithm to the solution of different problems. But
it never obtained any currency, and soon fell
into oblivion.
The method of Analytical or Derivative Func¬
tions, which has since acquired such celebrity,
was darkly anticipated by Dr Waring, one of
the profoundest but most obscure of algebraical
writers. This elegant theory was concisely
sketched by Lagrange in 1772, and enlarged
thirty years afterwards into a distinct work ; the
same subject having been treated very fully and
somewhat differently by Arbogast in 1800. It
is grounded chiefly on the inversion of Taylor’s
theorem, the co-efficients of the several terms of
a Derived or Expanded Function involving the
successive orders of its Differentials. But La¬
grange deduces the formula from considerations
purely analytical, and endeavours thence to erect
a science on strict logical principles, entirely
disengaged from ideas of Infinitesimals or of
Vanishing Ratios. It may however be doubt¬
ed whether, with all his ingenuity, he has at¬
tained that object, or gained, indeed, any real
advantage. A mathematician so deeply imbued
as that sublime genius with the spirit of calcu¬
lation, would almost spontaneously regard a pro¬
cess of analysis in the same light as a train of
legitimate reasoning. However satisfactory may
seem the origin of Derivative Functions, if we
examine it closely, we shall probably find the
demonstration to rest merely on the strength of
analogy, which surely is not the most conclusive
sort of argument. But though the method of
Derivations should not possess that logical supe¬
riority over the Fluxionary or Differential Calcu-
1 Benjamin Robins, born of Quaker parents at Bath in 1707- He discovered early and powerful talents, which he im¬
proved with intense ardour, and soon emancipated himself from the trammels of his cold and narrow sect. Mathematics were
his favourite study, but he enriched his mind by a course of extensive reading and the pursuit of general information. He
became a successful teacher of those sciences in London, and turned his attention to their practical application. Having
cultivated also the art of wilting, he distinguished himself by several controversial pieces in science, and even assisted by
his pen the opposition to Walpole’s administration. He was now so well known as a clever writer as to be employed in
correcting Walter’s account of Anson’s Voyage round the World; but finding the performance very poor, he re-composed
the whole. The appearance of this celebrated work in 1748 secured the patronage of the Admiral, and he was appointed
Engineer General to the East India Company. He sailed from England at Christmas 1749, and on his arrival in India
began immediately the fortifications at Madras ; but he fell a sacrifice to that baneful climate on the 29th July 1751. His
various mathematical works are stamped with originality of conception, and composed in a clear, neat, and forcible style.
2 John Landen, born at Peakirk in Northamptonshire in January 1719. Bred up to business, he showed an early talent
for Mathematics, which he strenuously cultivated at his leisure hours. In 1782 he was appointed agent to Earl Eitz-
william, an employment which he held' till within two years of his death. Besides his separate publications, he communi¬
cated to the Royal Society, at different times, valuable papers on the most difficult parts of mathematical and physical
science, all of them distinguished by depth, ingenuity, and powerful invention. It is only to be regretted that, perhaps
for want of the collision of society', he indulged a dogmatic and pugnacious temper. He died near his native spot on the
15th of January 1790.
3 An example will show how Landen’s operation might be simplified. Let it be required to find the ratio of the dif-
vn
ferential of x to that of xn. Assume v a proximate value or state of the variable x; then by division
+ a" - * w ....x - Iun-24-t)n-1, the number of terms being n. But it is evident that the closer x comes to v, the nearer
will each of these terms approximate to a'n-1. Wherefore, at the coincidence of x with v, the differential of a." divided by
the differential of x is xn-1, and consequently d xn = x*-1 d x.
DISS. IV.
4 o
602
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
lus which its author fondly supposed, yet is the
invention entitled to the highest praise for its
beautiful perspicuity and its ready and most ex¬
tensive application. We have only to regret
that it has required a new system of characters,
when the ordinary notation has become so fa¬
miliar, and attained so great perfection. Such
mutations, like the diversity of languages, may
be deemed a serious evil, since they divert the
attention to the mere accessaries of learning,
and retard or obstruct the acquisition of real
knowledge.1
SECTION II.
APPLICATE SCIENCE.
1. DYNAMICS.
This most important science maybe considered
as grounded on the Composition of Forces. Al¬
though the ancients could not fail to remark
that the effect of two oblique forces is equiva¬
lent to the action of some intermediate force, yet
the principle in its simplest form was first dis¬
tinctly stated, after the revival of letters, by the
famous painter Leonardo da Vinci,2 who being
likewise a skilful mechanic and engineer, was
acquainted at that early period with the right
mode of conducting experimental research. He
showed the action of two perpendicular forces
against a point to he the same as what is de¬
noted by the diagonal of a rectangle, of which
they represent the sides. It would hence be
easy to derive the general proposition of oblique
forces; but this beautiful property was suffered
to remain buried amidst an unpublished chaos
of ingenious hints and multifarious projects.
Near a century more elapsed, till it was re-dis¬
covered in its full extent by Stevinus, a Flemish
engineer, who applied it successfully to the ex¬
plication of the common mechanical powers.
About the same time, Galileo, exploring the ac¬
celeration of falling bodies, employed the prin¬
ciple of the composition of forces in determining
the paths described by Projectiles. Another cen¬
tury nearly passed away before Huygens enrich-
1 As an introduction to this study, the essay of Robins on Prime and Ultimate Ratio may be read with profit. A very clear
exposition of the principles will be found in the Principiorum Calculi Differentialis ct Integralis Expositio Elemcntaria, a thin
quarto published by L’Huillier of Geneva, at Tubingen, in 1795. Rut the most complete and perspicuous treatise of
the Higher Analysis unquestionably is Euler’s great work, comprised in seven volumes quarto, printed at different
times between the years 1740 and 1797, arid consisting of the lutroductio ad Analyses Infinitorum in two volumes, one
volume of the Calculus Diffcrentialis, three volumes of the Calculus Integralis, to which have been added two posthu¬
mous volumes. The treatise composed in Italian in two small quarto volumes, by the late Professor Paoli, though
entitled onlv Elements of Algelra, is of a more comprehensive import, and remarkably clear and elegant. The German
language has very full and able articles on every part of the Higher Calculus, in Klugel’s Mathematical Dictionary.
The large French work of Lacroix is valuable for its contents, but deficient in clearness and elegance. His Abridge¬
ment seems very obscure and unsatisfactory. The neatest and most concise treatise on the Higher Calculus in the
French language is that of Bossut, in two octavo volumes. In English, the Treatise of Fluxions by Simpson may still
be studied with profit. Of Maclaurin’s large work, the first volume contains an excellent account of the ancient method of
Exhaustions, and the second volume is valuable for its physical disquisitions. Our later publications on Fluxions are nu¬
merous, but have not acquired such a character as might entitle them to any particular notice.
2 So called from the name of the place where he was born near Florence in 1452, being the natural son of a notary.
Bred in an age and country so transcendant in art, he soon distinguished himself by originality of conception, harmony of
design, and elegance of execution. But having likewise ardently cultivated the Mechanical Sciences, he was appointed
director of an Academy of Architecture and Engineering by the Duke of Milan, in which capacity he constructed the
canal of Mortesana, to supply that city with water. But the political convulsions of that period drove him back to Florence,
where he resumed his former profession. Near the close of his days he accepted from Francis I. an invitation to France,
where he languished a few months, and expired in the arms of that monarch in 1520. His numerous sketches of projects and
machines, with his observations (written backwards), after having been carried to Paris, are now deposited in the Ambrosi¬
an Library at Milan, or among the collections at Florence. A digested abstract of these would form a curious monu¬
ment.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
G03
ed DjTiamics with his elegant theorems of the
measure of Centrifugal Force in the case of cir¬
cular revolutions. But Newton had already,
and without receiving any communication, ex¬
tended Centrifugal Forces to curve lines in
general, and had thence deduced the elliptical
orbits of the planets. The Dutch philosopher
gave a further expansion to Dynamics, by his
beautiful theory of the oscillation of pendulums.
John Bernoulli1 2 simplified the science of Equi¬
librium or Statics, by proposing the principle of
Virtual Velocities, which Varignon adapted to
the several mechanical powers. This consists
in the fundamental property, that any system at
rest being supposed to suffer a minute derange¬
ment, if the velocity of each body, estimated
in the same direction, be multiplied into its
mass, all those collected products will extinguish
each other. Virtual velocities might be there¬
fore viewed as an extension of the principle of
the lever.
But the same inventive mathematician after¬
wards produced another radical property, which
he styled the Conservation of Living Forces, and
which had been suggested by the ingenious hy¬
pothesis employed by Huygens for discerning
the centre of oscillation. The phrase expressed
that permanence, through all the gradual changes
of any system of connected bodies, in the ag¬
gregate of the products of their masses into the
squares of their velocities. This important prin¬
ciple abridges the solution of various dynamical
problems, and was embraced by Daniel Ber¬
noulli, the son of its propounder, as the basis of
his able and complete theory of Hydrodynamics,
published in 1738.*
Herman,3 a disciple and countryman of the
Bernoullis, and imbued with the taste of the
Leibnitzian school, published, in 1716, under
the title of Phoronomia, the first regular treatise
on Dynamics, drawn up in the analytical or
algebraical form. It was clear and compact, but
incomplete, and not distinguished by much novel¬
ty of conception.
The task of composing a work on Dynamics,
full and original in every part, devolved on
Euler, who exerted all the resources of his pe¬
netrating genius, aided by intense and indefati¬
gable application. This capital performance
came out in 1736, in two quarto volumes, en¬
titled Mechanics, or the Science of Motion, and
exhibited the completest and most elaborate
body of analytical investigation that had been
yet produced.
James,4 the elder Bernoulli, in his mode of
treating the problem of the Centre of Oscilla-
1 John Bernoulli was born at Bale on the 7th of August 1GG7, being consequently above twelve years younger than his
brother James. He possessed equal genius, but had a keener and more pertinacious temper. Designed by his father to
be bred a merchant, inclination led him to the culture of letters, which, from the example and instructions of his brother,
he afterwards exchanged for the pursuit of mathematics. The force of his inventive faculty he soon displayed in the reso¬
lution of those arduous questions which then agitated the scientific world. The spirit of chivalry had about this period passed
over to the learned, and the practice of sending mutual challenges incited application and fomented the talent of discovery.
Along with Huygens and Leibnitz, he was the first in solving the problem proposed by his brother, to determine the na¬
ture of the Catenarian Curve, or the flexure formed by an equable chain suspended from both ends. Having completed
the usual course of education, and turned his thoughts in 1G93 to the medical profession, he took a degree in physic. He
now travelled into France, and spent some time at the country-seat of the Marquis de I’Hopital, whom he taught the New
Calculus. Proceeding next to Holland, he was appointed in 1G95 Professor of Medicine and Mathematics (for these
sciences were strangely conjoined) in the University of Groningen. The fame he there acquired by his lectures and
writings appears to have awakened the jealousy or bigotry of the Calvinistic clergy, who brought a serious charge against
him, for impugning the doctrine of the resurrection in a Thesis maintained by one of his scholars, and composed or corrected by
himself, which represented the body as in a state of continual mutation, not only the liquid, but even the solid parts being
successively absorbed and renewed, and no particle of the composition remaining after a very short term of years. The
coolness of the magistrates, however, effectually silenced the ignorant clamour of the Synod, and Bernoulli was pressed to
remain in Holland, with flattering offers of promotion. But Bernoulli preferred his native city, whither he was sponta¬
neously invited to succeed his brother. In this honourable station he spent the rest of a long life in extending, by the ac¬
tivity of his genius, every branch of Mathematical and Physical Science. He corresponded with all the foreign societies,
and the numerous prizes he bore away proved a source of income. His treatise on seamanship came out in 1/14, and his
dissertation on the elliptical figure of the planets appeared in 1730. But his various philosophical papers were carefully
collected into four quarto volumes, and published in 1742 at Geneva and Lausanne. He died full of years and of glory on
the 1st of January 1748. .
2 These two properties Virtual Velocities and Conservation of Living Forces—are easily and directly proved from the
elementary principle of the composition of forces. See Elements of Natural Philosophy, p. 134, 135.
3 Born at Bale in 1678. Having been six years Professor of Mathematics at Padua, he accepted an invitation in 1724
to Petersburg; but not long afterwards returning home, he became Professor of Morals and Public Law in his native
city, where he died in 1733.
4 James Bernoulli, the first of a most illustrious race of mathematicians, was born on the 27th December 1654, at Bale,
and educated in the seminary of that frontier city. His father wished him to follow the profession of divinity, but the im-
604
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
tion, struck out a more direct and ingenious
procedure, by which the forces exerted are re¬
solved into separate portions, and an equality
obtained between their accelerating and retard¬
ing influence. This fine conception, after the
lapse of forty years, appears to have prompted
D’Alembert1 to the discovery of the simple and
general principle on which he framed his Trea¬
tise of Dynamics in 1743. In every system of
bodies acting mutually, their several movements
at any instant of time may be decomposed into
two portions, one which is retained in the next
instant, and the other spent; and since an equi¬
librium must obtain among the lost motions, an
expression is hence derived for the motions that
are preserved. The most intricate questions in
Dynamics were thus reduced to mere statical
problems, and solved constantly in the same easy
and uniform way. Maclaurin’s method of ex¬
pounding forces by co-ordinates facilitated still
further the application of this principle, which
D’Alembert in 1744 and 1752 extended like¬
wise to Hydrodynamics, comprehending both
the motion and the resistance of fluids.
The slightest incident has often led to the
most interesting discoveries. Few would sup¬
pose that the spinning of a common top in¬
volves the most difficult conditions in Dyna¬
mics, and serves to explain all the intricacies
of the planetary vertiginous motions. Segner,
a celebrated professor of mathematics at Got¬
tingen, and afterwards at Halle, and a man of
original and independent mind, published, in
1755, a short dissertation, with the modest title
of Specimen Theories Turhinum, wherein he show¬
ed that every body having a determinate figure,
which after combined impulsions is abandoned
in free space, will, besides its progressive mo¬
tion, perform simultaneously, and without the
smallest interference, a constant and uniform re¬
volution about each of three principal axes mu¬
tually perpendicular, and passing through the
centre of gravity. These axes of rotation possess
some beautiful but abstruse properties, which the
pulse of native genius burst through constraint, and hurried him into the ardent pursuit of geometry and astronomy, which
he cultivated in private. Alluding to this circumstance, he chose for his device Phiiethon driving the chariot of the Sun,
with the motto, “ Invito patre sidera verso.'" He began his travels for information in 1G76, visited Geneva, traversed
France, and eagerly sought the society of men of learning and science. In 1(180 he descended to the Netherlands and Hol¬
land, passed over to England, and frequented the philosophical meetings in London. After his return home in 1082, he
gave a course of mechanical lectures, in which he exhibited the new discoveries. Being appointed Professor of Mathe¬
matics in 1687, the fame of his vast attainments drew crowds of strangers to the academy. His genius was a torch of illu¬
mination, and the most elegant simplicity distinguished all his profound inventions. In conjunction with his younger bro¬
ther, he not only found out the secret of the Differential Calculus, on which Leibnitz had given a very short and obscure
essay in the Leipsic Acts, but unfolded the principles with such superior talent and address, that the German philosopher
had the generosity to regard him as entitled to share in the honour of the great discovery. He pursued the New Calculus
with extreme ardour, and applied it most happily to a variety of arduous investigations: Fie greatly improved the Method
of Series, extended the Theory of Curve Lines, approximated to the rectification of the Parabola, and discovered many
beautiful properties of cycloids, epicycloids, and spirals. With the logarithmic spiral, which he discovered to renovate
itself by evolution, his fancy was so much struck, that, in imitation of Archimedes, but in allusion to the sublime prospect
of resurrection, when he should “ shuffle off this mortal coil,” and rise like Phoenix from her ashes, he directed with a fine
enthusiasm this curve to be inscribed on his tomb, with the Ovidian line, “ Eadem mutaia resurgo."
But such mighty strides required proportional exertion of intellect, and this intense and unremitting application under¬
mined the constitution of Bernoulli, and carried him to a premature grave. He sunk under a slow fever on the 16th Au¬
gust 1705. He had nearly finished his great work on the doctrine of series, and the calculation of annuities and chances,
entitled De Arte Conjectandi, which was published in 1713. His other miscellaneous productions were not collected till
1744, when they came out in two quarto volumes at Geneva.
1 Born at Paris 16th November 1717, the fruit of an illicit amour with a lady of high rank, who exposed her infant; but
the father, listening to the calls of nature, settled a competent annuity. He was educated by the Jansenists in the Col¬
lege de Quatre Nations, where he gave early tokens of capacity and genius. After finishing the usual course, he returned
to the family of his nurse, with whom he lived forty years in great simplicity, cherishing his independence, and devoting
himself wholly to mathematical pursuits and the cultivation of general literature. Such was the progress he made, that he
was admitted, at the age of 24, a member of the Academy of Sciences, and two years afterwards he produced his Treatise
®n Dynamics. The germs of the Calculus of Partial Differences appeared in his Dissertation on Winds, which obtained
the prize from the Academy of Berlin in 1746. His new dynamical principle he applied to the investigation of the Earth’s
vertiginous motion in 1749, and to the theory of the resistance of fluids in 1752. About this time he engaged with Diderot
in the compilation of the Encyclopedia, wrote the famous introductory discourse, and furnished several capital articles, espe¬
cially in mathematical science. But he now sought to distinguish himself likewise in philosophy and literature, and pub¬
lished a variety of tracts, which gave occasion to controversy and violent opposition. But this hostility carried his reputa«
tion to a higher pitch. He corresponded with the great Frederick of Prussia, but refused the flattering offers of that Mo¬
narch and of the Empress Catharine of Russia. The literary honours he enjoyed at home were more agreeable to his
taste. Having become secretary to both Academies, he was esteemed the head of the philosophical body at Paris. His
works are numerous in various departments. He was a close, accurate, and original thinker ; and his style partakes of the
same qualities, neat, hard, and precise. He died on the 29th October 1783.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
605
great Euler investigated with that profound talent
and luminous method which distinguish all his
productions. The curious discovery of Segner
drew likewise the attention of D’Alembert and
Lagrange, and deserves to be regarded as one
of the most important additions ever made to the
science of Dynamics. It has contributed signal¬
ly to the advancement of physical astronomy,
and thrown a clear light on the theory of the
nutation of the earth’s axis, and of the precession
of the equinoxes.
Dynamics might seem to have nearly reached
its perfection, when Lagrange in 1788, by com¬
bining the principle of D’Alembert with that of
virtual velocities, converted the whole into an
absolute analytical science. His procedure was
to refer the efforts of every particle of a moving
system to three mutual perpendiculars, and
thence derive three several differential equations,
which being integrated, would give the final
solution of the problem. But to discover a ge¬
neral form of integration is the great difficulty
which still remains. All attempts to remove
this obstacle have hitherto failed, and we are
reluctantly obliged to remain satisfied with mere*
ly partial and approximative methods. It must
be confessed that the subtilties of the Higher Ana¬
lysis have been often displayed with very little
effect, and that the most celebrated mathemati¬
cians, in resolving some arduous questions, es¬
pecially those involving physical considerations,
have still not advanced beyond the vague and
imperfect results which sagacity had with very
slender aid already attained. Analysts affect too
much the air of generalizing, and deceive them¬
selves with expectations which are never destined
to be realized. It is thus that Nature appears
to set limits to the soaring of human genius.
Statics and Dynamics, though really ground¬
ed on observation, depend on principles so
simple, and apparently so congruous to reason,
that they are often derived from mere abstract
considerations, or the consonance of geometrical
analogies. But the constituent properties of
bodies lie beyond the reach of anticipation, and
can be explored only by experiment. Every
body may be divided into parts, and each of
these parts again subdivided; nor has any limit
been yet found to this repeated process of de¬
composition. Each separate portion likewise re¬
tains all the properties of the mass Rom which
it was detached. Hence the corpuscular ele¬
ments, or the materials that form bodies, have
precisely the same character as the compounds
themselves. But though imagination represents
an interminable series of subdivisions, such can¬
not be the actual constitution of nature, which
is always defined by number and measure. We
may therefore infer the existence of certain ulti¬
mate portions or atoms, endued with the very
fewest qualities, but which by their various com¬
binations constitute the particles of matter, or
form the corpuscular composition of bodies.
Every body whatever can have its dimensions
contracted or dilated by the application of force;
and the extent of this effect is limited only by
our circumscribed power. The atoms must
hence be held together by some mutual appe¬
tite, whose intensity varies with the interme¬
diate distance. This tendency is evidently re¬
pulsive within a certain interval, and attractive
beyond it. But the essence of matter consists
in impenetrability, and therefore the repulsive
force must increase from approximation above
any finite measure. The inherent power, thus
variously changing at near intervals, will merge
at remote distances into the great law of attrac¬
tion.
Such is a brief outline of the reasoning by
which the ingenious Boscovich1 in 1759 sup¬
ported his beautiful Theory of the Constitution
of the Universe. It was partly suggested per¬
haps by the modification first proposed by Clai-
raut on the Newtonian System, which assumed
1 Roger Joseph Boscovich, born in the small republic of Ragusa on the 11th of Ma)r 1711; received his elementary
instruction under the Jesuits, who noticed the promising talents of the youth, and sent him to complete his education in
their college at Rome. He soon attained great eminence in erudition and science; and became Professor of Mathematics
and Astronomy successively at Rome, Pavia, and Milan. In 1753 he performed the mensuration of a degree in the Papal
States, and during the intervals of that laborious occupation he composed in three octavo volumes a treatise of ele¬
mentary mathematics, remarkable for its simplicity and elegance. He was afterwards employed in several public negotia¬
tions, and the claims of his native state brought him to London, where he spent some time, mingling in the societies of the
606
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the attractive power to be composed of a small
portion of the inverse cube of the distance, joined
to the ordinary term of the inverse square. But
the idea of the Ragusan Philosopher was far
more general, exhibiting this power as what
algebraists call a function of the distance. He
rendered the conception still clearer by means
of a primordial curve stretching to indefinite
distance, of which the ordinates on either side
of the axis indicate the corresponding attractive
or repulsive force. The extended horizontal
branch includes the solar attraction, the alter¬
nate convolutions of the curve mark the proxi¬
mate changes of cohesion, and the final descend¬
ing branch, by its continual approach to a per¬
pendicular, intimates the insuperable repulsion
which prevents the collapse of matter. The in¬
termediate alternations of the curve are un¬
known ; but as in their progress they cross the
extended absciss from above or below, they
mark the limits of instability or stability. In
this way the different constitution of solid, li¬
quid, or gaseous substances may be represented.
The atoms being likewise variously grouped,
must by their blended action produce that im¬
mense diversity of effects which animate the
spectacle of the external world.
It is to be regretted that Boscovich obscured
his fine theory by an infusion of scholastic me¬
taphysics : He maintained that those atoms or
physical points had no magnitude, or differed
from mathematical points only in being endued
with primary force. But this difficulty, which
proceeds rather from our modes of conception
than from the actual state of things, might be
obviated, by supposing the atoms to have real
dimensions, though far smaller than any assigned
measure. The primordial curve can likewise be
presumed to advance, not by insensible grada¬
tions, but by a succession of most minute steps.
This slight modification would accord with the
tendency of atoms to collect into certain regular
groups, a property which seems deducible from
the principles of crystallography and the theory
of definite proportions. We thus catch a glimpse
of the recondite composition of corpuscular ele¬
ments.
The Boscovichian Theory reduces the inves¬
tigation of the properties of bodies to the utmost
simplicity, and may be regarded as a very happy
extension of the great law of attraction. Why
it has not been received with more favour, espe¬
cially on the Continent, might provoke some
surprise. Being probably considered as too
speculative, it has never been studied with the
attention it deserved. Purged of its antiquated
metaphysics and crude chemical notions, it would
form the best introduction to general physical
science.
A portion of that beautiful theory, however, is
now, in a modified shape, very commonly received,
especially by the continental philosophers, who
view the constituent molecules as held together by
their mutual attraction opposed to the repulsive
energy among the attached particles of heat. It
is a supposition which readily explains the ge¬
neral properties of bodies, and serves to elucidate
their structure and internal operations.
The Boscovichian System assumed the gene¬
ral principle, that every substance whatever is
capable of contraction and dilatation. But this
was not admitted at the time in its full extent,
the noted experiment of the Florentine Acade¬
micians seeming to have established the abso¬
lute incompressibility of water. The conclusion
however was too hastily drawn; for though the
liquid included within a hollow sphere of gold
resisted the blows of a hammer, and burst the
shell, yet the celerity with which it spirted
through the crevice, only displayed the elastic
force resulting, as Bellegradi rightly observed,
from an expansive effort to recover its previous
condition. But the actual condensation of water
and other liquids under pressure was first shown
learned, and composed his Poem on Eclipses, which exhibits a neat view of the Newtonian Philosophy. Thence he went
with an embassy to Vienna, where he observed the transit of Venus in 1769. On the suppression of the Jesuits by Pope
Ganganelli in 1772, he was invited to France, and appointed Director of Optics. But the Parisian philosophers derided
his school of theology, and undervalued his scientific talents; and after a residence of ten years, he returned in disgust to
Italy, and printed in 1784 his Opnsctila in five quarto volumes at Bassano. Chagrin and vexation in the decline of life
preyed on his sensitive mind; and he sunk by degrees into a deep melancholy, which ended in utter and hopeless insanity.
But from this deplorable state he was relieved by death on the 13th of February 1787* Boscovich possessed a fine geome¬
trical taste, joined to considerable powers of invention in a variety of subjects.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
607
experimentally in 1762 by our ingenious coun¬
tryman Mr Canton,1 who measured the effect hy
means of a sort oi large open thermometer, con¬
taining the fluid in a very capacious glass ball,
which terminated in a long capillary tube. Pro¬
fessor Zimmerman of Brunswick in 1779 carried
this condensation much farther, having introdu¬
ced water into the cavity of a brass cannon, and
compressed it by a force exceeding the weight
of 300 atmospheres. Still the popular and ele¬
mentary treatises, neglecting such decisive facts,
continued to repeat with complacency the para¬
doxical assertion, that water retains the same
volume under every degree of compression. Nor
was the public recalled from its careless ac¬
quiescence, till the mention of some experiments
of enormous compression performed at great
depths in the Atlantic Ocean. But the cele¬
brated Oerstedt of Copenhagen has lately made
an elegant improvement of Canton’s method, by
which the condensing power exerted on water
by a progressive pressure as high as thirty at¬
mospheres, is most easily and accurately measur-
ed. By a further extension of the apparatus, the
contractility of various solid substances could
likewise be readily ascertained, which might
lead to the detection of facts interesting in the
economy of Nature.
2. HYDROSTATICS AND PNEUMATICS.
The theory of the Pressure and Equilibrium
of Fluids is readily deduced from the principles
of Statics, joined to the consideration of the in¬
ternal mobility of the fluid particles, or their
absolute indifference to maintaining figure. But
the ordinary demonstration seems incomplete,
without taking likewise into view that Compres¬
sibility, which belongs in a more eminent degree
to fluid than even to solid substances. The
particles retreat from the action of pressure, con¬
tracting on all sides, till the repulsion occasion¬
ed by their mutual approach becomes a sufficient
countervailing force, diffusible in every direction.
Hydrostatics is therefore a complete science.
The conditions of equilibrium had been discover¬
ed by Archimedes, but Stevinus traced the effects
of fluid pressure, which Pascal afterwards ex¬
plained.
Hydrostatics, or rather Hydrodynamics, which
treats of the Motion of Fluids, is a subject of far
more difficult investigation. Torricelli gave the
first traces of this theory, which exercised the sa¬
gacity of Newton, and yet required considerable
correction. The fundamental problem is to find
the discharge of water through a small hole in
the bottom of a cylinder filled with the fluid.
This efflux amounts only to about five eighth
parts of the first emission; and to explain the
discrepancy, the immortal author of the Princi-
pia had recourse to the supposition of a cataract,
or funnel-shaped conoid, by which the various
streamlets bend their course towards the orifice.
But the theory was not investigated in a more
rigorous and systematic manner, till half a cen¬
tury afterwards, when Daniel Bernoulli2 pub¬
lished his important treatise of Hydrodynamics.
1 John Canton, one of our most diligent, skilful, and accurate experimental philosophers, was horn at Stroud in Glou¬
cestershire in 1718. His father, a broad-cloth weaver, bred him to the same trade; but the youth, incited by the lessons
of an elementary teacher, had from his earliest years imbibed a taste for mathematical studies, and continued to devote
every leisure moment to those fascinating pursuits. The ingenuity he showed in constructing sun-dials drew the notice of
his more intelligent neighbours, who kindly fostered his efforts, and lent him instructive books. Nothing has contributed
more in England, not only to spread general informatiqn, but to awaken latent genius, than the circulation of popular com-
pendiums and dictionaries of science. With these aids the ardent application of Canton made such rapid and striking pro¬
gress, that his patrons counselled him to quit the loom and repair to the metropolis, the great mart of talent. In 1738 he
was admitted assistant in a mathematical school in Spital Square, and afterwards became partner and successor in the con¬
cern, which he conducted during the rest of his life. Without aspiring to the higher walks of science, he was active in the
search of knowledge. He devised new experiments, and carefully repeated those in vogue; thus extending our acquaint¬
ance with Electricity, Magnetism, and some parts of Physical Chemistry. But his career was short, for he died of a dropsy
in 1772.
2 Daniel, son of John Bernoulli, born at Groningen 9th February 1700, conjoined the hereditary talent with a mild
and balanced disposition. He was only five years old when his father returned to Bale, where he prosecuted his educa¬
tion, and enjoyed the peculiar advantages of paternal aid, and the inciting emulation of his brother Nicholas. Being des¬
tined for the profession of physic, he sought to improve his medical attainments by resorting to the schools of Italy. There
he published in 1724 his Exercitationes Mathematicce, and already acquired such reputation that he was pressed to become
director of an academy projected at Genoa. This offer, however, he declined, but soon afterwards accepted, along with his
608
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
The subject was next discussed in 1744 by
D’Alembert, and with tbe depth and origina¬
lity which distinguish all his productions. This
celebrated philosopher, eight years thereafter,
advanced to the arduous investigation of the Re¬
sistance of Fluids, and displayed the resources of
his invention, in evolving a variety of ingenious
formulae. Euler likewise, by a series of repeat¬
ed progressive essays between the years 1755
and 1772, successively simplified the theory of
Hydrodynamics, and reduced the doctrine into
a strict analytical form, the whole comprised in
two differential equations of the second order.
Lagrange followed next, and discussed in 1781
the chief difficulties which encumbered the
theory; and five years thereafter, he simplified
still further the mode of investigation in his
Mkcanique Analytique.
But it is rather mortifying to confess, that
these refined speculations are of little avail in
the practice of the science. It is indeed impos¬
sible, by any effort of analysis, to embrace all
the physical conditions concerned in such an in¬
tricate system of internal corpuscular motions.
Assumptions become necessary for the sake of
abbreviation, and the process of integration it¬
self is seldom if ever complete. The results drawn
from such laborious researches are, after all this
parade of rigid accuracy, to be viewed as only
near approximations, which could often be at¬
tained by much easier means. It would there¬
fore be preferable in many cases to study the
physical relations more closely, avoiding the
abuse of abstract calculation, and to rest satis¬
fied with arriving at the conclusions by a sort
of balance of errors. In the sober application
of analysis, Daniel Bernoulli was singularly
happy, guiding his steps always by the light of ex¬
periment and observation. And, since the result
of the most elaborate investigation is very seldom
better than a simple approximation, it seems more
judicious in such researches to lay the chief stress
on the estimate of physical principles. After
the most strenuous efforts of genius displayed
during the eighteenth century, the theory of the
motions of fluids has really not arrived at more
precise conclusions than those first assigned by
the penetration of Newton. Nay, so far from
reaching any higher degree of perfection, some
of the recondite speculations of Lagrange and
Poisson, those particularly relating to the ex¬
tent and celerity of waves, and the general un-
dulatory commotions in fluids, involve conse¬
quences which are palpably at variance with the
known phsenomena of Nature. In such compli¬
cated investigations, the safest mode of proceed¬
ing is to follow the example of astronomers, who
determine the co-efficients of the several analy¬
tical formulae, by the comparison of observations.
The simplest and most elementary theory is
hence rendered subservient to practical use.
The principles of Hydrostatics constitute the
grounds of Naval Architecture, which embraces
the theory of the Construction and Sailing of
Ships. To this very important branch of sci¬
ence, Euler turned his mighty talents, and pro¬
duced in 1749 a large and elaborate work, con¬
taining a series of ingenious propositions, but
which unfortunately are not the best adapted to
actual practice. About the same time the ce¬
lebrated Bouguer,1 combining geometrical skill
with the stores of experimental knowledge, exa-
brother, a more flattering invitation from Peter the Great of Itussia, to hold a prominent station in the Institute then
founded in the new capital. Nicholas soon sunk under the severity of that northern climate, but Daniel remained till
1733, when he was appointed to the professorship of physic at Bale. In quitting llussia, he did not forget to recommend
for successor his countryman Euler, who, though seven years younger, had been associated in some degree as his fellow-
student. Bernoulli during the rest of his life pursued at home his philosophical investigations with unwearied assiduity
and eminent success. He gained or shared most of the prizes given by the different learned bodies over Europe. In
1734 he divided with his father the honour of solving the very difficult problem of the inclination of the orbits of the
planets. But his great rival was Euler, nor did their frequent collision ever cool the warmth of mutual friendship. Ber¬
noulli long enjoyed the high respect due to his talents, his virtues, and many amiable qualities. He died on the 17th
March 1782.
1 Peter Bouguer, born on the 10th of February 1898, at Croisic in Lower Brittany, where his father was royal profes¬
sor of Hydrography, and had shown abilities by publishing an esteemed treatise of Navigation. Under such guidance he
imbibed a very early taste for mathematics, and having distinguished himself at the Jesuits’ college of Vannes, he was, af¬
ter a strict public examination, found qualified to succeed his father when only fifteen years old. Notwithstanding his im¬
mature age, he discharged the duties of his office with dignity and success. But he found leisure also to pursue his pri¬
vate studies, and in 1727 he gained a prize of the Parisian Academy for a paper on the Masting of Ships, and obtained
other prizes in the following years. His Treatise on the Gradation of Light appeared in 1729, and established his high re¬
putation. His celebrity always increasing, he was appointed in 1735 to join the famous scientific expedition sent out to
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
mined the subject in its details, and reduced
the theory into a form remarkably simple and
elegant. When a body floats on the surface of
water, it is held in equilibrium by the action of
two equal and opposite perpendicular forces
passing through its centre of gravity, and the
centre of buoyancy or that of the fluid dis¬
placed by immersion. Its weight draws it
downwards, while the buoyant effort presses it
directly upwards in the line of support, the ver¬
tical position of those centres being essential to
the stability of flotation. The centre of buoyancy
does not remain constant, but shifts with the
inclination of the natant body. The sustaining
force may be conceived to act at any point in
its direction, and consequently where the line
of support crosses the axis. On this point of
concourse, Bouguer bestowed the appropriate
name of Metacentre, as the limiting position
which determines the conditions of flotation,
there being stability whenever it stands above
the centre of gravity, but the contrary if it
falls below. This useful theorem he had in¬
vented in 1746; and nine years afterwards was
published his investigation of the several motions
of ships under the impulse of wind. That inquiry
rested too much, however, on the ordinary re¬
sistance of fluids, which needs material correc¬
tions. It is not very difficult to measure the
primary shock of the fluid particles; but, since
they accumulate on the front of the body while it
advances, the most arduous task is to estimate
the force expended, in turning them aside into
the general mass, and restoring the diffuse qui¬
escence. To include such multiplied conditions,
which are still essential towards a correct and
complete solution of the problem, would evi¬
dently transcend the powers of the most com¬
plex analysis. The utmost that can be effected
is only an approximation, which may be easily
obtained by adopting a simplified hypothesis,
and correcting the terms from observation.
(109
The most complete set of experiments on the
resistance of water in narrow canals was made
by Bossut between the years 1766 and 1775,
and forms the groundwork of his valuable theo¬
retical and practical treatise on Hydrodynamics.
It hence appears that water has its celerity re¬
duced to the tenth part, by flowing through a
smooth leaden pipe whose length is four thou¬
sand times its diameter, or that every particle of
the fluid has its motion extinguished and suc¬
cessively renewed ten times during the passage
along the extended cavity, by grazing against sides
and again relapsing into the current. If in this
case, therefore, the whole pressure were distin¬
guished into an hundred equal parts, one of
these alone generates the velocity, the remain¬
ing ninety-nine parts being expended in merely
surmounting the impediments to the flow. A
similar consideration was made the basis of
Practical Hydrodynamics by Dubuat, who in
1786 gave simple and easy formulae, for deter¬
mining the discharge of pipes, canals, and rivers.
Smeaton, our celebrated engineer, performed
a series of experiments by means of small mo¬
dels in 1759, on the action of water and wind
against the floats or sails of mills. The results
obtained on such a narrow scale have, notwith¬
standing their unavoidable imperfection, been
adopted into general practice. Other later ob¬
servations made by Banks have likewise gain¬
ed credit among our artisans. The most skilful
experiments however of that kind were institut¬
ed by Eytelwein of Berlin in 1799. But the
recent observations made at Fahlun in Sweden
are decidedly the completest and most scientific
which have been yet performed.
The usual method of investigating the resist¬
ance of Fluids is to estimate the momentary
shock or impact of their particles against the
anterior surface of the penetrating body. But
a more complete and elegant solution may be
derived, from considering the pressure caused by
measure a degree of the meridian under the equator. He spent ten years on the lofty chain of the Andes, prosecuting
with unabated ardour a variety of new, ingenious, and important researches. On his return to Europe, he poured forth a
flood of most interesting information in most branches of physical science. His last works. ] elated to the construction
and sailing of ships. Incessant labour and intense application had worn out his constitution, and he expired on the
15th of August 1758. Few persons have contributed so largely to the promotion of Natural Philosophy as Bouguer,
who united the rare qualities of an able mathematician and a skilful and accurate expeiimenter. . I.ike studious poi¬
sons little conversant with the world, he is alleged, however, to have had the misfortune ol a jealous and irritable
mss. iv.
610
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the incessant accumulation, and therefore con¬
densation, of the medium in the track of the
passage through it. There is likewise another
retarding force occasioned by the constant dila¬
tation of the fluid in the rear of the advancing
body. In the case of the gaseous media, this
impediment often rises to a great amount.
When the velocity of penetration, for instance,
through common air exceeds 1350 feet each se¬
cond, a vacuum is formed behind the missile,
which thence suffers a retardation equal to the
weight of a whole atmosphere. This conse¬
quence was first remarked by Robins in the
flight of cannon-balls, and it completely de¬
ranges the parabolic theory. He was mistaken
however in restricting the effect to such extreme¬
ly swift motions; for the same consideration ap¬
plies in every degree of rapidity, the condensa¬
tion and corresponding dilatation of the air close
to the anterior and the posterior surfaces of the
ball being proportional to the square of its cele¬
rity. Hence the measure of retardation is al¬
ways affected by the shape of the rear, as well
as of the front of the projectile.
Robins employed an ingenious method of de¬
termining the impulse of balls, by firing them
against a heavy loaded pendulum, whose de¬
flection correctly indicated the momentum thus
communicated; and by intercepting the flight
at different distances, it was easy to discover the
loss of velocity, and consequently the resistance
opposed by the air. Borda, assuming a much
lower scale of velocities, followed a different
mode in the valuable set of experiments on the re¬
tardation arising from fluids which he performed
between the years 1763 and 1769. He particu¬
larly noticed the influence of the figure of the
hinder part of a moving body in modifying the re¬
sistance of the medium. Dr Hutton adopted the
Ballistic Pendulum of Robins in his most exten¬
sive series of experiments executed with great cir¬
cumspection on Woolwich Common during the
years 1790 and 1791. It comprehends the whole
range of velocities, from 5 feet in a second to
2000. The resistance appeared to increase in a
ratio faster than the square of the velocity, and
therefore Hutton proposed to increase the index
2 by a small variable addition. This modifica¬
tion however is not conformable to the physical
principles. Coulomb has shown, by his very
delicate Balance of Torsion, that, in the case of
extremely slow motions, the resistance of fluids
is proportional to the velocity simply. The
complete expression of resistance therefore in¬
cludes probably, besides the second power, like¬
wise the first and third, of which the co-efficients
are to be found by a scrupulous comparison of
the results. More precise experiments are still
wanted, to improve the science of Gunnery.
The flow of air through a small orifice suffers
nearly the same loss as water, or delivers only
about five eighth parts of the measure indicated
by theory. But, in passing through long trains
of pipes, the several gases appear, from some re¬
cent though very limited experiments of Girard,
to encounter proportionally still greater obstruc¬
tion ; insomuch that a stream of air would re¬
quire a pressure exceeding tenfold its emergent
force, to enable it to work its way through a
pipe whose length is 180 times the diameter.1
It is a question hitherto overlooked, but of real
importance in the economical distribution of pipes
for conveying coal or oil gas.
Water and other liquids, when heated, are
observed to flow more freely from a very narrow
aperture or through a long capillary bore, ow¬
ing evidently to increased fluidity or the greater
internal mobility of their particles. From a
very slender syphon pure water near boiling will
drop six times faster than on the verge of freez¬
ing. But air seems not affected in the same
way: If it be forced by a certain pressure
through a long capillary tube of glass laid hori¬
zontally in a water bath, the current, so far
from accelerating, will become retarded by the
application of heat. This discrepancy is occa¬
sioned by the dilatation of the fluid, which en¬
feebles the rate of discharge.
The progress of chemistry during the eigh¬
teenth century has brought us acquainted with
1 The general complexion of the fact had been accidentally noticed before at Wilkins’ great iron-works in Wales, where
the nozzel of the bellows of a blast furnace being inserted into the one end of a train of large pipes, the efflux from the
other end scarcely affected the flame of a candle.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
611
other kinds of air or gases besides the atmos¬
pheric. But their mechanical properties are
not so easily determined. The very inferior
density of hydrogen gas was first discovered in
1766 by Cavendish, who made it ten times lighter
than common air. By some late experimenters
it has been represented as even sixteen times
lighter, when carried to the highest state of pu¬
rity. This conclusion, however, appears very
doubtful, since it involves hypothetical consider¬
ations. It is very difficult to detach the latent
moisture and to weigh accurately the dried
gases contained in large glass balloons. This
experiment, though quite practicable, remains
still to be performed; and there is reason to sus¬
pect that the alleged lightness of hydrogen gas
has been much exaggerated. But Pneuma¬
tic theory suggests a method of ascertaining
the relative density of any gas, which is at once
most ready, and susceptible of very considerable
accuracy. It is only to observe the time of a given
discharge of the fluids, from a small orifice, and
under the action of a certain pressure; when
the density will, in like circumstances, be in¬
versely as the square of the number of seconds
elapsed.1 But the celerity of the flow may be
discovered indirectly by another mode, which is
practised with the greatest ease and nicety by
any person possessing a fine musical ear. He
needs only to send the gas through a detached
organ pipe, and distinguish the precise note
which it yields, or find another pipe in unison
with it; the inverse subduplicate ratio of these
lengths will express the relative densities of
the fluids. This suggestion deserves to be pur¬
sued.
When air is thrown by pressure through a
small round hole, either into free space or into
a close vessel with a wider exit, it must evident¬
ly spread in diverging streamlets, and suffer a
certain degree of rarefaction. The radiating
discharge of a fluid thus involves a princi¬
ple,2 which explains a number of curious facts.
Water rushing in a foaming current along a
pipe or confined channel, leaves a partial va¬
cuity at the sides, from which a small insert¬
ed syphon would draw a stagnant liquid to
a considerable height. This was particularly
noticed in 1795 by Venturi, who termed the
property Lateral Action. On the same principle
depends the suspension and play of a small ball
above a jet of air from hydraulic bellows or a
condensing engine. Hence likewise an explica¬
tion of a seeming paradox in the action of fluids,
lately considered by the ingenious Hachette.
If a pipe bent directly downwards swell below
into a cone with an horizontal base, encircled by
a narrow rim, and pierced wdth a central hole, a
strong current of air issuing through that aper¬
ture, but having a circular plate fitting closely
with a weight appended, so far from blowing
awray the water, will draw it forcibly and sup¬
port the load. The sheet of air between the
opposite surfaces being kept rarefied by its di¬
verging streamlets, the external atmosphere
presses strongly upwards. The experiment is
reducible to the simplest form; for a common
tobacco-pipe held inverted, will by mere blowing
be made to suspend a card from its bowl. The
safety-valve therefore of a high pressure engine
may not always afford the expected protection;
under peculiar circumstances it will remain
attached at a very small distance, allowing only
a partial escape of steam in very thin diverging
streamlets.
The like effect is produced in the expanding
discharge of water from a narrow circular outlet.
Here the streamlets dividing from the centre,
draw in air and keep it rarefied by their rapid di¬
vergence. The adhesion fails with a rectangular
aperture, the streamlets then proceeding in paral¬
lel lines. On a modification of the same principle
depends an elegant experiment of Ampere. If
water be projected horizontally from the bottom
of a tall vessel through a vertical slit, this able phi¬
losopher observed that the sharp parabolic stream
will at a certain distance form a sort of node, and
sink into a broad arch. The different retardations
of the exterior streamlets appear in this case to
determine the change of appearance.
1 These methods of experimenting present themselves to a mathematician, but perhaps the first intimation of them was
given in the Experimental Inquiry into the Nature and Propagation of Heat, p 534. Since a delicate musical ear can
distinguish even the quarter of a note, the error of observation in the second mode should not exceed the 64th part, which
seems a nearer approximation than is attainable in any other way.
* See the article Meteorology in this Encyclopaedia.
612
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Brook Taylor had shown that a musical chord
during' its vibrations has the swelling outline of
a trochoid. But Euler and D’Alembert drew a
more general conclusion, and proved that the
curve might consist of several intermediate
branches, subject merely to certain conditions de¬
pending on the Theory of Partial Differences. The
solution of the problem gave occasion to a contro¬
versy between those illustrious philosophers, the
former maintaining that the portions of the hai’-
monic curve might be discrete, and the latter, in
conformity with the great principle of Leibnitz,
contending for their necessary continuity. But
Daniel Bernoulli, avoiding the mazes of intri¬
cate analysis and visionary metaphysics, gave a
clear investigation based on experiment. He
established from induction that a vibrating
string naturally divides itself into aliquot parts,
which perform independently their several os¬
cillations during each sweep of the whole chord.
Applying the same kind of reasoning to wind-
instruments, he showed that a cylinder of air
which, by its tremor darting in the cavity of a
tube with the rapidity of sound, produces its
fundamental note, divides, likewise according
to the force of intonation, into halves, thirds,
fourths, or fifths, which segments yield at the same
time their melting subordinate notes. Hence a
musical tone is never single, but consists in the
union and concord of certain elementary sounds.
And such is the origin of Music, which receives
its harmonious composition from the balance
and concert of Nature. The theory of Rameau,
which D’Alembert took the pains to expound,
is reducible to the same principle. Those acute
subordinate notes rise at times above the funda¬
mental, or outlive it. Hence the shrill expiring
note of a deep-sounding bell, and hence also the
nari’ow compass of the French horn, which
yields merely the successive natural tones ac¬
cording to the force' of the blast.
These natural tones are derived from the mu¬
tual relations of the simple series of numbers 2,
3, 4, and 5. The ratio of 1 to 2 is evidently
compounded of the ratio of 2 to 3 and that of
3 to 4, and these ratios mark the sweetest con¬
cords. The interval between the § and | is |, and
between f and f it is which fractions indi¬
cate a tone and a semi-tone, the latter differing
from unit only by about half the difference of the
former. But \ may be split into §, T95, and
and hence | and T90, though not quite equal, are
both deemed tones, the former being called the
Major and the latter the Minor. The fraction §
is therefore composed of f, §, T90, and ; and
thus seven divisions, consisting of three tones
major, two tones minor, and two semi-tones,
fill up the whole extent of the fraction which
is hence termed the octave. It is impossible to
express an equal subdivision of ratios by small
numbers, but twelve semi-tones may be inter¬
polated with tolerable nearness. Speculative
authors have endeavoured to adjust or temper
the scale, and for this purpose they have some¬
times proposed the application of logarithms.
Wallis illustrated the Theory of Music with his
ingenuity and stores of erudition. In the ear¬
lier part of the subsequent century Malcolm and
Smith produced learned treatises on the subject.
But Euler himself, having at different times re¬
sumed the investigation, composed an ample
treatise on the General Principles of Music.
It is curious to compare the different degrees
of sensibility possessed by the organs of seeing
and of hearing. The eye extends its perception
over a range of intensity from one to beyond a
billion, or from the feeblest glimmer of twilight
to the dazzling glare of the meridian sun. But
it loses its grasp unless the impression lasts
nearly the tenth of a second on the sensorium.
Hence a momentary gleam of light, as in Elec¬
tricity, may elude observation, while a brand
whirled quickly round appears a continued cir¬
cle of fire.1 The discrimination of the human
ear has a more limited extent: It comprises
only eight octaves, from the gravest to the
sharpest note, or from those produced by only
16 vibrations in a second to those excited by a
succession of 8192 vibrations in that interval.
Such extr’eme rapidity might seem far beyond
the reach of our faculties; but it is the nature
of a musical note to repeat its action till an-
1 This remark might serve to elucidate the more recondite Electrical Theory. A variety of curious appearances are
explained from the same principle. Hence likewise the ingenious toy lately brought forward and called by Dr Paris the
Thaumairojpe.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
613
other arises; and this divided duration, short as
it may be, is sufficient to impress the auditory
nerve.
The application of the Higher Calculus to un¬
fold the Motions of the Gaseous Fluids has ex¬
ercised the skill and ingenuity of the greatest
analysts, without producing however any mate¬
rial results. But what is really valuable has been
obtained, by the simplest theory guiding experi¬
mental research. One of the finest corollaries
drawn from the principles of Pneumatics is the
method of ascertaining the heights of mountains
by Barometrical observations. Pascal was the
first to propose this nice problem, after the
success of the famous experiment performed
at his suggestion on the summit of the Puy
de Dome. But the essential element of the
solution—the relation between the pressure and
the density of the air—had not been yet dis¬
covered. Twenty years elapsed till Richard
Townley, assisting at some of the experiments
which Boyle was making to refute the miserable
objections of Father Linus, perceived that simple
law, which the English philosopher confirmed
by other more extended experiments on the com¬
pression and dilatation of air. But in 1676,
• Mariotte, a French experimenter, endued with
greater penetration, and possessing some geo¬
metrical skill, published a work on the Atmos¬
phere, of high merit for the time, and stamped
with originality. He had instituted a clear set
of experiments for investigating, and stated the
result in explicit terms, that the Density of the
Air is always proportional to its Compression.
From this law he sought to derive the graduat¬
ed rarefaction in the upper regions of the At¬
mosphere. He thought the variation of a line
by the barometer near the level of the sea should
answer to an ascent of 10^ toises, which is the
same in English measures as the tenth part of
an inch for 751 feet. He then proceeded to
find in succession the thickness of the strata of
air corresponding to 4032 twelfth parts of a line
in the whole mercurial column of 28 inches.
These strata he remarked might be found by
Logarithms; but contenting himself with a
rough computation, he adopted an arithmetical
instead of the geometrical progression. Hence
he reckoned the air to be 4032 times attenuated
at an elevation of 15 leagues or 43T7^ miles,
which is a tolerable approximation, the true
height being only 41J miles.
Mariotte had therefore no very distinct con¬
ception of the great property that at equal as¬
cents in the atmosphere the density of the air
diminishes in a continued proportion. This
beautiful theorem appears to have been first dis¬
covered and demonstrated about the year 1662
by Huygens, who never took the trouble, how¬
ever, to publish it.1 But in 1685, Halley gave
an elegant geometrical demonstration of the pro¬
perty, founded on the relations of the segments in¬
cluded between the hyperbola and its asymptotes.
For the sake of round numbers, he assumed 30
inches for the standard mercurial column, air at
the surface having 800 times less density than
water; and he made the elevation proportional
to the difference of the logarithms of these co¬
lumns, the interval between 30 and 29 inches
corresponding to 900 feet. This rule, drawn
directly from theoretical considerations, was
found to apply with tolerable accuracy to an ob¬
servation made a few years afterwards on the
top of Snowdon. Newton generalized the pro¬
blem in his Principia, by taking into the esti¬
mate the decrease of gi*avity in receding from the
centre of the earth, and arrived at the conclu¬
sion, that the densities of the higher strata of
the atmosphere form a geometrical progression
corresponding to the altitudes disposed in har¬
monic proportion. But this correction may be
deemed superfluous in most cases of barometri¬
cal measurement.
It was only wanted, therefore, to rectify the
method of Halley, by trying it with observations
made at great altitudes. But, for more than half
a century afterwards, the subject of barometri¬
cal measurement was entirely neglected in Eng-
1 The demonstration, with its date, is given on a Dutch Almanac, now preserved in the Library of the University o
Leyden, which, among other valuable notices, contains various microscopical observations, and a judicious parallel between
Descartes and Bacon, whom he censures for his ignorance of Geometry, his violent opposition to the Copermcan System,
and his general inattention to the progress of physical and astronomical science.
614
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
land; and, instead of being improved on the
Continent, it had relapsed into confusion, and
became involved in hypotheses fostered by the
lingering influence of the Cartesian philosophy.
Bouguer returned to the right path, and availed
himself of the opportunity afforded in surveying
the stupendous Cordilleras, to compare theory
with observations on the grandest scale. His
investigation was not published, however, till
1753, when he gave the very simple rule which
is the ground of all the modern practice : That
the difference between the logarithms of the barome¬
trical columns, reckoning as integers the first four
figures, and deducting a thirtieth part, will express
the altitude in toises. To accommodate the re¬
sult to English measures, it is only required to
add, instead of subtracting, the thirtieth part
of the logarithmic difference, to denote fathoms.
But still there were considerable discrepancies
which the ingenious observer endeavoured to
remove by some plausible suppositions respecting
the elasticity of the air. To find the density of
that fugacious fluid, he proposed an experiment
which marks originality of conception : It was
to note the relaxation of a pendulum or the rate
of its diminished sweeps at different elevations
in the atmosphere.
The chief cause of the perplexity was owing
to the variable influence of heat on the density
of the air. No further improvement could there¬
fore be made till that effect had been ascertained,
and the difference of temperature between the
stations in every case measured by the applica¬
tion of an accurate thermometer. Be Luc has
the merit of reviving the subject, and of pur¬
suing his researches with ardour, skill, and per¬
severance. Geneva, his native city, from its po¬
sition near lofty mountains, afforded the great¬
est facility for conducting extensive observations.
He began his excursions among the Alps in
1754, and soon perceived the necessity of im¬
proving the barometer, and rendering it more
portable. By carefully boiling the mercury
within the tube, he was enabled to expel any
particles of air or of moisture which adhered to
its sides; and having adjusted the level of the
basin, he affixed to the instrument a scale mark¬
ed with fine subdivisions. But instead of fol¬
lowing the decimal division, and distinguishing
the inch into a thousand equal parts, he unfor¬
tunately took an irregular sequence, by adopting
lines or twelfth parts, which he broke down
again into sixteenths.
The construction of the thermometer engaged
his particular attention. He tried alcohol, and
various refined oils, and discovered their great
defects. He was therefore induced to prefer mer¬
cury, which, besides other advantages, he found,
by the methods practised by Renaldini and Brook
Taylor, to possess the essential property of ex¬
panding very nearly equally with equal acces¬
sions of heat. Substituting that mineral fluid for
the dilute spirit of wine, he merely corrected the
divisions of Reaumur, reckoning the arbitrary
number of eighty degrees from freezing to boil¬
ing water. Corresponding to each of these de¬
grees, he determined the expansion of air by
heat to be the 215th part, which answers to a
269th on the centesimal scale.
The rules which Deluc inferred from nume¬
rous experiments and observations were pub¬
lished in 1772 in his able but very diffuse work
entitled llecherches sur les Modifications de l’At¬
mosphere. Two years afterwards they were re¬
duced to English measures, and simplified by
Maskelyne and Horsley ; and the problem of
barometrical measurement appears then to have
excited much attention in our island. General
Roy computed and observed the heights of
mountains in Wales, and Sir George Shuck-
burgh at the same time, and for a similar pur¬
pose, ascended the lofty summits of the Alps.
They had the advantage of employing barome¬
ters constructed by the celebrated Ramsden;
and their conclusions, published in 1777, ac¬
cordingly very nearly agreed, making the differ¬
ence between the logarithms of the mercurial
columns to express the elevation in fathoms at
a temperature only the fraction of a degree be¬
low the freezing point. Since that time little
more improvement has been effected, though se¬
veral circumstances that modify the solution of
the problem, especially the influence of humidity,
might require to be reconsidered. Laplace
indeed has introduced some niceties which ap¬
pear hardly suited to such imperfect data, and
render his formula extremely complex and in¬
elegant. Till the modifications of the atmos-
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
615
phere be measured with much greater precision,
we may rest satisfied with a simple and rapid
approximation. Nay, the application of loga¬
rithms might in most cases be superseded, by
employing a very easy proportion.1
The mutual appetency of the elemental atoms
includes both the cohesion of the particles of
a body to each other and their adhesion to a
different substance; and since this cohesive
force belongs alike to solids and to fluids, it only
preserves their volume, and does not essentially
maintain the firmness or figure of a body. Hence
the small detached portions of liquids run into
globules or drops, and hence also they may be re¬
tained in uvessel at some height above the brim.
In very narrow glass tubes, water and other li¬
quids will indeed stand considerably higher than
the level. This curious fact was first distinctly
noticed by Aggiunto, one of the leading mem¬
bers of the Academy del Cimento, who died at an
early age. But the completest series of experi¬
ments on Capillary Action was made by our
countryman Hauksbee. He proved that it is
not affected by atmospheric pressure, and suc¬
ceeds equally well in vacuo; he showed the
ascent of water and other liquids between prox¬
imate glass plates, and compared it with the
rise in narrow tubes; and he ascertained the
elevation to be always inversely as the width of
the bore or the separation of the plates. He
found the same property belongs to plates of
marble and brass, and remarked the ascension
of water in an open barometer tube crammed
with fine ashes. Dr Brook Taylor likewise
performed several ingenious experiments on
this subject: Having joined two plates of glass
at their vertical sides so as to form a sharp
wedge, he dipped it in a sheet of water, and ob¬
served the liquid to rise and form a rectangular
hyperbola; thus clearly exhibiting the relation of
the ascent to the interval between the proximate
surfaces. But he pursued the phaenomena of
corpuscular attraction still farther, and measur¬
ed the adhesion of a disc of glass to water and
mercury. Seventy years afterwards this in¬
quiry was resumed by the celebrated Guyton-
Morveau, who endeavoured to ground upon it
the chemical theory of Elective Attraction. The
attempt however was fallacious, because the
force required to detach a disc of glass, marble,
or metal, from a surface of water or mercury, is
not a single effort, but combines the adhesion of
the liquid particles to the solid with their cohe¬
sion to each other.
In 1718 Dr Jurin, being led to examine the
phsenomenaof Capillary Action, proposed a theo¬
ry for their explication which seemed at least
plausible. He rightly ascribed the rise of water
in the cavity of the tube to the close attraction
of the internal surface of the glass, though he
did not perceive the way in which that force
must act. He fancied the suspension of the
slender column of liquid to be caused by the at¬
traction of the ring of glass immediately above
the summit. But such an assumption was quite
illusory, for the ring below that limit would evi¬
dently exert an equal force in the opposite di¬
rection, and thus extinguish the influence of the
former. This singular oversight very long how¬
ever escaped remark, and Jurin’s hypothesis
became popular and commonly adopted.
Clairaut, discussing the equilibrium of fluids
in his famous work on the Figure of the Earth,
incidentally examined the property of Capillary
Attraction, of which he gave a profound but
incomplete analytical investigation. The acute
Segner took up the subject in 1754, and gave a
different solution, distinguished by its depth, in¬
genuity, and general accuracy. Assuming as a
principle, that the attractive energy is confined
to a mere exterior film of the liquid, he found
the curve of the upper surface to be what is
called the Lintearia, or the cavity of an inflated
sail formed by an uniform tension. The results
he obtained were perfectly accordant with the
phaenomena, except the figure of a drop, in the
determination of which he had, from overlooking
the double curvature, committed a small error.
Nearly half a century more elapsed till any
further attempt deserving notice was made to im-
1 As the sum of the mercurial columns is to their difference, so is the constant number 52,000 to the approximate height. 1 his
number is the more easily remembered from the division of the year into weeks. For a condensed explication of the sub¬
ject of Barometrical Measurement, see Elements of Geometry, 4th edition, p. 454-45G.
616
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
prove the Theory of Capillary Action. In 1802, a
short dissertation on the subject, drawn up for a
particular occasion, and cast into a popular form,
was inserted in the Philosophical Magazine.1 It
set out from the simplest principles, refuted the
notion of Jurin, proved that the attraction ot the
inner surface of the glass must be exerted later¬
ally, and showed from the nature of fluids how
such a force would produce a vertical effort in the
liquid column. The author had designed to ex¬
pand the outline into a strict analytical investi¬
gation, that should embrace the whole range of
the phaenomena, but deferred the task on account
of the more interesting objects which happened
then to engage his attention. This unpretending
essay, though little appreciated at the time, ap¬
pears however to have recalled the attention of
philosophers to a subject so long neglected. In
less than two years the late lamented Dr Thomas
Young resumed the investigation of Capillary
Action after the manner of Segner, and obtained
a very complete solution, but which required, be¬
sides, the admission of a repulsive force among the
particles of the liquid at a certain small distance.
At the mention of Dr Young’s name the historian
must pause. None of our countrymen has ap¬
proached more nearly to the character of the ce¬
lebrated Dr Brook Taylor. Possessing the same
ingenuity, extensive learning, varied accomplish¬
ments, and profound science, he combined like¬
wise a concise, hard, and sometimes obscure mode
of statinghis reasonings and calculations. He ma¬
nifested some chagrin at seeing Laplace, within a
twelvemonth after, digress from the train of his
Mecanique Celeste, to produce an analytical inves¬
tigation of the phsenomena of Capillary Action, so
closely resembling his own in the general conclu¬
sions. The illustrious French Philosopher, over¬
looking the previous advances that had been made,
and little solicitous about tracing physical princi¬
ples, trusted tohis consummate skill in the process
of calculation, and involved the subject in a maze
of intricate and abstruse formulce. The reflections
drawn from Dr Young on that occasion were
extremely judicious, and deserve to be held up
to view at present, when such a false taste pre¬
vails as threatens to involve the science of our
island in specious mysticism. “ It must be con¬
fessed that, in this country, the cultivation of the
higher branches of the Mathematics, and the in¬
vention of new methods of calculation, cannot be
too much recommended to the generality of those
who apply themselves to Natural Philosophy;
but it is equally true, on the other hand, that the
first mathematicians on the Continent have ex¬
erted great ingenuity in involving the plainest
truths of mechanics in the intricacies of Alge¬
braical formulas, and in some instances have even
lost sight of the real state of an investigation, by
attending only to the symbols, which they have
employed for expressing its steps.” (Lectures on
Natural Philosophy, vol. II. p. 670.)
Laplace’s intricate formula for Capillary Action
has been since unravelled by the acute discrimi¬
nation of Mr Ivory, who disjoined it into two
separate portions; the one depending on the ad¬
hesion of the watery film to the inside of the tube,
and the other resulting from half the cohesion
of the particles of the liquid to each other. But
our ingenious countryman deduced these ele¬
ments of the complete force from the simplest
physical principles, availing himself of the pro¬
perty of equable diffusion of pressure through
the mass of a fluid. The same investigation
gave the measure and limits of depression observ¬
ed in mercury and some other liquids. The
treatise on the Elevation of Fluids which first
appeared in the Supplement to this Encyclopae¬
dia2 was a masterly production, which fulfilled
every requisite that could be desired.
1 In a memorandum bearing the date of December 1798, the principle is thus briefly stated: “ The attraction of water
to glass, being directed perpendicular to the surface, produces, in consequence of the laws of fluids, a lateral motion, in the
same manner as would the pressure of a vertical column equal to that force.” It then goes on to investigate generally the
curvature of the surface of the water, and gives the simple formulae ^zd and -^<1, for the ascent of that liquid between
glass plates or within the bore of glass tubes, the mutual distance or diameter being denoted in inches by d.
2 Supplement to the fourth, fifth, and sixth editions, vol. IV. p. by.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
f)17
3. ELECTRICITY.
Electricity has, from very small beginnings,
risen in the space of little more than half a
century to the rank of a Science, superficial in¬
deed, but full of interest and splendour. With¬
out engaging the attention of profound philoso¬
phers, it owes its progress chiefly to the ardent
application of ingenious experimentalists. In
this department Hauksbee,1 a diligent and skil¬
ful operator, made some considerable advances
soon after the commencement of the eighteenth
century. He marked the circumstances of elec¬
trical attraction and repulsion, and observed the
production of light by friction both in air and
in vacuo. But to him succeeded a more fortu¬
nate explorer of Nature—Stephen Gray—a pen¬
sioner of the Charter House, a man of recluse
and peculiar habits, and no great reach of mind,
yet allured to the pursuit by curiosity and the
gleams of fancy. The apparatus he employed
was very humble, suited to his slender means.
About the year 1720 he gave a catalogue of bo¬
dies, which show electricity on being rubbed by
the hand, including most substances, except the
metals which he could not excite. But in 1732
he was led by a chain of accidents to discover
the conducting property inherent in certain bodies,
by which they are distinguished from such as
may become electrical. The fundamental facts
thus elicited were in 1739 arranged perspicu¬
ously by Desaguliers, who framed the inter¬
changeable epithets Conductors and Non-electrics,
and Non-conductors and Electrics, and proposed
the term Insulation to denote the interrupted
communication of electrical virtue. In the mean¬
while Dufay,2 keeper of the King’s Garden at
Paris, availing himself of these discoveries, ad¬
vanced in the investigation with a keener and
more philosophical spirit. Between the years
1733 and 1739 he detected two opposite kinds
of electricity, which he called the Vitreous and
the Resinous, the former being excited by rub¬
bing glass, crystal, and other kindred substances,
and the latter by the friction of amber, lac, rosin,
&c.; and he gave a clear view of the ph sen omen a
of electrical attraction and repulsion, by demon¬
strating that bodies similarly electrified mu¬
tually repel, while those dissimilarly electrified
attract each other.
Electricity began about this period to draw ge¬
neral notice, and accordingly more efficient means
were employed for the exhibition of its properties.
The friction of a glass tube or stick of sealing-
wax by the hand was abandoned for the adoption
of a large wheel to whirl swiftly a globe or cylin¬
der under the pressure of a cushion. Otto Gue¬
ricke had used for the same purpose a globe of
sulphur, and Hauksbee one of glass; but the ad¬
vantage of applying a cushion was not immedi¬
ately perceived. One or more gun-barrels sus¬
pended horizontally by silk cords, and having
small bundles of linen threads fastened to the
nearer ends, formed the prime conductors. Such
was the clumsy machine then constructed in
Germany, and thence introduced into France
and England. The curious found amusement
in drawing sparks and firing inflammable sub¬
stances ; and experiments of that sort were in¬
geniously varied and multiplied. The analogy
of Lightning to the Electrical Flash could not
fail to be remarked, though their absolute iden¬
tity was not yet proved. Recourse was now had
to electric agency, for the mitigation or cure of
certain chronic disorders; and with that view
principally were different substances subjected
to its immediate influence.
The attempt to electrify water in a phial sus¬
pended by a hook from the prime conductor,
gave occasion at this time to a discovery which
constitutes an epoch in the annals of science.
The experiment appears to have been originally
performed in Poland, but was repeated in No¬
vember 1745 by Cuneus and Lai 1 emaild at Ley-
1 Francis Hauksbee. Of this ingenious man, the best experimenter of his time, it is mortifying that so little should he
recorded. Neither the date of his birth nor of his death is known ; but he flourished between the years 1709 and 1791, and
appears to have been Curator to the Royal Society of London.
a Born in 1(598 at Paris, where he died in 1739. He was son of an officer in the French Guards, and had spent his
youth in the military profession, which he quitted for the study of chemistry and botany.
DISS. IV. - { 4 I
618
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
den, and described by Musschenbroeck. It bence
acquired the appellation of the Leyden Phial or
Jar, and consists of a jar or plate of glass cover¬
ed or coated on both sides, to near the top or
edge, by a metallic leaf or other conducting sur¬
face, which renders it capable of holding a very
high charge of accumulated electricity. By this
wonderful invention, a power was obtained in¬
comparably greater than any former exhibition
of electrical influence. The shock or convulsive
agitation accompanying the discharge of a loaded
jar through the nervous system, at first inspired
terror, and still continues to excite surprise and
astonishment. The swiftness of electrical com¬
munication thus displayed seemed to exceed the
rapidity of thought itself. Nollet,1 a popular
lecturer on Experimental Philosophy at Paris,
sent the shock with instantaneous effect through a
whole regiment of guards; and Watson,2 * * an in¬
genious physician in London, could discover no
interval of time in its transmission by a circuit
of about six miles, formed partly by a wire, hut
mostly by the course of the river Thames.
Various attempts were now made to explain
the electrical phsenomena. The ordinary class of
philosophers had so long indulged the belief of
ethereal media, that they were easily induced to
ascribe the powers of electricity to the agency of
such a subtile fluid, which might seem at length
revealed to our observation. Dufay showed that
the electrical machine draws its supply from the
ground, and Watson advanced a step farther, in
assuming that every substance naturally holds a
certain share of the fluid, which in a charged
jar is redundant on the one side and deficient on
the other, or distributed in a positive and negative
state. The credit of inventing this Theory has
been assigned to the celebrated Franklin,5 who
might probably without communication have hit
on the same idea, and is certainly entitled to the
merit of expounding it in a clear and interesting
manner. The shrewd American, without pos¬
sessing any superlative talents, or the advantages
of education, had, by industry, judgment, and
perseverance, raised himself to a conspicuous sta¬
tion in society. Having some tincture of science,
and a taste for experiments, he was peculiarly for¬
tunate in choosing a subject of inquiry which so
well accorded with the pitch of his acquirements.
He had repeatedly visited England, and after his
return to America he maintained a constant inter¬
change of letters with his friend Peter Collinson,
a wealthy grocer in London, but a zealous bota¬
nist, who valued learning, and held a regular and
extensive correspondence over Europe. Through
this channel of communication, was Franklin
early apprized of whatever chanced to engage
attention in the scientific world; and his obser¬
vations were in their turn quickly transmitted
across the Atlantic, and conveyed from England
to France and Germany. Having carefully
studied the important art of writing, he had at¬
tained a style remarkably simple and perspicu¬
ous, which gave the best effect to all his compo¬
sitions. His explication of the Leyden Jar, from
the redundancy and defect of a single fluid, was
favourably received both at home and abroad;
though the hypothesis of a vitreous and a resin¬
ous fluid, proposed by Dufay, and generally pre¬
ferred on the Continent, appeared to explain the
principal facts with equal readiness and facility.
But it was reserved for the American philo¬
sopher to complete a grander discovery, which,
though unreasonably extolled, is the foundation
of his permanent fame. The similarity of Elec¬
tricity and Lightning already struck several ex¬
perimenters ; and the Abbe Nollet had in 1746
drawn a parallel, in which he compared the con-
1 John Anthony Nollet, born at Pimpre, in the district of Noyon, on the 19th of November 1790. From that obscure
retreat he was drawn by his growing reputation; and his amiable character secured the support and encouragement of
zealous friends. He had the advantage of visiting England and Italy, and those journeys procured him the favour of the
King of Sardinia, and afterwards the patronage of the Royal Family of France. Enjoying some appointments at Paris,
he tor many years gave regular courses of Natural Philosophy, and by his popular and eloquent lectures, and his skill
in preparing and exhibiting the illustrative experiments, he spread a general taste for science. His elementary works,
without aiming at originality, are remarkably neat and clear. He died much regretted on the 24th of April 1779-
2 William Watson, born in London in 1715. Bred an apothecary; and being very prosperous, he turned physician.
He was active and ingenious, with some talents, and still greater pretensions. By his ardour he extended considerably
the knowledge of Electricity. He died in 1787, having the year before obtained the honour of knighthood.
* Benjamin Franklin, born at Boston in 1708, and died at Philadelphia on the 17th of April 1790. His political career
is well known, and his literary progress has been sufficiently appreciated.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
CIO
glomeration of thunder-clouds to the prime con¬
ductor of an electrical machine. Winkler next,
and with more decided arguments, contended for
the identity of those powers. Franklin, following
the same train of speculation, enumerated in a
clear and methodical order the different circum¬
stances of resemblance. But it was necessary to
pass the circle of mere probabilities, and he pro¬
posed as the final proof to have recourse to direct
observation. His suggestion was, to erect on the
top of some eminence a tapering iron rod 40 feet
high, which he conceived would attract electricity
from the charged thunder-clouds. Preparations
were accordingly made in France for trying that
hold experiment. In the spring of 1752, Dali-
bard, a distinguished botanist, had an iron rod 40
feet in height tied with silk cords to a post in the
neighbourhood of Paris, the lower end being pro¬
tected from rain by a sort of sentry-box. The ap¬
paratus was, during his absence, intrusted to the
charge of a resolute carpenter, who watching
the first appearance of a thunder-storm on the
10th of May, ran to the spot, drew sparks from
the rod, and, assisted by the curate of the vil¬
lage, actually charged an electric jar. The
demonstration of the nature of Lightning was
thus rendered complete; but an experiment so
wonderful deserved repetition. It was eagerly
performed, under the direction of Buffon, in the
Royal Garden at P^ris ; and, during the months
of July and August, it was tried with the same
results near London, where Canton succeeded in
detecting atmospheric electricity by means of a
common fishing-rod.
Intelligence now came from America, that
Franklin had performed his experiment in a
finer style. Not having the opportunity of an
eminence in the flat country around Phila¬
delphia, he imagined the expedient of employ¬
ing a boy’s kite, to gain a great elevation in the
air. To the end of the hempen string, from
which hung a small key, he fastened a piece of
silk cord, for holding in his hand. On the 15th
of June in the afternoon, while a storm was ga¬
thering, he walked into the fields, and, assisted
by his son, he launched the kite, when, to his
inexpressible delight, he saw the loose fibres
stretch out from the string, heard a snapping
noise, and observed the pendant key not only to
attract light substances, but to give sparks on
approaching his knuckle. These were all deci¬
sive marks of electrical action, and answered his
most sanguine expectations. The success of
this trial encouraged him to entertain the daring
project of turning aside the stroke of heaven,
and of guarding our edifices from the ravages
of thunder, by the erection of lofty conductors.
These views, combined with amusing experi¬
ments and lively speculations, were explained
at great length, and in a very easy and pleasing
manner, in the series of letters to Collinson, and
through his friendship printed at London in
1755, and immediately translated into the French
language, and circulated with zeal and rapidity
over Europe.1
Notwithstanding the enthusiasm excited by
the dispersion, of that work, the scheme of an¬
nexing conductors to buildings was yet slowly
adopted. The first one erected was by Watson,
at his villa near London, in 1762; two years
afterwards, they appeared in Germany; and not
till the year 1776 were they applied to pro¬
tect some cathedrals in Bavaria and Italy.
They have spread since in all directions, espe¬
cially on the Continent, flowing, it might seem,
with the tide of Franklin’s political celebrity.
But his famed hypothesis, if examined strict¬
ly, will be found to rest merely on the extension
of Arague analogical considerations. If a pointed
wire sensibly draw electricity at the distance of a
foot from the prime conductor, through what a
wide range, it is argued, must a long tapering rod
shoot its influence in the vast magazine of the
atmosphere ! It may be shown, however, that
the point acts only on the electrified air which
streams from the machine, and by repelling
again laterally those affluent particles, facilitates
their continued flow. The slightest impediment
to the motion of the aerial currents reduces the
action of the point; while, on the contrary, a knob
or blunt termination may acquire the same in¬
fluence as a pointed end, if the flow of electrified
1 It deserves to be noted, that the Royal Society, which rarely extends its patronage to untried merit, had refused these
ingenious letters a place in their Transactions.
020
PRELIMINARY DISSERTA TIONS.
air towards it be maintained, either by rendering
the ball very hot, or by sticking to it a small
lighted taper. The idea of stealing the lightning
from the thunder-cloud, and silently disarming
the fulminating agent, is therefore utterly chi¬
merical. To produce such an effect, the whole
body of succumbent air must discharge its elec¬
tric store, by actually coming in successive
contact with the end of the rod. And, in what
reasonable length of time could that extended
communication be accomplished? Butit isequal-
ly futile to suppose, that the terminating of the
rod by a point could have the slightest influence,
in tempting or leading the thunder-stroke towards
any particular spot. Yet such was the main
argument used in the famous dispute which once
agitated the scientific world, with regard to the
comparative advantages of terminating the con¬
ductors with points or with knobs.
But though any attempt to avert the course
of thunder seem preposterous, it is of extreme
importance to consider whether the intervention
of a proper conductor may not mitigate, or even
render innocuous, the fulminating stroke. The
coruscation of lightning resembles most the
electric spark, its tortuous path being marked
by the violent divulsion of the aerial track. The
rapidity of transit might indeed be regarded as
instantaneous; but Helvig has lately endea¬
voured, in Germany, to measure it by help of the
Camera Lucida, and estimates it, from probable
conjecture, at 8 or 10 miles in a second, or aboA^e
40 times swifter than sound. According to the
ingenious Gay-Lussac, lightning often darts at
once more than three miles in a rectilineal path.
The ordinary classing of conductors into per¬
fect or imperfect, is very loose and unsatisfactory.
Their true distinction consists in the time they
require, however short this may be, for the trans¬
mission of electrical energy. From a set of pecu¬
liar experiments, it would appear that the copper
transmits this virtue more than a thousand times
quicker than water, which again conveys it
several thousand times faster than dry stone.
But all the particles of the conductor are thrown
during the passage into a state of vehement re¬
pulsion, and, consequently? the disruptive effect
must be proportioned to the interval of action.
A copper tube, or ribband, of even moderate di¬
mensions, if well spread over the roof and con¬
tinued into the ground, may hence be sufficient
to protect a house from thunder, by reducing
exceedingly the duration of the repulsive efforts.
Iron, which is generally employed, conducts
tAventy times sloA\rer than copper; and lead is still
worse adapted for the purpose, since it conducts
about a hundred times sloAver. The electrical
energy being comreyed chiefly along the surface
of bodies, sheet-copper should decidedly be pre¬
ferred for the substance of a conductor.1
Thunder-rods of the oi’dinary construction have
been now tried seventy years, and the accidents
from lightning seem just as numerous and in¬
discriminate as before. The public is gradually
losing its confidence, therefore, in the efficacy
of those vaunted protectors ; but, in spite of such
warnings, philosophers are most unwilling to
descend from their proud eminence. When any
sinister eAent occurs, they are solicitous to find
excuses and parry objections. They recommend
the conductors to be planted nearer, carried
higher, and perhaps armed Avith a cluster of
points. It may require a feAV more of such fa¬
tal accidents as the late explosion, in France, of
a protected poAvder-magazine, to demolish finally
the Franklinian hypothesis. -
But the injury caused by the stroke of light¬
ning is, in this climate, much less considerable,
after all, than has been generally believed. The
loss of human life by thunder-storms over Eu¬
rope appears not to exceed annually, perhaps, one
individual in three millions. The damage to
property from such appalling discharges is like-
Avise comparatively small. The ravages inflicted
on the Continent by shoAvers of hail are of a
more formidable kind. Those frozen masses are
often large, and fall with such terrible force as
in the space of a feAV hours to tear in pieces the
vines and batter down the fields of corn oArer
wide and fertile districts. It Avas an object
therefore of still greater moment to mitigate,
if possible, the fury of such rageful storms.
1 On this important subject see a paper on Electrical Points and Conductors, in the first number of Professor Jameson’s
Philosophical Journal, published in 1823.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
621
About the year 1776, several speculative expe¬
rimenters, conceiving electricity promoted con¬
gelation, and therefore the conversion of the
drops of rain into solid icicles, proposed erect¬
ing thunder-rods to prevent the formation of
hail. It was even suggested, in aid of those pro¬
tectors, to kindle fires on the high grounds, and
to shake the atmosphere by the discharge of
mortars. But Heinich showed the futility of
all such expedients, in a dissertation printed in
the Bavarian Transactions for 1785; and, except
the notice of a curious experiment by Seiferheld
in 1790, the question seems to have sunk into
oblivion. The attention of the public, however,
was again for a moment recalled in 1800, by the
offer of a prize from the Physical Society at
Berlin ; but the successful candidates, Wrede
and Weiss, proved that hailstones had no con¬
nexion with Electricity, and that the various
expedients tried for averting them were entirely
fallacious. The subject seemed deservedly for¬
gotten for twenty years, but has been lately re¬
vived again by the periodical folly of mankind.
La Postolle, apparently a zealous visionary, pro¬
posed in France with the utmost confidence, as
a complete safeguard against the ravages of hail,
the erection of a tall wooden pole with straw
ropes hanging loosely from the top of it to the
ground. He was followed in 1823 by Thollard,
another projector equally sanguine. But as the
world is governed by names, the powerful talis¬
man or lofty thatched pole received the sound¬
ing, though not very classical, appellation of
Paragrele or Paragrandino. Certificates of its
efficacy flowed in from all parts; the storm-
clouds were seen by veracious witnesses collect¬
ing over those poles, and rolling their hail¬
stones harmless along the straw to the ground.
The cultivators of the mountain districts on the
confines of France, Switzerland, Italy, and Ger¬
many, seemed enchanted by the discovery, and
whole fields were planted with those Paragrtles,
which, like embattled spears, dared the front of
heaven. The question relative to the utility of
Hail-Protectors was now referred to the Institute
of France; but that learned body, though it
clung to the charm of the Thunder-Rod or
Paratonnerre, rejected with scorn the pretensions
of the Paragrele. But the faith of the believers
was not so easily shaken, and a succession of
angry and querulous pamphlets for a while kept
up the dispute. Yet we may infer that the con¬
fidence in the efficacy of such notable protectors
is fast declining, since an old auxiliary—the agi¬
tation of the air by the firing of mortars—has
been recalled to their aid.1
In the latter part of the eighteenth century,
Electricity was enriched by a continual acces¬
sion of curious facts and experiments. New
instruments were devised, of nicer construc¬
tion, to measure the intensity of electrical at¬
tractions and repulsions. The catalogue of
electrics themselves was not only extended,
but rendered more definite, by distinguish¬
ing the opposite qualities of the substances rub¬
bed. Some steps have likewise been made
towards a more precise theory. If a ball elec¬
trified vitreously be approached to an insulated
cylinder, the nearer end will assume the resin¬
ous electricity, while the remoter extremity will
indicate the vitreous; the limit of neutrality al¬
ways advancing to the approximating ball. This
capital experiment appears to furnish the true
explication of the Leyden Jar. But it involves
a more extensive principle: Pressure may be con¬
sidered as only close apposition, and friction is
evidently a case of repeated pressure. Hence the
action of the Electrical Machine itself, and hence
likewise the theory of that beautiful contrivance,
the Electrophorus, first announced by Wilke of
Stockholm in 1762, but named and fully de¬
scribed in 1776 by Volta2 of Como, to whom
electrical science was afterwards so much in-
1 Orioli, professor of Natural Philosophy at Bologna, seems not disposed to acquiesce in the decision of the Academy of
Sciences at Paris. He appeals to the liberality and opulence of the French nation, and gravely recommends it to plant
paiagreles, armed with metallic wires about 40 feet high, and not more than 500 feet apart, over its wide territory; and
farther proposes that the experiment should be continued for ten years, under the inspection of some competent agricul¬
tural board. If the sum of 100,000 livres has been raised at his suggestion for that project in the small province ot Bologna,
what might not be expected from the munificence of such a kingdom as France ?
2 Alexander Volta, descended of an ancient family in the north of Italy, and born in 1745. He embraced the clerical
profession ; but, devoting himself to the pursuits of natural science, he was appointed to the chair of physics at Pavia in
1774- Electricity engaged his attention, and the observations of Galvani opened to him that brilliant career of discovery
622
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
debted for its extension. The Vindicating Elec¬
tricity of Beccaria and the Returning Stroke of
Lord Mahon depend on the same property. Of
a like nature is the accumulation of Electricity
by the Doubler and other instruments of that
sort.
It appears that the electrical state of bodies
suffers a modification from e very change of their
chemical or mechanical constitution. Such al¬
terations are detected by delicate Electrometers,
of which the best perhaps may he the gold-leaf one
proposed by Bennet in 1787. The origin of
atmospheric Electricity is finely illustrated by
that sensible instrument, which shows an evo¬
lution or an absorption during the condensation
of vapour or the transition of water into steam.
Hence a cloud suddenly collected from the con¬
globating vapours is vitreously charged, and
flashes its lightnings, which, by the succussion
of the air in their devious lengthened tracks,
conveyed to our ears with the tardiness of sound,
occasion the prolonged rolling noise of thunder.
The power of benumbing the touch, which be¬
longs to a certain fish of the ray kind, thence
called the Torpedo, and very frequent in the Medi¬
terranean, had been remarked from the earliest
times. This singular property was now sus¬
pected to be owing to electrical influence; and
the zeal of Walsh in 1773 converted the con¬
jecture into demonstration, showing by satisfac¬
tory experiments that the animal could send its
shock only through conducting substances. But
the power of stunning its prey is possessed in a
much higher degree by a large species of eel,
the Silurus Electricus, which was originally
brought from Surinam, and abounds in the
pools and sluggish streams of the hot region of
Venezuela. From a healthy specimen exhibited
in London, vivid sparks were drawn in a dark¬
ened room. But from a rapid emission of shocks,
these animals suffer great prostration of strength;
and the celebrated Humboldt gives an amusing
account of the method of catching them in New
Spain, by driving into the waters where they
resort, a number of horses, which, though stun¬
ned by the multiplied succussions, yet generally
recover and withstand those attacks, till the eels
themselves become quite exhausted, and are
dragged out helpless. It appears from dissec¬
tion, that the Silurus Electricus is furnished with
a very peculiar and complex nervous apparatus,
which has been fancifully compared to an elec¬
trical battery. But we are entitled only to in¬
fer, that the animal is endued with a faculty of
modifying, by sudden compression or otherwise,
its internal constitution, and consequently its
electrical condition.
Electrical agency, by effecting new combina¬
tions among substances, has contributed essen¬
tially to the advancement of Chemistry. Caven¬
dish discovered the composition of nitric acid in
1788, bypassing successive sparks through a mix¬
ture composed of certain portions of the oxygen¬
ous and azotic gases. By a similar process, he
found atmospheric air to consist of the same ele¬
ments, only combined in a different proportion.
But his fine discovery of the composition of water
was afterwards confirmed, by concentrating the
effort of electrical repulsion, in the experiment
that Dr Pearson, assisted by Cuthbertson, an
expert electrician, performed in 1799, which
evolved those gaseous components. This sa¬
tisfactory experiment has been since greatly
simplified, by one of those happy miniature con¬
trivances, in which the late very ingenious
Dr Wollaston so much excelled.
Electricity can be transmitted through the
several gases; and the light which it then extri¬
cates is brighter in proportion to the condensed
state of the medium. As the air becomes rarer,
the projected spark assumes a spreading lam¬
bent appearance, through all the gradations of
colour, from white to yellow, orange, and purple,
vanishing into the faintest violet. The most
copious display of purperine gleams appears
when the air is rarefied about 1000 times, which
corresponds to an altitude of thirty-five miles in
the atmosphere. Such may be the proper region
of the diffuse and tremulous coruscations of the
which will render his name immortal. Volta was particularly distinguished by the liberal and discerning patronage of
Napoleon. During the fervour of reform and revolution, he laid aside the ecclesiastical habits, and married; hut, in the decline
of life, the early impressions regained their ascendancy, and compunction for the breach of the vow of celibacy preyed on
his spirits, and undermined his health. H§ died on the Gth of March 1826.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
623
Aurora Borealis, which is decidedly an electrical
phenomenon. If the rarefaction be pushed far¬
ther) the luminous appearance grows always
fainter, till it becomes extinct. Accordingly,
Morgan1 found by a very careful experiment that
an electrical charge is not conducted through a
Torricellian vacuum,—an important discovery,
since it shows that Electricity, like Heat, can
exist only in a state of combination with its re¬
cipient substances.
The close of the eighteenth century was dis¬
tinguished by the accession of a new branch of
Electrical Science, more brilliant and astonish¬
ing than even the parent stock. It originated
in a fortunate incident which occurred in the
year 1790. Galvani, whose name it hears, pro¬
fessor of anatomy at Bologna, remarked, in the
course of his demonstrations, that the limbs of a
dissected frog were strongly convulsed at every
spark which one of his pupils happened to draw
from the prime conductor of an electrical ma¬
chine standing in the immediate vicinity.2 Being
thus led to consider the subject, he made several
curious experiments, and published a Disserta¬
tion on Animal Electricity, which engaged very
general attention. The femoral muscles of a
frog, bared of their integuments, hut left connect¬
ed with the trunk of nerves, were found to serve
as a most delicate sort of electrometer. With this
aid, it was easy to trace the faintest vestiges of
electrical influence, and to contrast the proper¬
ties of various conductors. The very weakest
chemical solutions, the mere contact of different
metals, nay the apposition of animal fibres, were
all found in their several degrees to develope
electricity. But the simplest mode of exciting
it is, by the mutual application of small plates or
discs of copper and zinc. Dr Robison made a ca¬
pital improvement, in proposing a pillar of those
discs, like a rouleauof half-crowns, to augment by
their combination the intensity of effect. This
happy idea seems to have been overlooked, when
Volta in 1800 invented his famous Pile; the
most energetic instrument of all electxico-che-
mical analysis, and commencing deservedly a
new epoch in physical science. By Crookshanks
it was rendered far more commodious, in being
converted into the Galvanic Trough; which,
again enlarged into Batteries sometimes of enor¬
mous extent or dimensions, has conducted Davy,
Berzelius, and others, to the most splendid and
wonderful discoveries.
The Voltaic Pile is only a modification of the
Electrical Battery; but its peculiar action may
assume two distinct features. It either exerts
the slowness and duration of repulsive force, or
displays the most intense concentration of that
power. Hence the opposite effects produced by
very large single plates, and by a very numer¬
ous series of small ones. Light and heat are
most copiously projected from their recipients
by the former, while chemical decomposition is
effected with the greatest energy by the latter.
But it would require much patient and profound
investigation, to discover the working of such
recondite principles.
The original design of this discourse was to
come no lower than the early part of the present
century, and to avoid discussing the merits of
contemporaries. But I cannot resist the pleasure
of noticing the signal advance which Electricity
has lately made. Its close connexion, if not
perfect identity, with Magnetism had been long
suspected, and was even adopted by several in¬
genious theorists. This affinity found a most
zealous supporter in Ritter; but the fancy and
mysticism blended with his opinions had begun
before the year 1818 to weaken their influence.
In this state of uncertainty, Professor Oerstedt
of Copenhagen, happening, in the course of Ins
lectures during the winter of 1819-20, to show
his pupils the intense heat excited in a small
wire of platinum, laid horizontally and nearly
1 A very ingenious person, who died young, being nephew to Dr Price, and brother of the able Actuary of the Equitable
Assurance Company.
2 The Germans lay claim to the origin of Galvanism. Sulze, about the middle of the eighteenth century, had, in his
work on Taste, noticed the singular impression made on the tongue by the contact of two distinct metals. But Zimmerman
has lately produced a passage from the BiUia Naturae, a book published at Leipsic in 1752 by Swammerdam, in which the
author mentions his having observed the convulsions of the muscle of a frog held against a glass tube by a silver wire
pendant from a ring of brass. Such facts are curious, and deserve attention ; but every honourable mind must pity or scorn
that invidious spirit with which some unhappy jackals hunt after imperfect and neglected anticipations, with a view of de¬
tracting from the merit of full discovery.
624
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
in the direction from east to west, to join the
conductors from the copper and zinc plates of a
Galvanic Battery, thought of placing under it a
small compass, and the needle was observed in¬
stantly to turn aside as if it had been drawn by
another magnet. This surprising fact was not
much heeded by him at the time; but having
afterwards carefully traced the conditions of the
experiment, he published near the close of the
year 1820 his great discovery, which awakened
the public attention, and gave rise to numerous
speculations that frolic in the giddy maze of
electric and magnetic currents.
It must indeed be confessed, that after all
the progress which Electricity and its younger
branch Galvanism have made, the hypotheses
commonly received are exceedingly vague and
unphilosophical. In cultivating these attrac¬
tive sciences, experimenters would seem to sa¬
tisfy themselves with the exercise of a looser
and humbler species of reasoning. It is rather
amusing to observe the complacency with which
some ingenious persons describe the play and
vagaries of an Electrical Current, whose exist¬
ence was never proved. We are acquainted
only with electric attraction and repulsion, and
with the transmission of electric influence : All
beyond these elementary principles, rests on
hasty conjecture. Instead of adopting one or two
fluids, it were safer to suspend the assumption
of any. We can perceive no distinctive marks
of the operation of a fluid, which is often con¬
founded with the mere luminous track occasion¬
ed by the particles of Light disengaged from the
substance of the conductor; the colour of emis¬
sion being modified by the peculiar character
and intensity of the retaining force.
The Theories proposed by iEpinus and Caven¬
dish are entitled, however, to the praise of great
ingenuity, and may serve to connect with ele¬
gance the chain of principal facts. The latter
most accurate philosopher likewise stated tjie
immense disproportion in the celerity of differ¬
ent conductors, though he did not explain the
grounds of his conclusions. Coulomb agreed
with him in limiting electrical diffusion to the
surface of bodies; and the Balance of Torsion
showed the intensity of attractive and repulsive
power to be inversely as the square of the dis¬
tance. These were real discoveries, deduced
from nice and cautious observation; but his
countryman Poisson has since exercised profound
skill in the play of analysis, by attempts to ex¬
plore the hypothetical influence of Electricity,
without having arrived, however, at any con¬
clusion that is not obvious or of no value.1
4. MAGNETISM.
Nearly allied to Electricity is the science of
Magnetism. The property of attracting iron
possessed by a certain stone or metallic ore, was
known from the remotest times ; but the direc¬
tive power^ or disposition to turn always to¬
wards the north, that most wonderful property
which guides the modern navigator over the dark
and desert expanse of ocean, lay hid through a
long succession of ages. This remarkable sub¬
stance derived its name among the Greeks from
Magnesia, a district of Macedonia, where it was
chiefly found.
The Magnetic Compass, with the art of dis¬
tillation, which was never practised by the an¬
cient Greeks or Romans, seems to have been
discovered in Upper Asia, and thence commu¬
nicated by their Tartarian conquerors to the
Chinese. From them again, the knowledge of
the invention spread gradually over the East.
The Crusaders, during the occupation of their
bloody conquests in those regions, had leisure to
admire the arts acquired by their more civilized
rivals. Having their curiosity thus awakened,
they appear, about the latter part of the twelfth
century, to have imported into Europe the
Compass, along with the substance which, mis¬
taking it for Natron, they called Salt Petre, and of
which they had learned the deflagrating property.
That invaluable instrument was at first very
rudely formed, consisting merely of a piece ot
1 Such abuse of a noble science would have merited the censure of the Dunciad :
Or set on Analytic ground to prance,
Show all his paces, not a step advance.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
625
the native mmei al fixed to a broad cork, and tated its structure, by fashioning a magnet into
se o oat in a ish of water. An artist of the a small sphere or terrella, and hence illustrated
opu ent town of Amalphi, the great emporium the declination of the needle, as well as its dip,
of the East, and seated on the shore of Calabria, or the position which it takes when, after being-
in ie irect route of the Crusaders, improved poised freely on its centre of gravity, it receives
e construction, and marked the north point by the magnetic virtue,—a property which had been
a Fleur-de-Lis, the armorial bearing of the king- first noticed by his countryman Robert Norman
dom of Naples. From its directive property, in 1576. But something more was required to
it was now called in English the Loadstone or explain completely the directive property of the
Leading Stone. About a century afterwards, needle. If a magnetized sewing needle be set
the method of communicating magnetism by the to swim on the surface of water or quicksilver,
touch was probably discovered, the needle or it will not advance towards the north, but readily
small bar of steel so treated being then applied traverse in that direction. In fact, while the
to a card suspended on a pivot. The Germans one end is attracted, the other is equally repel-
bisected successively the eight cardinal divisions, led, by the vast magnetic power of the earth con-
which had satisfied the Romans and the Chi- centrated below the Arctic Region, but having
nese, into sixteen and thirty-two points, to really the same quality as what was first named
which they gave those compound names which the South Pole of the needle. Those antagonist
are still retained. About this period, when ob- forces will have no influence therefore to draw
servations were not very precise, the needle was it forwards; but if it be turned aside, they will
judged to turn nearly towards the north; but combine their oblique action to bring it back
Columbus, in his first voyage of discovery, found into its meridional position,
it to decline from the meridian as he advanced Gilbert’s original work was republished at
on the Atlantic; and this apparent change of the Ferrara in 1629, with a commentary by Cabaus,
laws of nature occurred under circumstances a Jesuit; and fourteen years afterwards another
which would have appalled a less determined member of that learned fraternity, Kircher, a
commander. The variation of the compass, how- man of singular talent and immense erudition,
e\er, was distinctly noted in the year 1500 by produced at Cologne a full treatise on Magnet*
Cabot, another celebrated Italian navigator. ism, which contained little, however, of sound
Magnetism made little further progress, till doctrine, but abundance of fanciful speculation.
Di Gilbert, the founder of experimental science Hooke remarked the debilitating effect of heat
in England, explored the subject by a course of on the power of the magnet. Newton appears
patient and skilful investigation. To this emi- to have sometimes amused himself with mag-
nent philosopher we are indebted for the disco- netical experiments, but did not bestow much
very of the few connecting principles. Every thought on the subject: He was disposed to
magnet, whether natural or artificial, has its consider the force exerted as reciprocally pro¬
powers concentrated in two opposite points, portional to the cube of the distance,
termed the north and south poles; and the si- The celebrated Halley, who, by his ingenuity,
milar poles of separate magnets repel each other, learning, zeal, and enterprise, contributed so
while their dissimilar poles exert a mutual at- largely to the promotion of physical science,
traction. When a piece of soft iron is approxi- now turned his attention to the subject of ter-
mated to a magnet, it becomes itself a magnet, restrial magnetism. In 1683, and more dis-
the nearest end assuming an opposite polarity, tinctly in 1692, be endeavoured to explain the
and therefore being constantly attracted. If a declination of the needle and its variations, by
long iron bar be held in a position nearly verti- supposing the Earth to be a hollow sphere with
cal, its lower extremity is always found to ma- two opposite magnetic poles, but having another
nifest the properties of a north pole; and, from solid sphere, of analogous polarity, which re-
this induced power, Gilbert legitimately inferred volved slowly within it. From this bold hypo-
the magnetism of our globe. He likewise imi- thesis, of two fixed, combined with two mov-
DISS. iv. 4 K
626
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
able poles, lie sought to calculate the changes of
internal constitution that are continually going
forward. At a time when the method of find¬
ing the longitude at sea was extremely imper¬
fect, he proposed the variation of the compass
observed in different latitudes, as an easy way of
obtaining at least an approximation to that im¬
portant problem. With this view it was neces¬
sary to collect numerous observations made at
remote points on the ocean; and in 1699 Halley
obtained the command of two small sloops of
war, with the rank of post-captain, the better
to insure subordination among the crews. Thus
equipped and empowered, he traversed the
vast Atlantic, diligently exploring both hemi¬
spheres, till he was arrested by the icy bar¬
riers. On his return in the following year, en¬
riched with a store of various information, he
published his Magnetical Chart, in which the
limits corresponding on the surface of the globe
to every five degrees of declination, were marked
by certain curve lines formed by connecting the
points of observation. This was the model of
all the charts of a similar nature which have
been since constructed. One of the most noted
was produced by Mountain and Dodson in 1744i,
and again improved in 1756.1 Wilke laid down
another in 1772, and Lambert sketched out a
third in 1776. But the most accurate and com¬
plete magnetic chart that has yet appeared, was
published by Churchman in 1794. The value
of such delineations, however, is unfortunately
diminished by the errors proceeding from the
local attraction of the magnetic needle, which
were quite overlooked at that period.
Between the years 1712 and 1725, numerous
experiments were made by Hauksbee, Brook
Taylor, and Musschenbroeck, to determine the
relation of the intensity of magnetic force to the
distance of its action; but though the power ap¬
peared to decrease most rapidly with its remote¬
ness, no satisfactory conclusion was obtained.
The cause of this failure must be imputed to the
intermixing, in the statement of the results, no
fewer than four distinct forces, emanating from
the several poles. Taylor, the most acute of those
observers, reckoned the magnetic force, if exerted
very near, to be inversely as the square, but
when more remote, as the cube, of the distance.
It was reserved for Coulomb,2 sixty years after¬
wards, to discover the true law of magnetic at¬
traction and repulsion, by means of his delicate
Balance of Torsion, though the same deduction
had been previously announced by the ingenious
Lambert. The earlier experimenters had sought
to ascertain those forces by the loads required
to effect a separation, or to counterbalance their
action. Graham proposed the more precise me¬
thod of computing the magnetic forces, from the
number of vibrations performed in a given time
by the needle; but his suggestion was overlooked,
to be invented again, and generally adopted.
The properties of the magnet appear myste¬
rious, though reducible to a few primary facts.
But to discover the great pervading principle,
still baffles the ingenuity and penetration of the
most ardent research. The supposition of a
subtile permeating fluid is very generally em¬
braced, though it rather darkens than elucidates
the subject. Yet it seemed to receive counte¬
nance, from the curve lines marked out by iron-
filings when strewed on a sheet of paper or a
plate of glass laid over one or more magnetic
bars. On a hasty glance, these traces might be
regarded as indicating the circulation of an in¬
visible fluid. Euler, whose strength lay in the
command of analysis, went so far as to imagine
that the pores of the magnet were furnished
with a sort of valves, which permitted the en¬
trance of the current and prevented its return.
But this amusing experiment is most easily and
satisfactorily explained, from the composition of
the attractive or repulsive forces centred in the
magnetic poles. The curves delineated by the
filamentous chains, when two dissimilar poles arc
exerted, resemble elliptical arcs, but seem hyper¬
bolic ones, if two similar poles unite their action.
The magnetic curve is distinguished by some
1 These laborious compilers in 1757 gave a table of no fewer than 50,000 observations arranged corresponding to the
years 1700, 1710, 1720, 1730, 1744, and 1756. They found it impossible, however, to reduce all the changes to calculation.
s Charles Augustin Coulomb, a most accurate and ingenious experimenter, was born at Angouleme in 1736, and died at
Paris on the 23d of August 1806. Iteceiving his education in that capital, he embraced the military profession, and was
sent as engineer to the island of Martinique. He afterwards held various employments, and might have risen to the highest
distinction, if he had been as compliant with the times as some others of his countrymen.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
627
remarkable properties, and one of the most
beautiful may be cited : It is, that if from the
same points in the axis, tangents be drawn to
them, the several points of contact will range
in the circumference of a circle.1
iEpinus adopted the hypothesis of an active
fluid, to explain the phsenomena both of Mag¬
netism and Electricity, and endeavoured to re¬
duce its operations to great simplicity. Brug-
man and others have entertained similar notions.
But admitting the ingenuity of such conceptions,
they enable us merely to shift the difficulties.
We must imagine the constitution of the un¬
known fluid, while the properties of the magnet
itself are obvious to the senses. Sound logic,
therefore, dissuades us from indulging in dreams
hardly more instructive than the occult qualities
of the Schoolmen. The true business of the
philosopher, though not flattering to his vanity,
is merely to ascertain, arrange, and condense
the leading facts.
Ingenuity and patience were for many years
exercised in improving the art of constructing
artificial loadstones, or of communicating mag¬
netism by different modes of Touch. The ge¬
neral procedure depends on the magnetic power
induced by apposition, though it is often affect¬
ed by very slight circumstances, and always re¬
quires dextrous manipulation to insure success.
In France, Reaumur and Duhamel gave circum¬
stantial directions; but our countrymen Knight,
Mitchell, and Canton, acquired peculiar address
in magnetizing; and iEpinus gave an improved
method, suggested by his theory, for communi¬
cating magnetism by the Double Touch, the two
rubbing bars being held each reclining about
half a right angle from the vertical position.
It was proved that the magnetic virtue resides
near the surface, and therefore hollow magnets
were proposed, though perhaps never actually
tried. But thin bars seemed to answer best for
attaching under the card of the mariner’s com¬
pass. Coulomb remarked that a steel wire is,
by twisting, made capable of being nine times
more strongly magnetized. It is singular that
cast steel is unfit for a magnet, and that the
smallest admixture of antimony destroys the po¬
larity of iron. In the years 1786and ITST, Cavallo
tried the magnetism of various substances, by set¬
ting them to float on a very clean surface of mer¬
cury, on which they turned nimbly by the smallest
force. In this way, he found that a trace of iron
which no chemical test could detect was yet ca¬
pable of sensibly affecting the needle. Nickel
is strongly magnetical, but seems enfeebled by
the addition of cobalt. Yet brass, though na¬
turally passive, becomes susceptible of magnet¬
ism by hammering, and loses this power again
when heated to near redness. But a more nu¬
merous and far more precise collection of expe¬
riments of that kind was made during the course
of twenty years, between 1784 and 1804, by
Coulomb. This most acute and accurate expe¬
rimenter found every substance almost to be
susceptible of magnetism. To examine the
property, he formed needles about three-eighths
of an inch in length, suspended by fine silk
lines; and these obeyed the magnet, though
composed of gold, silver, copper, lead, and
tin, nay of bone and chalk. But this seeming
universal diffusion of the property might still
be owing to the presence of iron, however
much attenuated. When bees-wax had incor¬
porated with it a portion of iron-filings equal
only to the 130,000th part of its weight, it was yet
sensibly affected by the magnet. Nor is it im¬
probable that nickel, as once believed, may be
only a refractory ore of iron, still resisting che¬
mical decomposition, though deriving from this
source its magnetic virtue.
The variation of the needle has been accurate¬
ly observed in Europe during nearly two centu¬
ries. It seems to be continually increasing,
though in a most irregular manner. In the
year 1657, it stood directly north at London;
and it held the same meridional position in 1660
at Paris. But during the remainder of the cen¬
tury it changed towards the west, at the rate of
11' annually at London, but only 6' at Pains.
From 1700 to 1725 the yearly increase of va¬
riation at London was only 9', from 1725 to
1750 it rose to 14'; but from 1750 to 1775 it
returned to 9' again, and from 1775 to 1800
it declined to 6'. For the next 25 years the
1 See Analysis of Curve Lines, near the end of the volume.
628
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
rate of augmentation has been scarcely 2', and
the change at Paris is still smaller. This
rapid decline of the annual change appeared to
intimate the needle’s approach to the limit of
westerly digression, from which it would slowly
return in the contrary direction. Such expecta¬
tion, however, is not yet realized. In 1817 the
needle was observed at Paris to make indeed a
slight retreat; hut, in the following year, it
moved forward again, and continues to advance,
though slowly, to the west. Its relaxation in
London is less apparent.1
But the variation of the needle, besides its
annual progress, is liable to other alternating
changes, amounting sometimes to a considerable
quantity. Its diurnal deviation was first re¬
marked by Graham in 1722, and ascertained
with more precision in 1750 by Wargentin of
Stockholm. But Canton investigated the sub¬
ject with great ability and perseverance, in a
very extended series of observations begun in
1756. He found the needle to travel westwards
from about nine o’clock in the morning till two
in the afternoon, when it remained for a while
stationary, and again slowly returned, regaining
its station during the night, or before the early
dawn. In the morning, its movements were
less regular. The extent of those digressions
was found to depend on the season of the year;
near the end of December, the diurnal aberra¬
tion was only 7', but it mounted to 13^' about
the middle of June.
Canton, with great probability, referred these
curious facts to the influence of heat on the
magnetic forces. Though the direction of the
needle is mainly determined by the internal
magnetism of the globe, it must also be aflected
in some degree by the local attraction of the fer¬
ruginous particles united to mineral substances,
and profusely scattered on the surface. If we
suppose their joint power inclines to the east of
the magnetic meridian, it will evidently act
more feebly in drawing the needle aside during
the warm portion of the day, and in the height
of summer. This ingenious explication seems
to be corroborated by the observations made in
1794, on the island of Sumatra, by Macdonald,
who found the diurnal aberration there not to
exceed 3'. But the alternation of heat and cold
in that equatorial climate is likewise more li¬
mited.
The Dip of the Needle is much less change¬
able than its Declination. It is more difficult
to observe, but appears to have been diminish¬
ing during the last hundred years, at the very
slow rate of a minute annually. The quantity
of Dip, or the depression of a poised needle be¬
low the horizontal position, depends in every
place over the surface of the earth nearly on the
latitude. It would be very desirable to render
the observations with the Dipping Needle more
certain and delicate. Coulomb proposed an in¬
genious mode of computation, from the load re¬
quisite to bring it into an horizontal position
compared with the time of its vibrating in that
plane.
Albert Euler, son of the great analyst, cen¬
sured Halley’s magnetical hypothesis, and pro¬
posed in 1766 a simple theory deduced from ob¬
servations, and requiring the assumption of only
two poles, distinct however from those of the
terrestrial axis. The North Pole he would place
in the latitude of 75° 7', and the South Pole in
the latitude of 60° 37'; assigning to the former
a western longitude of 91° 54', and to the latter
only 38° 36'.
Biot and Humboldt, from a comparison of
later and ampler observations, assigned for both
the magnetic poles the opposite latitudes of
79° T; the longitude of the northern one being
27° 37', and that of the southern one 205° IS7
west from Greenwich. The plane perpendicu¬
lar to the magnetic axis intersects the equator
at an angle of 10° 59', and in west longitudes
117° 37' and 300° 27'.
But deductions of this kind are liable to a
source of inaccuracy which had long escaped
observation. The bolts and other pieces of iron
in the frame of a ship, ranging mostly before
the binacle, very sensibly derange the bearings
of the compass by their local attraction. This
deviation seems to have been first remarked by
tliP astl (j)1no™ej‘ Byrckhardt, by combining together a number of observations, has deduced a formula f
the nerinrl nf wanJlci 6 at1P^ns- .Admitting its accuracy, the maximum will be attained in 1837, and reach to 24° 2<
the period ot magnetical revolution being completed in the space of 860 years.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
629
Bayly, who accompanied Captain Cook as as¬
tronomer in the two last voyages of that great
navigator. But it was accurately investigated
by Lieutenant Flinders in 1795. The error thus
caused is often as much as 10 degrees; and,
owing to the oblique influence of terrestrial
magnetism, it attains to a much greater amount
in the high latitudes. When the vessel’s keel lies
in the magnetic meridian, the needle is not dis¬
turbed, and the divergence becomes greater in the
transverse position ; in every other position, the
sine of the deflexion has a certain ratio to the sine
of the angle of the course. A single experiment
will determine that ratio, and hence the rectifi¬
cation is easily applied. But Barlow has pro¬
posed a very simple contrivance, to avoid the
trouble of computation : It is to fix, on the deck
and immediately behind the binacle, a thin iron
plate, which by its proximity may counteract
the diffuse attraction along the forepart of the
ship. This adjustment being once attained,
must suit eArery situation.
But the action of terrestrial magnetism is evi¬
dently the result of its intensity combined with its
direction. Though the attractive force augments
in approaching to the magnetic pole, yet the Dip
of the Needle rapidly increases, insomuch that
the late Arctic voyagers found it in Baffin’s Bay
only three degrees from the vertical position.
The efficacy of the directive force was hence
reduced about nineteen times, and the compass
betrayed a deviation amounting to 70° or 80°.
The study of Magnetism, so long neglected,
has lately been revived with splendid success.
Conjoined Avith observations of the length of the
pendulum in different latitudes, experiments
have been likewise made on the oscillation of
the needle, which indicates the directive poAver
of the great internal magnet. From a compa¬
rison of these, it appears that the intensity of
the terrestrial magnetism is doubled in the
ascent from the equator to the western limit of
Baffin’s Bay. No person has shown such ardour
in pursuing the investigation of this subject as
Professor Hansteen of Christiania, who not only
Avith infinite labour collected and digested the
multifarious facts, but has undertaken distant
journeys for the purpose of rectifying former
observations. From all these combinations, he
Avas enabled to detect the position of the mag¬
netic poles of the Earth, and trace the curves of
variation on its surface. But the results undergo
correction as often as fresh data are procured.
Hansteen infers, from experiments he made be¬
tween the years 1819 and 1826 on the oscilla¬
tion of the needle, that the magnetic intensity
has been decreasing annually at Christiania,
London, and Paris, by the 235th, the 725th,
and the 1020th parts respectively. This diver¬
sified effect he ascribes to the revolution of the
Siberian pole.
The remarkable discovery of Oerstedt has
greatly enlarged the field of magnetic influence.
A Avire of any kind of metal being laid horizon¬
tally and at right angles to the magnetic meri¬
dian, to connect the opposite conductors of a
Galvanic Battery, a needle either beloAv or aboATe
it is drawn considerably to the one side or the
other. Instead of beAvildering the imagination
Avith the A’agaries of inATisible streams, a suffi¬
cient explication of the phenomenon may be de¬
duced from two leading principles :—1. Magnet¬
ism is in some proportion diffused through all
metallic substances, owing either to their peculiar
constitution or the universal dissemination of fer¬
ruginous molecules : 2. The cross wire, from its
position Avith regard to the Terrestrial Magnet,
acquires induced magnetism, but extending trans-
\Tersely; the under side having the virtue of a
north pole, and the upper side that of a south
pole. The copious infusion of that Aurtue is
occasioned probably by the duration of the in¬
ternal tremor, excited by intense electrical ac¬
tion, and analogous to the effects on a bar of
iron or steel subjected to hammering, tAvisting,
heating, or the fulminating shock. Hence are
easily explained the diversified phases of attrac¬
tion, rotation, or impressed magnetism.
Arago proved that continuous electrical sparks
or discharges operate the same combinations as
the Galvanic Battery. But his penetrating in¬
genuity soon discovered the means of augment¬
ing prodigiously the intensity of the magnetic
action, by coiling the conjugate Avire into a cy¬
lindrical spiral, and thus forming a sort of ma¬
gazine of transverse inferior and superior needles
which unite their influence. ScliAvegger, pur¬
suing the same ideas in Germany, has produced
630
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
a very simple and convenient instrument, for
detecting the smallest traces of magnetic virtue.
Magnetism has again received a beautiful ac¬
cession from the keen glance of Arago, whose
mind embraces and enriches every department
of science. If a needle be finely suspended
over a thick circular plate of copper made to re¬
volve horizontally, it is drawn aside from the
meridian in the direction of the motion; and
when this becomes very rapid, it will even fol¬
low the tide of circumvolution. The effect is
nowise occasioned by the whirlwind raised, for
the experiment succeeds best when the needle,
pendant from a silk line, is inclosed within a
glass case that has a bottom of mica or thin
glass resting immediately over the plate of cop¬
per. The power is augmented by the proximity
of the needle and the thickness of the revolving
disc,—an evident proof of the attraction exerted
by the accumulated ferruginous molecules.
The simplest and most satisfactory way of
explaining this curious phsenomenon seems de¬
rived from the principle, that, though magnetism
acts instantaneously, a certain portion of time,
however small, is required for the infusion or
communication of the magnetic virtue. The
circular plate acquires this property from the
mere apposition of the needle ; its axis with re¬
versed poles lying when at rest exactly under
the pointer. But if the plate be quickly turned,
the axis, not being instantly impressed, will be
carried forward, and must consequently draw
after it the needle, or even involve it in a con¬
tinued rotation. On the other hand, if the
copper remain fixed while the needle is made to
vibrate, the axis of induced magnetism must
always hang in the rear, and therefore retard, or
tend to diminish, and soon extinguish the oscil¬
lations. Hence an important practical inference,
that the needle of a ship’s compass should tra¬
verse near the bottom of a thick copper box, in
order to correct that excessive sensibility which
is so inconvenient in ordinary seamanship.
Magnetism has been gaining accessions like¬
wise in detail. Seebeck of Berlin proved that
various substances have their magnetical state
affected by the unequal distribution of heat.
Becquerel described an instrument which, by
neutralizing the terrestrial influence, shows the
faintest shades of magnetism, and distinguishes
the slowest electrical conductors. His country¬
man Rousseau, advancing by the same path,
gave the construction of the Sideroscope, which
detects the very feeblest traces of iron in bodies.
This curious combination of magnetic needles
has been improved and successfully applied by
Leballif, who devotes the moments of respite
from the drudgery of a laborious office to the
ardent and unwearied pursuit of experimental
science.
5. OPTICS.
The science of Optics, next to that of Astro¬
nomy, is the noblest creation of human genius.
No branch of knowledge so far transcends ordi¬
nary notions, and none has more essentially
contributed to augment our perceptive powers
or expand the range of observation. The sense
of Touch, diffused with various intensity over the
surface of the body, connects us with the proxi¬
mate objects of an external world. Taste is akin
to Touch, and makes us acquainted with those
solvent properties of food which stimulate the
animal frame. The sense of Smell is not con¬
fined to mere contiguity, but extends its infor¬
mation to the substances which emit from a
distance their peculiar odorous effluvia. Hearing
carries our sensations still farther, and intimates
the operation and the direction of those distant
changes which excite the tremulous commotion
of sound in our atmosphere. But the faculty
of Vision is of a much higher order. It soars
above the grossness of matter, transports us
above this sublunary scene, and holds commerce
with the skies. The other senses have gained
no help from instruments, if we except the par¬
tial advantages which Hearing has derived from
the speaking and ear trumpets. But Sight was
refreshed by the application of Spectacles, and
its powers of exploration have been advanced in a
most astonishing degree by the tardy subsequent
discovery of the Microscope and the Telescope.
The wonders of atomic Nature seem now laid
open, and all the glories of the remotest celes-
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
631
tial forms are brought under immediate obser¬
vation. The medium of such intercourse is that
pure empyreal stream of Light, which approaches
the nearest to our conception of Spiritual Es¬
sence.
The chief properties of the rays of Light con¬
sist in Reflexion and Refraction. With the for¬
mer the ancients were sufficiently acquainted,
but they had only a vague notion of the con¬
nexion between the angles of Incidence and Re¬
fraction. It is somewhat singular that both the
Telescope and the Microscope should have been
several years invented before the law on which
their construction depends, or the constant re¬
lation between the sines of those angles, was de¬
tected. This important discovery was made by
Snellius, but simplified and first published in
1637 by Descartes, who greatly reformed opti¬
cal science. The progressive motion of Light
was next beautifully deduced from the annual
anticipation and retardation of the eclipses of
Jupiter’s satellites, by the ingenuity of Roemer,
a young Danish astronomer, who had been in¬
vited to France in 167.2, and there liberally en¬
tertained for nine years, till he was recalled to
his native country and loaded with lucrative and
honourable appointments. One might suppose
that the aberration of the fixed stars, or their
apparent circular shifting in the heavens, would
have been hence anticipated, as a simple in¬
ference from the motion of Light combined with
the revolution of the Earth in its orbit. Such
a consequence had been foreseen by the acute
mind of Descartes, who therefore adopted the
instantaneous propulsion of light as a funda¬
mental principle in his Dioptrics. Were it
otherwise, he maintained the stars would not
appear in their true positions, and the sun
would be seen eclipsed long after his conjunc¬
tion with the moon. These considerations,
however, were quite overlooked, when Bradley
in 1729 established his fine discovery within
close limits, but on the very same grounds.1
Astronomers had been obliged to abandon
their attempts to construct telescopes of much
higher magnifying powers, and to contract the
apertures, and consequently to reduce the mea¬
sure of illumination in order to procure distinct
vision. Colour was still imagined to depend
merely on the various mixture of light and
shade. But Newton’s grand discovery of the
decomposition of the Solar Beam, first communi¬
cated to the Royal Society in 1671, and further
explained by his correspondence during the three
following years, changed the whole aspect of the
science. The ingenuity in devising the simple
and beautiful experiments with combined prisms,
is not more admirable, than the force and clear¬
ness of the reasoning which deduced from them
such splendid conclusions. The mild spirit of
the philosopher was wounded by the attacks of
petulance and contradiction; and he quietly re¬
tained, in his closet, for the space of upwards
of thirty years, the sequel of those invaluable
experiments, and only consented to publish the
Treatise of Optics after his reputation had final¬
ly triumphed over all opposition. This resolution
is much to be regretted, as it not only post¬
poned the diffusion of genuine science, but gave
occasion to the blending of some speculations
which the discerning author would probably not
have published in the high meridian of his in¬
tellect. Though the experimental procedure on
which the work rests had been strictly induc¬
tive, yet was the composition cast in a synthetical
form,—broken into a series of propositions, with
their preliminary apparatus of Axioms and De¬
finitions ; which commonly involve assumptions,
and so far from giving more precision to our
reasonings, imperceptibly lead to the admis-
1 In a letter of Descartes, bearing the date of 1634, he notices an experiment proposed by a Dutch correspondent, to prove
that Light takes a sensible time to arrive at the eye from a distance. This was to wave a flaming torch at night, and observe
its reflexion from a mirror removed only a quarter of a league. The French philosopher with his friends repeated the
experiment several times, and could not discern the smallest interval between each bending of the flame and its reflexion.
But even admitting the lapse of the 24th part of an arterial pulse to intervene during the short passage to the mirror
and back again, or allowing the velocity of 46 English miles in a second, it would completely derange Astronomical Obser¬
vations. The sun would not appear in his real position, but in that which he occupied when the rays of light which reach
us began their journey. A solar eclipse would therefore be seen, not at the moment of conjunction, but an hour afterwards,
the Light having to travel from the Earth to the edge of the Moon and back again, or to pass and repass the distance of
50 semidiameters, each of 3000 leagues.
632
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
sion of errors. The very term IlefrangibUity,
which Newton, under the guise of a definition,
applied to the rays of light, became afterwards
a source of misconception. It evidently con¬
verted the refraction of light into a general pro¬
perty belonging peculiarly to the rays them¬
selves, and therefore independent altogether of
the quality or nature of the refracting medium.
This might appear only a slight distinction, hut
it probably contributed to the hasty and inaccu¬
rate experimental inference, that in every case
the refraction of the mean ray by a prism deter¬
mines the corresponding refractions of the ex¬
treme rays, or that the solar spectrum is always
distinguished into the same proportions of co¬
loured spaces. Since all material action, how¬
ever, is reciprocal, the refractive process cannot
be referred to the single agency of the particles
of Light, but must result from their mutual at¬
traction to the substance of the transparent me¬
dium. It is not the lot of humanity to reach
perfection, and the most gifted of mortals will
at times betray the weakness of our nature.
The subdivision of white light into seven com¬
ponent rays, and the distinction of the spectrum
into coloured spaces adapted exactly to the in¬
tervals in the diatonic scale of music, were no
doubt fine illusions which reflected the mys¬
ticism of the age. But it must now be ad¬
mitted that the primary colours melt into each
other by imperceptible shades, and that the spec¬
tra painted by different prisms differ widely in
their relative extent, and exhibit even a diver¬
sified partition of spaces.
Certain it is that the philosophers on the Con¬
tinent generally refused to admit the accuracy
of the conclusions of the Treatise of Optics, and
Mariotte, the most ingenious and skilful of the
French experimentalists, was unsuccessful in his
attempts at the prismatic decomposition of the
sun’s rays. His failure must no doubt be attri¬
buted to the influence of prejudice, and the stiff¬
ness of advanced age; but finally to silence all
such opposition, it was judged expedient in 1716
that Desaguliers should repeat and somewhat
vary the original experiments before a committee
of the Royal Society at London.
Notwithstanding these few blemishes, arising
merely from hasty generalization, the Newtonian
Theory of Light and Colours is undoubtedly one
of the noblest efforts of human invention. It
quickly modified the projects of opticians. The
imperfection of the Telescope was hence found
to proceed only from undue mixture of colour
in the image, occasioned by unequal refraction,
which no change in the forms of the glasses
could remedy. The Reflexion of Light alone
offered any chance of improvement. Newton
had constructed a small Catoptrical Instrument
with his own hands; but for many years after¬
wards no artist appeared that possessed sufficient
skill to imitate and improve it. The ingenious
Mr Hadley in 1723 was the first who succeeded
in getting a Reflecting Telescope made for his
private use; and we may presume that the great
inventor himself, before the close of life, enjoy¬
ed the satisfaction of seeing his early ideas rea¬
lized. Such was not the fortune of James Gre¬
gory, whose Reflector, more complex indeed, but
likewise more commodious, had remained a mere
speculation, till about this time it was manufac¬
tured and came to acquire high reputation. James
Short particularly distinguished himself by the
finished execution of those instruments, and for
a long time he maintained the superiority of the
English artists. Every improvement in the con¬
struction of the telescope contributed to the ac¬
curacy of astronomical observations.
Hadley not only gave an impulse to practical
astronomy, but soon enriched its stores by that
invaluable instrument the Quadrant of Reflexion,
which has ultimately produced a complete revo¬
lution in the art of observing. A similar instru¬
ment was proposed by Newton as far back as the
year 1669, in consequence of an unsuccessful
attempt of Hooke; but the description had been
laid aside and neglected till 1731, when the an¬
nouncement of Hadley’s invention recalled it
from oblivion. The mode of finding an altitude
hitherto practised at sea was liable to much
uncertainty, since it required to direct the eye
first to the horizon and next to the disc of the
sun, though the instrument might have its posi¬
tion altered during this interval by the motion
of the ship. The difficulty was now obviated by
employing a movable index, which brought the
sun’s image to touch the boundary of the horizon.
It is a very happy application of the simple prin-
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
633
ciple in Catoptrics, namely, that a ray of light
which has suffered two reflexions deviate^ from
its course by an angle just double of the mutual
inclination of the mirrors. The Quadrant was af¬
terwards enlarged into a Sextant, it had telescopic
sights affixed to it, and received its final simpli¬
fication in this country from the dividing engine
of Ramsden. This delicate instrument has come
since into almost universal use in measuring
angles; and though originally contrived only to
observe the latitude at sea, it is now employ¬
ed with the greatest facility in ascertaining the
angular distance of the moon from the sun or a
star, and thence supplying correct data for com¬
puting by the help of improved lunar tables the
longitude itself.
Meanwhile the Sextant underwent a radical
transformation on the Continent, being changed
into an entire Circle. This was effected by the
celebrated Mayer, whose very narrow circum¬
stances drew forth all the resources of his inven¬
tion. He sought to remedy the imperfection of
the common Graphometer or Circumferentor,
by multiplying the angle observed, and thus
blending and extenuating the errors of subdivi¬
sion. By this simple contrivance not only were
the grosser inaccuracies obviated, but the instru¬
ment was rendered even superior to others of the
finest construction. Mayer next conjoined this
principle with that of Hadley, and produced the
Repeating Circle, which, having afterwards re¬
ceived some further improvements from Borda,
is now employed universally on the Continent
in Goniometrical Surveys, and in the practice
of Navigation and Astronomy. This instrument
being complex, however, in its construction, and
tedious and operose in its application, seems after
many trials not to be gaining ground in Eng¬
land. Its chief advantage consists in reducing
the errors occasioned by imperfect workmanship,
which a more skilful execution might nearly pre¬
clude.
The middle of the eighteenth century was dis¬
tinguished by a capital correction of the New¬
tonian principle of the proportional refraction
of the several rays of light, which has led to the
most important practical results. It had been
concluded that no combined unequal refractions
could ever form a white image, because the same
refractive powers which might neutralize the
colours must likewise bend the converging or
diverging rays into exactly parallel directions.
But, dissatisfied with this theory, Euler in 1747
endeavoured to prove the possibility of destroy¬
ing the coloured margin of a focal image, by imi¬
tating the structure of the eye, which he con¬
sidered as a perfect optical instrument. He pro¬
posed to construct a convex lens, by joining two
meniscus glasses holding water in their cavity;
and expected from such a combination not only
to correct the spherical aberration, but to pre¬
vent the border of colour. All his attempts,
however, to obtain distinct vision, were unsuc¬
cessful. Yet he still persisted in holding it to
be a Law of Nature, that not the refractions of
the extreme rays, but the indices ot their powers,
are constantly proportional; and from this ma¬
thematical or metaphysical assumption, he strict¬
ly deduced his calculations. These speculations
of Euler made some noise in the scientific world,
and shook the confidence abroad in the accuracy
of Newton’s experimental conclusions. About
this time John Holland,1 bred a silk-weaver, the
trade of his father, a French Protestant refugee,
being fond of mathematical studies, had chosen
to embrace, in partnership with his son, the pro¬
fession of an Optician, as more congenial to his
taste. Having already acquired reputation for
ingenuity and skill, he communicated in 1752,
1 John Dolland, born in Spitalfields in June 1700. I.eft by the early death of his father in straitened circumstances, he
was obliged to toil for the support of the family. But his thirst after useful knowledge led him to devote every spare
moment to private study, and even to encroach on the hours of repose. By such severe application he made considerable
proficiency in geometry and algebra, in optics and astronomy, and added to these attainments a tolerable acquaintance with
the ancient languages. He became anxious to follow a profession better fitted to his genius, and in 1752 he joined his son
Peter, who having quitted silk-weaving, had successfully commenced the business of optician. The discovery of achro¬
matic glasses in 1758 established his reputation, and afforded a prospect of the large fortune afterwards reaped by the indus¬
try and perseverance of his successor. But the elder Dolland had only begun to taste the sweets of prosperity : while en¬
gaged intensely in the perusal of a new memoir of Clairaut, he was, on the 30th November 1701, struck with a fit of apo¬
plexy, which in the space of a few hours hurried him to the grave.
DJSS. IV. 4i L
634
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to the Royal Society of London, a short paper,
showing that the principle advanced by Euler
was discordant with the property deducible from
the Newtonian experiments. But it did not
thence follow that either of these must be the
true Law of Nature; and accordingly Klingen-
stierna, an ingenious and learned Swedish philo¬
sopher, proved that the hypothesis espoused by
Dolland would not stand a rigorous analytical
investigation. The English artist was therefore
compelled to adopt the only sure and decisive
mode of settling the question, the unbiassed
appeal to experiment. He soon found that his
preconceptions were inaccurate, and that refrac¬
tion may subsist without any fringe of colour.
He formed a wedge or hollow prism with two
thin rectangular pieces of plate-glass, joined at
the edges and cemented to planes of brass at the
ends, and having filled the cavity with distilled
water, he inverted in it an acute-angled glass
prism, and looking through this compound me¬
dium, he gradually widened the angle of the
glass plates, till an object placed in front ap¬
peared free from any coloured border, but con¬
siderably depressed. The refraction of the
water had therefore predominated over the op¬
posite refraction of the glass, without expand¬
ing at the same time the prismatic colours.
This simple and well-devised experiment esta¬
blished therefore, in contradiction to Newton,
the important principle, that the length of the
spectrum, or the dispersion of the extreme rays, is
not always proportional to the mean refraction,
but depends on the constitution of the diaphanous
medium. The result already indicated an im¬
proved construction of the telescope, by substi¬
tuting a compound object-glass, inclosing water,
nearly in the manner attempted by Euler. But
Dolland rejected this imperfect expedient, and
sought to produce an unalterable combination
with different kinds of glass: Having struck
into the right path, he pushed forward to a great
discovery. He tried to select among the dif¬
ferent kinds of glass such as might effect his
purpose; and after a long and perplexing re¬
search, he finally preferred the combination of
crown and flint glass; the refractive power of
the former being to that of the latter as two to
three, while their opposite dispersions are equal.
A convex lens of crown glass of the focal length
of two feet, conjoined with a concave lens of
flint glass having a virtual focus at the distance
of three feet, must hence form a colourless image
at the distance of six feet. This capital dis¬
covery, achieved in 1757, enabled Dolland to
construct refracting telescopes of much larger
aperture and wider field than before, and pre¬
senting the image with such a pure brilliancy as
to entitle them to the name of Achromatic. It
was likewise possible to correct the spherical
aberration by modifying the coalescent curva¬
tures. But the discharge of extraneous colour is
attained most completely by forming a triple ob¬
ject-glass, composed of a concave lens of flint
glass inclosed on both sides by two convex lenses
of crown glass.
The theory of Achromatic Telescopes was now
complete, but it still required patience and ad¬
dress to carry it into successful execution. Dol¬
land, and his son afterwards, took incredible
pains in choosing their samples of glass, and ac¬
quired such exquisite skill in combining them,
as to set all rivalship at defiance. The Conti¬
nental Mathematicians were eager in examining
the structure of those achromatic lenses, and in
applying their superlative powers of calculation
to define the proper forms. Klingenstierna and
Boscovich, but especially D’Alembert and Euler,
distinguished themselves by their most elaborate
and profound investigations in this new branch of
Dioptrics. Yet it may be questioned whether art¬
ists have derived any real help in practice from
such vast and profuse displays of analytical re¬
search. England, following a more tentative pro¬
cedure, continued exclusively for half a century
to supply the world with Achromatic Glasses.
The correction of colour obtained by the in¬
genuity and perseverance of Dolland consisted
thus in the blending of a spectrum with an¬
other of the same reversed length, but caused
by an inferior refraction. Though the extreme
boundaries were necessarily white, it did not
however follow that the intermediate portions
should be absolutely colourless. On the con¬
trary, it seems ascertained that not only the en¬
tire expansion of the spectrum, but the relative
extent of its several coloured spaces, depend on
the peculiar quality of the refracting medium.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
635
A redoubled combination of lenses might there ¬
fore mingle and destroy the secondary colours
scattered through the middle range. But the
light would he necessarily enfeebled by suffering
those repeated refractions.
Several experimenters, in their attempts to im¬
prove the achromatic telescope, had proposed the
interposition of fluids between the pieces of the
compound object-glass. But the late Dr Robert
Blair instituted the most elaborate investigation
on this subject about the year 1787. He found
all the essential oils, but especially certain me¬
tallic solutions in muriatic acid, to possess the
greatest dispersive powers. A most compli¬
cated arrangement of those fluids with different
lenses was first tried, and next abandoned for
a less intricate combination of a triple muriatic
solution, inclosed in glass shells, and invested
on both sides by a semiconvex and a meniscus of
crown glass. This compound appeared to pro¬
duce the effect desired, not only discharging
from the image the extreme fringes of red and
violet, but excluding also the intermediate streaks
of green and yellow. Unfortunately the liquid
by degrees lost its transparency, either from the
change of its own constitution or from the slow
but continual corrosion of the surface of the
glass. A similar attempt has been lately reviv¬
ed, but we fear with no better prospect of suc¬
cess. No confidence can be placed in the per¬
manent transparency of any fluid medium.
Although the prismatic colours follow the same
invariable order, they yet expand in very differ¬
ent proportions, according to the nature of the
refracting substance. It is impossible, from the
closest examination of the solar spectrum in a dark
room, to distinguish the limits of the several co¬
loured spaces, which appear to melt away by in¬
sensible gradations. The extreme boundaries of
illumination are still more undefined. The red
seems to graduate near the edge into a dull brown,
while the violet spreads out by lengthening shades
into blackness. Those verges are no doubt more
extended in our climate, owing to the greater
profusion of lateral rays sent from the white por¬
tion of the sky which encircles the sun’s disc.
Three primary colours—red, green, and vio¬
let—are commonly supposed to be sufficient by
their various admixture to generate all the rest.
Thus, red mingled in different proportions with
green produces orange or yellow, and green
suffused with violet gives blue ; while red blend¬
ed with violet forms crimson, that fine brilliant
hue which is not emergent in the solar spec¬
trum. In this pencilled expansion, we may
thus reckon three principal colours, or more
completely four, five, or six, with innumerable
shades. If the whole extent of the spectrum
produced by a prism of flint glass be reckoned
50 parts, the spaces occupied by the unfolded
colours will be nearly represented in this series :
red 5, orange 4, yellow 7, green 9, blue 10, and
violet 15; or if the orange be merged in red,
and the yellow in green, the expanse of the four
resulting colours will be, red 9, green 16, blue
10, and violet 15. These successive spaces are
all considerably different, it must be confessed,
from the fanciful subdivision of the diatonic
scale of music attributed to the range of the
spectrum formed by water or crown glass.
It is often assumed that the numbers of the
component rays of light are proportional to the
breadths of the several coloured spaces of the
spectrum. But the most ordinary experience
contradicts that supposition ; for the eye is of¬
fended by the excessive glare of red and orange,
is relieved by the softness of green, and feels
languid under the feeble action of blue or violet.
Whatever may be the distinctive properties of
the coloured particles themselves, they are evi¬
dently collected by the prism in groups of very
different densities. It is hardly possible to com¬
pare the various intensities of such heterogene¬
ous things as colours with any degree of precision;
but when highly condensed, the impression they
make on the eye is nearly the same as that of
white light itself. On this principle the late inge¬
nious Fraunhofer, the great improver of achro¬
matic glasses, was enabled in 1814 to estimate
nearly the illuminating powers of the prismatic
rays, by examining them as concentrated in the
field of a large telescope of a theodolite. He
found the brightest spot on the spectrum of flint
glass to lie on the verge of the yellow next the
orange, and about 11 parts of its whole extension
of 50, from the extremity of the red. But the
most remarkable discovery he made was, that
though the coloured spaces appear not parted by
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
63G
any distinct boundaries, yet they are broken and
subdivided by numerous white and black lines,
or even dark stripes. He reckoned altogether
above 600 lines; a few occur in the red, but
they are multiplied in the orange, the yellow, the
green, and the blue. A stripe, opened by a fine
white line, divides the red; other stripes emerge
at intervals between the orange and the blue;
and two very broad approximating bars cross
the violet. Other glass prisms, and even those
tilled with liquids, gave similar appearances,
which were therefore not accidental, but the
constant results of some law of nature. The
powers of refraction thus advance not by insen¬
sible gradations, but seem to ascend with irre¬
gular bounds. This inference bears some ana-
logy to the Newtonian hypothesis of the easy fits
of reflexion and transmission.
The same judicious philosopher, combining
eminent practical skill with deep and accurate
science, succeeded by unwearied application in
achieving the grandest improvement effected in
the construction of achromatic glasses since the
time of Holland. Fraunhofer conducted per¬
sonally the whole train of a large establishment;
he directed the preparation and fusion of the
materials, selected the proper pieces for grind¬
ing, and prescribed the due forms. The glass
produced under the patronage of the liberal
Bavarian government greatly surpassed in qua¬
lity every other kind: It had a translucid pu¬
rity, and a uniform consistency. Fraunhofer
constructed with it the most perfect object-lenses,
of more than eight times any former dimension,
and exceeding nine inches in diameter. He had
proposed to attain an aperture of ten inches or
even more, and would unquestionably have suc¬
ceeded, if death had not prematurely stopt his
ardent career. The power and brilliancy of such
magnificent telescopes transcended all concep¬
tion.1
If the rays of the coloured spaces of the spec¬
trum be so widely diversified in their illuminat¬
ing energy, they differ no less in the property
of exciting or communicating heat. Common
language betrays in this respect their distinctive
characters. Red and orange are termed warm
colours, green temperate, and blue and violet are
said to be cold. The first that endeavoured to
measure the heating powers of the coloured rays
of the spectrum was the Abbe Rodion, who in
the summer of 1776 employed for that purpose
an air thermometer and a prism of flint glass.
But though he used some precautions, and re¬
peated his experiments, the results were not
very nice or consistent. Without venturing to
compare the calorific intensities of the extreme
rays, he yet reckoned those of a bright red as
about eight times more powerful than such as
gave the liveliest violet, and considered the bor¬
dering orange as the hottest spot in the spec¬
trum. But in this country the differential ther¬
mometer, modified as a photometer, being an
instrument susceptible of incomparably more
precision, was applied to the spectrum of flint
glass in 1798. Dividing the whole extent into
four equal spaces, the calorific energies of blue,
green, yellow, and red might be represented
with tolerable exactness by the series of square
numbers 1, 4, 9, and 16. Two years after¬
wards the famous Dr Herschel tried to measure
the impressions made by the coloured rays on
the small bulb of a mercurial thermometer, and
arrived at the paradoxical conclusion, that the
hottest part lies even on the outside of the red,
and at a little distance beyond the extreme ter¬
mination of the spectrum. It was thence in¬
ferred that there are dark rays which give only
heat and not illumination, and travel in com¬
pany with the solar beams, though less sub¬
ject to refraction. This bold hypothesis was for
a time regarded with wonder and applause; but
the delicate observations of Berard, by the help
of an Heliostate to direct the incident rays and
give them a steady effect, soon demolished the
fabric. A large circular prism or the outer
ring of a huge burning glass has been since em¬
ployed to mark with nicety the limit of the
1 The Bavarian flint-glass appears free from those wavy lines or streaks which still impair the best English specimens,
and displays besides one-third more of dispersive power. The famous telescope constructed for the University of Dorpat
has an aperture of 9.| inches, with a focal length of 14 feet 3 inches English measure: it turns with a double parallactic mo¬
tion, guided by the constant revolution of a centrifugal pendulum. This wonderful production of art, pouring a flood of
light on the image, magnifies 200 and occasionally 600 times, and has enabled Professor Struve to augment prodigioimj'
the catalogue of double and changing stars.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
637
greatest calorific effect, which always occurs
within the red space, though nearer its exterior
border. The notion of dark rays of light, which
enveloped the science in mystery, stands now
therefore without any proof, and is utterly dis¬
countenanced by sound philosophy.
The improvements made in the application
of Optics to the measuring of angles, since
the invention of the repeating circle, relate
principally to the micrometer. Bouguer pro¬
posed his Heliometer, or double object-glass
micrometer, in 1748; but Short and Holland,
probably from a different suggestion, simpli¬
fied the contrivance in 1754, by dividing a
single object-glass into two equal portions.
Beccaria had shown that rock crystal, like Ice¬
land spar, has the power of double refraction;
and Rochon availed himself of this property to
construct in 1777 a very delicate micrometer,
though Boscovich about the same time appears
to have conceived a similar idea. Dr Maske-
lyne had more than a year before pursued a
path little different, his micrometer consisting
of movable glass prisms.
The French have ingeniously directed the
principles of Optics to the improvement of
Light-Houses. In this useful pursuit the cele¬
brated Buffon led the way. Endeavouring to
realize the performance ascribed to Archimedes,
he disposed 400 mirrors, each of them half a
foot square, into a frame, so as to collect the
sun’s rays into a single focus, and by the re¬
flexion from this large surface in 1747 he ac¬
tually set fire to wood at the distance of 70
yards. The experiment was next inverted, and
a burner placed in the focus, to have its rays
thrown parallel, and produce remote illumina¬
tion. But for this purpose a much smaller reflec¬
tor was sufficient, composed of bits of mirror
planted in a spherical cavity. The final improve¬
ment consisted in hammering thin plated copper
into a parabolic shape. These powerful reflec¬
tors, combined with Argand’s lamp, were about
thirty years since introduced from France into
our light-houses.
Buffon tried likewise to concentrate the power
of refracted rays. The ancient engravers had
employed spheres of glass or crystal to assist
vision ; but the substitution of lenses, which at
the close of the thirteenth century served for
spectacles, was an important advance. This
figure greatly reduced the thickness of the dia¬
phanous mass, and therefore facilitated propor¬
tionally the passage of light. But the progress
of improvement seemed completed in the plan
proposed by the French Natui'alist to obtain the
exterior surfaces of a lens by combining a num¬
ber of circular prismatic segments. From the
difficulty of the construction, however, this pro¬
ject was long retarded, and afterwards forgotten.
The knowledge of such attempts was not wanted
to direct the ingenuity of Fresnel1 into the right
path. He calculated the curvature of the suc¬
cessive concentric segments which would pro¬
duce a correct focus, and advanced the construc¬
tion to a regular system, on which Soleil, an ex¬
pert optician at Paris, has founded a manufac¬
ture. This compound lens has displaced the re¬
flectors from the French light-houses, and must
soon, from its very superior power of concentra¬
tion, become generally adopted.
The eighteenth century created a new branch
of optical science, destined to measure or com¬
pare the intensities of different lights, and there¬
fore termed Photometry. The first notions of
this curious subject were given by Marie, a
French Capuchin, in a small tract printed in
1700. Though this ingenious person erred
egregiously in the mathematical deductions, he
had probably the merit of setting to work the
superior talents and skill of his countryman
Bouguer, who published in 1729 an original
treatise on the gradation of light. He there sets
out from the obvious principle that light darting
in straight lines must become dilated or atte¬
nuated in the ratio of the square of the distance
from the radiant source. But the eye with a
little training can with tolerable accuracy dis¬
tinguish in a dark room when two surfaces pre¬
sented at once are equally illuminated, and con¬
sequently the relative powers of the lights may
be readily computed from the distances required
’• The insidious advance of a consumption has arrested his career of discovery, and drawn that inventive and amiable
philosopher to a premature grave.
638
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to produce such a congruous appearance. Bou-
guer compared the light of a candle with the
dazzling brilliancy of the sun and the soft ra¬
diance of the moon; and found that the inten¬
sity diminishes from the centre to the margin
of the solar disc, but that the gradation is in¬
verted in our satellite. He discovered also ex¬
perimentally the diminution of the sun’s rays in
traversing the atmosphere with different angles
of obliquity. The same able experimenter as¬
certained the loss of light, as occasioned under
different circumstances, by reflexion and refrac¬
tion. He then held the office of Royal Hydro-
grapher at Croisic in Lower Brittany; but after
his return from the laborious and memorable
scientific expedition to Peru, he resumed his
early pursuits, and prepared an enlarged edition
of his optical work, which was edited by La-
caille in 1760, two years after his death. At
the same time came out the systematic treatise
which Lambert entitled Photo7netria, designed
as the sequel to a small tract which this ardent
and inquisitive philosopher had printed two
years before on the remarkable properties of the
route of light through the air. This production is
very complete in its mathematical structure; but
the experiments on which it rests are generally
not so well devised or so nicely performed as
those of Bouguer. The ingenious author seems
to confide too much in a sort of filtration and ad¬
justment of facts, as obtained by the aid of cal¬
culation. Lambert, in his preamble, admits the
imperfection of those observations, owing to the
infirmity and variable condition of the eye, and
regrets that he had no instrument like the ther¬
mometer to guide the sense of vision.1 This de¬
sideratum was happily supplied before the close
of the century; and the Photometer constructed
on the principle of the minute differences of
temperature is not only very delicate, but ex¬
empt from the remotest chance of error. The
method of shadows proposed by Count Rumford
in 1796, may be reckoned an improvement on
Bouguer’s procedure, but it is liable to the in¬
superable objection of depending altogether on
the patient attention of the observer and his un¬
certain sharpness of sight.
The present century opened with the most
auspicious prospects, and was soon distinguished
by one of those great and unexpected discoveries
which form an epoch in the progress of science.
Such may be regarded the fine detection of the
polarized rays of light by Malus, a French officer
of Engineers, and one of the most ardent dis¬
ciples of the Polytechnic School; which in so
short a period drew together and put into rapid
motion a far greater mass of mathematical and
physical talent than any of the older seminaries
in Europe. The double refracting property of
Iceland Spar, or the crystallized carbonate of
lime, noticed by Bartholinus and accurately in¬
vestigated by Huygens, had likewise engaged the
penetration of Newton, who concluded that the
ray which suffers the unusual or extraordinary
refraction must have its opposite sides affected
by some virtue like magnetism which gives them
a tendency to polarity.2 This curious and acute
remark appears to have lain neglected near a
hundred years among the crowd of ingenious
speculations started in the optical queries. Ma-
1 Optandum certe esset, tit excogitaretur Photometrum thermometro analogum, quod lumini expos'itum ejus intensitatem atque
claritatem indicaret. He subjoins, Enimvero ipseocxdus ejus sistit exemplar, quippe pupillae apertura luminis sequitur magnitudinem
ac claritatem, et utrique sese accommodat. At magnopere dubitandum artem in hoc negotio naturam posse imitari. (Photometria,
sive de Mensura et Gradibus Luminis, Colorum, et Umbrae, p. 7-)
* The whole passage deserves transcribing. “ The unusual refraction of island crystal looks very much as if it were
performed by some kind of attractive virtue lodged in certain sides both of the rays and of the particles of the crystal. For
were it not for some kind of disposition, or virtue, lodged in some sides of the particles of the crystal, and not in their other
sides, and which inclines and bends the rays towards the coast of unusual refraction, the rays which fall perpendicularly on
the crystal would not be refracted towards that coast rather than towards any other coast, both at their incidence and at their
emergence, so as to emerge perpendicularly, by a contrary situation of the coast of unusual refraction, at the second surface;
the crystal acting upon the rays after they have passed through it and are emerging into the air, or, if you please, into a
vacuum. And since the crystal by this disposition or virtue does not act upon the rays, unless when one of their sides ol
unusual refraction looks towards that coast, this argues a virtue or disposition in those sides of the rays, which answers to
and sympathizes with that virtue or disposition of the crystal, as the poles of two magnets answer to one another. And as mag¬
netism may be intended or remitted, and is found only in the magnet and in iron ; so this virtue, of refracting the perpen¬
dicular rays, is greater in island crystal, less in crystal of the rock, and is not yet found in other bodies. I do not say that
this virtue is magnetical; it seems to be of another kind: I only say, that whatever it be, it is difficult to conceive how
the rays of light, unless they be bodies, can have a permanent virtue in two of their sides, which is not in their other sides;
and this without any regard to their position to the space, or the medium, through which they pass.” {Optics, book iii.
query Jiy.J
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
639
lus had early turned his attention to the more
difficult problems in optics, and after his return,
with a shattered constitution from an absence of
several years spent in foreign service, obtaining
more congenial employment at home, he re¬
sumed with enthusiasm his favourite studies,
and devoted to them every moment he could
spare. While intensely occupied with the in¬
vestigation of the phaenomena of double refrac¬
tion, a fortunate accident occurred, which dis¬
closed to him a new and splendid field of con¬
templation. In one of his frequent visits to
the Observatory, during his residence at Paris,
he chanced in the summer of 1809 to be struck
with the brilliant reflexion of the setting sun
from one of the windows of the Luxembourg
Palace, on looking at the appearance through
a prism of rock crystal which he slowly turned
round, and remarked with surprise that one
of the images changed regularly to brightness
from obscurity. Next morning he repeated this
6. DOCTRINE
Heat is the great principle of all internal mo¬
tion. Its various changes and gradations deter¬
mine the growth of plants and the expansion
of animated beings. The knowledge of the pro¬
duction of fire was the earliest of human disco¬
veries, and already distinguished our species in
its lowest condition from the brute tenants of
the forest. The application of that element has
most essentially contributed to the advancement
of the arts and the general progress of society.
It has contributed prodigiously to the increase of
population, by converting the crude produce of
the soil into nutritive and wholesome aliments.
Applied in a higher degree, it has aided industry
in fashioning the various utensils necessary for
the comforts of life; but urged to the greatest in¬
tensity, it has enabled man to fuse the metallic
ores, and forge those efficient tools by which he
controls the powers of nature, and renders them
subservient to his convenience. What a vast in¬
terval in the range of progression from the rude
savage, that laboriously kindles two sticks by rub¬
bing them, to the experienced engineer, who com¬
bines all the deductions of philosophy in wield¬
ing and directing the resistless force of steam !
observation with the same results, and soon
found that light reflected at a certain angle
from the surface of glass acquires the same
character as the extraordinary ray in the double
refracting prism. Water showed a similar
disposition, but at a different angle of inci¬
dence. It was not difficult to trace the law
through the various reflecting surfaces; but
Malus extended his researches farther, and
pursued them with rapidity and success. But,
in the midst of this career, he was prema¬
turely carried away from his friends and the
philosophic world, by a lingering disease, on
the 23d of February 1812. The subject of
Polarity has been since carried forward by
several eminent experimenters both abroad
and at home, particularly by Arago, Biot,
and Fresnel, and by Brewster, Seebeck, and
Herschel; but it still wants the simplicity and
evidence which always mark the perfection of
science.
OF HEAT.
The Doctrine of Heat has, in the course of
the eighteenth century, been advanced to the
rank of a science. Its transfusion through the
mechanical arts has communicated a grand
movement to society, and wonderfully augment¬
ed our national wealth and resources. That a
subject so nearly concerned with the wants and
comforts of human life should have remained
during the lapse of ages in a state of mere in¬
fancy, might furnish matter for grave reflection.
The science is essentially experimental, while
the ingenuity of the ancients was expended in
framing loose and airy visions. Fire they held
to be the Fourth Element, which, by its extreme
levity, soared to the highest place in the Hea¬
vens, and spread its lambent ethereal essence
over the boundless regions of space. Being re¬
garded of pure divine origin, the sparks of the
celestial flame were believed to impart anima¬
tion to the beings of this nether world. But the
Heat which commonly pervades the terrestrial
bodies, and feeds our culinary fires, was consid¬
ered by the sages of antiquity as variable in its
constitution, and of a lower and perishable na¬
ture.
640
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Heat was viewed by Aristotle as a peculiar
element, composed of minute particles in con¬
tinual agitation. Bacon, after a very prolix
and confused exemplification ot bis formal me¬
thod of pursuing induction, arrived at a conclu¬
sion nearly similar, though less intelligible, that
Heat consists in a certain expansive motion.
But other philosophers, and especially the alche¬
mists, entertained juster notions of the subject.
They conceived Heat to be a material substance,
of extreme subtilty, diffused in various propor¬
tions internally through all bodies. Unfortu¬
nately those theorists were not very consistent
in their speculations. The different applications
of fire they considered as not merely varying in
degree, but quite distinct in kind. The heat of a
furnace and a stove, that of a sand and a water
bath, and that of putrefaction and fermentation,
seemed in their apprehension all separate species;
and animal heat was regarded by the Arabian
physicians as a finer essence, endued with invi¬
gorating and restoring virtue.
So long as such notions prevailed, it is evident
that no real advances could be made in the
knowledge of the properties of Heat. The first
thing required was to find a method of ascer¬
taining its intensity ; and for this invention we
are indebted to Sanctorio, Professor of Physic
in the University of Padua, the celebrated dis¬
coverer of Insensible Perspiration, who, near
the end of the sixteenth century, laboured with
ardour and success in improving Medical Science
by the application of Mechanics. Hero, of the
Alexandrian School, had anciently described a
curious machine, which, by the alternate ex¬
pansion and contraction of included air during
day and night, produced certain reciprocating
motions; the Paduan physician seized the prin¬
ciple, and constructed an instrument on a small
scale, chiefly adapted to measure the tempera¬
ture of the human body during fevers. It con¬
sisted of a pretty large ball of glass, terminating-
in a long narrow stem, which was inverted and
plunged perpendicularly in water or coloured
liquid. For the sake of convenience, the ball
Avas sometimes flattened on the one side, and
the stem rendered more compact by serpentine
involutions. With this instrument Sanctorio
tried to measure the heat of the rays shot from
the sun, and e\ren that of the lunar neams, which
were fancied then to have a gelid influence.
The Air Thermometer^ as it is now called, was
about twenty years afterwards, though proba¬
bly without any communication, reproduced by
Drebbel of Alcmaer in North Holland, who car¬
ried it, Avith other ingenious contrivances, into
England during the latter part of the reign ot
James I. The instrument being observed to be
affected by the changes of weather, Avas hence call¬
ed a Weather Glass. In fact, it indicated only the
elasticity of the air, which depends on the blend¬
ed operation of tAvo separate causes, the degree
of temperature, and the varying force of atmo¬
spheric pressure. But the latter influence Avas
yet unknown, nor till the great discoArery of the
Barometer by Torricelli could it be distinctly
traced. The insufficiency of the Air Thermo¬
meter Avas then perceiAred, and another fluid sub¬
stituted, which sensibly expands by heat while se¬
cluded from the compression of the atmosphere.
The Florentine Academicians, about the year
1655, first constructed an instrument of that kind,
consisting as before of a glass ball, but filled
with spirit of Avine, and having its stem of a
smaller bore, sealed hermetically, or melted at
the top by the flame of a blow-pipe. Italy had
thus the honour of inventing both those instru¬
ments, the Thermometer and Barometer, the
most important auxiliaries of modern science.
Three different forms of Thermometers, con¬
structed for the Academy del Cimenlo, Avere
copied and circulated oArer Europe. But the
great object now Avas to procure an exact cor¬
respondence, by fixing on some standard scale.
The Italians began the divisions at the cellar
heat, supposing this to be uniform; and they
marked other points by plunging the ball in
certain chemical mixtures. Boyle proposed
the freezing of the oil of aniseed for the
loAver point; and Halley recommended the
ebullition of alcohol as the limit of the scale.
The great advantage of deriving a point from
the congelation of AArater Avas not at first per-
ceiA^ed. Many observers believed it to vary
under different circumstances, being deceived
by the fact that water will bear a greater
cold before it shoots into crystals, though the
temperature at which ice or snow begins to
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
641
melt is always the same. Guericke was the
first who started from the thawing point, in di¬
viding the scale of a large spirit of wine ther¬
mometer. To regulate the divisions, two different
ways occurred; either to assume a higher point,
or to distinguish into small portions the capa¬
city of the ball. The latter was the mode adopt¬
ed by Newton, who recreated his mind with
chemical experiments. Employing linseed oil,
which expands largely, and bears a great heat,
he subdivided the capacity of the glass into
10,000 equal parts; and beginning from the
point of thawing ice, he found the liquid to ex¬
pand 256 at the heat of the human body, 725 at
boiling water, and 1516 at melting tin ; but
preferring smaller numbers, he assumed 12 for
blood heat, and reduced the other numbers in
the same proportion to 34 and 71. This method
was quite philosophical, but of very difficult
execution. A correct and ingenious process for
determining the scale of heat was proposed in
1694 by Renaldini, a learned Italian mathema¬
tician. Taking the freezing and boiling of
water for the extremes, he found the interme¬
diate points from a mixture of ten parts, com¬
posed progressively of melting snow and water
just ceased from ebullition, the ingredients
being 1 and 9, 2 and 8, 3 and 7, &c. About
twenty years afterwards, Brook Taylor and
Hauksbee applied that ingenious mode to as¬
certain whether the expansions of certain fluids
are exactly proportional to the corresponding
accessions of heat.
It had been proposed by Roemer to fill ther¬
mometers with quicksilver, and Halley adopt¬
ed the suggestion. But instruments of this
kind being observed to disagree with the com¬
mon spirit of wine thermometers, the cause of
such discrepancy was now detected. Alcohol
swells with increasing progression on the appli¬
cation of heat; while mercury shows the valu¬
able property of expanding with an uniform
advance.
After the point of thawing snow had been
fixed, the degrees of the scale were generally de¬
rived from the decimal subdivision of the capa¬
city of the ball. But this absolute bulk is not the
true basis of the scale, since the expansion indi¬
cated by the thermometer must be the excess of
mss. iv.
the dilatation of the liquid above that of the glass
which contains it. The mensuration of the ball
hence became troublesome and liable to much
uncertainty.
The first who succeeded in constructing ther¬
mometers with adequate skill was Fahrenheit.
This ingenious man had been a merchant at
Dantzic, and through misfortune failed in busi¬
ness ; but having a good taste for mechanics, he
removed into Holland, and settled as a philoso¬
phical instrument maker at Amsterdam. He
began with spirit of wine thermometers, which
he formed much smaller and neater than had
been attempted before. But he soon preferred
quicksilver, and having found it to expand
from freezing water to blood heat, about 60 parts
in 10,000, he assumed the number 64, and ob¬
tained the degrees by repeated bisections. In
this practice he was confirmed, on observing
what he considered as extreme cold, to descend
just through half that space, or 32 degrees. From
a mixture of water, ice, and sal ammoniac, the
scale commenced; 32 degrees were allotted for
the interval to ice-water, and 64 more for the
ascent to blood heat. But he afterwards enlarged
the range, and assumed another point from the
limit of boiling water, which he placed at the
212th degree in the mean state of the atmo¬
sphere, though liable to some variation from the
change of barometric pressure. Such was now
his confidence in the delicacy of the construction,
that he proposed the thermometer as an instru¬
ment for ascertaining the heights of mountains
from the depressed temperature of boiling water;
a very simple method, which has been lately re¬
vived by the reverend Mr Wollaston.
The thermometers manufactured by Fahren¬
heit being remarkably neat and convenient,
were, notwithstanding their arbitrary subdivision,
widely dispersed over Germany, and introduced
into Britain by the practitioners in physic, who at
that period usually resorted to Holland for medi¬
cal instruction. But most strangely in France
a very unwieldy and inaccurate instrument
maintained its ascendancy. The thermometer
of Reaumur had a ball near four inches in dia¬
meter, which was filled with spirit of wine dilut¬
ed with water. The scale began at the term of
congelation obtained by an artificial process, but
4 M
642
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
the highest point was marked by plunging the
instrument into boiling water. But it is evident
that the liquid could never reach this degree of
heat, but would stop several degrees lower at
the limit of its own ebullition. Besides, so large
a mass receiving the impression very slowly,
would not indicate with any precision the tem¬
perature of the surrounding medium. Reckon¬
ing the ball to contain 1000 parts of the fluid,
the whole expansion was found to be 871, and
Reaumur therefore took the round number 80
for the extent of his scale. The same artifi¬
cial subdivision is still very generally retained,
though transferred to the mercurial thermometer,
which is exempt from the glaring defects and
errors of the original instrument.
Provided with Fahrenheit’s thermometer, the
philosophers of Holland and Germany made some
progress in the science of heat, while France ap¬
peared to rest satisfied with mere speculation.
But experimenters were too eager in hastening
towards general conclusions. While the theory
of gravitation possessed the charm of novelty,
it seemed natural to suppose that heat is distri¬
buted among bodies according to their density
or mass. This inference, however, is often very
remote from the fact. Boerhaave found that a
pound of mercury at 200°, so far from communi¬
cating to a pound of water at 82° half the excess
of heat, or 84°, as another pound of water at that
high temperature would have done, gave only an
addition of 4° ; so that twenty pounds of mercury
had scarcely as much heating influence as a
single pound of water. It would have required,
according to his experiment, even a greater bulk
of mercury by one-half more, to produce the
same calorific effect as water. Had he perform¬
ed the process with due precaution, he might
have observed that hot water exerts as much in¬
fluence as mercury of 32 times its weight or 2^
times its volume. But this celebrated chemist,
satisfied with gross results, and mistrusting per¬
haps his own experiments, hastened to the con¬
clusion that heat is distributed among bodies in
proportion to their bulks, or maintains an equal dif¬
fusion through space. This principle was likewise
adopted by Musschenbroeck, and the simplicity
of the proposition seems to have procured it a
very general reception.
Wolfius, who about this time was spatiating
over the vast field of physical and moral science,
and forming a new philosophical sect in Germany,
taught that bodies had two sorts of interstices,
the one filled with air and the other charged with
fire. He attempted to explain why iron acquires
heat sooner than wood, and why the solution in
nitre occasions cold; but neglecting to follow
experiments, he pi’oduced only vague and shallow
speculation. Equally visionary, but enlivened
by French vivacity, was Mairau’s Dissertation
on Ice, published in 1740.
The most judicious writer that had yet ap¬
peared on the subject of heat was Dr Mar tine1
of St Andrews, who studied medicine on the
Continent, and, like the accomplished physicians
of that period, cultivated learning and general
science. His acute Essays, published in the
years 1739 and 1740, not only corrected the
different thermometric scales, but enriched phi¬
losophy by several well-devised and original ex¬
periments. Unfortunately the career of this pro¬
mising genius was very short. Having in the pur¬
suit of his profession accompanied Admiral Ver¬
non in the fatal expedition against Carthagena, he
perished by a malignant fever. Martine did not
consider with sufficient attention the unequal
distribution of heat among bodies, but he care¬
fully investigated the variable rates of heating
and cooling of different substances. Fie noticed
especially the facility with which mercury, in
comparison of water, receives or parts with its
heat. He conceived the process of cooling to be
commonly retarded by a sort of covering or
atmosphere of warm air closely encompassing
the body; and he endeavoured to distinguish two
sources of the dispersion of heat. Had such in¬
vestigations been steadily prosecuted, they must
have led to interesting results.
1 He was the son of George Martine, a small Fife proprietor, who having officiated as chamberlain to Archbishop Sharp,
wrote a credulous and bigoted account of the See of St Andrews. The youth displayed the principles of the defunct
Episcopacy, by heading a riot of some students at the College of St Andrews, on the breaking out of the feeble rebellion
in 1715.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
643
About this time, the practice of making obser¬
vations with the thermometer had become pretty
general in England, in consequence of the dif¬
fusion of the very neat and accurate instruments
manufactured by Fahrenheit and Prins, at Am¬
sterdam, which were likewise imitated in London
by Wilson, who afterwards established a flou¬
rishing type-foundry at Glasgow, and held the
professorship of Practical Astronomy. These
thermometers were filled with quicksilver, and
only four or five inches long, the stem clasped by
a folded paper scale, engraved with successively
bisected divisions, and the whole inclosed in a
thin glass case. But the most philosophical con¬
struction of the thermometer was now proposed
by the learned Celsius, who filled the chair of
Astronomy in the University of Upsal, and had
borne an active share in the operation of deter¬
mining a degree of latitude on the verge of the
Arctic Circle. He started from the point of
congelation, and reckoned just a hundred di¬
visions upwards to that of ebullition. This
simple scale, commonly used in Sweden and
Denmark, is the same as that which was after¬
wards adopted by the French under the name
of centigrade, in their complete and elegant
system of decimal weights and measures. It is
singular that Deluc, in rectifying Reaumur’s
thermometer, should have retained such an arti¬
ficial subdivision as that by fourscore. But this
philosopher had the merit of ascertaining that
mercury dilates almost uniformly with equal
additions of heat, while the expansion of the
spirit of wine is variable, and ascends with an
accelerating progression. A thermometer form¬
ed of alcohol, whether diluted or not, is hence
exceedingly inaccurate, unless it he regulated by
the comparison with a mercurial one.
The practice of using thermometers filled with
quicksilver led to the curious discovery of the con¬
gelation of that dense liquid. Pi-ofessor Gmelin,
who had been sent with a party of naturalists
to explore the remote regions of the Russian
empire, observed in Siberia, on the 16th of
January 1735, the mercury to sink in the ther¬
mometric tube to a point which corresponds to
the 120th degree below the zero of Fahrenheit’s
scale, while it changed into a solid mass. But
the artificial freezing of mercury was first per¬
formed by Braun, Professor of Philosophy at
Petersburg, in the month of December 1759,
when the natural cold seemed to he 34° under
the beginning of the scale. Having plunged the
bulb of a thermometer into a mixture of pounded
ice and sal ammoniac, the quicksilver appeared to
sink progresively to 350°, and then to consolidate.
But such enormous cold exceeded the hounds
of credibility, and iEpinus soon discovered the
source of this illusion. Employing tubes ot a
wider bore, he observed the quicksilver, drawing
afterit a concave surface, to retreat as it congealed,
and sink into the rest of the liquid mass. The
semi-metal must therefore have suffered a large
contraction in the act of freezing, and become
much denser. Yet twenty years elapsed before
the point of mercurial congelation was correctly
ascertained. On the 16th of Januaiy 1780, Von
Elterlein of Vytegra, a town of Northern Rus¬
sia, in the latitude of 61°, found that some pure
quicksilver exposed in a porcelain tea-cup during
the night had become solid, but began to melt
again when the thermometer rose to 40 degrees
below the zero of Fahrenheit’s scale. This limit
was more decisively fixed, at the suggestion ot
Dr Black, by Hutchins, then governor of Hud¬
son’s Bay, who repeatedly froze mercury during
the winter of 1781—2, by the application of artifi¬
cial cold. In rigorous climates, or for measuring
very depressed temperatures, it hence becomes
necessary to employ thermometers filled with
alcohol, which has never been made to freeze.
The cold occasioned by the evaporation of
water and other liquids in the more genial
regions had been known and turned to domestic
use from the earliest ages. In the northern
countries, that property, being less apparent,
was commonly disregarded; but the thermo¬
meter now detected changes which might elude
ordinary observation. It was soon remarked
that, after dipping the bulb in water or alcohol,
the quicksilver constantly sunk in the stem.
About the year 1750, Dr Cullen, then Lecturer
in Chemistry at Glasgow, in repeating some
experiments with a pupil, remarked that a ther¬
mometer with a wetted bulb showed a much
greater depression of temperature under the ex¬
hausted receiver of an air-pump. But he did
not pursue the observation farther, or attempt
644
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to investigate the theory of evaporation. This
interesting subject remained long afterwards in¬
volved in deep obscurity.
The temperature of water exposed to heat ap¬
pears to rest stationary at the two distinct limits
of freezing and boiling, which serve to mark the
points of the thermometric scale. Though the
fact had been long well known, it was first ex¬
amined with attention in 1760 and the three fol¬
lowing years by the celebrated Dr Black, who had
already distinguished himself by unfolding the
nature and properties of fixed air. He rightly in¬
ferred that a certain additional share of heat must
at each station unite with what is already lodged
in the substance of the ice or the water; but not
aware that he was really framing an hypothesis,
he termed the former latent and the latter sensible
heat. Strictly speaking, however, all heat is
latent or concealed from the senses, and never
exhibited in a detached form. The thermometer
indicates merely the heat contained in its own
bulb, and not necessarily that of the body with
which this communicates. “ But heat is evident¬
ly not passive; it is an expansive fluid, which di¬
lates in consequence of the repulsion subsisting
among its own particles; and it would spread in¬
definitely through space, if it were not fixed or
retained by the counterbalancing attraction of
the substances which absorb it. Were each cor¬
puscle to exert the same action, this universal
fluid would be disseminated among bodies, ex¬
actly in proportion to their respective quantities
of matter. The mutual adhesion depends, how¬
ever, on the density of the substance, modified
by its degree of inherent disposition to combine.
A sort of affinity or specific attraction for heat
is thus produced, evidently proceeding from the
peculiar nature of each body. To trace its im¬
mediate origin is not more possible perhaps
than to discover the source of other physical
properties. Yet there appears some tendency
towards a general principle : the particles of
heat, like those of all expansive fluids, have their
repulsion diminished in proportion to their mu¬
tual distance; while the molecules of the con¬
taining substance suffer the corresponding de¬
crease of attraction after a slower ratio than the
spaces of internal separation. Heat has there¬
fore a narrower range of density than the bodies
with which it combines. It holds a sort of
middle station, and is distributed according to
the quantity of matter, joined to the considera¬
tion of the space which this occupies; that is,
it obeys some compounded relation of the weight
and the bulk. Hence the denser bodies receive
a proportionally smaller share of heat. Thus,
a pound of metal contains less heat than one of
stone; this, less than an equal weight of liquid;
and this last, still less than a pound of any spe¬
cies of gas.”
<£ When two bodies are united chemically, the
compound has an attractive force generally dif¬
ferent from that of the mean result. Hence a
corresponding portion of heat is, during the act
of coalescence, either absorbed or evolved. Thus,
water, on being joined to sulphuric acid, occa¬
sions an extrication of heat, because the diluted
acid exerts less power of adhesion than did its
ingredients. And, for an opposite reason, the
muriate of ammonia, in dissolving, is attended
by an absorption of heat, or an apparent pro¬
duction of cold.”— 
“ Every substance capable of assuming differ¬
ent states of constitution betrays likewise ana¬
logous variations of attractive force. When a
solid body melts into a fluid, and thence passes
into vapour, each transit is marked by an aug¬
mentation of that force, and is therefoi-e accom¬
panied with a corresponding absorption of heat;
during which process, the temperature must
evidently remain stationary. Thus, a lump of
ice transported intensely cold into a close apart¬
ment, will grow warmer by regular gradations,
till it begins to thaw, and then the farther accu¬
mulation of heat will appear to be suspended;
and if the water so formed be poured into a
covered pot, and set over a steady fire, the tem¬
perature will again rise uniformly, till it reaches
the limit of boiling, when the act of conversion
to steam will henceforth absorb the whole affluent
heat; yet the temperature will mount still higher
if the escape of the vapour be prevented, but
which soon acquires such prodigious elasticity as
to burst whatever obstacle can be opposed to it.”1
1 Experimental Inquiry into the Nature and Propagation of Heat, pp. 529-531.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
645
The first that made any advance towards such
views of the distribution of heat was Irvine,
who had been assistant to Black at Glasgow.
Unfortunately he seems to have introduced the
term Capacity, which involves a crude notion, as
if heat were merely passive, filling up the interior
pores or internal vacuities of bodies. But, a
few years afterwards, Wilcke of Stockholm,
directed, he says, by the views of his col¬
league Klingenstierna, a mathematician and
philosopher of the first order, examined the sub¬
ject philosophically, and performed several accu¬
rate experiments. Thus, he found that water at
98° of Celsius, poured upon an equal weight of
snow, had its temperature reduced to 13°, and
that three parts of water at 40°, joined to one
of snow, produced the common temperature of
12°. These trials gave both the same result, or
73° of Celsius, corresponding to 129-6° on Fah¬
renheit’s scale, for the increase of heat required
to convert snow into water.1 A similar conclu¬
sion was obtained by filling equal tin vessels
with equal parts of snow and snow-water, and
placing these within a larger one full of boiling
water, and set over a fire; the moment the chill
water rose to 72°, the snow had all melted.
In 1780 Lavoisier, assisted by Laplace, and
employing his Calorimeter, ascertained the heat
evolved from different bodies during their va¬
rious changes, from the several quantities of ice
which it melted. This seemed to be a very simple
and correct mode of investigation; yet was it
liable to considerable inaccuracy, from the large
portion of water which still remained adhering
to the mass of pounded ice. But the French
chemists rather confused the subject, by mixing
up incongruous principles. Embracing the the¬
ory of Capacity, they likewise tacitly adopted
the hypothesis of sensible and latent heat, only
changing these terms by a sort of appropriation
into free and absolute, while the poverty of their
language suggested for that fluid such an im¬
perfect etymon as Caloric.
The best series of experiments on the dis¬
tribution of heat among different bodies was
performed before the year 1784 by Professor
Gadolin of Abo, who, rejecting the notion of
Capacity, introduced the unexceptionable ex¬
pression, Specific Heat. One of the most beau¬
tiful consequences derived from this theory, was
the determination of the absolute zero or lowest
point in the scale of Heat. Two different ways
of solving the problem led to nearly the same
results: 1. From the measure of Heat absorbed
in the melting of ice, and 2. From the quantity
evolved in the mixture of certain liquids. Thus,
it being found that the heat contained in water
is to that of ice as 10 to 9, and that 135 degrees
are required for the equilibrium of the liquid
constitution, it follows that the water just formed
must actually contain 1350 degrees of heat, or
that the real scale would descend to the enor¬
mous depth of 1318° below the beginning of
Fahrenheit’s divisions. Again, the concentrated
sulphuric acid holding only six tenth parts of
the heat of water, the arithmetical mean of a
mixture of one part of it by weight with three
of water would evidently be nine tenths; but
suppose the specific heat of that compound were
only eight tenths, while the thermometer rose
on the affusion 169°, or from 32° to 201°, the
whole extension below the point of congelation
would be 8° x 169°, or 1352°. This experiment
is susceptible of greater accuracy than the for¬
mer, and deserves to be repeated in different
proportions. Considerable discrepancies have
hitherto affected such observations, arising pro¬
bably from the want of sufficient precaution in
the manner of conducting them.
Dr Crawford followed nearly the same train,
and was enabled, by employing finer instruments,
to obtain a greater degree of precision. He took,
on tho whole, a philosophical view of the sub¬
ject, but sacrificed his better judgment to popu¬
lar opinion, by retaining also the hypothesis of
Latent Heat, “ the ideas associated with which
have spread a cloud of mystery and paradox
most unfavourable to the progress of real science.”
It is to be regretted that a similar confusion of
ideas should still pervade the writings of so
1 In the first experiment the hot water lost 98° — IS0, or 85°, while the snow water gained only 13°, or had absorbed
72°: in the second experiment the hot water had transferred 3 (40 — 12) or 84°, and consequently 84° — 12°, or 72°, was
spent in liquefying the snow. If every precaution were used, the measure of heat absorbed would amount to 75® of Celsius,
or 135° by Fahrenheit’s scale.
646
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
many of the chemical philosophers. Crawford
had expected much accuracy from thermometers
with large bulbs and minute subdivisions; but
these advantages were more than overbalanced
by the want of delicacy to transient impressions.
On a revision of the experiments from which he
sought to ground his theory of animal heat, he
had occasion to change the numerical results.
About this time shone forth the brilliant and
original genius of Scheele, who not only ex¬
panded the boundaries of chemistry by his va¬
rious inventions, but enriched other departments
of physical science. In particular, he bestowed
a keen glance on the subject of the emission of
Heat.
That Heat, and even the opposite influence, im¬
pression of Cold, admits of Reflexion, like light, is
a property long known, and had been distinctly an¬
nounced by Baptista Porta, in the sixth edition of
his Natural Magic, printed about the year 1590.
This remarkable experiment was more particu¬
larly described in 1632 by Cavalleri in his tract
on the Burning Speculum: it was repeated and
varied in 1658 by the members of the Academy
del Cimento, who received the impression on the
bulb of an air thermometer. The concentration
of cold in the focus of a metallic reflector was
again tried, during the severe winter of 1740,
by the academicians of Petersburg, though with
rather doubtful results, owing to their ignorance
of the true circumstances on which the success
depends. But, after an apparent oblivion of near
forty years, the experiment was revived with
striking effect at Geneva, and continues to hold
a conspicuous place in every course of physical
lectures.
Mariotte, as far back as the year 1682, had
made a capital remark, which some late disco¬
veries have revived and explained. That able
experimenter, in concentrating the heat of a fire
by help of a burning mirror,1 found the effect
to cease when a piece of glass was interposed
behind the focus. A similar experiment was
about the same time made by Hooke, though
not published till very long afterwards. This
ingenious philosopher showed that a glass mir¬
ror which reflects light will not repel heat.
But these interesting facts lay buried for a cen¬
tury amidst a multitude of scattered observa¬
tions, and seem to have first attracted the no¬
tice of Saussure and Pictet, both of whom, and
especially the latter, carried the investigation
to some extent. They still wanted the connect¬
ing principle, which should embody and re¬
animate the mass.
Scheele pursued a similar path, but was little
versant in the history of science, and had none
of the advantages of an improved apparatus.
Endowed with original and inventive powers,
he followed the current of his own conceptions,
and consulted always the book of Nature. An
examination of the circumstances disclosed in
the management of stoves and chemical furnaces,
induced him to consider Heat or Fire as existing
under two distinct modifications; one which rises
and spreads by a successive transfer among the
ambient substances, and the other which streams
immediately from its source in rectilineal direc¬
tions. The latter he designated by the phrase Ra¬
diant Heat, which has since become a favourite
appellation. If this expression indicated merely
the tendency of Heat, under certain circum¬
stances, to disperse in straight lines, it would be
quite unexceptionable. But in technical lan¬
guage, the Radiation of Caloric associates an ob¬
scure idea of a subtile fluid invested with vague
or uncertain properties.
The common thermometer comprises, between
freezing and boiling mercury, the space of scarce¬
ly 700 degrees; which is evidently but a small
portion of the vast range of heat. It was most
desirable, therefore, to have an instrument of
greater extent, adapted especially to the ascend¬
ing scale. The Pyrometer, composed of metallic
1 This must have been a metallic reflector: an ordinary mirror, or one of silvered glass, will scarcely collect any heat at all.
Indeed the art of applying a metallic plate to the surface of glass is a modern invention. The earliest method was the
Dutch, which consisted in pouring melted lead intensely hot over a sheet of glass softened nearly to fusion. But the
adhesion was afterwards more easily obtained in the ordinary way, by applying tinfoil to the glass, and dextrously flooding
it with mercury, to form an amalgam. It is from this shining metallic coating that light is chiefly reflected, having pene¬
trated and again escaped through the substance of the glass. But with regard to Heat, a very small reverberation takes
place at the anterior surface of the glass, and the effect is exactly the same if the silvering be rubbed off. It would prevent
much confusion were chemical writers to appropriate the term speculum to metallic reflectors.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
647
bars, answered, though very imperfectly, that pur¬
pose. But the elegant contrivance of Wedgwood,
the celebrated improver of English pottery, pro¬
mised the greatest advantages, both to science and
the chemical arts. It consisted merely of a small
cylindrical piece of finely prepared clay, which
bears the most intense heat, and yet regularly
contracts in the fire. Assuming that the intensity
of heat must cause a proportional contraction, he
measured this by sliding the thermometric piece
within a tapered groove, its width at the one end
being to that of the other as 5 to 3, and its whole
length divided into 240 equal parts. By com¬
paring the dilatation of silver, it was found that
each of these divisions answers to 130 degrees ot
Fahrenheit’s scale. Hence the melting points of
silver, gold, and cast-iron, and those of the fusion
of flint-glass and of Chinese porcelain, being re¬
spectively 28, 32, 130, 114, and 156, by Wedg¬
wood, would correspond to the enormous num¬
bers 4717°, 5237°, 17977°, 15897°, and 21257°.
These results, however, appear far to transcend
the truth. The principle of the instrument is
totally different from that of the thermometer.
It does not mark the transient impression of
heat, but the change or permanent effect pro¬
duced on the bit of clay by baking^ or the ex¬
posing it during a certain time to the action ot
the furnace. Hence the very ingenious method
of discovering the degrees of heat which the
Chinese and the ancient Etruscans employed
in their potteries, by observing the moment
when a specimen of their ware subjected to an
increasing fire began to contract anew. That
contraction is undoubtedly caused by the ex¬
pulsion of a part of the water held so obstinate¬
ly by the clay, the repulsive force excited by
the accession of heat controlling the adhesion
of the moisture. It may be inferred that the clay
attracts the remains of latent humidity with a
force always increasing; but the repulsion in¬
fused by the conversion of the expelled particles
into steam ascends nearly in a geometrical pro¬
gression with equal accessions of heat. A nearer
approximation to the scale of temperature might
probably be derived from the logarithms of the
very large numbers stated above.
It remains however still an important deside¬
ratum to construct a thermometer that shall
accurately measure the higher degrees of heat
The fusible metal, composed of lead, tin, and
bismuth, has been suggested as an expansible
substance, which may be heated to near the fusion
of copper; but, in congealing again, it unfortu¬
nately swells suddenly, and would burst its glass
ball. A combination of metallic bars has like¬
wise been proposed, though no plan for effecting
this has yet been devised, sufficiently simple and
reducible to practice.
Metallic thermometers have indeed been con¬
structed, which indicate with great delicacy
the ordinary temperature, and all the sudden
changes of heat. These consist generally ot thin
slips of steel and brass, united together, and
formed into circles or spirals. The most elegant
instruments of this sort were executed at Paris,
by the late ingenious artist Breguet.
It was an object of much greater consequence
to construct a register-thermometer, which should
mark the greatest heat and cold during the ab¬
sence of the observer. This had been attempted
by different experimenters in the course of the
eighteenth century, but was first carried to
any tolerable perfection about the year 1780, by
Mr Six of Canterbury. These registers consisted
of spirit of wine thermometers, with compound
reverted stems, partially filled with quicksilver,
which carried small bits of steel to indicate
the limits of ascent. With such instruments
the inventor made some curious observations on
local heat, or on the differences of temperature
at moderate altitudes during the alternations of
day and night. He particularly remarked the
influence of a clear sky in chilling the ground.
The simplest and most commodious register-
thermometers, however, were a few years after¬
wards contrived by Dr Rutherford, an ingenious
physician, who resided on his property in the
neighbourhood of Kinross. They turn on a
pivot, the stems being placed nearly horizontal,
and only reclined occasionally for adjustment
after the heat of the day. The minimum ther¬
mometer is filled with alcohol, and the maxi¬
mum one with mercury, the tubes of both being
rather wide, with bits of enamel swelled at
each end, which are drawn down the slant¬
ing tube by the retreat of the alcohol, or pushed
upwards by the expansion of the mercury. Ruth¬
erford’s thermometer was first happily applied
by his neighbour Dr Coventry, the well-known
648
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
Professor of Agriculture in the University of
Edinburgh, in ascertaining the progress of heat
into the ground, and its effects on the germina¬
tion of the seeds of the ccrealia. Some curious
facts have thus been detected regarding the in¬
fluence of an herbaceous covering to retard the
penetration of frost.
The thermometer soon afterwards received
a most important modification, which renders
that instrument extremely sensible to the alter¬
ations of local heat. This improvement consist¬
ed in adapting the instrument to measure, not
the actual temperature of any spot, but its occa¬
sional change or variation. The extent of the
scale being limited, the dimensions of the de¬
grees could be proportionally enlarged.
The construction of the Differential Thermo¬
meter was early suggested by a close analysis of
the phsenomena of evaporation. It is well known
that a wet sponge suspended in the air loses gra¬
dually its water, and during this dissipation it
continues colder than the ench'cling medium.
The depressed temperature was commonly attri¬
buted to a process of rapid evaporation, which
seemed to result from the combined action of vari¬
ous causes,—the heat of the air, its state of dry¬
ness or rarefaction, but especially the swiftness
of its circulation. Halley had, near the close of
the seventeenth century, advanced the rational
hypothesis, that moisture is exhaled from the
surface of water by a sort of chemical solution
in the atmosphere. The same opinion was
about the middle of the following century pro¬
posed and expounded by Le Roy of Montpellier;
but though supported by concurring analogies,
it might appear perhaps too simple for the ge¬
neral taste. The fanciful notion, first started
by Derham, that evaporation is occasioned by
very minute vesicles or hollow spherules of
water, charged with highly attenuated air, which
rise and float in the atmosphere, proved more
acceptable to a wondering public. The vesicular
theory afterwards obtained a wide currency from
the philosophical reputation of Saussure, who
considered it as countenanced by some dubious
optical appearances. But the mere subdivision
of fluid matter could produce no change of tem¬
perature, and the clearest facts are opposed to
the notion of a passive dispersion of aqueous
corpuscles.
An absorption of heat always accompanies
the passage of a fluid from the liquid to the
gaseous form, which seems to require the same
surplus, in whatever way the conversion has
been produced. If a body of air be confined
over a surface of water, it will soon become
charged with moisture, and then there is no
more evaporation. But if the damp air be suf¬
fered to escape and disperse itself, the process
will be perpetually renewed. The correspond¬
ing abstraction or transfer of heat must conse¬
quently proceed without intermission. Although
the dissipation of moisture and of heat from a
humid surface exposed to a current of air con¬
tinues incessant, the coldness thence resulting
is not, however, likewise progressive. A wet
sponge or a porous vessel full of water will,
when placed in the same situation, gradually
arrive at a certain depression of temperature;
nor will this limit alter without a change of cir¬
cumstances. It follows, therefore, that the ex¬
haling surface, after it has become colder than
the ambient medium, must begin to receive as
well as to discharge heat. Every thin shell of
air which successively comes to touch the hu¬
mid surface must be cooled down to this stand¬
ard, and thus deliver its excess of heat, while it
absorbs another portion spent in vapourizing the
moisture it dissolves. As the process of evapo¬
ration goes on, the heat communicated at each
repeated contact of the fugacious medium must
soon come to be precisely equal to what is again
abstracted from the exhaling liquid in the act of
saturation. When this equality of interchange
is attained, the resulting temperature must have
reached its lowest point of depression, where it
will continue stationary. But the heat deposit¬
ed by each successive shell of air must evidently
be proportional to that depression, which will
hence indicate the portion of humidity that
passes into the gaseous state of solution ; or the
difference of temperature induced will furnish
an accurate measure of the dryness or distance
from saturation of the circulating air. To ob¬
tain, therefore, a perfect Hygrometer, it was
only required to construct a Thermometer that
should mark distinctly small differences of heat.
In the first application of this principle, made
as early as the year 1791, the water was eva¬
porated from a thin porous earthen cup, like
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
649
a truncated egg-shell; and the thermometer had
rather a large bulb, with a very narrow bore,
and bearing a scale of only a few degrees sub¬
divided into tenth parts. The tube was not
sealed, but had a wider cup of glass cemented a
little below the top, containing some mex*cury,
which united with that of the stem when the
instrument was inverted, and separated the mo¬
ment it was dipped into the evaporating cup,
leaving the mercurial thread to contract down¬
wards from the end. This arrangement was
found, with due care and attention, to answer
satisfactorily. It was more than three years
afterwards, when the severity of the season
suggested the idea of making the ball of the
thermometer itself the evaporating surface, by
covering it with a crust of ice.
The next advance was at all times to invest
the ball with a thick coat of tissue paper or soft
lint, that should hold a sufficient charge of
water. To find the depression of temperature
which marks the dryness of the air, nothing
was wanted but to compare it with another
thermometer having a naked bulb. This pur¬
pose appeared to be most easily effected, by
joining the stems of two air-thermometers; and
thus was fortunately produced the Differ¬
ential Thermometer, which under a variety
of forms is capable of so many curious and im¬
portant applications. Its primary object was
to serve for an Hygrometer, but the instrument
was soon fou^d, when placed out of doors, to
be sensibly deranged by the diffuse light of the
sky. This circumstance led to its modification
as a Photometer, the covering being removed
from one of the balls, and the other ball blown
of black enamel. The addition of a pellucid
glass case now became necessary, to screen the
action of light from the consuming and irregu¬
lar influence of wind. The luminous rays pass
without interruption through the clear ball, but
are by the dark ball absorbed and converted into
heat, which continues to accumulate and to raise
the temperature, till the corresponding augment¬
ed dispersion of heat by the ambient air comes
at length to equal the continued accessions from
the afflux of light.
In arranging the instrument as an Hygrome¬
ter, it was hence requisite to neutralize the pho-
tometrical influence, by covering the evaporat¬
ing ball with coloured silk, and blowing glass
or enamel of the same shade for the naked ball.
A free exposure to the atmosphere is in this
case essential. The sweep of the wind may
accelerate the equilibrium, but cannot derange
its limit; for the same portion of air which ab¬
stracts vapour and the constituent heat, likewise
deposits its excess of temperature on the chilled
surface of the wet ball. The interposition of a
screen will not in the smallest degree affect the
indication of this Hygrometer,—a result at com¬
plete variance with the notions generally re¬
ceived. To regulate the scale of the instrument,
the tenth part of the centesimal subdivision was
adopted, or the distance from freezing to boil¬
ing was distinguished into a thousand degrees.
By successive improvements in its construc¬
tion, the Differential Thermometer was render¬
ed simple, precise, and elegant. But the instru¬
ment still betrayed imperfection, the limit of
equilibrium or the zero of the scale visibly sinking
in the course of several months. This was owing
to the diminished elasticity of air in immediate
contact with the liquid lodged below one of the
balls, which continued to absorb oxygen, and
deposit its colouring matter. But early in
1800 every source of error was removed, by
adopting, as the movable fluid, concentrated sul¬
phuric acid tinged with carmine, which remains
unaltered for any length of time, though ex¬
posed to the full glare of the sun.
The precision of the Differential Thermome¬
ter now fitted it for a variety of nice inquiries.
One of the most important was to ascertain the
alteration of the charge of heat in air, cor¬
responding to a change of the elasticity or vo¬
lume of this fluid. When the variation was
small, the allowance of two centesimal degrees
for each hundredth part of the difference of
density seemed to be a very near approxima¬
tion. Thus, if a mass of air be condensed one
fiftieth part, it will have its temperature raised
one degree, or give out one degree of heat; on
the contrary, a like expansion of air occasions
an equal absorption of that element, or the ap¬
pearance of cold. But when the difference of
elasticity is considerable, some modification be¬
comes requisite; and a very simple formula was
found to connect the experimental results. Let
this elasticity change from 1 to e} then the heat
4 N
DISS. IV.
650
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
evolved or absorbed is expressed in centesimal
degrees by 25° or 1 A si¬
milar mode of investigation determined the re¬
lative shares of heat contained in the artificial
gases and in common air.
This principle elucidates the decrease of tem¬
perature in the higher strata of the atmosphere,
while the formula exhibits the scale of grada¬
tion. Hence, knowing the mean temperature
of the ground at any part of the globe, it is easy
to compute the elasticity and corresponding
elevation which would reduce that to the zero,
and mark the limit of perpetual congelation. A
curve is thus traced, bending at first with a
gentle declivity on either side from the equator,
and then descending more rapidly and turning
with a contrary flexure, grazing along the sur¬
face at the pole. The application of the instru¬
ment led more immediately to the solution of
another important physical problem,—to deter¬
mine the proportion of humidity or of volatiliz¬
ed water which air is capable of holding in so¬
lution at different temperatures. A very simple
law was derived,—that the quantity of moisture
dissolved constantly doubles at every 15 degrees
in the rise of temperature. Thus, air at the
freezing point may contain the two hundredth
part of its weight of moisture, hut at 15° it will
hold the 100th, at 30° the 50th, at 45° the 25th
part; so that, if it were safe to push the pro¬
gression to its extremity, the air could unite
with rather more than half its weight of steam
at the limit of ordinary ebullition.
Similar conclusions were derived from the
waste by exhalation at different temperatures.
A large hollow ball of thin metal, covered with a
close coat of linen, and filled with boiling water,
being suspended from the end of a fine beam, and
10 grains of water at successive intervals repeat¬
edly sprinkled over the surface, the times of
dissipation were carefully noted, and the corre¬
sponding solvent powers of air hence inferred.
The Hygrometer likewise determined the re¬
lative portions of Heat contained in water and
air. It is evident, from the theory before ex¬
plained, that were the heat diffused according
to the densities of these fluids, each millesi¬
mal degree of moisture would equal the 6000th
part of the air which held it. But adopting
the capacity or measure assigned to air by
Dr Crawford (then esteemed the most accurate),
each hygrometric degree would correspond to
the 3460th part of the weight of the solvent.
Both of these proportions were found, however,
to differ widely from the truth. A wet card
being tied to the instrument, it was let down
into the centre of a large glass globe with a
narrow neck, containing 4000 cubic inches of air,
and suspended through a hole in the glass cover
from a fine balance; the progress of humifaction
and the concomitant loss of weight were at short
intervals of time nicely observed. From this
comparison it resulted, that the moisture suffi¬
cient to mark an hygrometric degree is only the
20,000th part of the air with which it unites.
Hence the atmospheric fluid, instead of being
charged with nearly twice as much beat as water,
as had been generally presumed, holds only three-
tenths of that quantity. The proportion after¬
wards given, in some elaborate experiments of
Petit and Dulong, was rather smaller, or 26
parts in 100; but the former result is simpler,
and probably more exact.
The principles thus established serve at once
to confirm and illustrate the ingenious Theory
of Rain, which the keen sagacity of Dr James
Hutton had elicited from observation about the
year 1786. The commixing of two bodies of
damp air that have different temperatures, must
always occasion a precipitation of moisture more
or less copious; for, since the solvent power
augments in a geometrical progression, the loss
of it which the warmer air suffers will con¬
stantly exceed what is gained by the heating of
the colder portion of the damp mass.
A curious conclusion followed from those
data: Supposing the vast canopy of air, by some
sudden change of internal constitution, at once
to discharge its whole watery store, this precipi¬
tate would form a sheet of scarcely five inches
thick over the surface of the globe. Dui’ing the
course of a year, our atmosphere must there¬
fore deposit five or even ten times all the mois¬
ture it held in solution. To explain the actual
phsenomena, it is hence requisite that this rest¬
less medium should change unceasingly from
a state of dryness to humidity. Such alter¬
nations are effected by the system of winds,
which sweep variously over the land and the
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
651
ocean. But to complete Dr Hutton’s Theory of
Rain, it becomes necessary to have recourse to
the operation of opposite humid currents of dif¬
ferent temperatures, which bring their grazing
surfaces into rapid intermixture over a given
spot, where the aqueous precipitate is copiously
discharged.
A further application of the Hygrometer de¬
tected the influence of rarefaction in augmenting
the dryness of air. The change is rendered very
perceptible, by introducing that instrument in its
quiescent state under the receiver of a pneuma¬
tic machine. On working the pump, the hygro-
metric action which had ceased is instantly re¬
newed, and urged constantly forward in propor¬
tion as the process of exhaustion advances. The
dryness thus induced amounts to 50 degrees,
every time the rarefaction is doubled. If air
had the same temperature at all elevations, it
would exhibit a regular gradation of dryness.
But at each ascent of 2800 feet, though the air
is constitutionally 7 degrees drier, it likewise
becomes 5 degrees colder. This continued di¬
minution of temperature predominates at first
over the progressive arid quality of the medium,
till the apparent moisture has become extreme,
beyond which limit the attenuated air continues
to spread drier and more pellucid. The Curve
of Greatest Humidity, forming the proper range
of clouds, rises about two miles above the Line
of Perpetual Congelation. The pervading clear¬
ness of the upper region, without which the
surface of our Earth would have been wrapped
in perpetual darkness, is entirely owing to the
property of rarefaction augmenting the solvent
power of the air.
From the theory of the Hygrometer, it is ob¬
vious that the instrument marks the dryness
of the ambient air only at the reduced tempe¬
rature of the wetted ball. To find the true
dryness of the atmosphere, a correction is to be
applied for the superior solvent power of its ac¬
tual temperature. With this view auxiliary
tables are constructed, which give also the
coldness of extreme humidity, or what has been
termed the Dewing Point. But it is liable to
considerable uncertainty. Placed within a me¬
tallic case, the wetted Hygrometer will gain
the zero of the scale; but when covered with a
glass shade, it will stand at 5 or even 10 degrees
of dryness, the vitreous surface, aided by heat,
abstracting the humidity from the inclosed air,
and preventing it from attaining the state of
saturation.
The Differential Thermometer was now di¬
rected to a more extensive and important sub¬
ject of inquiry,—the mode of the propagation of
heat among various bodies. Considering it as
a subtile diffusible fluid, a nice investigation of
the phsenomena might disclose the nature of its
connexion with other substances. Ascending by
a regular gradation, bodies may be distinguished
into solid, liquid, and gaseous. Suppose a cylin¬
der of silver, cased in down, had the one end
heated always to the same degree, the heat would
advance and discharge itself from the other.
If the igneous fluid were merely passive, like a
current of water, the elevation of temperature
and the inverse length of the cylinder would
follow the square of the velocity of discharge,
and not the simple ratio, as actually observed.
Heat is therefore never passive, but powerfully
attracted by its recipient. No portion of the
cylinder can receive or deposit its heat, without
simultaneously suffering a corresponding expan¬
sion or contraction. The heat is thus transfer¬
red from stage to stage, by a series of concate¬
nated dilatations and contractions; and these al¬
ternate oscillations, which are quicker in some
substances than in others, create the only impe¬
diments to the flow, that would otherwise be al¬
most instantaneous. The elasticity of heat must
be prodigious, since its weight eludes all exami¬
nation. Considering its extreme tenuity, the
expansive energy which it displays can only be
assimilated to the mutual repulsion of the par¬
ticles of Light. Every appearance, indeed, seems
to indicate that Heat is merely Light under a
latent and combined form.1
In the case of liquid substances, the commu-
1 “ The only fluid we know, combining enormous elasticity with extreme diffusion, is Light itself, which when embodied
constitutes Elemental Heat, or Fire. It is elicited from every substance by percussion or compression, by electrical agency
or chemical affinity. With every species of light our vision is equally perfect, and consequently the luminous particles must
652
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
nication of Heat is more complicated. Suppose
Heat were applied to the upper surface of a ves¬
sel containing water, its influence would gra¬
dually descend, precisely in the same manner as
if the whole mass had been consolidated ; for the
warmer and dilated portions, retaining their
several positions, would continue to float in suc¬
cessive strata graduating downwards. But if
the bottom of the vessel were subjected to the
same process of heating, the water, as fast as it
grew warmer and specifically lighter, would rise
and diffuse its acquired heat. The communica¬
tion of this influence would hence become rapid,
and spread itself in horizontal strata. But
every renewal of the sentient surface must like¬
wise promote the dispersion of heat through a
fluid mass. Such is the expenditure of heat
from a hot ball plunged in the current; but in
cold still water, the heat being dispersed by two
distinct processes, the ball at first cools in a
much faster ratio than the difference of tempe¬
rature, but ultimately approximates to that ratio.
The loss of heat is, however, the same, whatever
be the nature of the surface encircled by the
water, whether of metal or glass, or cased in
linen. Water moving in a current at the rate
of only a mile an hour, will abstract four times
as much heat as if it had remained stagnant.
But when a hot hall is suspended in air, an¬
other element of dispersion now comes into play.
The air in contact becoming heated and rarefied,
ascends continually and scatters the heat. But
another portion of heat is discharged from the
cooling surface by a rapid rectilineal projec¬
tion. This emanation is best observed in sub¬
stituting a cubical vessel with different sides of
glass, or of polished or papered metal. It is
most powerful in front, diminishing laterally
as the cosine of the angle of declination. From
a surface of linen the propulsion of heat is ten
times, and from that of glass eight times greater,
than from a bright polished metallic surface.
This peculiar dissemination of heat, which from
a glass ball amounts to nearly half of the
whole discharge, is not performed by the ac¬
tual flow of the heated air, though it requires
the agency of a gaseous medium. The dis¬
charge can be collected at any distance by
a metallic reflector, and thrown concentrated
on the naked ball of the Differential Thermo¬
meter. But the intervention of a large sheet of
tin-foil obstructs the whole effect, while a very
fine screen of gauze, which would stop the pas¬
sage of streamlets of hot air, scarcely impedes
the operation. It is impossible, therefore, to
resist the conclusion, that what has been vaguely
termed the radiation of heat, consists in a certain
propulsive effort or internal tremor, excited in
the gaseous medium, analogous to the undula-
tory propagation of sound. The air can be
shown to have a closer contact with glass than
with metal, and hence the former surface exerts
a superior energy of pulsation. The interval in
the case of glass appears to be about the 500th
part of an inch. A metallic ball, coated with
the finest gold-beater’s skin, of only the 3000th
part of an inch in thickness, will have its pul¬
satory energy augmented from 1 to 6; and by
the addition of other films, this dispersive power
will successively rise to 10.
' In air rarefied 200 times, the abd active power
from the glass balls is reduced from 6 to 1,
while the peculiar discharge of heat at the naked
surface is depressed from 7 to 5, and that at the
gilt surface from 1 to |; the naked ball emit¬
ting now 6| parts of heat, and the gilt one only
2\. The effects are changed in a different gase¬
ous medium. Thus, the same balls, with a vitre¬
ous and metallic surface, would discharge 31
and 25 parts of heat if immersed in hydrogen,
both of them losing 24 parts by the powerful ab¬
duction of that gas. But were the medium
rarefied about 200 times, the quantities of heat
emitted from the naked and the gilt ball would
be reduced to 13 and 8|.
The principle thus unfolded applies with ma¬
thematical precision, and illumines an exten¬
sive train of phsenomena. It likewise suggests
in all cases dart forward with the same celerity, or travel at the rate of about 200,000 miles in a second. But since atmo¬
spheric air is projected into a vacuum with the velocity of only a quarter of a mile each second, the motion of Light is thus
800,000 times more rapid. Wherefore the propulsive force of Light compared with that of Air is expressed by the square of
this number, or 640 billions.” In the state of combination with Air, since it must have the same elasticity as that fluid,
Light must hence be 544,000,000,000,000,000 times rarer than water. See Elements of Natural Philosophy, vol. i. p. 452.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
653
various improvements in the practical arts, and
in general economy. One of the finest modi¬
fications of the Differential Thermometer con¬
verts it into the Pyroscope, by merely gilding
richly one of its halls. By this alteration it is
fitted to measure nicely the hot or cold pulses,
and hence to determine the relative powers of
fuel, and the efficacy of variously constructed
chimneys. The access of heat is almost entirely
repelled from the gilt ball, while its accumulation
on the naked ball is regulated by its subsequent
tendency to disperse through the ambient air.
The action of wind must evidently lower the
effect, insomuch that a current at the rate of only
eight miles an hour will reduce it to the half.
To fit the Pyroscope for observations out of
doors, it became therefore necessary to shelter
it from the sweep of aerial streams. This pro¬
tection was obtained by adopting the pendant
form of the Differential Thermometer, inclosing
the lower ball within a larger one of silver, and
inserting the upper one in the focus of an oblong
spheroidal cup, cut over at the remoter focus.
It was thus converted into an JEthrioscope, which
indicates the cold pulses darted at all times from
the higher strata of a clear atmosphere, hut
more copious in summer than in winter, and
stronger during the day than the night. The
information afforded by that delicate instrument
completely elucidates the successhTe steps towards
a correct Theory of the formation of Dew, by
Musschenbroeck, Dufay, Six, Wilson, Bernard
Prevost, and finally the late ingenious Dr Wells.
In analyzing the process of evaporation, the
cold induced on the humid surface was attri¬
buted solely to the quickened transfer of the
contiguous portions of the ambient medium.
“ But the conterminous air must besides com¬
municate heat to the water by pulsation; and
consequently the balance of temperature would
be liable to incidental variations, if moisture,
with its embodied heat, were not likewise ab¬
stracted by some corresponding process. And
such is the harmonious adaptation of these ele¬
ments. The discharge of vapour appears to be
subject precisely to the same conditions as the
emission of heat, and in both cases the proximi¬
ty of a vitreous or a metallic surface produces
effects which are entirely similar.” This beau¬
tiful property was established by decisive expe¬
riments, which render the theory of the Hygro¬
meter absolutely complete. But the perfor¬
mance of that instrument received further con¬
firmation and clear elucidation from the con¬
trast of the Atmometer, which indicates with
great accuracy the quantity of exhalation from
a given surface in a certain time.
A train of observations performed by this
Hygrometer in 1810 led to the method of pro¬
ducing artificial congelation on a large scale.
Having ascertained the increased power of
aqueous solution which air acquires as it grows
thinner, it was next suggested to combine the
action of a vigorous absorbent with the transient
dryness created within a receiver by rarefac¬
tion. “On introducing a broad surface of concen¬
trated sulphuric acid, this substance was found
to superadd its peculiar attraction for moisture
to the ordinary effects resulting from the pro¬
gress of exhaustion; and, what was still more
important, it continued to support, with scarce¬
ly diminished energy, the dryness thus created.
The attenuated air was not suffered, as before,
to grow charged with humidity; but each por¬
tion of this medium, as fast as it became satu¬
rated by touching the evaporating porous dish,
transported its vapours to the acid, and was
thence sent back denuded of the load, and fit¬
ted again to renew its attack. By this perpe¬
tual circulation, therefore, between the exhaling
and the absorbing surface, the diffuse residuum
of air is maintained constantly at the same state
of dryness. Heat is hence abstracted in pro¬
portion to this invigorated evaporation. If air
be rarefied only 50 times, a depression of tem¬
perature will be produced, amounting to 80 or
even 100 degrees of Fahrenheit’s scale.” It is
hence easy in the hottest weather, and in every
climate, to freeze a body of water, and keep it
in a congealed state, till it gradually wastes
away by a continual but invisible process of eva¬
poration. On a large scale the operation would be
conducted the most profitably; insomuch that a
proper system of air-pumps, put in motion by a
steam-engine of only six horse power, might in
the climate of London produce at the rate of
a ton of pure ice every day. Other absorbent
substances besides sulphuric acid could be em-
654
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
ployed, though not so advantageously; such as
pounded trap-rock slightly roasted, parched oat¬
meal, and dry sole-leather. When water is ex¬
cluded, the dryness created within the exhaust¬
ed receiver may be turned to different useful
purposes. This process is now commonly em¬
ployed, especially on the Continent, in the nicer
chemical analyses. It can likewise be directed
to delicate preparations, which the action of
heat might derange.
The application of these various refined in¬
struments forms a sort of sera in the progress
of philosophical apparatus, and has contributed
to introduce into physico-chemical researches
a precision and delicacy unattempted before.
What seems wanted at present to complete our
knowledge of Heat, is not the vague repe¬
tition of experiments already carefully per¬
formed, but a nice investigation of several un¬
explored properties, directed with scrupulous
accuracy and on a large scale.
The systematic application of Heat has, dur¬
ing the eighteenth century, produced a complete
revolution in the mechanical arts. Air, steam,
and water are often employed as carriers of
Heat, but with very different energies. These
fluids being all raised to the pitch of boiling
water, while a current of air will transmit only
one degree of Heat, a like current of steam will
communicate 12 degrees; but a stream of water
with the same celerity and transverse section
will, from its density and high charge, com¬
municate no less than 2800 degrees of Heat.
The alternate expansion and contraction of
fluids by heating and cooling evolves prodigious
powers. It may be shown that, with the same
expense of Heat, air itself treated in this way
exerts about three times as much force as what
is obtained from the successive formation and
condensation of steam. If such reciprocal
changes were impressed on air as rapidly as on
steam, the application of that medium would
soon supersede the most efficient of all engines.
The expansive force of steam was finely dis¬
played by the JEolipile, an instrument constructed
in the Alexandrian School. After the revival
of science, it had been employed to set in motion
a variety of toys; but no efficient application of
steam was achieved in the seventeenth century.
It seems idle to examine the pretensions of
such projectors as the Marquis of Worcester or
Sir Samuel Morland, who caught at any sha¬
dowy schemes, to retrieve their ruined fortunes.
The person who first considered the proper¬
ties of steam philosophically was Papin, a physi¬
cian born at Blois, who visited England in 1680,
and became curator to the Royal Society. The
Digestor, which he constructed next year, exem¬
plified the enormous elastic force that steam ac¬
quires when heated and confined. As a source
of power he proposed atmospheric pressure,
by forming a vacuum either by the inflam¬
mation of gun-powder or the condensation of
steam. Precluded by the revocation of the
Edict of Nantes from returning to France, he
accepted in 1687 an invitation from the Prince
of Hesse to a chair in the University of Marburg.
There he extended his plans, but found no helps
to carry them into execution. The superior
skill of English artists transferred the palm of
invention. Newcomen, a blacksmith, and Caw¬
ley, a glazier, natives of Dartmouth in Devon¬
shire, by their united studies and labours, pro¬
duced the Atmospheric or Fire Engine in 1705;
but, to prevent opposition, they associated in their
patent a naval officer, Savery, who had a few
years before contrived a very imperfect machine,
which acted however by alternate expansion and
condensation. Accident suggested the injection
of cold water within the steam-vessel, instead of
external affusion. Beighton simplified the mode
of opening and shutting the valves, and improved
the whole system of machinery; and in the
course of half a century, the Fire Engine was
adopted for raising water in all the coal-mines.
At this epoch the genius of Watt, guided by
sound judgment and urged by unremitting ap¬
plication, effected in less than forty years a com¬
plete change in the powers of mechanism. His
steady purpose was to reform the principles of
the steam-engine, and reduce its composition to
mathematical precision. He began with per¬
forming the condensation in a vessel distinct
from the working cylinder; and he next ex¬
cluded atmospheric pressure, and merely em¬
ployed the alternate action of expanding and
contracting steam. But to pursue his career of
invention might demand a separate disquisition.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
655
7. ASTRONOMY.
The varying1 spectacle of the heavenly bodies The progress which Astronomy has made
has attracted the curiosity of mankind since the since the decease of Newton may be referred to
very dawn of civilisation. In the genial regions five separate heads; 1. The investigation of the
of the East, where societies were first collected, figure of the earth, and of the other planets;
the rural inhabitants, accustomed to enjoy the 2. The determination of the anomalies of the
fieshness of the nights in the open fields, con- moon’s motions, and their application to the find-
templated with wonder the sparkling radiance ing of the longitude at sea; 3. The analysis of the
of a pure canopy, remarked the groups of stars, prolonged effects resulting from the mutual dis¬
and learned by degrees to trace their successive turbing influence of the planets; 4. The improved
changes, and to connect these with the periodic theory and observation of comets; and, 5. The
motions of the great luminaries. Ihe rudeness telescopic discoveries of new planets, and the
of such eaily obseivations was compensated by vast expansion of the catalogue of stars,
the numbei of the included revolutions. The oc- 1. Investigation of the Figure of the Earth and of
casion of an eclipse or an occultation served, by the other Planets.—It was easy, by combining the
disclosing the coincidence of different periods, to rotation with the length of the radius of the Earth,
rectify the elements of the planetary movements, to compute that every body at the equator must
Astionomy has giown up by a slow accumula- lose the 289th part of its weight, from the ac¬
tion of facts, continued through a long tract of tion of centrifugal force, which, being propor-
ages. It had acquired considerable accuracy in tional to the distance from the centre, will
piactice, before it received any tolerable lights exert only half such influence over the whole
fiom theoiy. But the art of observing has in mass; and therefore supposing this to be homo¬
modern times acquired amazing precision, from geneous, and assuming with Huygens that gra-
the veiy improved construction of instruments, vitation is all directed to a central point, and
and the extended methods of calculation. The equal at every distance, it thence followed that
register of a single year may now furnish more our planet is an oblate spheroid, of which the
complete data than the aggregate observations Equatorial is to the Polar diameter as 578 to
of a whole century in remote ages. 577. But Newton had already explored the
The great cultivators of astronomy are divid- question with consummate penetration ; and,
ed into two classes,—accurate and inventive oh- setting out from the great principle of an attrac-
servers,—and profound and original theorists, tion subsisting among all the particles of matter,
Of those illustrious men who, in the lapse of had, on the hypothesis of homogeneous fluidity,
three thousand years, have devoted their labours shown that the equatorial column has its pres¬
to so noble a purpose, we may distinguish a sure at the centre diminished by the elliptical
few that have stood pre-eminently above their defect of the sphere, while the action of the per-
compeers;—as observers, Hipparchus, Ptolemy, pendicular column is augmented from the op-
Tycho Brahe, Hevelius, Cassini, Flamsteed, posite cause; and thus a greater inequality than
LaCaille, Bradley, Maskelyne, andPiazzi;—and the mere influence of centrifugal force becomes
as theorists, Copernicus, Kepler, Newton, and requisite to produce equilibrium, assigning 230
after some interval Clairaut, D’Alembert, and to 229 as the ratio of the diameter to the axis.
Euler, and in our own times the associated names This solution, however, was merely tentative,
of Lagrange and Laplace. Astronomy is not the imperfection of the calculus being compen-
only the sublimest of all the sciences, but has at sated by a refined sagacity, which noted only the
last reached the highest pitch of perfection, and leading steps.
constitutes by far the grandest monument of hu- The explication of the System of the World
man assiduity and genius. from the Theory of Attraction, embraced with
656
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
indolent acquiescence by the countrymen of
Newton, was either opposed or viewed merely
as an ingenious speculation by most of the
philosophers on the Continent.1 * * * But a contro¬
versy now arose, which brought the accuracy of
these principles to the test of observation, and
secured their final triumph. It is evident that
the length of a degree of the meridian must be
proportional to the distance of the centre of mu¬
tual concurrence of the plummets from its extre¬
mities, or to the radius of external curvature.
In the case of an oblate spheroid, therefore,
those degrees would regularly enlarge from the
equator to the pole. But the Trigonometrical
Mensuration of France, begun by Picard in
1675, and completed in 1716 by Cassini, form¬
ing the most extensive survey yet attempted,
was found leading to an opposite conclusion in
the meridional arc, the degrees on the north of
Paris, instead of lengthening, appearing to con¬
tract about a 430th part below those on the south,
which would indicate an oblong figure, having
its perpendicular diameters as 96 to 95. This
perplexing result served to keep alive for some
time longer the controversy on the Continent
between the followers of Descartes and the grow¬
ing partisans of the Newtonian Philosophy. In
the meanwhile, a clock made by the famous
Graham, and carried out to Jamaica in 1732 by
Colin Campbell, was ascertained by astronomical
observations at Black-river, in the latitude of 18°,
allowing for the influence of heat on the pendu¬
lum, to go 1' 58" slower every day than in Lon¬
don. This quantity of variation Bradley found
to exceed what would suit the figure calculat¬
ed by Newton, and he was therefore disposed to
attribute the effects to some diminution of density
in the equatorial regions. James Stirling compris¬
ed the attractions of homogeneous spheroids un¬
der two beautiful theorems, which were publish¬
ed, though without demonstrations, in the Philo¬
sophical Transactions for 1735. About the same
time Bouguer noticed some restrictions essential
to the rigorous solution of the problem; but
now Maclaurin took a most commanding view
of the subject, and produced, first in his famous
Dissertation on the Tides, and again more fully in
his Treatise of Fluxions, printed in 1742, a geo¬
metrical investigation, distinguished by its ori¬
ginality, clearness, and superior elegance. This
illustrious mathematician established, from the
law of gravitation, the stability of a fluid sphe¬
roid revolving about its axis in a certain time,
proved that every point within the mass would
be pressed equally on all sides, and showed that
even the superadded attractions of the sun and
moon could not disturb the internal equilibrium
of our Earth. The conclusions applied likewise
to the other planets, and embraced the theory
of the tides. But his profound investigation like¬
wise disclosed several general theorems, which
have greatly simplified and extended the science
of Hydrodynamics.
The most refined theory, thus confirming the
Newtonian figure of the Earth, again recalled
the attention of philosophers to the actual sur¬
vey of its surface. The French triangulation
being resumed in 1740, an error was detected
in the measurement of the base, and another
not less considerable in the observation of the
meridional arc; but to rectify the various de¬
tails required the labour of several years, nor
did the work terminate before 1754. In the
extent of above eight degrees, their lengths ap¬
peared regularly to increase, from Perpignan to
Dunkirk, by about the 1730th part; marking
evidently the oblateness of the spheroid.
But it was most desirable to resolve the ques¬
tion on a larger scale; and the Academy of Paris,
urged in 1733 by Condamine to send a party to
measure a degree under the Equator, adopted
his project with zeal, and fortunately obtained
the sanction of government. After all the pre¬
parations were made, the Academicians, Con-
1 In a letter written from Basle on the 22d November 1729 by Nicholas Bernoulli, to his friend James Stirling at Lon¬
don, with whom he had become acquainted several years before, when the former was professor at 1 adua, and the latter a
teacher of Mathematics in Venice, he confesses, with regard to Machin’s attempt to illustrate the Lunar 1 heory, that he naa
not vet taken the trouble to read the third book of the Principin. Pauca quidem in eo intclligo, quia nullam adhuc operam
coUocavi in lectxone tertii libri Prmcipiortim D. Neivtoni- Stirling, in his answer, dated in September 17-10, ’ y S’
that “ it is somewhat strange, that though the Principles have been published above 40 years, nobody has read further than
the two first books, although they be barely speculations, and were written for no other reason but that the third might be un-
derstood.” (From a collection of Stirling's papers in the possession of Mr Irving, one of the Judges of the Couit o e
sion, under the title of Lord Newton.)
1
DISSERTATION FOURTH. 657
damine, Bouguer, and Godin, in May 1735 sailed
from Rochelle to Peru, where they joined Juan
and Ulloa, two naval officers deputed by the
king of Spain. The whole company assembled
in the month of June in the following year at
Quito, almost under the Equator, and arranged
their plan of operations. They chose a valley
of the Cordilleras running above 200 miles south¬
wards from that city, and inclosed on both sides
by the loftiest ranges of the Andes. Divided
into two troops, they carried a series of triangles
along the flanks and summits of those stupen¬
dous mountains covered with eternal snows, and
connected the reticulation with the base mea¬
sured below. In pursuing their laborious task,
the observers had to encounter the greatest dif¬
ficulties, and to suffer privations of every kind,
owing to the severity of the climate and the
total want of accommodation, joined to the con¬
tinual impediments occasioned by the supersti¬
tion of the natives and the pilfering habits of
the Indians. But resolution and perseverance
at length overcame the multiplied obstacles,
though no fewer than eight years were consum¬
ed in completing with elaborate care and accu¬
racy the different operations undertaken. Con-
damine was a man of an ardent and active mind,
and persuasive address ; Godin, an excellent ob¬
server; but Bouguer combined the character of
a deep and original thinker, with the talent of
invention, unwearied application, and an ex¬
tended acquaintance in the various pursuits of
philosophy and science. The Academicians were
ably assisted by their Spanish associates, though
each performed separately his own calculations.
It was reserved, however, for Bouguer to give
the complete narrative of all the various opera¬
tions, in his Treatise on the Figure of the Earth,
not published till 1749, but one of the most va¬
luable scientific works that has ever appeared.
Besides amply discussing the principal question,
it investigated incidentally the effects of local at¬
traction on the plummet, the length of the pen¬
dulum, the theory of refractions, the rules of
barometrical measurements, the limits of perpe¬
tual congelation, the intensity of the solar rays
at different elevations, and the celerity of sound
as affected by heat. He concluded that the Earth
DISS. IV.
is not only an oblate spheroid, but so consider¬
ably flattened as to have its equatorial diameter to
its axis in the ratio of 179 to 178 ; and he thence
inferred that the central parts must be four or
five times denser than the superficial crust.
In the mean time, it being foreseen that the
mensuration of a degree in Peru would be ne¬
cessarily retarded, the celebrated Maupertuis, a
person of agreeable attainments, though not
very profound in science, prevailed with the
French minister Maurepas to dispatch another
company, which he reluctantly consented to
lead, for a similar purpose to the Arctic Circle.
His associates were Monnier, Camus, Outhier,
and Clairaut, already distinguished by the pre¬
cocity of his fine mathematical genius. They
arrived at Stockholm in June 1736, and were
joined by Celsius, the professor of astronomy at
Upsal, who had brought from London Graham’s
zenith sector and transit instruments. Having
settled their general plan, they proceeded to the
bottom of the Gulf of Bothnia, and selected
Tornea for the principal station. From that
small capital they stretched a chain of triangles
along the wooded heights to the top of Kittis, a
distance however not exceeding 60 miles. Work¬
ing with great spirit and activity, and having
no difficulties to encounter but the severity of
the climate, they observed the angles from the
several stations during the remainder of the
summer, determined the celestial arc in autumn,
and measured the base along the frozen surface
of the river Muonio in the early part of winter.
The length of a degree of latitude at the Arctic
Circle was found to be 57,419 toises, or 349
toises longer than the corresponding measure at
Paris, which gave the ratio of 178 to 177 for
that of the Equatorial and Polar diameters, al¬
most the same as the result of the more exten¬
sive operations afterwards in Peru. Maupertuis,
having with such expedition ascertained the ob¬
lateness of the Earth, and assigned a depression
still greater than had been computed by Newton,
returned triumphant to Paris in the spring of
1737. But this arctic triangulation, betraying
evident marks of haste, became suspected after¬
wards of inaccuracy; and, at the suggestion of
Melanderhjelm, the Swedish academy, about the
4 o
658
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
beginning of the present century, sent Svan-
berg, with proper assistants, to resume the ope¬
rations, who not only rectified the former obser¬
vations, but carried the mensuration about 40
miles farther north.
It was then determined that the length of a
degree in Lapland is only 57,209 toises, which,
compared with Cassini’s corrected measure in
France, reduces the oblateness to the 290th part
of the Earth’s axis. But a more accurate result
is obtained from the comparison of the distant
observations made under the Equator and at the
Arctic Circle, the perpendicular diameters of the
terrestrial spheroid being in the ratio of 302 to
301. Still greater nicety has been attempted
by Littrow, who, on re-computing the degree in
Lapland, x-educed it to 57,168 toises, which gives
an oblateness of only —.
J 312
Other determinations of a degree of latitude
have been made at different parts of the Earth’s
surface, the most remarkable of which may be
noticed. La Caille, one of the best observers,
and the most accurate and laborious of astro¬
nomers, rectified the French triangulation du¬
ring the years 1739 and 1740; nor did the ex¬
treme severity of that memorable winter prevent
his carrymg forward these operations over the
lofty mountains of Auvergne. He proved decid¬
edly that the degrees of the meridian regularly
increase from the south to the north of France.
Some years afterwards he went to the Cape of
Good Hope, chiefly for the purpose of framing
a catalogue of the stars of the Southern Constel¬
lations ; but his ardour and extreme activity en¬
abled him to accumulate other valuable celes¬
tial observations. Having performed the task
he had proposed, and the ship not arriving to
carry him home, La Caille was tempted to em¬
ploy the time thus afforded in measuring by
his single exertions a degree of latitude. Tins
he found, on the parallel of 34°, to be 57,037
toises, and therefore of the same length with a
degree as far north as 49° in France; which
seems to indicate not only a flatter outline, but a
difference of internal constitution in the southern
hemisphere. The accuracy of the measurement
itself, however, has been strongly suspected.
In 1750 and the two following years, Bosco-
vich and his associate La Maire measured an arc
of two degrees in the Papal States, and fixed the
length on the parallel of 43° at 56,979. Beccaria
traced a single degree in Piedmont, and found
the opposite attractions of the lofty sides of the
Alps had such influence in deflecting the plum¬
met, as to render the northern half of the mea¬
sure a 69th part longer than the southern.
After a pause of near forty years, the mensu¬
ration of the Earth was revived with increasing
ardour and on a grander scale. The object first
contemplated was merely to settle the difference
of longitude between the obseiwatories of Green¬
wich and Paris, by connecting them with a se¬
ries of triangles. General Roy directed the
English survey in 1784, while similar operations
were conducted by Cassini in France. The Re¬
volution soon followed, and prepared the public
mind for the reception of every bold project. It
was now proposed to adopt a universal and
permanent system of weights and measures
drawn from nature, the unit of linear extent
being the thousandth part of a centesimal minute,
or the ten millionth part of the quadrantal arc
from the Pole to the Equator. To obtain this
standard, it had been resolved to carry a chain
of triangles over the whole extent, from Dunkirk
to Barcelona; which was performed during the
most eventful period of general excitement and
commotion, by the profound sagacity, persever¬
ance, and undaunted zeal of Delambre,1 joined to
1 Born at Amiens on the 19th September 1749. Being designed for the church, he studied the ancient languages in the
Gymnasium of his native city, first under the Jesuits, and afterwards under the tuition of the poet Delille, to whom he became
warmly attached. At a ripe age, he was invited to the study of astronomy by Lalande, and soon adopted as his favourite
pupil. In 1785 he began the vast series of his scientific labours, which occupied the rest of a long life. Without aiming
at originality, Delambre produced very complete and valuable works, pursued his immense calculations with scrupulous
nicety and incessant application, and distinguished himself as a most accurate, skilful, and indefatigable observer. He
sought precision merely, and was rather indifferent about the elegance of his formulae or composition. Yet he was an ex¬
cellent Greek scholar, well acquainted with the principal modern languages, and indeed a man of general erudition. Of an
amiable disposition, with fixed principles of integrity joined to simple habits, he passed through all the storms of the He-
volution with a blameless character. He obtained his full share of the honours and distinction which France so liberally
bestows on those eminent in science, and died universally regretted, on the 19th of August 1822.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
659
Mechain.1 After completing this operation, they
measured a base of seven miles in length near Paris,
and another of verification, somewhat shorter,
on the road from Perpignan to Narhonne. The
register of all the observations was in the spring
of 1799 submitted to a sort of congress of scien¬
tific men assembled in the French capital, who
having examined and repeated the various calcu¬
lations, and compared the celestial arc with the
mensuration in Peru, adopted the 334th for the
oblateness of the earth, and determined the dis¬
tance of the pole from the equator to be 5,130,740
toises.
Mechain, anxious however to extend the me¬
ridian as far as the Balearic Isles, again repaired
to Spain, and conducted a series of triangles over
the savage heights from Barcelona to Tortosa,
when, exhausted by incessant fatigues, he caught
an epidemic fever, which proved fatal in Septem¬
ber 1805. The operations were continued by
his young but very able successors, Biot and
Arago, who terminated the meridional arc at the
isle of Formentera in 1807. This extension of
the chain scarcely altered in the slightest man¬
ner the former conclusion.
The English survey, being designed merely
for the construction of an accurate set of maps,
suffered some interruption by the death of Gene¬
ral Roy, but was resumed with spirit in 1793,
under the skilful direction of Colonel Mudge,
who carried the triangulation as far as the nortn
of Scotland; and since his decease in 1820, the
work has been transferred to Ireland by his per¬
severing assistant and successor Colonel Colby.
The method of observing is now improved, and
all the refinements of modern art have been ex¬
hausted in the mensuration of a new base.
Those operations have no doubt proceeded
very slowly, and yet the results of the first series
were perplexing, the three degrees measured
from Dunnose to Clifton successively contract¬
ing instead of lengthening, and therefore indicat¬
ing, like the earlier observations of Cassini, an
oblong figure of the Earth. The whole arc agrees
exactly with the last triangulation of France, in
giving an oblateness of only the 334th part; but
whether the intermediate discrepancies should be
imputed to an error of azimuth, or to the pro¬
bable derangement from local attraction, still
remains undecided.
In 1802 and 1803 Colonel Lambton measured
a degree of the meridian in the East Indies, and
found, at the latitudes of 9° 35', 12° 3', and 16° 35',
the lengths to rise successively to 60,477, 60,490,
and 60,512 fathoms. Hence Delambre deduced
the oblateness of the terrestrial spheroid to be the
206th part. But Rodriguez, an able Spanish ma¬
thematician, who had already criticised the obser¬
vations of Mudge, detected various mistakes in
Lambton’s calculations, which being rectified,
reduced the depression of the Earth to the 320th
part.
Since the spheroidal figure of our planet is
evidently subject to great irregularities, we arc
led to inquire, whether it be a solid of revolution
and have true circles for its parallels of latitude.
Cassini and Maraldi seem to have been the first
to solve this interesting question. They found,
in 1734 and 1735, a degree of longitude at Paris
and at Strasburg to be 36,676 and 37,745 toises,
1 Bom at Laon 16th August 1744, the son of an unprosperous architect, who could hardly educate him in the same pro¬
fession. The youth supported hims^ If, and even aided his father, by teaching mathematics, and made such proficiency in
astronomy as to attract the notice of Lalande, by whose warm and active patronage he soon obtained the office of hydro-
grapher to the Marine at Versailles. Though he had not the talent of invention, he became an expert, patient, and correct
calculator. He was, besides, a very nice and accurate observer, and applied himself particularly to the search of comets, and
the computation of their orbits. In 1784 he was joined to the commission for adjusting the difference of longitude between
the observatories of Paris and Greenwich; and when the Constituent Assembly had resolved to adopt a grand metrical system
founded on the length of the meridional arc, he was appointed to measure the southern portion of it from Barcelona to Eodez.
He conducted his operations with great celerity and success ; but, inspecting a new engine constructed by a friend at Barce¬
lona, he met with a dreadful accident, which had well nigh proved fatal. After a slow convalescence he resumed his labours;
but every thing now combined to dishearten him,—the war with Spain, the ravages of the yellow fever, and the news of the
reign of terror in France. After moderation had revived, Mechain with much reluctance was prevailed on to come to Paris ;
but strongly pressed the expediency of extending the measurement two degrees farther into Spain, and insisted on carrying on
that work himself. This pertinacity was not explained till after his death, when it appeared that he had concealed a discrepancy
occurring in the rectification of his observations, which, without acknowledging the error, he no doubt hoped to remove by
subsequent operations. After experiencing many difficulties, he vigorously renewed his labours in Valencia ; but his mind
was depressed by anxiety for his reputation, and alarms at the spread of contagious disease. This mental prostration
favoured its attack, and he expired of yellow fever in his retreat at CasteUon de la Plana, on the 20th September 1805.
G60
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
and therefore considerably less than what belongs
to a perfect sphere. But the most accurate ob¬
servation of this kind was made by La Caille in
1740, from the top of a hill near Aix, to a signal
on a high tower above the Rhone, about 96 miles
remote, where he caused ten pounds of gunpowder
to be fired, and found by the instantaneous blaze
the difference of time between the two meridians,
and then measured trigonometrically along the
plain of Arles the intermediate distance, which
gave 41,358 toises for a degree of longitude, or
260 toises less than a globular form would re¬
quire. Lambton estimated the degree of longi¬
tude on the parallel of 12° 32' to be 61,061
fathoms, or 57,294 toises; but his observations
and calculations seem not entitled to much con¬
fidence. The latest and most accurate measure¬
ment of a perpendicular to the meridian was
performed in 1823, near Geneva, by Colonel
Brousseaud, of the French engineers, in connexion
with the late ingenious Professor Pictet, while
the skilful astronomers Plana and Carlini com¬
pleted a similar operation on the plains of Italy as
far as Padua. The first, being compared with the
arc from Greenwich to Formentera, gave a 271st
part for the oblateness of the Earth; but, when
conjoined with the Italian prolongation, it redu¬
ced the quantity of depression to a 292d part of the
equatorial diameter. It must be confessed, how¬
ever, that the accuracy of these conclusions has
been contested by some of the ablest calculators.
From a skilful combination of the five prin¬
cipal measurements, in Peru, India, France,
England, and Lapland, Mr Ivory has, by the
method of the least squares, deduced for the
1 309
oblateness of the Earth, and shown that the
corresponding elliptical meridian agrees with
the best observations. The result would have
been still more satisfactory, had the English
survey comprised the whole extent of the island.
But a very small portion of the arc is comput¬
ed, and the fruits of twenty years’ expensive
operations are not yet communicated to the
public. Meanwhile, other surveys, conducted
after the most scientific manner, are now far ad¬
vanced ; in Lower Saxony by Gauss, in Holstein
by Schumacher, in Swabia by Bohnenberger,
and in Russia and Finland by Struve. These
continental observations must throw much light
on the form and constitution of our planet.
Local attraction may deflect the plummet from
its vertical position, but it can have little effect
on its general gravitation. The vibration of a
pendulum, therefore, promises a readier and
surer method of discovering the figure of the
Earth. The difficulty is to ascertain the length
with extreme precision, or the distance between
the point of suspension and the centre of oscilla¬
tion. The pendulum constructed by Borda
seemed to require little correction. It consisted
of a slender iron wire about 13 feet long, termi¬
nated by a small cap of copper, to which was
nicely fitted a ball of platinum about an inch
and half in diameter. The vibrations were per¬
formed in two seconds and continued for twelve
hours, the number being reckoned from the dis¬
tant coincidences with the pendulum of an astro¬
nomical clock. Mathieu has computed, from six
observations made with this instrument along
the meridian from Dunkirk to Formentera, the
depression of the terrestrial spheroid to be
—^— But from a general comparison of all
the various measures over the surface of the
Earth, Laplace reckoned this quantity only
 ?—. It has been alleged, indeed, that the
335-78 5
illustrious author had committed a mistake in the
taking out of a logarithm, which being corrected
would give —
319
The Convertible Pendulum constructed by Cap¬
tain Kater, on the beautiful principle first de¬
monstrated by Huygens, that the point of sus¬
pension and the centre of oscillation are inter¬
changeable, seemed to promise greater accuracy,
and was proposed by the inventor as furnishing
an invariable standard of linear measure. So
sanguine were his expectations, indeed, that he
believed it could not occasion an error of the
400,000th part of thewhole. But the observations
which he made with this pendulum, at different
points in an arc of ten degrees extending to Shet¬
land, display no such harmony, for the resulting
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
661
oblateness of the Earth varies from the extremes,
between —^— and ——. It has been custom-
397-5 229-6
ary to attribute the discrepancies to the influence
of local attraction, but they are frequently too
considerable for the most exaggerated hypothesis
to explain, and must be referred either to the
inaccuracy of the observer or to the imperfection
of the instrument employed. Calculators, in
their endeavours to harmonize such observations,
can seldom proceed dispassionately ; they are apt
to modify some of the data, and arbitrarily to re¬
ject others as anomalous or liable to suspicion.
Parry’s experiments with the convertible pen¬
dulum at London and Melville Island gave an
oblateness of —. The numerous observations
312-6
made by Freycinet and Duperrey, in their voyages
of discovery, indicated, for both the northern
and southern hemispheres, a depression between
JL and-—. Captain Sabine concluded, from his
280 282 1
own combined observations, that the quantity is
—1— But Mr Ivory, whose decision is entitled
288-4 J
to the greatest confidence, has, from a critical
examination of those data, concluded the ellip-
ticity to be : and found the same figure to
agree both with the measures along the meridian
and those perpendicular to it. To arrive at so
satisfactory a result, however, it was necessary
to exclude nearly one-sixth of all the observa¬
tions, those made near the equator being the
most discordant. Such aberrations leave con¬
siderable distrust, which is not removed by in¬
specting the later observations. But it were idle
to affect extreme precision, where the discre¬
pancy amounts sometimes to a six thousandth
part. The convertible pendulum appears liable
to different sources of error, and though it may
furnish an approximation to the determination
of the terrestrial spheroid, it can hardly be ex¬
pected to reach the accuracy and certainty re¬
quisite for a metrical standard.
We maynowrevert to the analytical investiga¬
tion of the figure of the Earth. Clairaut had given
the elements of the solution previous to his set¬
ting out on the expedition to the Polar Circle,
But after his return from that memorable achieve¬
ment, he resumed the disquisition; and adopting
the geometrical discoveries of Maclaurin, he pro¬
duced the completest analysis of the problem, in
his very ingenious work which came out in 1743.
He determined the equilibrium of a revolving
spheroid, when composed of concentric layers
of different densities, assuming the deviation
from the spherical figure to be very small.
Clairaut showed that the particles of the same
density must always range in distinct strata,
to which the resulting force that urges them is
perpendicular ; and found the general equations,
simplified afterwards by Euler, for assigning the
stability of the fluid mass. But it was not until
1784 that Legendre gave a direct analytical so¬
lution of the problem, in the case of a homogene¬
ous spheroid approaching nearly to a sphere,
which required the single condition that gravity
shouldact perpendicularly at the surface. Laplace
afterwards simplified and completed this investi¬
gation, by extending it to elliptical strata of dif¬
ferent densities. The solution, however, was not
rigorous, and merely exhibited an approximation,
by leaving out the cubes and higher powers of
the series. The numerical results yet vacillate
between the proportions announced by Huygens
and Newton. It is indeed remarkable, that a sub¬
ject which has exercised the efforts of sublime
genius, should have yet derived so little real
elucidation from the stores of the higher calcu¬
lus. The theorems of Maclaurin still far trans¬
cend the most elaborate displays of analytical
research. But his illustrious countryman Ivory,
undismayed by such formidable difficulties, has
lately revived the discussion, and, examining
more narrowly the physical conditions of the
problem, and thus restricting the differential
equations, he has with felicitous address suc¬
ceeded in conducting his analytical procedure to
a definite result. Britain has therefore the
honour both of originating the discovery of the
true figure of the Earth, and of completing its
demonstration.
But the Earth’s oblate shape is likewise de-
ducible from certain small mutations in the orbit
of the moon. The attraction exerted by our satel¬
lite on the protuberant matter at the Equator occa-
602
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
sions the Nutation of the terrestrial axis; and this
action being reciprocal, the moon suffers a corre¬
sponding alteration both in latitude and longi¬
tude. Such is the wonderful precision attained
in astronomical observations, that Burg, one of
the most expert calculators in our day, computed
at the request of Laplace, from very numerous
data, the ellipticity of the Earth to be respective¬
ly and . The motions of the lunar
J 304-6 305
nodes and perigee have been shown by the same
profound philosopher to indicate a similar con¬
clusion. The form of the Earth is hence flatter
than that of a homogeneous spheroid; and this
difference appears to arise from the increasing
density of the internal mass caused by superin¬
cumbent pressure. A like character belongs to
Jupiter, the largest planet in our system; for his
axes, which, from the combined action of gravity
and centrifugal force, should have the ratio of 41
to 36, are observed to be only as 14 to 13, or
41 to 38, thus evincing the great compression
of the internal mass.
The discussions relating to the figure of the
Earth led to an examination of the Theory of the
Tides., the great outlines of which had been
likewise traced by Newton from the Law of
Gravitation. The Academy of Sciences at Paris
selected the complete investigation of this difficult
subject for the prize offered in 1740; and never
did three more illustrious competitors contend
for the honour of an award, which was shared
among Maclaurin, Euler, and Daniel Bernoulli.
The dissertation of our countryman, as already
observed, was pre-eminently distinguished by the
new and beautiful propositions which it contained.
Supposing the Earth were at rest and covered with
a shell of water, any remote body, attracting the
anterior surface with greater force than the lateral
mass, and this again with greater force than the
posterior surface, would evidently cause the fluid
to rise on the opposite sides and form a prolate
spheroid, having its longer axis directed to the
disturbing agent. But this influence was proved
by Newton to be inversely as the cube of the
distance. Though the sun has above twenty
million times more matter than the moon, yet
being four hundred times more remote, he there¬
fore exerts three times less influence in raising
the tides. While the ocean swells out both
under and opposite to the sun, it turns another
trebly more protuberant spheroid towards the
moon. These elevations, differently combined,
produce the variable heaving of the waters which
constitutes the general tide. The conditions of
equilibrium are easily determined; but it is a
most arduous research to distinguish the several
effects of the rotation of the earth and the re¬
volution of the moon, in retarding and modify¬
ing the oscillations of the irregular aqueous ex¬
panse. Such was the problem which so long
exercised the genius and penetration of Laplace.
He began the consideration of this intricate sub¬
ject in 1774, and resumed his investigation re¬
peatedly afterwards. Having obtained a gene¬
ral expression for the oscillations of the ocean,
he distinguished these into three separate swells,
obeying different periods of succession. The
tides of the first class depend on the motions of
the sun and moon, the variations of the dis¬
tances, and the change of their declinations.
The stream tide occurs at the interval of a day
and a half after the conjunction or opposition,
the lunar swell at first preceding the solar, but
falling back at the next two returns, till at the
third accession it combines with the latter. The
decrease of consecutive tides is about a third
faster at the conjunctions which happen in the
equinox than at those in the solstice, and nearly
twice as rapid at the quadratures that occur in
the equinox as at those in the solstice. Similar
consequences result from the alterations in the
right ascension and the declination of the sun
and moon. All these conclusions of a refined
theory are singularly confirmed by a critical and
very laborious examination of the observations
made for a series of years at the port of Brest.
The second sort of oscillations is occasioned by
the diurnal change of the elevation and depres¬
sion of the sun; so that in midsummer, when
the declination is greater, the stream tide at
Brest rises seven inches higher in the morning
than the following tide towards evening. This
divaricating tide has no visible influence however
on our shores; and to explain the equal swell of
the waters during the day and the night, Laplace
refers it to the retardation from a current of a
certain uniform depth, which he estimated at
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
663
four leagues, or eleven English miles, but has
since greatly reduced it, without venturing to as¬
sign the true measure.1 The third kind of tides,
depending on the greater revolutions of the
moon, have much longer periods; hut their in¬
fluence, however small, is traced through the
observations. The immense calculations of
Bouvard have detected every varying phasis of
the law of Universal Attraction; but a closer
approximation is still wanted to unfold sepa¬
rately all the terms of the disturbing forces.
Some of the minute shades are indicated by a
fine application of the Doctrine of Chances, and
a similar process renders highly probable the ex¬
istence of corresponding fluctuations in the mass
of our atmosphere.
2. Mathematicians were at length prepared
for investigating dispassionately the application
of the great principle of attraction to all the va¬
rious motions of the heavenly bodies. It had ex¬
plained with beautiful simplicity the revolutions
of the planets about the Sun, and of the satel¬
lites around their primaries. But to distinguish
its operation in the anomalies of the general sys¬
tem was a most arduous undertaking. Astro¬
nomers indeed had already, from a diligent and
skilful comparison of distant eclipses, detected
the principal irregularities of the Lunar Motions.
Hipparchus and Ptolemy discovered what are
called The Equation of the Centre and the Evec-
tion; and after an interval of fourteen centuries,
Tycho and Kepler added the Variation and An¬
nual Equation. Newton not only expounded all
these anomalies by the simple law of gravitation,
but, probably without any helps from observa¬
tion, discovered six more auxiliary equations.
The Theory of the Moon, which crowns his im¬
mortal Principia, is a production of genius, sa¬
gacity, and invention, almost superhuman. He
ascends with admirable order from the easier to
the more difficult problems, reducing them al¬
ways to greater simplicity; he pursues his ap¬
proximations with consummate address, and
seldom passing the clear bounds of geometry,
or entangling his demonstrations in the laby¬
rinth of Algebraical formulce, he advances with
elegance and apparently without effort to the
disclosure of the most recondite truths. But it
must be confessed that, in his eagle flight, he
was satisfied with taking a general glance of the
objects, and seldom stooped to mark the details
or investigate the grounds of his calculations.
He no doubt managed the research by estimat¬
ing the different elements of perturbation, and
supplying, as in other cases, the deficiency of
the analytical process by a selection of circum¬
stances, and the nice balancing of errors. The
illustrious author himself candidly admitted the
imperfection of his Lunar Theory; but what
seems truly astonishing is, that in such a novel
and arduous attempt he should have been guilty
of so very few mistakes or omissions. The Eng¬
lish commentators contributed very little to its
extension and improvement. Machin, profes¬
sor of Astronomy in Gresham College, secre¬
tary of the Royal Society, and esteemed an ex¬
pert calculator, speaks of it with flippancy, and
seeks only to annex a vague hypothesis, which
leads to an arbitrary geometrical construction ;
“ especially,” says he, “since the greatest part of
the Theory of the Moon is laid down without any
proof, and since those propositions relating to the
Moon’s motion which are demonstrated in the
Principia do generally depend upon calculations
very intricate and abstruse, the truth of which
is not easily examined, even by those that are
most skilful; and which, however, might he easily
deduced from other principles and hints of cal¬
culations which he has not produced.”2 He ad¬
mits, indeed, that Theory gives only half the
motion of the Lunar Apogee.
The first who improved and expanded the
Newtonian Theory of the Moon was Calandrini,
professor of Mathematics at GeneAra, who super¬
intended the printing of the Jesuits’ edition of
the Principia m 1789 and 1742. He investigat¬
ed by a direct method the principal lunar equa-
1 In the last edition of the Mecanique Celeste he seems to have silently abandoned his calculation altogether, contenting
himself with adopting the conjecture of the geographer Varenius, that the depth of the sea must bear some proportion to
the altitude of the shore.
2 The Laws of the Moon's Motion according to Gravity, a very short tract appended to Motte’s Translation of the Principia
which came out in 1729.
664
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
tions, and likewise the smaller inequalities
which Newton had left undemonstrated. He
revised the investigation of the motion of the
apsides, but was mortified to find his calcula¬
tions gave only half the quantity derived from
observation. The honour of confirming the
Newtonian Theory of the Moon was reserved,
however, for our own countrymen. Dr Stewart,
the successor of Maclaurin in the University
of Edinburgh, discovered the true motion of
the line of apsides by a simple and beautiful
geometrical procedure, in which his inventive
penetration happily supplied the flexibility of
the modern calculus. About the same time
Walmesley,1 an English Benedictine Monk,
who afterwards attained the rank of Catholic
Bishop and Apostolic Vicar, but bad been com¬
pelled by religious and political bigotry to reap
the advantages of a foreign education, produced
in 1749, at the early age of 27, a correct analy¬
tical investigation of the motion of the Lunar
Apogee, which he extended and completed in
1758.
In the meanwhile, the profoundest mathema¬
ticians were directed to the right points of at¬
tack, and incited to exert all their penetration
in exploring the influence of the System of Gra¬
vitation, by the prizes proposed by the learned
associations on the Continent. Clairaut began
his examination of the Lunar Theory in 1743.
At first he was content with merely studying
the Newtonian procedure, and converting it
into analytical expressions; but as he became
more familiar with the subject, he pushed his
investigation further, and in 1747 comprised all
the subordinate motions of the Moon under the
famous general problem of the Three Bodies.
But, after a prodigious exertion of ingenuity
and perseverance, it was mortifying to find his
solution assign for the variation of the Lunar
Apogee only half the measure established by
observation. Euler and D’Alembert, nearly
about the same time, arrived at a similar con¬
clusion. The followers of Newton were sur¬
prised and mortified at the result, while the ad¬
herents of the Cartesian system already began
to exult in the prospect of the immediate fall of
such a towering rival. In this dilemma, Clairaut,
to reconcile the result of analysis with the actual
phrenomena, proposed, without abandoning the
great principle of attraction, to modify its 1’ecipro-
cal gradation of intensity, by annexing to the
square of the distance a small subsidiary term de¬
pending on its cube. This correction might be
sufficient, from the proximity to the earth, for
adjusting the Lunar motions, while it could have
no sensible influence, he conceived, in affecting
that duplicate ratio which directs the remote
revolutions of the planets about the sun. But
Buffon, who began his career with the study of
mathematics, showed, from the properties of the
roots of equations, that such a modification of
the law of gravity involved what appeared an ab¬
surd consequence, that a body would be attract¬
ed equally at different distances. Clairaut was
not shaken by this argument, which he con¬
sidered as only metaphysical; yet so much
discussion had been provoked, that, anxious
to remove all doubts from the subject, he re¬
sumed his investigation, and pursued it with
incredible labour and resolution. Carrying the
approximation much farther, by computing the
values of the higher terms of the series, and
reiterating the process, he found the combined
integrals to give exactly the double of the former
result. This satisfactory conclusion, which con¬
firmed the simple law of gravity, and restored
the harmony of the universal system, was an¬
nounced early in 1749. The bare mention of
the fact was enough for the inventive powers of
Euler, who, by quite a different procedure, soon
obtained the true variation of the Lunar Apogee.
If D’Alembert needed some previous information
to put him in the right train, he pushed his cal¬
culations to wider extent, and approached still
nearer the absolute effect. It would seem that,
during this eager competition, the advances of
Stewart and Walmesley were overlooked. But
their countryman Thomas Simpson ventured,
though considerably in the rear, to travel partly
over the same ground of inquiry.
This remarkable coincidence among the first
1 Dr Charles Walmesley, horn in 1722. In his latter years he resided at Bath, and took to the study of mystic theo¬
logy, having written on the Revelations, and explained the Vision of Ezekiel. His papers were burnt by an antipopish
mob in 1780, and he died in 1797-
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
665
mathematicians of the age extinguished for ever
any lurking suspicion of the Law of Universal
Attraction. The great object of scientific re¬
search was henceforth to direct its application
to the celestial motions and the improvement of
practical astronomy. The rectification of the
Lunar Tables, now become of such importance
in the practice of navigation, was the fruit of
those arduous calculations. Clairaut bestowed
intense application, and digested his results into
a clear form; he skilfully employed some data
furnished to him by La Caille for adjusting the
auxiliary equations, and thus produced Tables
of the Moon’s motions distinguished by their
very superior accuracy. D’Alembert proceeded
more slowly and neglected such aids, so that his
Lunar Tables never obtained estimation with
astronomers. Euler excelled both his illustrious
rivals in the wonderful command of the powers
of calculation ; he worked with ease and rapidi¬
ty, and his fertile invention continually supplied
new resources and suggested other paths of ad¬
vance. He suspended for a few months the
further improvement of the Lunar Theory, and
at the invitation of the Academy of Sciences at
Paris, analyzed with all the fulness of research
the influence of the mutual disturbance of the
planets Jupiter and Saturn. But aiming at still
higher perfection, after the interval of a few
years he resumed this investigation, simplifying
and greatly extending it. In the mean time he
had computed a set of Lunar Tables, which he
disposed in a clear method, having discovered the
co-efficients of the several equations from theory
alone.
About this time Mayer of Wiirtemburg began
to distinguish himself as one of the ablest and
most ingenious astronomers that has appeared
in any age. In 1751 he had been appointed di¬
rector of the observatory at Gottingen; and in
this situation, encircled by foreign troops, and
exposed to the danger of powder magazines, he
yet laboured with such intense and enthusiastic
ardour as to shorten his days. His efforts were
mainly directed to the improvement of the Tables
of the motions of the Sun and Moon. These
elements he derived from a discussion of nu¬
merous observations of eclipses and occulta-
tions, and he borrowed little from theory, though
DISS. IV.
he preferred the arrangement of the elements
adopted by Euler. He was the first who em¬
ployed the method of conditional equations to
find the true values of the co-efficients. His
Tables were inserted in the Gottingen Trans¬
actions; and after the most sedulous correction,
he sent them in 1755 to London, for the pa¬
tronage of the Board of Longitude. At his
death in 1762 he left two copies, greatly im¬
proved, one of which his widow transmitted to
that scientific body. After long and protracted
deliberations, the modified prize of L.3000 was
at last awarded to his family, with a present
of L.300 to Euler, for his excellent formulas.
But another more complete copy having been af¬
terwards presented, the Board of Longitude be¬
stowed an additional reward of L.2000 at the in¬
stance of Dr Maskelyne, who zealously under¬
took the charge of editing those Tables in 1770.
The exertions of the continental mathemati¬
cians were now successfully directed to the in¬
vestigation of the disturbing influence or mutual
perturbations of the larger and nearer planets.
Euler in 1747 sent to the Academy of Sciences
at Paris a most ingenious memoir on the de¬
rangement of Saturn’s motion, occasioned by
the superior attraction of Jupiter. It was not
only the first solution of the problem, but the
simplest and most direct, referring the forces
exerted to three perpendicular co-ordinates.
He then discovered the beautiful principle in
celestial mechanics, that there exist really no
secular equations, but that all the deviations from
the regular course are strictly periodical, and
return always in the same order, though separat¬
ed at vast intervals. Notwithstanding the ex¬
uberance of his analytical resources, he was yet
obliged to omit the smaller quantities, and to adopt
certain admissible suppositions, in order to short¬
en the immensity of the calculation. But being
again recalled to the considei-ation of the subject,
he produced, four years afterwards, another dis¬
sertation, which surpassed all his former efforts,
and obtained the double prize of the Academy.
The great analyst new-modelled his investigation,
rendered the process much simpler and clearer,
pursued the approximations farther, and arrived
at more accurate results. He found that the mean
motions of Jupiter and Saturn are equally subject
4 p
666
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
to a very slow increase or diminution, which al¬
ternates however in the lapse of 15,000 years.
But Euler was induced to push those researches
still farther, and gained the prizes proposed by
the Academy for the years 1754 and 1756, by his
theory of the inequalities in the Earth’s motion,
caused by the planets. The three methods of
investigation that he proposed were all of them
quite different; and nothing seemed more asto¬
nishing than the facility with which his prolific
invention struck out new paths. He discovered
four small anomalies to result from their com¬
bined attractions, though it was scarcely pos¬
sible, for want of proper data, to assign the
precise measures of those aberrations. He ven¬
tured, however, to estimate the mean progres¬
sion of the aphelia at 12 seconds annually, and
the diminution of the obliquity of the ecliptic,
which some astronomers still doubted, at 49
seconds in a century. He found that the eccen¬
tricities of the aphelia of Jupiter and Saturn are
periodical, and complete their cycle in the space
of 30,000 years. By an inverted application of
the same principles, it was possible, by com¬
puting the co-efficients of the formulae from ac¬
tual observations, to determine the masses of
those planets which are not accompanied by sa¬
tellites. Euler hence found that Mars contains
rather less matter than the Earth, and Venus
only about the half, but which by a subsequent
calculation he nearly doubled. The process was
too much involved to secure entire confidence in
the results; and the rapidity and extent of his
calculations had led to occasional mistakes.
The same subject was in 1757 discussed
by Clairaut, in a clear and concise manner.
By comparing his formulae with the accurate
observations of La Caille, he determined very
nearly the masses of the principal planets, and
showed that the greatest effect of their accumu¬
lated influence in deranging the Earth’s motion
can amount only to about a minute. His esti¬
mate of the attraction of Venus has been con¬
firmed by later and more elaborate calculations.
In 1749 D’Alembert investigated rigorously
the effects arising from the Moon’s attracting the
spheroidal prominence of the Earth. By the
transformation of his general expressions, he
found the Precession, or conical motion of the
terrestrial axis about the poles of the ecliptic, to
he 50 seconds annually, and its Nutation or alter¬
nate vibration on the same plane only 18 seconds
during the period of the revolution of the Lunar
Nodes. Comparing this quantity with observa¬
tion, he concluded that at the surface of the
Earth the attraction of the Sun is to that of the
Moon as 3 to 7, which makes the satellite to
have only the 70th part of the mass of our planet.
The powers of calculation were now turned
to the erratic class of the celestial bodies, so
long the objects of superstitious terror, but which
Newton had likewise subjected to the great law
of gravitation. While the planets revolve in
ellipses approaching to circles, and lying nearly
in the plane of the ecliptic, the comets describe
elliptical orbits with very different inclinations,
and so extremely elongated as to resemble pa¬
rabolas through a considerable part of their
course. Being very small, they are seen for a
short space only in the vicinity of the Sun, but
become quite invisible during their distant excur¬
sive journey beyond perhaps the boundaries of
our planetary system. The periodic time of a co¬
met, depending on the length of the transverse axis
of its ellipse, can seldom be determined with any
sort of accuracy. The few observations that
can be made in the transient interval of its ap¬
parition are scarcely sufficient to assign its mean
motion and the places of its nodes and perihe¬
lion. Newton, while he proposed the parabolic
theory as sufficiently correct in the visible por¬
tion of the cometary track, gave two elegant
constructions for discovering the elements of
the curve from three proximate observations.
Halley applied those principles to the laborious
computation of twenty-four remarkable comets.
But his attention was more especially fixed on
the nearest of them, which had been observed
in 1531, 1607, and 1682, and seemed to be the
same with one noticed by chroniclers in 1080,
1155, 1230, 1305, 1381, and 1456,1 and hence
1 This would seem to be the comet whose appearance after the capture of Constantinople by the Turks spread terror through
Christendom, and which pope Calixtus III. so devoutly exorcised in the same anathema with these dreaded infidels.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
667
performing its revolutions in about 751 years; he
therefore ventured to predict its return about the
end of 1758 or the beginning of 1759. In arriv¬
ing at this conclusion be was equally fortunate
and circumspect; he found that the comet must
suffer great derangements in its passage through
our planetary system, from the attractions of
Jupiter and Saturn, which he endeavoured to
calculate, though with very doubtful success.
The time of the expected return approaching, ex¬
cited intense curiosity in the philosophical world;
and Clairaut was induced to apply his formulas
in the investigation of the progress of the comet,
which, after immense labour in calculation, as¬
sisted by several expert computers, he announced
at a public meeting of the Academy of Sciences
on the 14th of November 1758. He found that
the last revolution would be retarded about 618
days longer than the former, not reaching the
perihelion till the middle of April 1759. But
on revising his computation, he reduced that
term to the 4th of April, exceeding that of ob¬
servation by 12 days only, a discrepancy owing
probably to the influence of the remote planet
Uranus, which was not yet discovered. The comet
was first seen by a peasant in Saxony on Christ-
mas-day, but soon became the admiration of
Paris, and procured for Clairaut the enthusiasm
of popular applause. This remarkable erratic
star, though visible only for a few months, had
journeyed five years within the orbit of Saturn,
though it never stretched its excursion to twice
the distance of Uranus. It approached so near
to the Earth as would have disturbed her mo¬
tions, if its mass had not been extremely small.
The success and popularity of Clairaut drew
some peevish reflections from D’Alembert, whose
formulae, if he had taken the trouble to pursue
their application, would have led to similar re¬
sults. Euler, whose researches on Comets were
still more extensive and diversified, viewed this
triumph of ardent exertion with the calmness and
magnanimity of a sage. But Clairaut, eager to
complete a work in which he had gathered so
many laurels, next proceeded to calculate the dis¬
turbing influence of Jupiter and Saturn on the
place of the nodes of the comet of 1682 and 1759,
which has an inverted motion. Newton had
shown that the perturbations in the planetary
system always advance the perihelion and re¬
tract the nodes; but the case here was just re¬
versed, and the quantity of recession thence
determined agreed most exactly with observa¬
tion.
So gleamed the last efforts of a philosopher
who happily united the highest vigour of intel¬
lect with suavity of manners and elegance of
conversation, but whose days were shortened
by excessive labour, and the seductions of re¬
fined society, which incessantly courted and ca¬
ressed his presence. Clairaut died on the 17th
May 1765, at the age of 52, deeply regretted by
a very numerous circle of friends, and leaving
imperishable monuments of genius.1
1 A tribute of warm respect is paid to the memory of Clairaut by the celebrated but unfortunate Bailly, who thus elo¬
quently pleads the cause of abstract science:—
“ Le portrait de M. Clairaut seroit celui du veritable Geometre. Un Geometre est un homme qui entreprend de
trouver la ve'ritd ; et cette recherche est toujours pdnible, dansles sciences comme dans la morale. Profondeur de vue, jus-
tesse de jugement, imagination vive, voila les qualitcs du Ge'ometre : profondeur de vue, pour appercevo'r toutes les con¬
sequences d’un principe, cette immense posterity d’un mcme pere; justesse de jugement, pour distinguer entr’elles les
traits de famille, et pour remonter de ces consequences Isoldes au principe dont elles dependent. Mais ce qui donne cette
profondeur, ce qui exerce ce jugement, c’est 1’imagination ; non celle qui se joue a la surface des choses, qui les anime de
ses couleurs, qui y rdpand I’eclat, la vie, et le mouvement, mais une imagination qui agit au-dedans des corps, comme celle-ci
au-dehors. Elle se peint leur constitution intime; elle la change et la depouille k volonte; elle fait, pour ainsi dire,
1’anatomie des choses, et ne leur laisse que les organes des effets qu’elle veut expliquer. L’une aceumule pour embellir,
Pautre divise pour connoitre. Ifimagination, qui penetre ainsi la nature, vaut bien celle qui tente de la parer; moins
brillante que 1’enchanteresse qui nous amuse, eile a autant de puissance et plus de fidelitd. Quand 1’imagination a tout
montre, les difhcultes et les moyens, le Geometre peut aller en avant; et s’il est parti d’un principe incontestable, qui
rende sa solution certaine, on lui reconnoit un esprit sage; ce pnncipe le plus simple, offre-t-il la voie la plus courte, il a
I’dldgance de son art; et enfin il en a le genie, s’il atteint une vdrite grande, utile, et long-terns separee des vdrites
connues!
“ Aucune de ces qualitds n’a manqud a M. Clairaut; les preuves sont de 1’histoire de la Geometrie, les succes seuls
sont de notre ressort. I.’Astronomic lui doit des progres difficiles; nous le jugeons ici par ce qui inte'resse les homines, et
sur ce qu’il a fait d’utile. La theorie de la lune reside imparfaite dans les mains de Newton, le cours des cometes calcule,
leur retour prddit, en rendant compte des causes qui le retardent ou qui le prdeipitent; voila ce qui restoit k faire depuis
Newton, depuis Halley ; et voila ce que M. Clairaut a fait. Cela etoit difficile, puisque deux grands hommes y ont dte
arretes; cela dtoit utile, parceque la connoissance des mouvemens de la lune amenera la perfection de la geographic et de la
navigation, parceque la prediction du retour des cometes caracterisera notre siecle et fera sa gioire. Le principal inerite
668
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
But the Theory of Comets still remained incom¬
plete. Those excursive bodies, in traversing our
system, often suffer such derangement from the
influence of the proximate planets, that the most
select observations are insufficient to determine
with any sort of precision their elliptical orbits.
The famous comet of 1759 was calculated by Eu¬
ler and Lexell to perform its revolution in a space
between 449 and 519 years, while Pingre assigned
it the period of 1231 years. In some cases the
observations have indicated an hyperbolic orbit.
Conti, following the method of Gauss, found
the comet of 1811 to revolve in 3056*3 years;
but by a second computation he reduced the
time to 2301 years. The profound and expe¬
rienced calculator Bessel lately gave the comet
of 1807 a period of 1953*2 years, which he next
brought down to 1483*3. The attraction how¬
ever of the Earth would increase this to 1713*5
years, while the influence of Jupiter would re¬
duce it again to 1543*1 years. Although the
process of calculation be now greatly improved,
the return of a new comet cannot be safely pre¬
dicted. Our expectations can acquire confidence
only from a comparison with former appear¬
ances.
Though the comets suffer such derangement
from the action of the larger planets, they have
no sensible influence on our system. They
must therefore be extremely small, consisting
of a dark nucleus, invested with a cloudy or
hazy excrescence, and generally provided with
very long sweeping tails. They have never
disturbed our tides; though, having sometimes
approached within the third part of the dis¬
tance of the Moon, they would consequently
with the same mass exert twenty-seven times
greater deranging force. But their passage was
then so rapid as not to allow the accumulation
of impulse required to heave the wide expanse
of ocean.
Comets are distinguished by the elements of
their orbits, derived only from observations
made near the perihelion. Newton gave an
elegant method of discovering those paths, by a
geometrical construction grounded on the para¬
bolic theory, and embracing three distinct ob¬
servations. But this solution is liable to much
uncertainty in its application, and Boscovich
has shown how in most cases it merges in a
porismatic or indefinite result. Mathematicians
have therefore employed the resources of ana¬
lysis in the resolution of this problem. Euler,
besides the three consecutive observations, adopt¬
ed a fourth one more remote, and thus obtained
an accuratebut very tedious and involved process.
Lambert derived a different mode of solution from
some general properties which he discovered of the
Conic Sections in 1761. He employed calculation
combined with a graphical process, and sought
to abridge the labour, by help of a table of the
descents of comets, or the motions which they
would perform if their parabolic paths collapsed
into straight lines. Thomas Simpson, the only
person in our island who at this time appeared
to emulate the Continental mathematicians, like¬
wise produced ingenious disquisitions on the
Comets, and framed similar tables. Hennert,
Tempelhoff, and Sejour, afterwards pursued the
same subject, which has since been discussed
with great ability by Lagrange, Laplace, and
Legendre. Other methods for discovering the
orbits of comets have been more recently pro¬
posed by Delambre, Olbers, and Gauss ,* the last
of which may be considered as the most elegant
and complete. But all these analytical modes
of solution are still very tedious and compli¬
cated; insomuch that the humbler procedure
by the way of Trial and Error, or what is called
False Position, is found in practice to be on the
whole the shortest and most satisfactory.1
While the sublimer geometry thus gradually
disclosed the various recondite anomalies which
de M. Clairaut fut le talent des applications : malgre son gdnie, il n’e'toit point rebute des details; il pensoit qu’une ve'ritd
<.e praf-que etoit preferable a celles qui restent ensevelies dans vingt pages d’analyse; aussi n’a-t-il fait que des choses utiles.
Son nom a ete connu, porte partout, et sera repete dans les ages. Si nous avons ose le louer, c’est que TAstronomie
iUi doit de la leconnoissance, c’est que nous sommes au moment oil la posteritd commence pour lui. La verite peut dlever
une yoix franche et libre, et nous ne sommes que son organe.” (Histoire de VAstronomic Moderne, tome iii. pp. 197, 198.)
^ r^°i ^ access^e work that has recently appeared on this very difficult subject is the Essay on Comets, which gained
h*e l- ellowes’ Prizes in the University of Edinburgh, and which reflects such credit on its vouthful author,
David Milne, Esq. advocate.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
669
affect the planetary motions, and yet maintain
the balanced harmony of the universe, a genius
of the first order arose, and placed himself at
once on the summit beside the chief mathema¬
ticians of the age. In 1759 Lagrange, when
only 23 years old, gave a new extension to the
Integral Calculus, under a form which has ob¬
tained the appellation of the Calculus of Varia¬
tions, and applied this with singular address to
the rigorous solution of the very difficult pro¬
blems of the propagation of sound, and the
vibration of a musical chord. His early pro¬
gress was hailed by Euler, and encouraged by
D’Alembert. No mathematician has ever dis¬
played a completer command of the Calculus
than Lagrange, who rivals Euler himself in
clearness, elegance, and fertility of invention,
and eminently surpasses that great master of
analysis in the justness and expansion of his phi¬
losophical views.
The next effort of Lagrange obtained him the
prize offered by the Academy of Sciences at
Paris in 1764, for his Discourse on the Libra-
tion of the Moon, in which he most satisfac¬
torily explained, from the theory of Attraction,
the cause of the Moon’s presenting always near¬
ly the same face towards the Earth. He arrived
directly at the same general equations as D’Alem¬
bert, by a happy combination of the dynamical
principle of that philosopher with the property
of virtual velocities, which was the germ of his
capital work on Analytical Mechanics. This
subject he again resumed in 1780, and discussed
it in the fullest and most accurate manner,
having succeeded in completing the integration
of the chief equations.
The theory of Jupiter’s Satellites is not only
an object interesting in speculative science, but
of great importance in the practice of astrono¬
mical observation for finding the longitude.
Bailly, applying merely the formulae of Clairaut,
obtained an imperfect solution of their periodic
motions. In 1766 the genius of Lagrange em¬
braced this subject in its full extent, by intro¬
ducing into his equations not only the attractive
force of the Sun, but the mutual attractions of
the Satellites themselves. He neglected no term
which might sensibly affect the results, and ad¬
vanced with caution and address by successive
approximations. His investigation was a model
of analytical research; yet, though capable of
extensive application, it did not descend into all
the practical details.
The Lunar Theory still presented difficulties
which it required the utmost efforts of genius
to abridge and partially remove. In 1768
D’Alembert simplified the evolution of the dis¬
turbing forces, by projecting orthographically the
moon’s orbit on the plane of the ecliptic. Euler,
in conjunction with his son Albert, now gave
the completest solution of the general problem
that had yet appeared; but having discovered
no indication of a secular equation affecting the
Lunar motions, they were inclined to doubt its
existence. This arduous discussion was repeat¬
ed in 1772, on which occasion Lagrange shared
the prize with the Eulers. Two years after¬
wards he resumed the subject, and closely exa¬
mined the different conditions annexed to the pro¬
gramme. There are five elements of a planet’s
motion liable to the influence of Disturbing
Forces: 1. The Great Axis of the primary ellipse;
2. The Eccentricity of the orbit; 3. The Incli¬
nation of its plane; 4. The position of its Nodes;
and, 5. The direction of its line of Apsides.
In 1776 Lagrange demonstrated that the great
axis, on which depends the period of revolution,
has no term involving the lapse of time, and
therefore cannot be affected by arty Secular Equa¬
tions, which constantly increase or diminish.
But with regard to the mean motions of Jupiter
and Saturn, Lagrange and Euler came to oppo¬
site conclusions, the one exhibiting a continual
acceleration, and the other a like retardation.
Laplace, who has attained still higher cele¬
brity, now appeared on the scene. Displaying
the same faculty of invention, he possessed
nearly equal skill in the management of the
Calculus, without reaching, however, the clear¬
ness, simplicity, and elegance of his illustrious
rival. But he ranged over a wider field of dis¬
covery, and exerted greater and more persever¬
ing industry, and pressed forward with a loftier
feeling of ambition.
In 1773 Laplace, following the steps of La¬
grange, adopted a new mode of investigation,
and pushed his calculations farther. Instructed
by the successive advances of his predecessor, he
670
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
proved in 1115 that the mean motions of Jupiter
and Saturn have no secular equations, hut per¬
form all their changes within certain long periods,
which hence reconciles the discordant conclu¬
sions of Euler and Lagrange. Having found
that the variation of eccentricity of Jupiter’s orbit
must cause a corresponding alteration in the mo¬
tion of the Satellites, Laplace transferred the
same idea to the perturbations of our Moon, and
thus discovered the true theory of her secular
equation, or rather of that vast cycle in which
the lunar revolutions are alternately accelerated
and retarded. This very slow hut gradual
diminution of the moon’s periodic motion, which
the intermediate observations of the Arabian
Astronomers, between Hipparchus and Bradley,
have incontestibly established, was at one time
referred to the resistance from an ethereal fluid
imagined to occupy the celestial spaces. La¬
place at first conceived that the retardation might
be explained on the hypothesis of a progressive
transmission of the power of Attraction, and com¬
puted that it would require 8000 times the cele¬
rity of Light, which travels 200,000 miles in
a second, to produce this effect. But his sub¬
sequent inquiries having shown that Gravity
must dart its influence more than 50 million
times faster than Light, we may therefore safely
consider it as quite instantaneous. This conclu¬
sion is highly important in a philosophical view,
since it sets for ever at rest the various specula¬
tive attempts to explain the cause of Attraction
by the agency of certain mechanical intermedia,
and demonstrates it to be a primordial and ul¬
timate principle ordained by the Wisdom of the
Supreme Architect.1 2
In the meanwhile Lagrange had in successive
dissertations investigated the secular variations
of the planets by a new and direct process, which
he conducted with incomparable address and
elegance. Nor did he confine his researches
merely to theory, but applied the formula to the
motions of the five planets then known. In a
subsequent investigation he most skilfully se¬
parated the terms of the equation which exhibit
the secular deviations, from those which repre¬
sent the periodical changes.
The soaring rivals appear alternately to sur¬
pass each other. Laplace, continuing his re¬
searches, at last discovered, that the secular
equation of the Moon affecting her mean motion
and that of her perigee and of her nodes in the
ratio of 4, 12, and 3, is produced by the slow
variation of the solar attraction occasioned by
the changing eccentricity of the Earth’s orbit
resulting from the influence of the larger planets,
though they cannot alter the great axis which
determines the mean periodic revolution. La¬
grange then showed that the same results were
deducible from his general formulae. In 1785
Laplace resumed his investigation of the motions
of Jupiter and Saturn; and suspecting that Euler
and Lagrange had not carried their approxima¬
tion sufficiently far, he pushed his calculations
from the second to the fourth powers of the ec¬
centricities of their orbits, and proved that those
planets can have no secular equations. But,
having remarked that their mean periods are
commensurable and very nearly as 2 to 5, he
found their reciprocal acceleration and retarda¬
tion to follow the same ratio. The cycle began
in 1560, and comprehends 929 years; so that at
the epoch of 1750 Saturn had his period short¬
ened 48' 44", while that of Jupiter was lengthen¬
ed by 19' 28". In 1788 he discovered two curi¬
ous laws that connect the periods of Jupiter’s
Satellites, and gave a complete theory of their
motions, which served as the basis of Delambre’s
excellent Tables.
After an interval of several years, during which
Lagrange had totally suspended his mathemati¬
cal studies, he returned to his early pursuits with
all the freshness of youthful invention, and all
the vigour of matured and improved intellect. In
1808 he gave a most general solution of the pro¬
blem of Disturbing Forces, and by a wonderful
effort of sagacity he reduced his equations into a
form of the utmost simplicity and elegance.3
1 It is rather singular that Laplace should on several occasions betray a disposition towards materialism, while his inves¬
tigations point evidently to an opposite inference.
2 Since all observations are liable to incidental inaccuracies, it requires great address to balance the opposite errors. The
ordinary way is to take the arithmetical mean; but this mode confounds equally the remote and the approximate indica¬
tions. Cotes, in his Estimate of the Errors of Observation, proposed an ingenious and more accurate mode of investigation,
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
671
Hie eighteenth century was equally distin¬
guished by the progress of Practical Astronomy.
Observatories were greatly multiplied and wide¬
ly dispersed over the surface of the globe, the
art of making observations was brought to high¬
er perfection, and instruments of more delicate
construction were successively introduced. Be¬
sides the great problems of the figure of the
Earth and the nutation of her axis, we may enu¬
merate four capital improvements: The mea¬
sure of celestial refraction—the determination of
the parallaxes, and consequently the mean dis¬
tances of the Moon and Sun—the discovery of
new planets and satellites—and the enlarged
survey of the heavens, comprising the groups
and various modifications of the fixed stars.
1. Celestial Refraction. A ray of light passing
obliquely from a rarer into a denser medium, is
bent or refracted towards the perpendicular.
The light emitted by the heavenly bodies, when
it enters our atmosphere and descends to the
surface through a succession of condensing strata,
must evidently describe an incurved path ; and
the particles which reach the eye and produce
vision, pursuing the direction of the terminal
tangent, will give to a star an apparent eleva¬
tion. The portion of the trajectory traced in ap¬
proaching the surface of the Earth may be con¬
sidered as an arc of a circle having its radius
about six times greater. The quantity of refrac¬
tion is hence nearly proportional to the tangent
of the altitude.
Hawksbee had in 1710 found by a nice ex¬
periment, that the refractive power of air com¬
pared with that of water is in the ratio of its
density; and this law Avas ascertained by Biot
and Arago about a century afterwards to be gene¬
ral in our atmosphere. Hence refraction of that
medium increased with the elevation of the baro¬
meter or the depression of the thermometer.
The effect of cold was early remarked by the
Dutch Arctic voyagers; but Bouguer first ac¬
curately observed the diminished agency of at¬
tenuated air during his sojourn on the summits
of the Andes. Yet without demonstration Brad-
ley gave a simple rule for computing the celes¬
tial refraction, and Mayer adopted another near¬
ly similar. Thomas Simpson, in a very ingeni¬
ous dissertation, derived a formula which is sub¬
stantially the same. The subject of refraction
has likewise been discussed by Lambert, Kramp,
Fontana, and more recently by Laplace, Gauss,
Bessel, Young, and Ivory. The formula of La¬
place is complicated and inelegant, while Ivory’s
method seems clear and simple.
2. The Lunar and Solar Parallaxes. The
nearer celestial bodies are seen from the surface
of the Earth in a position somewhat different
than if viewed from the centre. This deviation,
termed parallax, is obviously greatest at the ho¬
rizon, and diminishes constantly in approaching
to the zenith. To ascertain parallax with any
precision, it is therefore required to institute
observations at distant stations. It was chiefly
for this purpose that La Caille selected the Cape
of Good Hope, where he determined the mean
parallax of the moon to be 57' 39". But the
parallax of the sun, being so small a quantity,
is much more difficult to find. Kepler had taken
it for a minute, Halley reckoned it at 25", but
subsequent astronomers had generally reduced
the estimate to 10 seconds. To determine this
element with accuracy, Halley proposed a very
ingenious method from the next transit of Ve¬
nus, by measuring the acceleration and retar¬
dation of the time of her passage over the disc
of the sun as viewed from remote points on
the surface of the globe. He could not expect
his life to be prolonged till that event, but he
warmly exhorted his successors to prepare them-
which, reduced to its simplest form, consisted in projecting the several data on a plane, and assigning their common centre
of gravity for the true result. Euler disposed the observations into conditional equations with indeterminate co-efficients,
which he" traced out by successive eliminations. Mayer adopted the same plan, and employed it most extensively in the
construction of his valuableTables. But this procedure being very laborious, Legendre poposed to abridge it by the method
of the least squares, which had likewise occurred to Gauss, being generally used by him in the reduction of observations. It
was a fine application of the Doctrine of Chances. Various algebraical investigations of the principle have been given;
but they are commonly very intricate and abstruse.
Mathematicians, in threading the labyrinths of analysis, seem to have overlooked a most simple and luminous demon¬
stration furnished by the Ancient Geometry. From an elegant proposition of the Loci Plani, it follows as a corollary, that
the sum of the squares of the distances of any number of points from their centre of gravity is a minimum ; which therefore
merges in the solution of Cotes.
672
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
selves for observing it on the 5th of June 1761.
Astronomers were accordingly dispatched by the
several maritime powers of Europe to all the
stations that were considered as the most eligi¬
ble and accessible. Owing to various accidents,
however, the results did not answer the expecta¬
tions raised. The stations had not been always
the best chosen; some of the most expert observ¬
ers did not reach their proper destination, others
were obstructed in their operations by the state
of the weather, and many difficulties generally
occurred which had not been provided for.
From a comparison of the collected observa¬
tions, Pingre deduced a parallax of 10^", while
Short made it only 8^". Such a discrepancy was
mortifying, and astronomers looked forward with
impatience to the succeeding transit of Venus,
which was fortunately to happen within the space
of eight years, though such an occurrence would
not take place again till the 8th of December
1874. In the meanwhile Dr M. Stewart reviv¬
ed an idea of Machin, who, from a rude com¬
putation grounded on the motion of the Moon’s
Nodes, estimated the Solar parallax at 8". He
preferred however the change of the apogee, or
of the direction of the principal axis, which is af¬
fected in some degree by the sun’s distance. By
the application of the Greek Geometry alone,
Stewart had with profound ingenuity achieved
the solution of a problem which so long baffled
the address of the great masters of the modern
calculus ; but in pursuing his deductions, the
passion for purity and elegance of demon¬
stration led him to hazard so many simplifica¬
tions, as to render the conclusion, amidst a
balance of errors, very doubtful and precarious.
He reduced the parallax to 6•9'', which from its
smallness excited considerable surprise.
The uncertainty regarding the sun’s real
distance was finally removed by the skilful
and numerous observations of the Transit of the
3d of June 1769. The several results differed
scarcely the quarter of a second, and their con¬
currence fixed the parallax at 8*6". This like¬
wise agrees with the theoretical calculations of
Laplace from the Lunar anomalies. But Bessel,
having with immense labour combined and care¬
fully recomputed the original observations, has
recently detected a small correction, which makes
the parallax to be only and consequent¬
ly the mean distance of the sun 95,158,440
English miles.
3. Discovery of New Planets and Satellites. It
was an inveterate opinion, derived from the
ancient Pythagoreans, that the number of the
great celestial bodies must of necessity be six,
the first perfect number, or one which contains
all its subdivisions. When Galileo directed his
tube to the heavens and detected some of the
satellites of Jupiter, this notion retarded the
assent of the learned to his discovery; but after
Saturn was found to be accompanied likewise
by satellites, speculative philosophers sought to
extend the catalogue of revolving stars to 28,
the next perfect number. In this expectation,
however, they were disappointed, and the Solar
System received no further accession for the
space of a century. The discovery of a New
Planet was reserved for our own times.
Herschel, a musician residing at Bath, though
a native of Hanover, which he had left in early
youth, devoted his leisure to the construction
and improvement of reflecting telescopes, with
which he continued ardently to survey the
heavens. His zeal and assiduity had already
drawn the notice of astronomers, when he an¬
nounced to Dr Maskelyne, that, on the night of
the 13th of March 1781, he observed a shifting
star, which from its smallness he judged to be a
Comet, though it was distinguished neither by a
nebulosity nor a tail. The motion of the star,
however, was so slow as to require distant ob¬
servations to ascertain its path. It was for
several months presumed to be a Comet; but the
hypothesis of a parabolic orbit led to very dis¬
cordant results. The president Saron, an expert
and obliging calculator, was the first who con¬
ceived it to be a Planet, having inferred from the
few observations communicated to him, that it
described a circle with a radius of about twelve
times the mean distance of the Earth from the
Sun. Lexell removed all doubt, and before
the close of the year he computed the elements
of the New Planet with considerable accuracy,
making the great axis of its orbit 19 times greater
than that of the earth, and the period of its re¬
volution 84 years. Bradley, mistaking it for a
fixed star, had observed it on the 3d December
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
673
1753; and it was again seen by Mayer on the
23d September 1756.
Herschel proposed, out of gratitude to his
Royal Patron, to call the planet he had found
by the barbarous appellation of Georgium Sidus ;
but the classical name of Uranus, which Bode
afterwards applied, is almost universally adopted.
Animated by this happy omen, he prosecuted his
astronomical observations with unwearied zeal
and ardour, and continued during the remainder
of a long life to enrich science with a succes¬
sion of splendid discoveries. But Herschel also
detected the satellites that accompany his planet,
amounting to six, which revolve in a plane
neaily perpendicular to its orbit, and contrary
to the order of the signs. Both these primary and
secondary bodies obey, in the relation of their
motions and distances, the great law of Kepler.
The same conformity obtains in the revolutions
of the satellites of Saturn, which he increased
to seven; and thus every step in the progress of
astronomy gives additional solidity to the grand
system of attraction.
Some German philosophers, indulging their
curious fancy, have traced among the distances
of the planets an analogy, which, though not
strictly accurate, yet approximates so near the
truth, that if not really founded in nature, it may
at least assist the memory. Kepler, whose
ardent imagination inflamed all his speculations,
believed that the harmony of our system wanted
a planet between Mars and Jupiter. A similar
notion was entertained by the ingenious Lam¬
bert, who further supposed it might be dark and
invisible. Reckoning from Mercury, the first of
planets, and assuming as the unit of measures
its interval from the sun, the intervals of the
rest will be expressed by the binary progres¬
sion 2, 4, 8, 16, &c.; and consequently the
distances of the senes of planets from the sun
may be represented by the numbers 1, 2,
3, 5, 9, 17, 33, 65, &c. While 3 denotes the
distance of the Earth, and 17 and 33 indicate
the distances of Jupiter and Saturn, the remote
Uranus has come to occupy the place marked
by 65. But a planet at the distance 9, between
5 and 17, the distances of Mars and Jupiter, was
still wanting to complete the regular sequence.
Bode slightly modified these proportions, and
D1SS. IV.
attained greater accuracy, at some expense,
however, of simplicity. Taking the number 4 to
express the interval of Mercury, he multiplied
the terms of the binary progression by 3. The
distances of the planets from the Sun are hence
denoted by the series 4, 7, 10, 16, 28, 52, 100,
196, &c. which numbers are convertible into
English miles by multiplying by 9£ millions.
The dark or deficient planet, corresponding to
28 or the distance of 266 millions of miles, is
now supplied by the discovery of four very small
stars, which have been fancifully conjectured
to be only fragments dissevered from the prin¬
cipal, while other portions, still unobserved,
aie whirling through space. The detection of
those singular planets distinguishes the com¬
mencement of the nineteenth century. Piazzi
discovered Ceres at Palermo on the 1st of
January 1801, Gibers at Bremen found Pallas
on the 28th of March 1802, and his countryman
Hai ding added Juno on the 2d of September 1804,
and Vesta on the 29th of March 1807. These
asteroides, as they have been called by Herschel,
differ from other planets not only by their di¬
minutive size, but by the remarkable inclination
of their orbits to the plane of the ecliptic, which,
however, they intersect nearly in the same nodes.
This wonderful extension of the Solar System
was chiefly due to the zeal and industry of the
German and other confederated Astronomers,
who, at the instance of the spirited Baron Zach,
had divided the heavens into different sections,
and occupied themselves in surveying their
several allotments. The catalogue of fixed
stars was thus prodigiously augmented, and
many peculiarities in their character and con¬
figuration detected. In the meanwhile Herschel,
with the superior aid of his powerful reflecting
telescopes, observed the numerous clusters of
nebulosities, and distinguished many of the
changing and double stars, which, though suns
of other systems, yet appear connected, and ma y
probably circulate about their common centre
of gravity. Assuming that the instrument he
used could enable him to penetrate 497 times
farther than Sirius, he reckoned 116,000 stars to
pass in a quarter of an hour over the field of
view, which subtended an angle of only IS7. If
we compute from such a narrow zone, the whole
4 o
674
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
celestial vault must display, within the range of
telescopic vision, the stupendous number of more
than five billions of fixed stars. Imagination is
bewildered in the immensity of such prospects.
But a sober retrospect of the progress of astro¬
nomy would aid our conception of the structure
and harmonious adjustment of the universe.
“ To generate a circular description, it is
requisite that the body should have the precise
celerity due to a fall through half that radius.
But, projected with inferior celerity, it would,
about the same axis, trace elliptical orbits more
or less compressed; the foci mutually retiring
towards the extremities, while the conjugate
diameter contracts. When the primary im¬
pulsion becomes extinct, the elongated ellipse
merges in a straight line. On the other hand,
if the projectile motion should exceed the limit
of circular velocity, a new series of curves will
arise. But when the acceleration is directly as
the distance, on passing the limit of celerity, the
foci will first unite in the centre, and the axis
suddenly turning at right angles, the foci will
now gradually dispart in this transverse position.
As the velocity of impulsion is successively aug¬
mented, the ellipse will assume all the degrees
of oblateness, till it finally vanishes in two pa¬
rallel lines.
“ If the centripetal force be inversely as the
square of the distance, the moment the primary
impulsion transcends the limit due to a circular
trajectory, the orbit would suddenly change into
an equilateral hyperbola; the farther focus,
which had come to coalesce with the attractive
one, now flying to the opposite side beyond the
diameter. When the celerity of projection re¬
ceives a farther increase, the incurvation at the
vertex will be proportionally diminished. With
an extreme impulsion, the body would shoot off
in a straight line perpendicular to the axis.
“ It thus appears, that a circular revolution,
which the ancients so fondly contemplated as the
perfection of the celestial movements, is incom¬
patible with the stability of the universe. The
most absolute precision of impulse would have
been necessary, and the very slightest subsequent
addition of celerity, from the incidental influ¬
ence of those disturbing forces which are inces¬
santly in operation, would at once have trans¬
formed the circle into a hyperbola, and have
carried the planet away for ever into the bound¬
less expanse of heaven. In viewing the grand
phenomena of nature, our admiration is drawn
to those conservatory principles which, in short¬
er or longer periods, correct every occasional de¬
viation from the general balance of the system.
“ It is curious, however, to remark how very
nearly the planetary orbits approximate to cir¬
cles. In that of our earth, the two axes differ
only by the 7086th part. In the trajectory of
Mars, this difference amounts to the 281st part.
It was accordingly the greater eccentricity of
that orbit which led Kepler to detect its ellipti¬
cal form. The group of small kindred planets
lately discovered revolve in curves still more
elongated, the diameters of those of Juno and
Pallas being nearly in the ratio of 30 to 29.
These singular bodies might seem to rank be¬
tween the ordinary planets and the comets,
which wander in ellipses of extreme elongation,
scarcely distinguished from parabolas, during a
great part of their visible track. In another
circumstance, too, the analogy obtains; for
while the larger planets deviate not more than
2 or 3 degrees from the plane of the ecliptic,
Pallas crosses it at an angle of 35°, and the
paths of the comets have every possible inclina¬
tion. It remains to be discovered, whether di¬
versified bodies, travelling in the celestial spaces,
may not fill up more completely that prolonged
gradation of existence, which appears so con¬
spicuous in other parts of nature. Supposing
the projection of the planets to be the result of
some more general law, those which had an ex¬
cess of impulsion would totally escape our range
of observation, being swept away in hyperbolas
into boundless space, there perhaps to form
other stellar systems.”1
The ingenious Lambert produced some curi¬
ous speculations respecting the celestial bodies.
He presumed that the various planetary systems
are all connected, and revolve about a common
centre, which Galileo had conjectured to be si¬
tuate in Orion or Sirius. The planets, therefore,
1 Elements of Natural Philosophy, pp. 123—125.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
do not strictly describe ellipses, but a series of
convoluted epicycloids. He showed that comets,
in passing the nearest planets, might have their
orbits changed into parabolas or even hyperbo¬
las, and hence journeying from system to sys¬
tem, would perform the tour of the universe.
Those erratic bodies he peopled with a race of
contemplative astronomers, who, enjoying such
peculiar advantages, could survey the whole ex¬
tent of the starry frame.
Lambert remarks, that, between the 16th and
I7th centuries of our era, we have been visit¬
ed by 40 comets that have not appeared again.
These must, from their brilliancy, have reached
the earth’s orbit, and perhaps come within the
verge of Venus and Mercury. But the very
elongated cometary paths might descend in va¬
rious directions without interfering with the
planets. Calculating on the principle of chances,
he found that no fewer than 500,000 comets
might have the aphelia of their ellipses situate
in the orbit of Saturn. But if we extend this
computation to the orbit of Uranus, we may
reckon up two millions of comets, as probably the
number of those erratic attendants of our system.
Mr Milne carries the estimate still higher. As¬
suming a thousand years for the average period
of the revolutions of the comets, it would re¬
quire to multiply by ten the 140 which have
been observed within the earth’s orbit during
the last hundred years, giving 1400 for the
whole of such near visitors. But Uranus being
twenty times more distant, the product of the cube
of this, or 8000 into 1400, exhibits 11,200,000
as the approximate number of all the comets
which range within the known extent of our
system.
The periodical change of the inclination of
the ecliptic is at last established, though the
quantity of variation and the length of its cycle
have not been absolutely determined. Schubert,
in his treatise of Practical Astronomy, makes it
to fluctuate between 18° and 29°, altering in the
space of 65,000 years from 27° 45’ to 20° 43’; the
maximum having occurred at the remote period
of 36,300 years. But Delambre and Piazzi,
whose judgment and scientific attainments rank
much higher, have reduced this aberration with¬
in the moderate limits of 1° 20'. The greater
obliquity of this ecliptic in ancient times, by
elevating the sun more in summer, and depress¬
ing him in winter, must have proportionally in¬
creased the diversity of the seasons. But still
the mean temperature of the earth has conti¬
nued for ages exactly the same; for the momen¬
tum of rotation at first impressed remaining ne¬
cessarily invariable, the smallest rise of heat,
expanding the revolving mass, must have retard¬
ed its motion, and consequently lengthened
somewhat the day. Any decrease of heat, on
the contrary, would accelerate the terrestrial ro¬
tation. Now, the length of day has certainly
not altered a single second of time since Hip¬
parchus observed eclipses 3000 years ago; and
it therefore follows, that during this long period
the mean temperature of the earth has not va¬
ried the fraction of a degree. The constant ac¬
cession of heat from the sun must hence be con¬
sumed by some process yet unexplored. Unless
this heat were again to resume the form of light,
it could not be darted from the upper atmo¬
sphere through the boundless void. Since the
waters of the ocean are colder in proportion to
their depth, might we not suppose the bottom
to be frozen, and all the surplus heat to be ab¬
sorbed in melting the subaqueous ice ?
Astronomical considerations likewise eluci¬
date the internal structure of our globe. The
mean density of the mass is about double that of
its exterior crust. But if the general materials
were the same, and the law of compression sub¬
sisted in any degree, the resulting condensation
would be inconceivably greater. Air compress¬
ed into the fiftieth part of its volume was lately
found in France to have its elasticity fifty times
augmented; and had it continued to contract at
this rate, it would from its own incumbent weight
have acquired the density of water at the depth
of 34 miles. But water itself would have its
density doubled at the depth of 93 miles, and
even attain the density of quicksilver at a depth
of 362 miles. In descending therefore towards
the centre, through the space of about 4000 miles,
the condensation of ordinary materials would
surpass the utmost powers of conception. “ It
seems therefore to follow conclusively, that our
planet must have a very widely cavernous struc¬
ture, and that we tread on a crust or shell,
676
PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS.
whose thickness bears a very small proportion
to the diameter of its sphere. But since an ab¬
solute void is inadmissible, the vast subterra¬
nean cavity must be filled with some very diffu¬
sive medium, of astonishing elasticity or inter¬
nal repulsion among its molecules. The only
fluid we know possessing that character is Light
itself, which when embodied constitutes Ele¬
mental Heat or Tire. The great concavity may
thus be filled with the purest ethereal essence,—
Light in its most concentrated state, shining
with intense refulgence and overpowering splen¬
dour.”1
It was the firm opinion of the ancients that
our atmosphere rises as high as the Moon, the
whole space below being doomed to change, decay,
and mortality; and this notion still tinctures the
language of poetry. But Kepler first reduced
the extent of atmosphere within moderate limits.
Astronomers having observed that twilight com¬
monly closes after the sun has sunk 18 degrees
below the horizon, it was hence easy to com¬
pute that the highest portion of air which from
the west reflects the departing ray must have an
altitude of about 44 miles. This conclusion,
however, seems invalidated by the remark of
Lambert, that twilight does not absolutely cease,
but is succeeded during the night by a series of
decreasing crepuscles, formed by a double, a
triple, or even a quadruple reflection. These
secondary lights may therefore be produced by
the repeated gleaming from the sky at much
lower elevations.
A wider limitation of the atmosphere is de¬
rived from a rigid principle. It is evident that
the particles of air, as they expand from the
axis of rotation, will augment their centrifugal
tendencies, while their attraction to the centre
will diminish in a duplicate ratio. At a certain
distance, therefore, those antagonist forces will
produce a mutual equilibrium. This balance
must occur in the equatorial region at the height
of 6*6 semidiameters, or about 26,000 miles,
when the centrifugal force is increased, and the
power of graritation is reduced to about —.
43|
The late Dr Wollaston arrived at nearly a si¬
milar conclusion, from an hypothesis respecting
the ultimate molecules of the atmosphere. But
a different consideration will bring us within
much narrower limits. If we assume the de¬
pression of the absolute zero to be 750 centesi¬
mal degrees, and adopt the formula already
stated for the relation of the density and tem¬
perature of air, it will follow that the tenuity
of the highest stratum of the atmosphere cannot
exceed 50x750 or 37,500 times, which corre¬
sponds to an altitude of about 511 miles. This
boundary nearly coincides with the approxima¬
tion of Kepler, and likewise agrees sufficiently
with the estimated range of the Aurora Borealis.
It thus appears from concurring probabilities,
that our atmosphere extends not above 50 miles,
the higher regions perhaps being occupied by
hydrogen gas transfused with phosphorescent
matter.
The perfection of astronomical instruments
has afforded the prospect of being able to deter¬
mine the Annual Parallax^ and consequently the
distance of the fixed stars; but the quantity of
deviation is so small as to have hitherto eluded
the closest observation. It cannot amount to a
single second in the most conspicuous and pro¬
bably the nearest of the stars. These luminous
bodies must therefore be more distant at least
two hundred thousand times than the measure of
the diameter of the earth. The light emitted
from such neighbouring suns, though it flies
with enormous rapidity, must yet travel more
than six thousand years before it approaches the
confines of our system.
But scattered over the immensity of space,
there may exist bodies which, by their magni¬
tude and predominant attraction, retain or re¬
call the rays of light, and are lost in solitude
and darkness. Had the celerity of the luminous
particles not exceeded four hundred miles in a
second, we should never have enjoyed the cheer¬
ing beams of the Sun. They would have been
arrested in their journey, and drawn back to
their source, before they reached the orbit of
Mercury. But a star similar to our Sun, and
having a diameter 63 times greater, would en¬
tirely overpower the impetus of light.
1 Elements of Natural Philosophy, pp. 449-453.
DISSERTATION FOURTH.
677
Many of tlie smaller stars are found to have
proper motions, some of them to an extent of
several degrees. Mayer attempted to class the
shifting stars according to their places in the
heavens, and remarked that, while those situate
in two opposite quarters appeared nearly sta¬
tionary, such as had a lateral position varied the
most. He therefore inferred that our Sun and
the whole train of his attendants are carried
forward in the line joining those opposite points.
Herschel seized this ingenious idea, and com¬
bining his own observations, he concluded that
the translation of the planetary system is di¬
rected to the constellation of Hercules. But
the critical examination of Bessel has proved
that no such regular transfer would reconcile
the various discrepancies of the shifting stars.
The Double and Multiple Stars have lately
engaged the attention of observers. Their ca¬
talogue has been prodigiously augmented by the
ardour of South and the younger Herschel, and
by the unwearied assiduity of Struve at Borpat,
and of Inghirami at Florence. The Double
Stars assume every hue, but generally the con¬
trasted or complementary colours; a circum¬
stance which seems to betray the influence of
ocular deception. Their proper motions result
probably from a circulation around their com¬
mon centre of gravity. The Multiple Stars may
possibly derive their peculiar aberrations in
certain cases from the revolution about huge
invisible Suns. All these mutable Stars are
extremely remote, descending so low as the
twentieth degree of magnitude, and can there¬
fore be distinguished only by the penetration of
the most powerful telescopes. Imagination is
utterly bewildered by the shadowy visions which
flicker along the horizon of Illimitable Space.
But each successive observation reveals more
clearly the extension of that exquisite harmony
which the great law of attraction maintains
through the countless systems of Worlds.
END OF VOLUME FIRST.
*
> {
INDEX
TO
THE DISSERTATIONS.
A.
Page.
Aberration of light, discovery of, by Dr Bradley 569
Affords another proof of the earth’s motion in its
orbit 57I
Abstraction, the faculty of, essential to the geometer
and the metaphysician, as well as the poet 6
Academies, or philosophical societies, first establishment
of, in Italy, England, and France 499
Acoustics, explanation of the theory of vibrations 612
Principles on which music is founded ibid.
Different degrees of sensibility possessed by the or¬
gans of seeing and hearing ibid.
Addison, Joseph, his opinion of the works of Hobbes 42
His censure of the French writers of his age 55
His reputation as a philosopher has suffered by the
beauty and clearness of his style 83
Value of his essays in widening the circle of men¬
tal cultivation 160, 161
His papers on the pleasures of imagination chiefly
entitle him to a place amongst metaphysicians 161
Reasons for his being thought superficial ibid.
Quotation from, concerning ideas, with Dr Blair’s
remarks thereon, Note R R 272
Precision of his views relative to colours , 273
His definition of “ fine writing” 162
Merits of his style and writings in general ibid.
Argument of, for the immortality of the soul ibid.
Quotation from, on the care with which nature dis¬
seminates her blessings 163
ASpinus, his theory of the principle upon which depend
the phenomena of electricity and magnetism 627
Ages, the middle, intellectual darkness of that period 14
Agriculture, extraordinary demand for books relative to
that subject during the reign of James I. 39
VOL. 1.
Page,
Air, discovery of the elasticity of 481
See also Pneumatics.
Alchemists, views of, regarding heat 640
Algebra, probably invented in Hindustan 440
First introduced into Europe by Leonardo ibid.
The Arabic notation, a previous acquisition from
the East ibid.
Introduced by Gerbert 441
First book printed on algebra ibid.
Account of the algebraical system of Diophantus 591
Resolution of equations higher than the second
degree, and extension of the rule by Cardan ibid.
Merit of Cardan’s discoveries 442
He gave his algebraic rules a poetical dress ibid.
Properties of algebraic equations discovered very
slowly ibid.
Contributions to the science by Recorde, Bom-
belli, Vieta, Girard, Harriot, and others 442-3
See also these heads, and 591-2
Causes why the properties of equations were dis¬
covered so slowly 443
Grand step taken by Descartes in applying alge¬
braical analysis to define the nature and inves¬
tigate the properties of curve lines 444
Analysis of the work in which that discovery is an¬
nounced ibid.
Advantages resulting from the introduction of al¬
gebra into geometry ibid.
It denotes both quantity and the operations on quan¬
tity by means of conventional symbols 445
Remarks on the excellence of this ibid.
Difference in practice between the algebraical and
geometrical method of treating quantity 445
Observations on the use of the signs plus and mi¬
nus 446
4 R
682
INDEX,
Page.
Algebra, extraction of the cube root first discovered by
the Arabians 583
Observations on the algebraical signs 593
Descartes’ contributions to the science 594
Proposal of the Conchoid, by Newton 595
Advance made in the science by the discoveries of
Leibnitz ibid.
Discoveries of De Moivre and Stirling 595
Theory of quadratic factors 596
Account of improvements made in algebra 596-7
Applications of the science, and notice of elemen¬
tary works on ibid.
Alhazen’s explanation of the reason why objects appear
larger near the horizon 505
His work on optics superior to that of Ptolemy 506
Solution of a very difficult problem by ibid.
Merits and defects of his work 507
Allamand, M. his criticism on Locke’s argument against
innate ideas 157
And note T 250
Gibbon’s account of 157
America, notice of the literature of 203
Ampere, elegant experiment of, on the projection of
water through a vertical slit 611
Analysis, infinitesimal, see Geometry, New.
Anaxagoras taught that the moon shines by light bor¬
rowed from the sun 452
Ancillon, M. quotation from, on the doctrines of the
French and German schools of philosophy 186
Apollonius, profound researches of, in mathematics 435
Approbation, moral, see Ethics.
Aquinas, doctrines of 309
Comprehensiveness of his mind 310
Extensive influence of his ethical system 312
His Augustinianism, Note C 418
Quotation from, on charity, Note G 420
On the power of the pope, Note H ibid.
Arago, M. recent discoveries of, in magnetism 629-30
Arbuthnot, Dr, his share in the work entitled Martinus
Scriblerus 242
Estimate of his talents, Note B B B 285
Archimedes, contributions of, to mathematics 435
Discoveries of, in physics 450
The first who applied mathematics to natural phi¬
losophy 451
Discovered some of the first principles of hydrostatics 480
Burning mirrors of 506
Architecture, naval, depends upon the principles of hy¬
drostatics 558
See Hydrostatics.
Areas, see Geometry.
Aristotle, causes which operated in undermining the au¬
thority of 16
By whom most powerfully assailed 25
Passage quoted from, on the principles of rhetoric 54
Remarks on his celebrated comparison of the mind
in its first state to a sheet of white paper 364
Resemblance of Hume’s principles of association
to the views of the Stagyrite, Note T 427
Definition of motion by 450
Page,
Aristotle, definition of light by 505
His views regarding the nature of light 640
Arithmetic, early systems of notation 586
Origin of the denary system generally referred to
India 587
Advantages and gradual extension of this system ibid.
Decimal fractions introduced by Stevinus ibid.
Notation of decimals brought to its utmost simpli¬
city by Baron Napier ibid.
Advantages and disadvantages of the duodenary
scale ibid.
Perfect, prime, and composite numbers 588
Antiquity of magic squares ibid.
Different individuals by whom they were construct¬
ed ibid.
Continued fractions much cultivated during the
eighteenth century 589
Brought to perfection by Euler ibid.
Applications of the theory by ditto ibid.
Applied to the solution of numerical equations by
Lagrange 500
Tables of the powers and products of numbers
made by Hervert, chancellor of Bavaria ibid.
Arnauld, Anthony, the first who struck a blow at the
ideal theory 80
Summary of his doctrine concerning ideas ibid.
Merits of his treatise entitled The Art of Think¬
ing, or the Port-Royal Logic ibid.
Anecdotes of his infancy and old age 81
Association of Ideas, see Ethics.
Astrology exercised an extensive dominion over the
human mind 484
During the dark ages taught in universities ibid.
Astronomy, considerable progress made in, by the an¬
cients 451, 481
Views ofthose who first studied the heavens 481 655
Universally believed by the ancients that the earth
formed the centre of the universe 482
Introduction of the epicycle by Apollonius Per-
gseus ibid.
Application of the epicycles to explain phenomena,
by Hipparchus ibid.
Other epicycles introduced to explain the irregular
motions of the moon and planets ibid.
The system of the heavens became thus extremely
complicated ibid.
Advantages which were derived from it 483
The hypotheses of epicycles, and centres of uniform
motion, accommodated to the state of science ibid.
Dawn of a new era, Copernicus and Tycho 484
Correction of Ptolemy’s tables by Alphonso, king
of Castille ibid.
Purbach and Regiomontanus contributed much to
the advancement of the science ibid.
Publication of Copernicus’s great work, Astrono-
mia Instaurata, containing the discovery of the
earth’s annual and diurnal motion 485
Observation of the heavens by Tycho Brahe 486
See Brahe.
Discoveries of Kepler, see Kepler.
INDEX.
683
Page.
Astronomy, discoveries of Galileo, see Galileo.
Evidence of the Copernican system developed by
the discoveries of Kepler and Galileo 492
Beneficial results of its being established 493
Descartes’ theory of the universe, see Descartes.
First complete system of astronomy in which the
elliptic orbits were introduced, was the Astro-
nomia Philolaica of Bullialdus 495
Hypothetical views contained in that work ibid.
Contributions to the science by Horrox, Ward,
Biccioli, Hevelius, Hooke, Cassini, and Roemer;
see these heads.
First establishment of academies 499
See also Academies.
Figure and magnitude of the earth, see Earth.
Discovery of universal gravitation by Newton 554
See also Newton.
References of the ancients to weight or gravity 557
Clearer views of Copernicus and Kepler 558
Galileo supposed that gravity was a principle belong¬
ing to each of the planets individually, but did
not extend from the one to the other ibid.
Near approximation made to the truth by Hooke 559
Causes of irregularities in the motion of the moon 560
Newton’s determination of the shape of the earth 561
Discovery of aberration of light by Dr Bradley 569
Newton’s theory of the moon, a work of genius al¬
most superhuman 663
Lunar theory first expanded and improved by Ca-
landrini ibid.
Completed by Dr Stewart and Walmesley 664
Examination of the subject by Clairaut ibid.
Astronomical discoveries of Mayer 665
See also Mayer.
Calculations and discoveries of Euler regarding the
motions of the planets 665-6
Appearance of Halley’s comet, and calculations of
Clairaut regarding its retardation 667
Size and consistence of comets, and methods of
discovering their orbits 668
Notice of Lagrange’s discourse on the librations of
the moon 669
Researches of Lagrange and Laplace regarding the
planetary motions ibid.
Laplace’s discovery of the moon’s secular equation 670
Laplace’s complete theory of the motions of Jupi¬
ter’s satellites ibid.
Description of celestial refraction, and the solar and
lunar parallaxes 671
Discovery of a new planet by Herschel 672
Discovery of four small planets 673
Number of stars which passed over Herschel’s field
of view in a quarter of an hour ibid.
Speculations regarding the celestial bodies and the
constitution of the universe 674
Various estimates of the number of comets within
the known extent of our system 675
Observations on the earth’s internal structure ibid.
Observations on the limits of the atmosphere 676
Observations on double and multiple stars 677
Page.
Association of ideas, see Ethics.
Atheism, prevalence of, at Paris in the middle of the
eighteenth century jg^
Influence of, in aggravating the atrocities of the
French revolution 132
Atmosphere, experiments to ascertain the density of, at
different heights ci3
Atomic or corpuscular theory superior to any other con¬
jecture of the ancient philosophers 71
Aubrey, anecdotes of, relative to Lord Bacon, Note F 239-40
Augustin, St, quotation from, asserting the freedom of
the will, Note M M 267
Augustin, genius and character of 309
Aurora Borealis dependent on electricity 623
Avarice, see Ethics.
B.
Bacon, Roger, claims of, to the respect of posterity 454
Pursued the true philosophy amidst ignorance and
error 597
Advancement made by, in optics ibid.
Probable that he made experiments with lenses,
and knew their properties ibid.
Inclination of, to the marvellous 598
Bacon, Lord, his outline of the various departments of
human knowledge imperfect l_3
Objections to his classification of the sciences and
arts according to a logical division of our facul¬
ties 5, 6
His attempt to accomplish this, however, produc¬
tive of great advantages to science 7
His comprehensiveness of mind ibid.
His opinion of Paracelsus 18
His genius peculiarly adapted to the study of the
phenomena of mind 32
His definition of poetry 33
General comprehensiveness of his hints and reflec¬
tions relative to the philosophy of the mind, and
its relation to matter ibid.
Quotation from, on the reciprocal influence of
thought and language 34
Profound reflections of, on grammar ibid.
His ethical disquisitions generally of a practical
nature 35
His opinion that the faculties of man have declin¬
ed as the world has grown older, erroneous ibid.
Character of his Essays 36
Quotation from, on philosophical jurisprudence ibid.
Quotation from, on “ deep and vulgar laws” ibid.
Paramount importance attached by, to the educa¬
tion of the people 38
Character of, by Ben Johnson and others, Note F 239-40
Condorcet’s estimate of his powers 56
His works little read in France till after the pub¬
lication of D’Alembert’s preliminary discourse ibid.
Quotation from, on human reason 58
His admiration of the Epicurean physics 71
Analysis of his Novum Organon 454
684
INDEX,
Page.
Bacon, Lord, low state of physics in the time of 454
Reflections of, on the causes of vagueness and ste¬
rility in all the physical sciences, quoted ibid.
Causes of error enumerated under four heads 455
1. Idols of the tribe, or those causes of error found¬
ed on human nature in general ibid.
2. Idols of the den, or those resulting from indivi¬
dual character ibid.
3. Idols of the forum, or those which arise out of
the commerce or intercourse of society 456
4. Idols of the theatre, or those deceptions which
have taken their rise from the systems or dogmas
of the different schools of philosophy ibid.
Does not charge the physics of antiquity with being
absolutely regardless of experiment ibid.
Reduces the periods during which science had been
cultivated, to that of the Greeks, that of the
Romans, and that of the western nations after
the revival of letters ibid.
Considers the end and object of knowledge to have
been very much mistaken 457
Reverence for antiquity, and the authority of great
names, has much retarded improvement ibid.
Another cause is, that men attend more to what is
grand and wonderful than what is common 458
Exemplification of the nature of induction ibid.
Classes all learning relatively to the three intellec¬
tual faculties of memory, reason, and imagination ibid.
Distribution of knowledge under these heads 459
Explanation of the latent process, and the latent
schematism ibid.
Method of exemplifying the process of induction
relative to the form or cause of any thing 460
Intended that his method should be applied to all
investigations where experience is the guide ibid.
All facts not of equal value in the discovery of truth 461
Enumeration of twenty-seven different species of
facts, with examples of these ibid.
1. Instantice solitaria, which are either examples of
the same quality existing in two bodies other¬
wise unlike, or of a quality differing in two bo¬
dies which are in other respects alike ibid.
2. Instantice migrantes, which exhibit some nature or
property of body passing from one condition to
another, either from less to greater, or vice versa ibid.
3. Instantice ostensivce, or facts which show some par¬
ticular nature in its highest state of power 462
4. Instantice clandestince, which show some power or
quality just as it is beginning to exist ibid.
5. Instantice manipulares, or collective instances of
general facts ibid.
6. Analogous or parallel instances, consisting of facts
between which there is a resemblance in some par¬
ticulars, though great diversity otherwise exists 463
7. Monadic or singular facts 464
8. Instantice comitatus, or examples of certain qua¬
lities which always accompany each other, as
flame and heat ibid.
9. Instantias crucis, with examples from astronomy
and chemistry 465
Page.
Bacon, Lord, great weight of the cxpcrimentum crucis in
matters of induction 466
Division and arrangement of the twenty-seven
classes of facts 467
Remarks on, and examples given, of the various
instantice ibid.
Quotation from, on those experiments which most
immediately tend to improve art by extending
science ibid.
Remarks on the philosophical instruments then
known ibid.
Sagacious anticipation of facts regarding light after¬
wards discovered, quoted ibid.
General estimate of the genius of Bacon 468
Comparison between Bacon and Galileo, quoted
from Hume 469
Not made with justness and discrimination ibid.
Qualities in which he excelled Galileo, as well as
all mankind 470
Views of, regarding the nature of heat 640
His Novum Organon contains a most comprehen¬
sive and rigorous plan of inductive investiga¬
tion 470
Principles upon which may be founded an answer to
the question, How far has this method been car¬
ried into practice ? ibid.
Does not give sufficient importance to the instan-
tice radii 471
Examples pointing out this defect ibid.
Strict method only necessary in certain cases 472
The instantia crucis the experiment most frequently
appealed to ibid.
Example in inquiring into the law by which the
magnetic virtue decreases as we recede from the
poles ibid.
Appears to have placed the ultimate object of phi¬
losophy too much beyond the reach of man 473
In some respects misapprehended the way in which
knowledge becomes applicable to art ibid.
The anticipations of the Novum Organon in some
instances realized by chemical theories ibid.
Bailli, M. his estimate of Leibnitz’s character, as com¬
pared with his contemporaries, Note 11 262
Barlow, Mr, contrivance of, to counteract the local at¬
traction of the needle on board of ship 629
Barometer first applied to the measurement of moun¬
tains by Mariotte 542
Rule of modem practice stated 614
Barrow, Dr Isaac, his unjust depreciation of Ramus 30
Character of, as a philosopher and writer 45
Anecdote relative to his sermons . ibid.
Quotations from, on ethics 46
Notice of his lectures on optics 514
Baxter, Andrew, merits of his Inquiry into the Na¬
ture of the Human Soul 205
Bayle, M. the writer who first led to the misapplication
of the term Spinozism 147
Character of his writings 151
Opinions of the learned at the time of his appear-
ance divided between Aristotle and Descartes 152
INDEX,
685
Page.
Bayle took advantage of this by keeping aloof from
either, and indulging his scepticism 152
Probable reason why he did not notice his favourite
author Montaigne in his Historical and Critical
Dictionary ibid.
Copied the spirit and tone of the old academic
school in composing his dictionary 153
Estimate of his character by Warburton, Leibnitz,
and Gibbon ibid.
His critical acumen unrivalled, but his portraits of
persons defective 154
Causes which contributed to unsettle his opinions ibid.
Early fluctuations of, in his religious creed ibid.
His propensity to treat of indelicate subjects ibid.
Mischievous tendency of his work 155
Benefits which have resulted to literature from his
labours ibid.
His leaning to the system of the Manicheans ap¬
parent, but not real ibid.
Estimate of his genius and acquirements 156
Lessons of historical scepticism to he learned from ibid.
Beattie, Dr, quotation from, on Locke’s views concern¬
ing innate ideas 117
Merits of, as a writer 222
Beautiful, signification of the word, in Plato’s works 301
Benedetto, an Italian, published a work on geometrical
analysis in 1585 436
Benevolence, sources of 367
See also Ethics.
Inward delight arising from the practice of, over¬
looked by Bentham’s followers 380
Benevolent affections, difference between them and
self-love 344
Bentham, Jeremy, quotations from, concerning the law
of nature 92-3
Quoted on the blind veneration of the moderns for
the wisdom of antiquity 95
Character of Bentham and his followers 377
His first work, entitled A Fragment on Govern-
ment, unmatched in acuteness, but too severe ibid.
His tract upon the Hard Labour Bill laid the
foundation of just reasoning on reformatory pu¬
nishment ibid.
The Letters on Usury, a fine specimen of the
exhaustive discussion of a moral or political ques¬
tion ibid.
Estimate of the value of his writings on the sub¬
ject of Jurisprudence 378
Has not reached the most desirable distinction in
Ethical Theory 379
Preaches the doctrine of utility with the zeal of a
discoverer ibid.
Confuses moral approbation with the moral qualities ibid.
His followers have overlooked the inward delight
which arises from virtuous conduct 380
His true and eminent merit is that of a reformer
of Jurisprudence 384
Both he and his followers have treated Ethics too
juridically ibid.
Coincides with the Epicureans in some points ibid.
Page.
Bentham, Jeremy, revolution which his style under¬
went 385
Benefits which his works have derived from the
labours of M. Dumont 386
Berkeley, Dr, refutation of a fallacy contained in a pas¬
sage quoted from his work on vision, Note M 244
His interview with Malebranche 80
Character of his genius 163
Instance of Pope’s veneration for ibid.
His great popularity made metaphysical pursuits
fashionable 164
Chief aim of his great work upon Vision to draw a
line between the original and acquired percep¬
tions of the eye ibid.
His doctrine unknown to the ancients ibid.
Merit of the new theory of vision not exclusively
his own 165
Did not himself lay claim to complete originality
in his views 166
Sense in which he employed the term suggestion 167
Object which he had in view in denying the exis¬
tence of matter 168
Value which he attached to his system of idealism,
and the impression it made 168, 169
His Theory of Vision contains a great discovery
in mental philosophy 349
His speculations not sceptical ibid.
All parties conspired to praise his talents and virtues 350
Attempt of, to reclaim the natives of North Ame¬
rica ibid.
Was made Bishop of Cloyne through the influence
of the Queen ibid.
His patriotism with regard to Ireland ibid.
His general principles of Ethics 351
His diction distinguished for exquisite grace and
beauty ibid.
His reasonings undoubtedly produced the scepti¬
cism of Hume 352
Notice of his Analyst, in which he opposes the
new analysis of Newton 534
Bernier, M., brief notice of his writings 108
Bernoulli, James and John, able coadjutors of Leibnitz
in illustrating the new analysis 520
See also Geometry, New.
Explained some of the most difficult problems of
the infinitesimal analysis 529
John, judgment pronounced by, relative to the con¬
troversy between Newton and Leibnitz 522
Solution of problems by 524
By the introduction of exponential equations he
materially improved a branch of the calculus 529
Works of, and those of his brother James 530
Was the first who enunciated in its full generality
the proposition of the equality of the opposite
momenta 535
Account of his prize essay on the laws of the com¬
munication of motion 537
By his principle of virtual velocities he greatly sim¬
plified the science of equilibrium or statics 603
His principle styled the Conservation of Living Forces ibid.
686
INDEX.
Page.
Bernoulli, John, sketch of his life and character 603
Quotation from his defence of Leibnitz’s Law of
Continuity 133
Had a conviction of this law previously to commu¬
nicating with Leibnitz upon the subject, Note
DD 258
James, account of his original mode of treating the
problem of the centre of oscillation 603
Sketch of his life and character ibid.
Daniel, importance of his treatise on Hydrodyna¬
mics 607
Sketch of his life and character ibid.
Singularly happy in his sober application of ana¬
lysis 608
Clearly established the true theory relative to the
vibrations of a musical chord 612
Berthollet, notice of the process of bleaching invented
t>y 473
Bezout, Stephen, notice of his life and writings 596
Black, Dr, his discovery of latent heat 644
Blair, Dr, quotation from, containing remarks on Addi¬
son’s statement regarding the secondary qualities
of bodies, Note R R 272
Blair, Dr Robert, attempts of, to improve the achroma¬
tic telescope by interposing fluids between the ob¬
ject-glasses \ 635
Bodin, or Bodinus, high character of, as a philosophical
politician 27
His opinion of Machiavel, Note C 233
Absurdity of some of his speculations 28
De la RepuUique, his most important work ibid.
Sorcery imputed to him ibid.
Boerhaave, views of, regarding the distribution of heat 642
Boethius, notice of 307
Bombelli, an Italian mathematician, discoveries of 442
Bonnald, M. de, his estimate of the merits of Condillac 177
Bonnet, Charles, his commentary upon Leibnitz’s theo¬
ry of a Sufficient Reason 131
Was the first to assert that there is a scale of beings
descending from the deity downwards 134, 149
His scheme of necessity similar to that of Spinoza 149
Account of his speculations regarding human nature 170
Agreement of his physiological theory concerning
the union between soul and body with that of
Hartley 171
Coincidence of some of his views with those of Hart¬
ley. See Hartley.
Boscovich, extraordinary talents of 202
Notice of his theory of the constitution of the uni¬
verse 605
Outline of the reasoning on which he supported his
theory of the constitution of the universe ibid.
Account of his life and writings ibid.
Obscured his theory by an infusion of scholastic
metaphysics 60g
It may be regarded as a happy extension of the law
of attraction Ibid.
Bossuet, contrast between him and Fe'ndlon 335
His reply to Fe'ne'lon concerning man being in¬
fluenced by a disinterested love of God 336
Pago
Bossuet, in this controversy, relied mainly on the prin¬
ciple, that as man must desire his own happiness,
he desires every thing as a means towards it 336
Bossut, made a most complete set of experiments on
the resistance of water 609
Bouguer, Peter, reduced the theory of hydrostatics, as
applied to naval architecture, into a form simple
and elegant 608
Sketch of his life and character ibid.
His rule relative to the barometrical measurement
of mountains stated . 614
Measurement of a degree by, in South America 657
Boyle, the Honourable Robert, contributions of, to me¬
taphysical science 139
Improvements made by, on the air-pump 481
Brahd, Tycho, ranks next to Copernicus as an astrono¬
mer of the sixteenth century 485
Perfection to which he brought astronomical instru¬
ments 486
Improvements made by, in the art of observation ibid.
His catalogue of stars ibid.
Discoveries made by, in reference to the irregula¬
rities of the moon’s motion ibid.
Determined atmospherical refraction 487
His observations on the comet of 1570 gave a blow
to the physics of Aristotle ibid.
Rejected the system of Copernicus, and substituted
one of his own ibid.
Apology for this retrograde movement 488
His belief in the predictions of astrology ibid.
Bradley, Dr, discovery of the aberration of light by, 569
Proved that it arose from the progressive motion
of light combined with the earth’s orbital mo¬
tion 570
Bradwardine, archbishop of Canterbury, ethical doc¬
trines held by 399
Browm, Dr Thomas, his Observations on the Zoono-
mia of Dr Darwin, the unmatched work of a
boy in his eighteenth year 394
His Avork on Causation one of the finest models of
discussion in mental philosophy^ ibid.
Brief view of his early life and studies 395
His character, moral and intellectual, highly at¬
tractive ibid.
His prose brilliant to excess 396
The declamatory parts of his lectures excusable in
the first warmth of composition ibid.
His poetical talents rose to the rank of an elegant
accomplishment 397
The intellectual part of his philosophy a complete
revolt against the authority of Dr Reid ibid.
Observations on his application of the word, feeling ibid.
Remarks on his substitution of the term suggestion
for that 0$ association of ideas ibid.
Erred in representing his reduction of Mr Hume’s
principles of association to the one principle of
contiguity as his own discovery 398
He, however, very much enlarged the proof and
the illustration of this law of mind ibid.
In Ethics he followed Butler 399
INDEX.
. Page.
Brown, Dr Thomas, mistake committed by him in re¬
presenting the theory which derives the affec¬
tions from associatiqn as 44 a modification of the
selfish system” 399
Followed Mr Stewart in considering the formation
of conscience as not referrible to those laws of
human nature to which he ascribed every other
state of mind ibid.
Improper use made of the term suggestion 400
Admitted virtuous acts to be universally beneficial 401
Brucker, estimate of his talents, Note AAA 283
Buchanan, George, character of his work entitled De
Jure Regni apud Scotos 31
Budseus, character and works of 29
Buffier, Father, mistake of, relative to Descartes’ theo¬
ry of primary and secondary qualities of bodies 63
Coincidence between his train of thinking and that
of the Scottish metaphysicians who attacked the
scepticism of Hume 215
His writings remarkable for clearness of expression 342
Ethical doctrine of ibid.
Buffon, M. discussions of, concerning the faculties of
man and brutes 177-8
Buhle, M. his account of the appearance of Kant’s
Critique of Pure Reason 190
Remarks of, illustrative of Kant’s argument for free
agency 197
Merits of his History of Modern Philosophy 283
Bullialdus published the first complete system of astro¬
nomy in which the elliptic orbits were introduced 495
Fanciful views contained in the work ibid.
Butler, Dr, quotation from, on personal identity 217
Early promise and education of 343
His rapid advancement to the see of Durham ibid.
His Analogy of Religion to the course of Nature
the most original and profound work of the kind
in any language ibid.
His ethical principles contained in his Discourses ibid.
Profound, original, and comprehensive truths
taught in these ibid.
Ethical principles of, appear to be devoid of errors 345
Defects of, pointed out ibid.
Omits all inquiry into the nature and origin of the
private appetites which appear first in human
nature ibid.
Shows that there are principles of action indepen¬
dent of self ibid.
His reasoning concerning the social affections more
satisfactory than that on the moral sentiments 346
Just statement of the nature of conscience 347
The great defect of his scheme is, that he does not
point out the distinguishing quality of all right
actions ibid.
His style very defective ibid.
c.
Caesar, remarks on his triumph over the nobility 305
Caille, La, measurement of degrees of latitude by 658
687
Page.
Calandrini, the first who expanded and improved the
Newtonian theory of the moon 663
Calculus, differential, see Geometry, New.
Calvin, John, his disregard of the authority of Aristotle 16
His argument upon the subject of usury quoted,
Note B 233
Camera obscura, invented by Baptista Porta 508
Campanella, compared by Leibnitz to Bacon 26
Character of his writings ibid.
Campbell, Dr, comprehensive sense in which he makes
use of the words physics and physiology 9
Merits of, as a writer 220-222
Canton, Mr, was the first to determine experimentally
the compressibility of water 607
Sketch of his life and character as a philosopher ibid.
Capillary action, completest set of experiments made
by Hauksbee on 615
Experiments and explanation of the principle upon
which it depends, by Brook Taylor, Guyton-
Morveau, Dr Jurin, Clairaut, Dr Thomas
Young, and Laplace 616
See also these heads.
Cardan of Milan, a remarkable instance of the union of
great genius with weakness 441
See also Algebra.
Carmichael, Professor, of Glasgow, his opinion of the
works of Grotius and his followers 88
Carneades, estimate which Grotius formed of his ethics 315
Cartesian philosophy, see Descartes.
Casanova, a Venetian, effects produced on whilst in
prison, by a work entitled La Cite Mystique de
Seeur Marie de Jesus appellee d'Agrada, Note R 426
Cassini defined the motions and calculated the places
of Jupiter’s satellites 498
Discovered four satellites of Saturn, and the rota¬
tion of Jupiter and Mars upon their axes ibid.
Catoptrics, see Optics.
Causation, remarks on Hume’s theory of 211
See also Hume.
Malebranche’s views relative to 78
Cavalieri, great advancement made by, in mathematics 436
New and important principle in geometry develop¬
ed by 437
Led to take his peculiar view of geometrical mag¬
nitudes by reading a tract of Kepler’s ibid.
Great benefits resulting from his introducing into
science the idea of quantities infinitely small in
size and infinitely great in number 438
New and remarkable proposition of 439
Celsius, the most philosophical thermometer first pro¬
posed by 643
Cervantes, character of his Doti Quixote 96
Chapelle, M. brief account of 108
Charron, M. the depositary of Montaigne’s philosophi¬
cal sentiments, and the guardian of his posthu¬
mous fame 52
His anxiety to provide an antidote against the er¬
rors of his friend
His name only rescued from oblivion by his con¬
nection with Montaigne
53
ibid.
688
INDEX,
Page.
Chastelet, Madame du, took a part in the controversy-
relative to the force of a moving body 539
Notice of her writings 185-6
Chemistry, vague notions and theories of the first ex¬
perimenters in 453
Its application to pharmacy has conferred a last¬
ing benefit on the world 454
Van Helmont and Roger Bacon’s discoveries ibid.
Treatise of Gilbert on the magnet ibid.
Chord, musical, the principle regarding the vibrations
of, explained 612
Chrysippus, account of 303
Cicero, quotation from, concerning right reason being a
law universally diffused 86
His remarks on Cato’s stoicism, Note A 417
Circle, see Geometry
Attempts to ascertain the ratio of the diameter to
the circumference 583
The incommensurability of, first demonstrated by
Lambert 584
Clairaut laboured indefatigably to establish the theory
of universal gravitation 577 & 664-5
Calculated the amount of retardation which Hal¬
ley’s comet would suffer by the influence of Ju¬
piter and Saturn 578
Gave an analytical investigation of capillary at¬
traction 615
His solution of the problem of the earth’s figure 661
Calculations of the retardation which Halley’s co¬
met would suffer 667
Estimate of his genius and character ibid.
Clarke, Dr, remarks on his controversy with Leibnitz 139
His reasonings regarding the existence of a God 141
Derived his demonstration of the existence of a
God from a passage in Newton’s Scholium ibid.
. Anecdote of, showing the early development of
his reflective powers 142
Principal subjects of discussion between him and
Leibnitz ibid.
Chief glory of, as a metaphysical writer, and cha¬
racter of I43
Remarks on his controversy with Anthony Collins 144
Value of his reasonings against the doctrine of ne¬
cessity I49
Versatility of his genius 327
Sum of his moral doctrines 328
Quotation from Rousseau concerning his argument
for the being of a God, Note M 422
Error into which he fell in employing the term re¬
lation, the pivot of his system 329
Difference between perception and emotion ibid.
Difference between his system and Cud worth’s 331
Account of the controversy in which he was en¬
gaged relative to the force of a moving body 539
Cleanthes, repartee of, in reply to Arcesilaus 304
Clerc, Le, his character of Paracelsus 18
His acquaintance with and respect for Locke 106
Cocceii, Samuel de, merits of his commentary on Gro-
tius’s work Be Jure Belli et Pacis 92
Cold, admits of reflexion as well as heat 646
Coleridge, S. T. mistake committed by, relative to the
Parva Naluralia of Aristotle, Note T 427
Collard, M. Royer, taught the philosophy of Dr Reid at
Paris 388
Remarks on his efforts to render speculative philo¬
sophy popular in France ibid.
Collier, Arthur, notice of his work, in which he denies
the existence of a material world 168
See also Note S S 274
Collins, Anthony, instance of Locke’s regard for, with
remarks on their friendship, Note K K 264
Controversy of, with Dr Clarke 144
His arguments for the doctrine of necessity 148
See also Note M M 265
Remarks on his historical statement relative to the
tenets of the Epicureans and Stoics, Note MM 266
His notion of liberty precisely that of Hobbes, Note
MM 268
Anticipated Dr Jonathan Edwards’ scheme of ne¬
cessity 148
Colour of bodies, mistaken notions regarding, the cause
of much error in philosophy 64
Remarks of Dr Reid on 65
Connection between it and extension and figure ibid.
Of what service its varieties are in distinguishing
bodies 66
Addison’s precise statement of the nature of 273
Colours, primary, resolvable into red, green, and violet 635
See also Optics.
Comets, just notions entertained by the ancients re¬
garding 452
Account of the appearance of Halley’s comet, and
calculations of its retardation 667
Size and consistence of 668
Methods for discovering the orbits of comets ibid.
Compass, first importation of, into Europe 624
See Magnetism.
Condillac, M. opinion of, concerning vision 164
His commentary on Locke differs from the author’s
text in regard to the origin of ideas 173
Adopted Gassendi’s views on that point ibid.
Cause of the popularity of his works ibid.
Commonly follows Locke as his guide when most
successful in describing mental phenomena 174
The most valuable parts of his writings relate to
the action and re-action of thought and language
upon each other ibid.
Instance of the radical error of his system 176
Great influence of his theories in misleading the
opinions of his contemporaries 177
M. de Bonnald’s estimate of his merits ibid.
He, along with Hartley, confused and mutilated
Locke’s doctrine regarding reflection 363
See also Hartley.
In his Treatise on Sensation, he reproduces the
doctrine of Hobbes, with its root, namely, that
love and hope are but transformed sensations 364
In his works there is no distinction between the
percipient and the emotive part of human na¬
ture ibid.
INDEX.
689
ConJorcet, M. quotation from, respecting religious
Machiavelism 03
His estimate of the comparative merits of Bacon,
Descartes, and Galileo 56
His opinion that Descartes is entitled to be called
the father of experimental physics, erroneous ibid.
Conscience, definition of
Formation of, from various elements 405
See also Ethics.
Continuity, law of, see Leibnitz.
Continuity, law of, in mechanics, first maintained by
Galileo 4-6
Copernicus, results of his discovery of the true theory
of the planetary motions 20
Publication of his Astronomia Instaurata 435
Its bad reception at first, and subsequent success ibid.
His discovery fully established by Kepler and Ga-
lileo 488-93
Views of, relative to gravitation 553
Corneille, M. character of his writings, by M. Suard 135
Cotes, Roger, published a valuable work upon the new
analysis of New ton 531
Discoveries of, in mathematics 576
Sketch of his life and character 593
Coulomb on the resistance of fluids 610
Discovered the true law of magnetic attraction and
repulsion 626
Sketch of his life ibid.
Experiments made by, to ascertain the best spe¬
cies of magnets 627
Courage and prudence not identical 379
Observations on 380
Cowley, Abraham, remarks on his ode entitled Destiny,
Note O O 270
Crawford, Dr, views of, relative to heat 655
Crousaz, influence of Locke’s doctrines upon 106
His principles mistaken by Pope and Warburton ibid.
Gibbon’s estimate of his talents ibid.
Cube root, the extraction of, first discovered by the
Arabians 583
See also Algebra.
Cudworth, Dr, quotation from, on moral distinctions 20
He was the first who successfully combated the phi¬
losophical doctrines of Hobbes 43
Quotation from, on the perception of external ob¬
jects ibid.
Influence of his principles on the theories of morals 44
Merits and defects of his intellectual system ibid.
His doctrines identical with those which were after¬
wards taught by Kant 191
Facts relative to his unpublished manuscripts 192
Quotations from, on the twofold origin of ideas 194-5
His intellectual system directed against the atheis¬
tical opinions of Hobbes 325
Merits of the work ibid.
Analysis of his Treatise concerning Eternal and
Immutable Morality 326
Quotation from, on ideas not derived from sense ibid.
Cumberland, Bishop, character of his work Dc Legibut
Naturce Disquisitio Philosophica 46
Cumberland, Bishop, the only professed answerer of ^
Hobbes ^23
Notice of his work on the law of nature ibid.
Fundamental principle of his ethics 324
His attempt to explain what the moral faculty is ibid.
Cuvier, M. animadversion of, on Bonnet’s definition of
moral liberty, Note M M 268 *
Cycloid, see Geometry.
D.
D Alembert, AI. his classification of the sciences incor¬
rect j
Vagueness of his views relative to the origin of the
sciences ibid.
His unsuccessful delineation of an encyclopaedical
tree 3
Quotation from, on his division of human know-
le(]ge 3-4
Objections to this 5_g
His definition of poetry 4
His identification of imagination with abstraction 6
His modesty in propounding his theory 7
His encyclopaedical tree only an amplification of
Bacon’s sketch 7_8
Character of his preliminary discourse on the divi¬
sion of the sciences 10
Quotation from, on the bias of the mind produced
by habits acquired in infancy 64
His mistaken view of the nature of space and time 142
Continued researches of, in the department of the
mathematics 573
He expanded the process of integration relative to
'partial differences 600
Notice of his treatise on Dynamics 604
Sketch of his life and character ibid.
He converted dynamics into an absolute analyti¬
cal science 605
He treated the subject of hydrodynamics with his
usual originality and depth 608
Dalgarno, profound remark of, Note D 248
Notice of his works, Note B B B 284
Darwin, Dr, answer to his Zoonomia, by Dr Thomas
Brown 394
Davies, Sir John, quotation from his poem on the Im¬
mortality of the Soul, Note Y 253
Deffand, Madame du, remarks of, on the origin of our
knowledge 72
Degerando, M. remarks of, on the Kantian schools of
philosophy 200-1
Deity, Descartes’ argument for the existence of the 59
Dr Clarke’s and Sir Isaac Newton’s reasonings re¬
garding the existence of 140-1
Our idea of, associated with those of infinite space
and endless duration 141
Impossibility of finding proper language to de¬
scribe the nature and attributes of 147
D’Holbach, Baron, the probable author of the Systeme
de la Nature 181
4 s
690
INDEX.
Page.
Ddlambre, measurement of a degree of latitude by 659
Sketch of his life and scientific character 658
Deluc, experiments of, on the barometrical measure¬
ment of mountains 614
Democritus entertained the true view regarding the
spots on the moon 452
Den, idols of the, see Bacon.
Desaguliers contributed much to electrical science 617
Descartes, estimate of his character by Condorcet 56
Not entitled to be called the father of experimental
physics, but of the experimental philosophy of
the mind 67-8
His clear and precise conception of reflection 57
Was not the first who taught the immateriality of
mind ibid.
The articles of common belief which he proposed
to subject to severe scrutiny 59
His own existence the only thing which appeared
to him incontrovertible ibid.
Substance of his argument for the existence of the
Deity ibid.
Unjustly persecuted as an atheist 60
The first who saw clearly that our idea of mind is
not direct, but relative ibid.
His division of phenomena into two entirely distinct
classes, the first step in the science of mind 61
Contrast which his speculations afford to those of
Hobbes and others ibid.
His remarkable precocity of genius ibid.
He spent the years commonly devoted to academi¬
cal pursuits as a soldier ibid.
His chief glory consists in having pointed out the
true method of studying the mind 62
Principal articles of his philosophy ibid.
His claims to the discovery of some leading ideas
ascribed to later metaphysicians 63
Progress of his doctrines in England 64
His application of the word substance to the mind
censured. Note I 242
Characteristic merits of his Meditations, NoteK 243
Coincidences between passages in his woi'ks and the
Novum Organon, Note L 244
Principle upon which the experimental philosophy
of the human mind is founded 67
The errors into which he fell equal to his merits 68
His theory relative to the connection between soul
and body ibid.
His reply to Gassendi relative to extension and
figure, Note N 245
His theory of the primary and secondary qualities
of bodies 63
See also Note N 245
Reasons why he fixed on the pineal gland, or cona-
rion, as the local habitation of the soul 69
His notions on these points now universally rejected ibid.
Remarks on his never mentioning the name of Ba¬
con in his works 70
Erroneously called a Nullibist by Dr Henry More,
Note O 246
His merits as a writer, Note P 247
Page.
Descartes misunderstood in his doctrines concerning
ideas 109
See also Note X 251
His assertion of the freedom of the will, Note M M 267
Supposition of Coleridge that he anticipated Hobbes
in his discourse on Method erroneous, Note T 428
Application of algebraic analysis to define the nature
and investigate the properties of curve lines 444
Analysis of the work in which the discovery is con¬
tained ibid.
In philosophizing he pursued a course opposite to
that recommended by Bacon 468
He assigned to experiment a subordinate place in
his philosophy ibid.
Comparison of his system with that of Bacon 469
The theory of motion indebted to him 478
His notion regarding the preservation of the same
quantity of motion in the universe ibid.
Pointed out the nature of centrifugal force ibid.
The first who attempted to reduce all the pheno¬
mena of the universe to the same law 493
Account of his theory of vortices 494
His claim to having discovered the true law of re¬
fraction ill founded 511
His theory of light, and attack on by Fermat 512
Discoveries of, in optics 512-13
He gave a full explanation of the rainbow, as far
as colour was not concerned 513
Way in which he estimated the force of a moving
body 538
The publication of his geometry an epoch in the
history of analytical science 594
Account of his mathematical discoveries ibid.
He adopted the instantaneous propulsion of light as
a fundamental principle in his dioptrics 631
Diderot, M. quotation from, on the formation of ideas 109
His erroneous estimate of Locke’s discoveries re¬
garding ideas 109-11
Quotation from, on liberty and necessity 150
A zealous abettor of atheism 181
Quotation from, showing that he seems to have
thought differently at times, Note T T 274
Differentials and variations, distinction between 600
See also Geometry, New.
Diamond, from its refracting powers, determined by
Newton to be inflammable 550
Diophantus of Alexandria, work of 441
Account of his system 591
Dioptrics, see Optics.
Dolland, John, sketch of his life 633
His grand discovery of the achromatic telescope 634
Dominis, Antonio de, discovery of, respecting the rainbow 510
Dryden, John, compared Hobbes to Lucretius in
haughtiness 322
Dufay detected the vitreous and resinous electricities 617
Dumont, M. benefits which the works of Bentham have
received from his editorial labours 386
Dynamics, grounded on the composition of forces 602
Principle regarding oblique forces first distinctly
stated by Leonardo da Vinci ibid.
INDEX.
_ . Page-
Dynamics re-discovered by Stevinus 602
Expansion of the science by Huygens 603
Newton’s extension of centrifugal forces to curve
lines in general ibid.
Principles of virtual velocities and conservation of liv-
ingforces ibid.
The first original work on the science composed
by Euler ibid.
James Bernoulli’s original mode of treating the pro.
blem of the centre of oscillation ibid.
Supposed to have led D’Alembert to the discovery
of the general principle on which he framed his
treatise of Dynamics 604
Advantages which the science derived from Mac-
laurin’s method of expounding forces by co-ordi¬
nates ibid.
Original principle of Segner relative to a moving
body which has received combined impulsions ibid.
Dynamics converted into an analytical science by
D’Alembert 605
Principles on which the science depends ibid.
Outline of the reasoning on which Boscovich sup¬
ported his theory of the constitution of the uni¬
verse ibid.
General estimate of that theory 606
E.
Earle, Bishop, his description of a sceptic 51
Earth, figure and magnitude of 501
No correct information of, derived from anti¬
quity ibid.
Attempt of Eratosthenes of Alexandria to measure
an arc of the meridian ibid.
First modern measurement made with any degree
of accuracy, by Snellius of Holland 502
Measurement of an arc by Norwood, Fernel, and
Picard ibid.
The first observation, that a pendulum beats slower
at the equator, made by M. Richer 503
Explanation of, by Newton and Huygens ibid.
Determination of the form of the earth (that of an
oblate spheroid) by Newton 561
Errors committed by Cassini and Fontenelle in mea¬
suring an arc of the meridian 569
View taken by Maclaurin regarding the figure of 656
Measurement of degrees of latitude under the equa¬
tor, and within the arctic circle 657-8
Measurement of a degree of latitude by La Caille 658
Measurement of degrees by Delambre, Mechain,
Biot and Arago, Colonel Mudge, Colonel Colby,
Colonel Lambton 659
Various estimates of the amount of depression at
the poles 660
Accurate measurement of a perpendicular to the
meridian, made by Colonel Brousseaud ibid.
Estimate of the earth’s figure by the vibrations of
a pendulum ibid.
Convertible pendulum of Captain Kater ibid.
691
Page.
Earth, Mr Ivory’s estimate of the earth’s ellipticity 661
Analytical investigations to determine the earth’s
figure, by Clairaut, Legendre, and Laplace ibid.
The demonstration completed by Ivory ibid.
Discussions regarding the figure of the earth led to
an examination of the theory of the tides 662
Speculations as to the internal structure of the earth 675
Economists, the French, formation and objects of that
sect 183
Education of the people, paramount importance attach¬
ed to, by Lord Bacon 38
Effects of, used as an argument against man’s free
agency. Note N N ^ 269
Edwards, Dr Jonathan, his scheme of necessity antici¬
pated by Anthony Collins 148
The only metaphysician of whom America has yet
to boast 203
High moral and intellectual character of 340
Where he confines himself to created beings, and
his theory is intelligible, it coincides with that of
universal benevolence 341
Makes virtue consist in a love of order ibid.
Electricity, observations on, by Gilbert 544
Began to assume a scientific form about the begin*
ning of the eighteenth century ibid.
Accidental discovery of the conducting and non-con¬
ducting powers of bodies 544, 617
Considerable advances made in the science by
Hauksbee 617
Fundamental facts arranged by Desaguliers ibid.
The two opposite kinds of electricity detected by
Dufay ibid.
Invention of the Leyden phial ibid.
Experiments on the rapidity of electrical commu¬
nication 618
Franklin’s explanation of phenomena ibid.
The identity of electricity and lightning proved al¬
most simultaneously in France and America 619
Conductors to buildings suggested by Franklin, but
slowly adopted ibid.
Comparative advantages of terminating the con¬
ductors with points or knobs 620
Estimate of the speed of lightning ibid.
Observations on conductors ibid.
General inefficiency of these protectors ibid.
Estimate of the loss of life by lightning ibid.
Attempts made to prevent the formation of hail
by erecting thunder-rods 621
Principle upon which the action of the electrophorus
depends ibid.
Causes by which the electrical state of bodies is
modified ibid.
Uses of the electrometer 622
Benumbing power of the torpedo dependent upon
electricity, proved by Walsh ibid.
Sparks drawn from the Silurus electricus ibid.
This science has greatly contributed to the advance¬
ment of chemistry ibid.
Discovery of galvanism by Galvani 623
Volta’s invention of his/i/e ibid.
692
INDEX.
Page.
Electricity, voltaic pile only a modification of tlie elec¬
trical battery 623
Identity of electricity and magnetism proved 624
Theories proposed by iEpinus and Cavendish ibid.
For Magnetism, see that head.
Electrometers, uses of 622
Elliot, Sir Gilbert, letters of, to Mr Hume concerning
his theory of causation 287
Emerson, William, account of his life and writings 597
Empedocles taught the true theory of lunar light 452
English language, its superiority over the French as an
instrument of thought 229
Epicurean physics, Bacon’s admiration of 71
Gassendi’s partiality for 70
Epicureans and Stoics 302
See also Ethical Philosophy.
Epicurus, character of 303
Respect paid to his system by his followers 305
Definition of motion 450
Explanation of light 605
Equations, see Algebra.
Homogeneous, explanation of 529
Erasmus, effect of his writings in accelerating the Re¬
formation 15
Eratosthenes of Alexandria, attempt of, to measure an
arc of the meridian 501
Ethical philosophy, Bacon’s disquisitions on 35
Hobbes’s ethical principles 42
Cudworth’s system of ethics 44
Little attention paid to, at the era of the Res¬
toration 46
Quotation from Barrow on ibid.
Dr Law’s system of ethics 171-2
Division of the subject 296-7
Dr Paley’s views of the moral sense 298
Ancient ethics, retrospect of 299
Ethical philosophers of Greece 300
Account of Plato’s writings 301
Account of Aristotle’s works 302
Epicureans and Stoics, philosophy of ibid.
Characters of Epicurus and Zeno 303
System of the Stoics 304
Estimate of the practical philosophy of Greece 305
Literature of Alexandria 306
Scholastic ethics 307
Jewish and Mahommedan writers 308
Augustin’s system 309
Doctrines of Aquinas, Scotus, and Bradwardine ibid.
William of Ockham’s and John Gerson’s doctrines 310
Estimate of the genius of Aquinas ibid.
Notice of the Mystics 311
Temptations and errors of the scholastic age 312
Nominalists and Realists ibid.
Extensive influence of Aquinas’s system 312-13
General estimate of scholastic ethics 313
Spanish writers on this subject 314
See also Note L. 422
Grotius’s views of Carneades’s principles and argu¬
ments 316
Hobbes’s principles, see Hobbes.
Page.
Ethical philosophy—Reason and passion, difference
between the acts resulting from 331
A regard for self considered the first principle which
prompted men and other animals to activity 342
Dawn of a better theory of ethics ibid.
Difference between self-love and the benevolent af¬
fections 344
Definition of the moral sentiments 346
Moral faculty of conscience explained ibid.
Avarice not a principle of human nature 366
Analysis of the principle of hoarding ibid.
Analysis of self-love ibid.
Origin of benevolence 367
Pity one of the grand sources of benevolence ibid.
Origin of the sense of justice ibid.
Breach of the rules of justice crime, observation of
them duty ibid.
Remarks on the performance of duty ibid.
Power of association in regard to remorse 368
In the language of all mankind, the moral faculty is
uniformly spoken of as one ibid.
Sentiment of moral approbation ibid
Observations concerning right and wrong, duty and
virtue ibid.
Conscience constantly tends to act on the will and
conduct of the man 369
Comparative merits of various religions 374
Essential to ethics that they should contain prin¬
ciples recognised by men of every religion ibid.
Remarks on honour, cowardice, and duelling 375
Remarks on the social affections and the malevolent
passions 380
Definition of humility '381
Observations on the love of praise 382
The existence of that passion shows the power of
disinterested desire ibid.
General reflections on utility and virtue ibid.
The frequent appeal to utility tends to lessen the
intrinsic pleasure of virtue 383
Evils that would result from a slavish adherence
to the principle of utility ibid.
Direct object of ethics 384
Intimately connected with law ibid.
Remarks on Stewart’s ethical theory 393
Principal object of conscience to govern our volun¬
tary exertions ibid.
Manner, remarks on, as an index of character and
disposition 395
Dr Thomas Brown’s views relative to sympathy and
conscience 399
Defect of the term association 401
Defect of the term suggestion ibid.
Relation between virtue and utility ibid.
Beneficial tendency an essential quality of virtue 402
Conscience an essential part of human nature ibid.
The laws of God founded on the principle of pro¬
moting the happiness of his creatures ibid.
Man incapable of solving the question why evil ex¬
ists under the government of a good and bene¬
volent Being ibid.
INDEX.
693
Page.
Ethical philosophy—Virtue must be loved for its own
sake before progress can be made in it 403
There are primary pleasures, pains, and even appe¬
tites, in human nature 405
Number of underived principles not determined ibid.
The theory that supposes the smallest number of
ultimate principles to be preferred ibid.
Three conditions which it must be subject to ibid.
The philosophical world divided into two sects; the
partisans of the selfish principle, and the advo¬
cates of benevolence ibid.
Analogy derived from the material world relative
to secondary desires or pleasures 40G
The latter as real, and in some instances as inde¬
structible, as primary ones ibid.
Their origin ibid.
Analysis and definition of conscience 407
Operation of this power in reference to vice ibid.
Anger, properly regulated, becomes a sense of justice ibid.
~FovmdXion o? magnanimity ibid.
Conscience the result of all the moral sentiments 408
Private and social feelings become blended with
conscience 409
Coincidence of morality with individual interest ibid.
The formation of conscience from various elements
contributes to give it the appearance of simplicity
and independence ibid.
Difference between the passions and conscience 410
Conscience rarely contemplates the distant welfare
of sentient beings; the elements of which it is
composed do ibid.
Operation of conscience in reference to religious
systems 411
Review of Scotch ethical philosophy ibid.
The Scotch moralists avoided the selfish system ibid.
Dr T. Brown revolted against the Scotch system ibid.
Ethical philosophy of Germany ; Kant 412
See also Kant.
Observations on the two systems of ethics; that
which considers conscience as supreme, and that
of the partisans of underived principles 413
The relation of conscience to will 414
Conscience composed of emotions and desires, which
contemplate dispositions dependent on the will ibid.
Etymology, value of Leibnitz’s speculations on 136
See also Note I I 262
Euclid collected the elementary truths of geometry 435
Laid the foundation of optics and catoptrics 504
His work, as a book of instruction in geometry, un¬
fit for the present day 584
Euler, supremacy of, as a mathematical analyst 578
The real founder of the theory of continued fractions 589
Various applications of the theory, made by ibid.
His extension of the properties of the angular sec¬
tions 596
His invention of a method to determine particular
integrals 599
Euler, his explication of the principles of partial differ-
ences 600
He composed the first original work on dynamics 603
Pagv.
Euler, contributions of, to the science of dynamics 608
Theory of, regarding the principle of magnetism 626
Attempt of, to destroy the coloured margin of a fo¬
cal image 633
Calculations and discoveries of, regarding the plane¬
tary motions 665-6
Exhaustions of the ancients, see Geometry.
Eye, structure of, first analysed by Kepler 509
F.
Feeling, observations on Dr T. Brown’s application of
the term 397
Fenelon, the beauty of his writing prejudicial to his re¬
putation as a philosopher 82
Characteristic excellence of 83
His Adventures of Telemachus, and Dialogues of
the Dead ibid.
On commerce, and the necessity of permanent laws ibid.
His political views developed, chiefly in his Direction
pour la Conscience d'un Roi ibid.
Quotation from, »n liberty of conscience ibid.
Contest between him and Bossuet on the pure love
of God 335
Amiable and exalted character of ibid.
Causes of his being distrusted by Louis XIV. ibid.
His generous defence of Madame Guy on 336
His banishment from court, and condemnation by
a bull of Pope Innocent XII. ibid.
Fergusson, Dr, remarks of, on the history of language 176
His encomium on Dr Reid’s works 219
Fermat, his method of drawing tangents to curves 445
Views of, regarding refraction , 512
Fernel, measurement of an arc of the meridian by 502
Fichte, speculations of, on the meaning of the pronoun I 200
Filangieri, the Chevalier de 237
Florentine academicians the first to employ a dense
fluid instead of air in constructing thermometers 640
Fluxions, discovery of, by Newton 519
See also Geometry, New.
Fontenelle, M. noted maxim of 23
Reasons for classing him with his early contempo¬
raries 156
Account of his early productions 15?
His History of the Academy of Sciences, and
Eloges of the Academicians, the basis of his fame 158
Unrivalled powers of, as a writer of eloges ibid.
Effects of these two works on the improvement of
youth 159
Aspired to be the philosopher of the Parisian circles ibid.
His character 160
Voltaire’s eulogy of ibid.
Forum, Idols of, see Bacon, Lord.
Fractions, decimal, introduced into Europe by Regio-
montanus 435
See also Algebra and Arithmetic.
Continued, Euler the real founder of 589
France, progress of, in literature and philosophy during
the seventeenth century 49
694
INDEX
Page.
France—Addison’s censure of the French writers of his
day 55
Sterility of invention in the metaphysical writers
of, between the time of Descartes and Condillac 172
Disposition of the French philosophers of the
eighteenth century to push their theories to ex¬
tremes 180-81
Literature of the eighteenth century divided into
two epochs, Note U U 277
The writers of, on the philosophy of mind excel in
painting manners, and observing varieties of in¬
tellectual character 184
French and German schools of philosophy con¬
trasted 186-7
Franklin, Eenjamin, his theory of electrical phenome¬
na described 618
Estimate of his talents ibid.
Proved the identity of electricity with lightning 619
Fraunhofer improved achromatic glasses 635
Discovered that the coloured spaces of the spectrum
are subdivided by numerous lines 636
Superiority of the flint-glass produced under his in¬
spection ibid.
G.
Gadolin of Abo, consequences of his introducing the
term specific heat into science 645
Galiani, M. 1’Abbe, his views regarding free agency 197
Galileo, his application of the law of continuity confined
to physics, Note D D 258
Comparison between him and Bacon, by Hume 469
Points in which Bacon excelled all other men 470
Ilevolution which he effected in science 474
Analysis of his treatise Della Scienza Mechanica 475
Gave not only the theory of the lever, but also that
of the inclined plane and screw ibid.
Discovered that heavy and light bodies descend with
equal velocity in vacuo 476
That the great and the small vibrations of the same
pendulum are performed in the same time ibid.
And that the acceleration of falling bodies is uni-
foriii ibid.
Determined the path described by a projectile to
be a parabola ibid.
Estimate of his genius 477
His discoveries in mechanics contributed to prove
the truth of the Copernican system ibid.
Construction of the telescope 490
Discovers two of Jupiter’s satellites 491
Observations and discoveries on the other planets ibid.
These called down the censure of the church, be¬
ing supposed to be adverse to Scripture 492
Brought before the Inquisition, and made to recant ibid.
His discoveries, with those of Kepler, established
the Copernican system ibid.
Results of this 493
Generalization of the property of the lever by 535
His views regarding gravitation ' 559
Page.
Gallois, Abbe', Fontenelle’s apology for his opposition
to the new geometrical analysis 534
Galvani, account of his discovery of galvanism 623
Modes of constructing a galvanic battery ibid.
Claims of the Germans to this discovery ibid.
Gases, methods of determining the relative densities of 611
Gassendi, contrast between him and Descartes 70
Diligently studied the works of Bacon ibid.
His partiality for the Epicurean physics 71
His argument against Descartes now considered
as frivolous ibid.
His claims to the discovery of the doctrine concern¬
ing the origin of our knowledge considered 72
Advantages he possessed over Descartes in re¬
nouncing the doctrine of innate ideas 73
His merits as a philosopher and writer ibid.
Memorial of his orthodoxy as a Roman Catholic di¬
vine quoted, Note R 248
Notices of some of his most distinguished follow¬
ers 107, 108
Illustration of his doctrine of ideas by the authors
of the Port-Royal Logic 109
Possessed great learning and profound understand¬
ing 495
Explained the connection between the laws of mo¬
tion and the motion of the earth ibid.
First observed the transit of a planet over the sun’s
disc ibid.
Gauss, curious discovery of, in geometry 585
His discussion of the general theory of quadratic
factors or impossible roots 596
Gay, Mr, account of his dissertation concerning virtue 170
Suggested to Hartley the idea of association 364
Genovesi, notice of his writings 202
Gentilis, Albericus, merits of, as the precursor of Gro-
tius 25-6
An apologist for Machiavelli, Note C 233
Geometry, the inventive and elegant genius of the
Greeks beautifully displayed in 435 & 580-81
Contributions to the science by Euclid, Archime¬
des, and Apollonius 435
Geometrical analysis one of the most beautiful in¬
ventions in the mathematics ibid.
Advanced by the works of Regiomontanus ibid.
Introduction of trigonometry and decimal frac¬
tions ibid.
Werner’s contributions to the science 436
Benedetto, Maurolycus, and Cavalieri ibid.
See also these heads.
Explanations of the exhaustions of the ancients ibid.
The idea of quantities infinitely great and small
first introduced into the science by Kepler 438
Generation of solids by means of ibid.
Kepler’s view of the composition of circles ibid.
Observations on lines and areas ibid.
Purpose served by the doctrine of quantities infi¬
nitely small in size and infinitely great in number 439
Of the cycloid ; difficulty in determining who first
discovered its area ibid.
Discovery claimed by Torricelli and Roberval ibid.
INDEX,
695
Geometry—Properties of the cycloid
\ aluable results of the introduction of algebra 444
Analysis of Descartes’ Geometria ibid.
Fermat’s method of drawing tangents to curves 445
Difference between the geometrical and algebraic
method of treating quantity ibid.
High value set on the geometrical construction of
problems by the Greeks 583
Attempts to ascertain the relation of the diameter
to the circumference ibid.
Incommensurability of the circle first demonstrat-
ed by Lambert 584
Best elementary works on ibid.
Elementary plane rests on the combined properties
of the straight line and the circle ibid.
Instruments required in solving the common pro¬
blems 585
Best manner of treating lines and curves of the
second order ibid.
Improvement made in trigonometry during the
last century ibid.
Account of Descartes’ discoveries 594
Geometry, New, state of the sciences when Newton arose 518
The problem of the quadrature of the circle solved
by Newton ibid.
Account of Wallis’s Arithmetic of Infinites ibid.
Discovery of Fluxions by Newton 519
Revealed to various philosophers before being pub¬
licly made known ibid.
Newton the first, and Leibnitz the second, inven¬
tor of the new infinitesimal analysis 520
Controversy relative to the discovery 521
Feelings displayed on both sides ibid.
Problems proposed by the parties for solution 522
Produced much rancour amongst philosophers 523-4
Steps by which the mathematical sciences were
prepared for the new analysis 525
This analysis made its first appearance in the me¬
thod of exhaustions ibid.
Advanced a step in Cavalieri’s method ofindivisibles ibid.
Descartes’ application of algebra to the geometry
of curves ibid.
Method of Cavalieri improved and extended by
Torricelli, Barrow, and others ibid.
Lastly appeared Newton and Leibnitz, who made
their discoveries separately 526
Rejection of the higher powers of the differences of
the variable quantities by Leibnitz, liable to ob¬
jection ibid.
The two problems into which the analysis, thus
constituted, is divided 526-8
Manner in which Newton proceeded 526
The fluxionary and differential calculus, two mo¬
difications of one general method 527
The introduction of the analysis greatly enlarged
the domain of the mathematical sciences ibid.
Problems of maxima and minima, to which it was
extended ibid.
Is peculiarly adapted to physical researches 528
Problem of integration explained 528-9
Page.
Geometry, New—Calculus first made publicly known by
Leibnitz 530
Writers by whom it was explained and improved 531-2
Its firm establishment in Europe 532
English mathematicians fell behind the French in
the integrations of differential or fluxional equa-
tions 533
Opponents of the new method ibid.
Contributions to the science by Cotes, Taylor,
Bradley, Maclaurin, and others 576, 598-9
The Italian mathematicians contributed to the ad¬
vancement of the higher calculus 599
Euler’s method of determining particular integrals ibid.
Extension of the modern calculus by that of partial
differences ibid.
Application of it by Euler and D’Alembert 600
Calculus of variations, the last great accession to
the higher analysis ibid.
Distinction between differentials and variations ibid.
On the integration of differential equations ibid.
Modifications of the theory of the infinitesimal
calculus ibid.
The method of prime and ultimate ratios preferred
by Newton in the Principia 601
Improved by Robins and Lauder ibid.
Method of derivative functions ibid.
Works on prime and ultimate ratios 602
Gerbert, a monk of the Low Countries, first introduced
into Europe the Arabic notation 441
German philosophy contrasted with that of France 186-7
Censure of the terms employed by the philoso¬
phers of Germany 219-20
Language, value of, in philosophical discussions 295
Ethical philosophy of, see Ethics.
Gerson, John, doctrines held by 310
Gibbon, Edward, his estimate of the talents of Crousaz,
and account of his own studies in 1775 106
Propensity of, to be indecent in his writings 154
Gilbert, notice of his treatise on the magnet 454, 625
Made an enumeration of the bodies which can be
rendered electrical by friction 544
Discoveries made by, in magnetism 625
Girard, Albert, a Flemish mathematician, made disco¬
veries in algebra 443
Analysis of his character, and notice of his disco¬
veries 592
Glanvill, Joseph, character of his work entitled Scepsis
Scientifica 42
His illustration of Descartes’ doctrines 64
God, see Deity.
Goniometry, the name under which Euler’s Arithmetic
of Series is cultivated in Germany 597
Government, monarchical, improved in modern times 24
Grace, controversy of Malebranche regarding 74
Grammar, Bacon’s profound reflections on 34
Gravitation, discovery of, by Newton 554
See also Newton.
Gray, Mr, his estimate of the merits of Rousseau’s Emile 184
Gray and Wheeler, their discovery of the conducting
and non-conducting powers of bodies 544, 617
696
INDEX,
Page.
Greece, remarks concerning the ancient philosophy of 9
Gregory, Dr John, remarks of, concerning the union be¬
tween mind and matter 224
Gregory, James, a profound and inventive geometer ;
account of his work Optica Promota 513
Gregory, David, sketch of his life, works, and character 581
Grimaldi, a Jesuit, his discovery of the diffraction or
inflection of light 514
Grimm, Baron de, his remarks on a maxim of Fonte-
nelle 23
Observations of, on liberty and necessity 150
See also Note P P 270
An abettor of atheism 181
Grotius, influence of his work De Jure Belli et Pads 38, 84
Period when the writings of, began to be generally
studied 46'
His opinion of Raimond de Sebonde’s principles 52
Scope and character of his treatise De Jure Belli et
Pads 85, 89
Undertaken at the request of his learned friend
Peireskius 85
Gave rise to a professorship at Heidelberg, for
teaching the law of nature and nations ibid.
Difficulty of ascertaining the precise object aimed
at in the systems formed upon his principles ibid.
Arrangement of his views under heads 86
His fundamental principle ibid.
In theory he was aware of the distinction between
natural and municipal laws 91
Merits of Samuel de Cocceii’s commentary on his
great work 92
His History of the Netherlands, Note B 417
His treatise on the Laws of War and Peace con¬
tains the best account of the general principles
of morals prevalent in Christendom after the
close of the schools 315
Remarks of, concerning the ethical principles of
Carneades 316
Guardian, the, quotation from a paper in 64
Guericke, Otto, invention of the air-pump by 480
Guyton-Morveau, unsuccessful attempt of, to ground
the theory of electric attraction on the prin¬
ciple of capillary action 615
Guyon, Madame, notice of her writings 335
When falsely charged with crime, and imprisoned,
her cause was espoused by Fe'ndlon 336
H.
Habits, Malebranche on the formation of 77
Hadley, Mr, the first who got a reflecting telescope
made for his private use 632
Gave a new impulse to astronomy by the inven¬
tion of the quadrant of reflexion ibid.
Hail, attempts made to prevent the formation of, by
erecting thunder-rods 621
Hakewill, Dr George, on the decline of intellectual
power in modern times, Note F 240
Page.
Halley, physics greatly indebted to 542
Voyage to St Helena, with additions to the cata¬
logue of stars ibid.
He was the first to prove evaporation sufficient to
maintain the flow of springs and rivers 543
Voyages of, to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans ibid.
His account of the winds peculiar to the tropics ibid.
Sketch of his life, works, and character 581
Demonstrated that at equal heights in the atmo¬
sphere the density of the air diminishes in a con¬
tinued proportion 613
His hypothesis explanatory of magnetism 625
Account of his voyage to find the longitude at sea
by the variation of the compass 626
Discovery of, regarding comets 667
Harpe, La, his eulogy of Condillac 116
His definition of reflection ibid.
Harrington, merits of his Oceana 47
Harriot, Thomas, improvements by, in Algebra 443
Observed the spots on the sun scarcely a month
later than Galileo ibid.
Hartley, Dr, doctrine of, concerning the origin of our
knowledge 115
Causes which led him to produce his Theory of Hu¬
man Nature 170
Coincidence between his speculations and those of
Charles Bonnet 170-1
Dr Priestley’s opinion of his merits 171
His Observations on Man distinguished by the
union of originality with modesty 362
Disfigured by the affectation of mathematical forms ibid.
State of physics at the time of its appearance ibid.
The author stopped short of materialism 363
He, along with Condillac and Bonnet, mutilated
Locke’s doctrine regarding reflection ibid.
Agreed with Condillac in referring all the intellec¬
tual operations to the association of ideas ibid.
Coincidence with Hobbes in part of his doctrine ibid.
His principal fault rash generalization ibid.
Superior to Condillac 364
Derived the idea of association from Mr Gay ibid.
Views of, respecting the love of money 365
Estimate of his talents, and merits and defects of
his work ibid.
Views of, concerning gratitude, veneration, and
love 369
His system regarding disinterestedness superior to
systems prior to Butler and Hutcheson 370
Value of that part relating to the rule of life ibid.
Hauksbee, the best experimenter of his time 617
Heat, effects of, on the organic world 639
Doctrine of, now advanced to the rank of a science ibid.
Bacon’s and Aristotle’s opinion of its nature 640
Views of the alchemists ibid.
Invention of the thermometer by Sanctorio ibid.
The air thermometer of Drebbel ibid.
Methods of graduating the tube of thermometers ibid.
Newton’s and Reaumur’s modes 641
Fahrenheit’s thermometer 642
INDEX,
697
Page.
Heat—Boerhaave’s views as to the distribution of heat 642
Vague speculations of Wolfius ibid.
Dr Marline the first judicious writer on heat ibid.
Construction of the thermometer proposed by Celsius 643
Discovery of the congelation of quicksilver ibid.
Discovery of latent heat by Dr Black 644
Leslie’s observations on the increase and diminution
of temperature by the chemical union of bodies ibid.
Experiments of Wilcke and Lavoisier 645
The introduction of the term specific heat ibid.
Determination of the absolute zero ibid.
Philosophical views of Dr Crawford ibid.
Experiments and views of Scheele 646
Invention of the pyrometer 647
A thermometer to measure the higher degrees of
heat still a desideratum ibid.
Description of metallic and register thermometers ibid.
Invention of the differential thermometer 648
The instrument first intended to serve as an hy¬
grometer, but modified so as to form a photometer 649
Various applications of the hygrometer 650
This thermometer employed to ascertain the mode
of the propagation of heat amongst bodies 651
Prodigious elasticity of heat ibid.
Reflection and radiation of 652
Description of the pyroscope 653
Invention and description of the refrigerator ibid.
Change produced in the mechanical arts by the ap¬
plication of heat 654
Invention of Papin’s Digester ibid.
Gradual improvement of the steam-engine ibid.
Helmont, Van, contributions of, to chemistry ibid.
Helvetius, remarks on his extension to metaphysical
subjects of Leibnitz’s law of continuity 135
Quotations from his work De VEsprit concerning the
origin of ideas 136
His theory of the inferiority of the souls of brutes 180
His observations on modifications of genius 185
Henry \ II. the laws of, eulogised by Lord Bacon 37
Herschel, Dr, discovered that the hottest part of the
spectrum lies beyond the red ray 636
Discovery of a new planet by 672
Instance of the power of his telescope 673
Hervert, Chancellor of Bavaria, notice of his tables of
the powers and products of numbers 590
Hevelius of Dantzic opposed the application of the te¬
lescope to astronomical instruments 497
Hipparchus, contributions of, to the science of astro-
nomy 482
Hobbes, philosophical principles of 40
Arrogant confidence of his character, Note H 241
Estimate of human nature involved in his funda¬
mental doctrine 41
His ethical interwoven with his political system 42
Addison’s opinion of his writings ibid.
Their extensive influence 43
His antagonists ; Cudworth ibid.
Coincidence between his followers and the Antino-
mians 44
VOL. I.
Page*
Hobbes—His remark upon the comparative utility of
reading and thinking 45
His principles traced by Cudworth to the remains
of the ancient sceptics ibid.
Obsolete as a writer on the law of nations 90
His doctrine regarding the origin of our knowledge
coincided with that of Gassendi 114
Servility of his political principles 144
Quotation from, on necessity, Note M M 268
Account of his early studies, and works in general 317
Causes to which he owed his influence ibid.
Arrogance and dogmatism of his character 318
His style a permanent foundation of his fame ibid.
His system moral, religious, and philosophical, de¬
pended upon his political principles 319
Debasing character of his ethical system ibid.
He does not distinguish between thought aniS. feeling 320
Errors which have crept into moral philosophy from
this original confusion 321
No trace of the moral sentiments to be found in his
writings 322
He represents a deliberate regard to personal ad¬
vantage as the sole motive of human action ibid.
His low estimate of human nature agreeable to the
court of Charles II. ibid.
Compared by Dryden to Lucretius in haughtiness ibid.
Antagonists who rose up against him 323
Honour, observations on the law of 375
Hooke, Robert, laid claim to Huygens’s discovery of the
application of the pendulum to clocks 479
First applied spiral springs to watches ibid.
Opposition of, to the optical discoveries of Newton 551
Made a near approach to the truth relative to uni¬
versal gravitation 559
Horner, Francis, extract from a letter of his, relative to
Machiavelli 235-6
Estimate of his character 387
Horrox calculated the transit of Mercury in 1631, and
accurately foretold the time 495
He was amongst the first who appreciated the dis¬
coveries of Kepler ibid.
Died very young, but left behind him matter which
Newton adopted ibid.
Hume, David, his estimate of Machiavelli 24
On the improvements made in modern times on
monarchical government ibid.
On the statutes of Henry VII. 37-8
On the influence of the civil war of 1640 48
Anticipated by Malebranche in his reasoning on
cause and effect 78
Appearance of his Treatise of Human Nature 206
Objects of the work 207
The execution did not correspond with the design ibid.
Effects produced on the literature of his country
by the publication of the Treatise 208
His division of the objects of knowledge ibid.
Admitted only the existence of impressions and
ideas 209
His aim was to establish universal scepticism ibid.
4 x
698
INDEX.
Page.
Hume carried his sceptical mode of reasoning further
than an}r modern philosopher except Bayle ibid.
H is refutation of the attempts to demonstrate self-
evident truths 210
Benefits which have resulted from his reasonings ibid.
Examination of certain conclusions contained in his
theory of causation v 211
His distinction between the sensitive and cogitative
parts of our nature 212
His demonstration that our belief in the permanen¬
cy of the laws of nature is not founded upon any
process of reasoning ibid.
Extract concerning the course of nature and the ;
succession of our ideas ibid.
His conclusion regarding causation did not affect the
doctrines it was brought forward to subvert 213
Different opinions regarding the laws of nature ibid.
His reformation of the philosophical vacabulary ibid.
His remarks on cause and effect quoted ibid.
Letter of, containing an account of his Theory of
Causation, Note C C C 286
Light in which his scepticism was viewed by Sir
Gilbert Elliot and others 215
Elis answer to the arguments of the former ibid.
Instance of his sincerity in the search after truth 216
Opinion of his essays entertained by Butler 217
His notion that only the images of external things
are perceived by the mind 219
His treatise unfavourable to the progress of meta¬
physical science 221
Virtuous private character of, represented in ATac-
kenzie’s story of La Roche 352
General scope of his Treatise of Human Nature 353
Anticipated in some of Ins doctrines, Note Q, 425
Absurdity of universal scepticism 354
Considered his Inquiry concerning the Principles
of Alorals as the best of his writings ibid.
His style distinguished by elegant perspicuity ibid.
Did not imitate Voltaire, as Dr Johnson asserted ibid.
The Inquiry affords the finest specimen of his style 355
Chief merit of the work ibid.
Distinguishes justice from other parts of morality ibid.
Treats vice with too much indulgence ibid.
In his Inquiry he failed to bring domestic fidelity
prominently forward 355
It is also disfigured by paradox ibid.
His general doctrine stated 357
His Inquiry entitled to rank with the greatest ethi¬
cal treatises in our language ibid.
Account of his last illness, by Dr Cullen, Note P 424
Humility, remarks concerning 331
Hutcheson, Dr Francis, the father of metaphysical phi¬
losophy in Scotland 204, 349
Chief object of his writings 205
Tried his strength by writing letters to Dr Clarke 348
Coincided with Butler in maintaining that there are
disinterested affections, and a distinct moral fa¬
culty, in human nature 348
Superior in style to Butler, but inferior in origi¬
nality and philosophical courage ibid.
I’age.
Hutcheson was the first who entertained just notions
of the formation of the secondary desires 348
Had a steadier view than Butler of the nature of
conscience, which he called a moral sense ibid.
Errors into which he fell 349
Huygens, discoveries of, regarding motion 479
The first who explained the relation between the
length of a pendulum and the time of its least
vibrations ibid.
Applied the pendulum to regulate the motion of
clocks 479, 58I
His solution of a problem relative to the oscillation
of a pendulum 479
His discovery of the ring of Saturn, and one of the
satellites of that planet 496
Astronomy indebted to him for an exact measure¬
ment of time ibid.
Micrometer discovered by ibid.
Other adaptations of the telescope to astronomical
purposes suggested by 497
Elis theory of'light 514
Explained by it the double refraction of Iceland
spar 515
Sketch of his life and character 581
Greatly improved dynamics 602
Hydraulics, see Hydrostatics.
Hydrodynamics, fundamental principles of 607
Important treatise on, by Daniel Bernoulli ibid.
Subject discussed by D’Alembert and Euler 608
The chief difficulties of the theory discussed by
Lagrange ibid.
The theory of the motion of fluids has not arrived
at more precise conclusions than those assigned
to it by Newton ibid.
Theoretical and practical treatise of Bossut 609
Experiments of Smeaton ibid.
Afethod of investigating the resistance of fluids ibid.
Experiments of Robins, Borda, Hutton, and Cou¬
lomb, on the velocities of moving bodies 610
Observations on the flow of water and air through
Pffies ibid.
Ampere’s experiment on the nrojection of water
through a vertical slit 611
Elygrometer, invention and description of 649
Various applications of the instrument 650-1
Hydrostatics, same of the first principles of, discovered
by Archimedes 439
Discovery of Stevinus ibid.
The pressure of the atmosphere and the thermome¬
ter discovered by Torricelli ibid.
Discovery by the same, of the principles of hydrau¬
lics ibid.
Discovery of the air-pump by Otto Guericke ibid.
Improvements made on the air-pump by Boyle 481
Principles of 608
Elaborate work of Euler upon ibid.
The theory reduced into a simple form by Bouguer ibid.
Outline of this theory 609
Capillary action, see that head.
Hypotheses, the true use of 101
INDEX.
699
Iceland crystal, double refraction of 514
Ideal theory, by whom first assailed 80
Berkeley’s theory of idealism 165
The object of Dr Reid to refute it 218
Idealist, meaning of the term as employed in philosophy 190
Ideas, M. Allamand’s criticism on .Locke’s argument
against innate ideas 107
See also Note T. 250
Arnauld’s doctrines 80
Cud worth’s views 194-5
Diderot’s erroneous estimate of Locke’s discove¬
ries 109-11
Gassendi’s views, see Gassendi.
Hume’s doctrine 209
Helvetius’s views 136
Kant’s opinions, Note X X 279
Leibnitz’s views 123
Locke’s views 109
Shaftesbury’s opinions 118
Voltaire’s views, Note X 251
Remarks concerning, Note Q 247
Identity, personal, Dr Butler on 217
Imagination, D’Alembert’s identification of, with ab¬
straction, incorrect 6
The province of, narrow when compared with that
of observation and reason 79
Addison’s papers on the pleasures of 161
Pleasures of, in most cases originate in association 368
India, metaphysical and ethical remains of 203
Influx, definition of the word, Note A A 254
Instinct, signification of the term 388
Paley’s view of 226
Integration, problem of 528
Intellectual system of Cudworth 44
Italy, notice of the metaphysical -writers of the eigh¬
teenth century belonging to 202
Imaginative and reasoning powers exhibited by the
natives of 203
Ivory, Mr, his estimate of the earth’s ellipticity 661
Completed the demonstration of the earth’s figure ibid.
J.
Jaquelot, M. quotation from, illustrative of Leibnitz’s
theory of pre-established harmony 124
Johnson, Dr, his opinion of Rochefoucauld’s maxims 54
Jonson, Ben, his eulogium on Lord Bacon’s forensic elo¬
quence, Note F 239
His connection with Bacon ibid.
Jupiter, planet of, see Astronomy.
Jurisprudence, philosophical, Bacon on 36
Natural, system of Grotius 36
Origin of the law of nature and the law of nations 89
Opinions of different philosophers concerning 90
Alliance established between the law of nature and
the law of nations productive of good ibid.
Page-
Jurisprudence, third and distinct idea of 91
Abstract code of laws unphilosophical in design 93
Reasons why the Roman law ought to be fixed on
as the groundwork of our speculations ibid.
Estimate of the value of Bentham’s writings on 378
Justice, circumstances which distinguish it from other
virtues 87
The rules of, not enumerated by the ancient philo¬
sophers ibid.
Sense of, see Ethics.
K.
Karnes, Lord, merits of his Elements of Criticism 221
Kant, the leading idea of his philosophy analogous to
what is expressed by Cudworth 43
Appearance of the Critique of Pure Reason, and
idea annexed to the title 189
Success of the work 190
Madame de Stael’s account of it ibid.
Identity of Kant’s doctrine with that of Cud-
worth 191, 194-5
His remarks on Hume’s theory of causation 193
Hume’s theory gave a new direction to his inqui¬
ries into speculative philosophy 194
His claims to originality not well founded ibid.
Remarks on general ideas not derived from expe¬
rience, Note X X 279
His argument for free will 196
View of his principle called practical reason 197
The impression which his great work made in Ger¬
many accounted for by Reinhold 198
Decline of his system 199
Schools which have emanated from it 200
Opponents of his system 201
Evil which has arisen from his writings, Note AAA 283
His ethical system framed to protect principles
placed upon an insecure foundation 412
The performance of duty the chief end of man in
his system ibid.
Explanation of what is implied by practical reason 413
Kater, Captain, pendulum of 660
Kepler, an account of his tract on stereometry 438
He introduced into geometry the idea of quanti¬
ties infinitely great and small ibid.
Generation of solids by means of ibid.
Conceived circles to be composed of an infinite num¬
ber of triangles ibid.
The laws of, discovered at the expense of great la¬
bour and ingenuity 463
Change which astronomy underwent in his hands 488
Early studies of , ibid.
Observed that the orbits of the planets are in planes
passing through the sun ibid.
Discovered the most favourable time for observing
the planets, the ellipticity of the planetary orbits,
and that in any two planets the squares of the
700
INDEX.
Page.
times of the revolution are as the cubes of their
mean distances from the sun 489
Kepler’s discoveries at first not duly appreciated 490
Exploded the idea of Copernicus, that the earth had
a third motion ibid.
Perceived the inertia of body, and considered all
motion as naturally rectilineal ibid.
Was the first to analyse the structure of the eye 509
Views regarding gravitation 558
King, Archbishop, account of his work on the Origin of
Evil 170
Knowledge, human, division of the objects of, by Ba¬
con and by Locke 1-3, 8
Causes which combined to accelerate its progress
after the revival of letters 16-19
Its diffusion has improved the science of government 24
L.
Lagrange, his application of continued fractions to the
solution of numerical equations 590
His invention of the calculus of variations the last
great accession to the higher analysis 600
Sketched the method of derivative functions 601
Discussed the chief difficulties which encumber the
theory of hydrodynamics 608
Brilliant calculations of, regarding the lunar and
planetary motions 669
Gave a general solution of the problem of disturbing
forces 670
Lambert, character of, as a philosopher 189
First demonstrated the incommensurability of the
circle 584
Notice of his treatise entitled Photometria 638
Lambton, Colonel, his measurement of a degree of lati¬
tude in India 659
Landen, John, account of his life, writings, and contribu¬
tions to mathematics 601
Language, improvement of, tends to acceleratefthe ad¬
vancement of science and learning 39
Speculations of Rousseau and others regarding the
origin and history of 174-7
Inadequacy of the words of ordinary language for
the purposes of philosophy 294
Laplace on the advantages of learned societies 47
Citation from, concerning cause and effect, with
remarks thereon 286
His calculation of probabilities 224
His analysis of capillary attraction 616
His discovery of the moon’s secular equation 670
Gave a complete theory of the motions of Jupiter’s
satellites ibid.
Law, Dr, account of his notes to his translation of Arch¬
bishop King’s work on the Origin of Evil 170
Account of his ethical works 171-2
Law, Roman, the study of, contributed to accelerate hu¬
man improvement on the revival of letters 14
Veneration in which it was held by Leibnitz and
others 92
Page.
Law, Roman, reasons why it ought to be fixed on as a
work in framing a code of laws 93
Law of nature and of nations, see Jurisprudence,
Natural.
Leibnitz, his estimate of the merits of Descartes,
Hobbes, Bacon, and Campanella 26
His objections to Malebranche’s principles relative
to cause and effect 73
His high veneration for the Roman law 92
His misapprehension of Locke’s doctrine concern¬
ing the origin of knowledge 113
The school of which he was the founder strongly
discriminated from that of Locke 122
His comprehensive correspondence led to a more
extensive literary commerce amongst nations 123
Coincidence between him and Cudworth concern¬
ing innate ideas ibid.
Doctrines which he directed the force of his genius
to establish 124
Pre-established harmony, summary of the theory ibid.
Objections to this doctrine 125
Contrast between the visionary speculations of,
and the doctrines of Locke 126
His theory of pre-established harmony led to the
scheme of optimism ibid.
Character of his work entitled Theodictza, 126-7
Difference between his optimism and that of Plato 126
His scheme of optimism leads to the annihilation of
all moral distinctions 127
Zealously propagated the dogma of necessity, but
opposed materialism 128
Uniformly speaks of the soul as a machine purely
spiritual ibid.
Injurious influence of his doctrine of fatalism 129
Circumstances which gave occasion to his Theodiccea ibid.
We are indebted to this work for the reasonings of
Dr Clarke against fatalism ibid.
His account of the principle of the sufficient rea¬
son 130
His theory of monads explained ibid.
See also N ote C C 255
Vagueness of his idea of a sufficient reason 131
Commentary of Charles Bonnet upon ibid.
His principle of a sufficient reason legitimately
adopted by mathematicians ibid.
This principle, when applied to the phenomena of
the material universe, identical with the maxim,
that every change implies the operation of a cause ibid.
Motives which induced him to substitute the word
reason for cause 132
Objections urged against a sufficient reason may be
extended to his law of continuity ibid.
Vagueness of the language in which his theory
is enunciated, favourable to its popularity with
a certain class of thinkers ibid.
John Bernoulli’s defence of 133
Opposition of Maclaurin and Robins to ibid.
Extension of his principle to mind as well as to
matter, and the consequences 134
INDEX.
701
Page.
Leibnitz—Charles Bonnet’s remarks upon this prin-
dpie 134
The metaphysical argument in proof of the law of
continuity unsatisfactory. Note D D 257
Remarks on the states of rest and motion of bodies,
Note I) D ibid>
Citation from, respecting the history of the law of
continuity, Note D D 258
Citations from, concerning the existence of the soul
after death, Note E E 259
His mind, in reasoning upon metaphysical subjects,
misled by the bias it early received from geome¬
trical studies ibid.
Extension of his principle by Helvetius 135
Remarks on his thoughts regarding the etymologi¬
cal study of languages 136
See also Note I I 262
Remarks on his assertion, that all proper names
were at first appellatives, Note F F 2G0
Versatility and power of his genius 137
Instance of his credulity 138
See also Note G G 261
Value of his speculations in accelerating the ad¬
vancement of knowledge ibid.
Estimate of his character by Bailli, Note 11 262
Great variety of subjects upon which he wrote ibid.
Remarks on his controversy with Dr Clarke 139
His notions regarding space and time 142
Small progress of his tenets in France 186
Contrast between the form of his writings and the
character of his mind 337
Favourite and often-repeated maxim of ibid.
His ethical principles contained in a preface to a
collection of documents on law ibid.
Citations from, on ethics 337
See also note N 422
Approximated to the truth on the subject of disin¬
terested affection 338
Egregious fallacy contained in a statement of 338-9
Account of the correspondence between him and
Newton relative to geometry 520
He was the second inventor of the new infinitesi¬
mal analysis, and ignorant of its being previously
discovered by Newton ibid.
Rapid spread of his geometry on the Continent ibid.
Greatly advanced by the Bernoullis ibid.
An account of the controversy relative to the new
calculus 521
His rejection of the higher powers of the differ¬
ences of the variable quantities objectionable 526
Explanation of the principle of a sufficient reason 536
Sometimes carried his principle too far 537
Statement of the law of continuity ibid.
Not the first to discover this law, although the first
to regard it as a principle in philosophy ibid.
His error consisted in pushing the metaphysical
principles of science into extreme cases ibid.
His demonstration of the force of moving bodies 539
Comparison between him and Newton 571
Notice of his algebraical discoveries 595
Page.
Leonardo, a merchant of Pisa, first introduced algebra
into Europe 440
Leonardo da Vinci first distinctly stated the principle
of the effects of oblique force 602
Letters, the period from which the revival of, may be
dated 15
The Reformation a natural consequence of ibid.
Effects of, on the advancement of physical, and
also of metaphysical, moral, and political sci-
ence ]6_20
L’Hopital, Chancellor de, character of 26
Published a work of merit on the new analysis 530
Leviathan, anecdote relative to Hobbes’s work so en¬
titled, Note H 241
Leyden jar, invention and description of 618
Liberty and necessity, see Necessity.
Line's, see Geometry.
Light, Aristotle’s definition of, 505
See also Optics.
Polarization of, discovered by Malus 636
Light-houses, principles of optics applied to the im¬
provement of ibid.
Lightning identified with electricity, see that head.
Locke, John, his division of the objects of human
knowledge 8
Identity of his division with that generally adopted
by the ancient philosophers of Greece 9
Less decided than Descartes respecting the essen¬
tial distinction between mind and matter 57
Citation from, on the varieties of mind 76
Warburton’s opinion of his system of philosophy 80
The publication of his Essay on Human Understand¬
ing a new era in the history of philosophy 100
Some account of his early studies and pursuits 101
Circumstances which occasioned his undertaking his
great work 102
Merits of the several books of the Essay ibid.
Causes of the partial inconsistencies which may be
detected in the work 103
Desirous that his work should be judged as a whole,
and not by isolated passages ibid.
Had diligently studied the metaphysical writings
of those who preceded him ibid.
Peculiar character of his style of composition 104
Reception which his work met with ibid.
Alarm which it excited at Oxford ibid.
Steps there taken to prevent its being read 105
Warmlv received in the University of Cambridge ibid.
And in the Scottish Universities ibid.
See also Note S 249
Its success on some parts of the Continent 105
The merits of his Essay first appreciated in Switzer¬
land v 106
Influence of, on Crousaz ibid.
Diffusion of his principles in France 108
Found their way into the French drama, Note U 250
His constant appeal to reason, an antidote against
the errors involved in some of his conclusions 108
Has been mistaken by many of his successors, on
two fundamental points: 1. On the origin of
702
INDEX,
Page.
our ideas; and, 2. On the power of moral per¬
ception, and the immutability of moral distinc¬
tions 109
Locke—Diderot’s limited view of his doctrine regard¬
ing the formation of ideas 110
Quotations from, concerning ideas resulting from
sensation, and those from reflection 110-12
The use which he makes of the term reflection not
peculiar to himself, Note Y 253
Does not uniformly employ the word reflection in
the same sense 111
Passage of his works from which apparently the mis¬
understanding amongst his followers has arisen 112
Uniformly represents sensation and reflection as
distinct sources of knowledge 113
Misinterpretation of his doctrine sanctioned by
Leibnitz ibiib
Zeal displayed by, against innate ideas, accounts
for the mistakes committed by his followers 115
Mistaken view of his argument on the origin of
our ideas served as a groundwork for the whole
metaphysical philosophy of the French Encyclo¬
pedic U6
Sense in which his reasonings concerning innate
ideas have commonly been understood 117
Quotation from, containing a disavowal of the con¬
clusion which some of his commentators drew
from his reasonings ibid.
Lord Shaftesbury’s attack on him ns
Remarks on his tracts respecting Education, and the
Conduct of the Understanding 119
Letter of, to Sir Isaac Newton ibid.
Defects of his intellectual character 120-21
Probable reasons why some of the maxims in his
tract on Education are severe 121
Rash assertion of, regarding the intercourse carried
on between mind and matter 125
Principal individuals by whom attacks were made
on his Essay during his lifetime, Note Z 253
Contrast which his doctrines presented to the vision¬
ary speculations of Leibnitz 126
Injustice done to, by Leibnitz, Note B B 255
Remarks of, concerning the scale of beings 136
His argument in favour of free will I43
Quotation from a letter of his to Anthony Collins,
Note K K 264
Effects of his writings in promoting the cause of
education, Note N N 269
Quotation from, on the perception of colour and
figure 166
Logarithms, invention of, by Napier of Merchiston 447
See also Napier.
Louis XIV., character of the court of 53
Lowth, Dr, his opinion of the common English transla¬
tion of the Bible 18
His opinion of Hooker’s style 39
Lucretius, notice of his philosophy 186
Luther, Martin, his contempt for Aristotle 16
Remarkable credulity of, Note E 238
Mosheim on his theological system 21
M.
Page.
Machiavelli, moral and intellectual character of 22
Principles of, as laid down in his Prince ibid.
Practical effects of his precepts ibid.
Real intentions of, in writing his Prince, Note C 234
His maxims have been subsequently refuted 23
No friend to the priesthood ibid.
Hume’s estimate of his character 24
Surpassed all his contemporaries in genius 25
Letters of 235-6
Machiavelism, religious, bad effects of, on philosophy
and morals 23
Machin, John, mathematical talents of 534
Mackenzie, Henry, has affectingly delineated Hume’s
character in the story of La Roche 352
Maclaurin, his steady opposition to Leibnitz’s law of
continuity ] 33
Contributed to the advancement of science by ex¬
pounding Newton’s Principia 576
His method of expounding forces by co-ordinates
advanced the science of dynamics 604
His view of the figure of the earth 656
Magnet, Gilbert’s Treatise on the 454
Magnetism, phenomena and origin of 624
Importation of the compass into Europe 625
First notice of its variation ibid.
Account of the discoveries made by Dr Gilbert ibid.
Halley’s hypothesis ibid.
Variation of the compass proposed by Halley as a
method of finding the longitude at sea 626
Experiments to determine the relation of the in¬
tensity of the magnetic force to the distance of
its action ibid.
True law discovered by Coulomb ibid.
Nature of the principle itself still a mystery ibid.
Theories of various philosophers ibid.
Generally supposed to be a fluid ibid.
The magnetic virtue resides near the surface 627
Coulomb’s experiments to ascertain the substances
most susceptible of magnetism ibid.
Account of the variation of the needle at different
places ibid.
Changes to which it is liable 628
The dip of the needle less changeable than its de¬
clination ibid.
At every place it depends nearly on the latitude ibid.
Direction of the needle affected by local attraction
on board of a ship ibid.
Invention of Barlow to prevent this 629
Two principles on which magnetic phenomena may
be explained ibid.
Discoveries of Arago and other philosophers 630
Malebranche, Father, quotation from, on the secondary
qualities of bodies 63
Also on the sensations produced by objects, and the
judgment thereupon formed 64-5
Assertion of, that mistaken judgments relative to
objects of sense result from original sin 65
Cause which led him to study philosophy 74
INDEX.
xvfalebranche, character of his' work, The Search after
Page.
Truth
703
Page.
74
Imagination the chief characteristic of his genius ibid
His disposition to blend theology and metaphysics
the cause of his being now neglected 74.5
Controversies on grace in which he was engaged 74
His boldness and freedom of inquiry when treating
of subjects purely philosophical ° 75
Sagacity of, displayed in his observations concern,
mg sorcery ibid.
His powers of observation and discrimination ibid.
Excellence of his strictures on men and manners 76
Citation from, illustrative of this ibid.
Estimate of his character 7^
Developed the fundamental principle of Hartley ibid.
Remarks on the formation of habits ibid.
Views of, relative to cause and effect 73
Objections of Reibnitz to his principles 78-9
Reasons which led him to conclude that we see
all things in God 79
Coincidence between his speculations and those of
some Hindu philosophers ibid.
Resemblance of, to Berkeley, and interview with T9, 80
Warburton’s opinion of his talents go
Advancement which he made towards the true the¬
ory of vision jgg
Anecdote of, evincing his belief in the Cartesian
system regarding the soul 181
Quotation from, on the love of universal order 339
Remarks on the passage 340
Was the first who adhered to the principle that vir¬
tue consists in pure intentions ibid.
Value of his observations relative to a religious so¬
ciety and an established church ibid.
Malus, M. his discovery of the polarization of light 638
Manfredi, sketch of his life and scientific character 599
Manner, an index of character and disposition 395
Marie, a French Capuchin, gave the first notions of
photometry 037
Mariotte the first who proposed to apply the barometer
to measure the heights of mountains 542
Experiments and conclusions of 613
Martin, Dr, the first judicious writer on heat 642
Maseres, Baron, services rendered to science by 593
Mascheroni of Bergamo, mathematical talents of 585
Materialists of the last century 57
Fallacy of their reasoning exposed 58
Mathematics, ancient works on, preserved in religious
establishments during the dark ages 434
Language of, must always consist of two parts 445
See Geometry and Algebra.
Maupertuis the first mathematician of eminence wdio
taught the Newtonian philosophy in France 577
Maurolycus of Messina, contributions of, to mathema¬
tics 430
Distinguished for his skill in optics 508
Formed a right judgment of the defects of short¬
sighted and long-sighted eyes ibid.
Explained why light admitted through a small hole
of any shape, and received upon a plane, w’as al¬
ways round, and through a large one always of
the shape of the aperture 5pg
Supposed that light acquired colour by refraction
in passing through the water drop of the rainbow 50S
Mayer framed a standard body of lunar tables 579 & 665
Changed the sextant into a circle, and produced the
repeating circle ggg
Mechain, measurement of a degree of latitude by 659
Sketch of his life and scientific character ibid.
Mechanics, small progress made in the science before
the end of the sixteenth century 474
Guido Ubaldi the first who went beyond Archi¬
medes * M •,
ibid.
Stevmus the first who determined the force neces¬
sary to sustain a body on a plane inclined at any
angle to the horizon jbid
Discoveries of, relative to a chain laid on an inclin-
ed plane ibid>
Revolution effected in the science by Galileo 475
He was the first wrho discovered the principle of vir¬
tual velocities jbjd.
Analysis of his treatise Della Scienza Mechanica ibid.
Discoveries of Torricelli, Descartes, and Huygens;
see those heads.
The principle of virtual velocities enunciated 535
The science advanced by Varignon’s Projet d'une
Nouvelle Mtcanique 535—(j
The Principia Mathematica of Newton marks an era
in the history of human knowledge 530
Improvements in mechanics by Leibnitz ibid.
Manner in which the force of a moving body was
estimated by Descartes and Leibnitz 538
The scientific world divided into two parties ibid.
Account of the controversy which ensued 539
Termination of the controversy 540
Principles relative to the force of moving bodies v ibid.
Both sides partly in the right 541
The controversy as to the vis viva ibid.
The question whether the quantity of the vis viva
remains always the same 542
Enumeration of the problems solved in the times
of Newton and Leibnitz ibid.
Contributions to science by Halley 542-4
Medicine, the study of, calculated to develope the powers
of the understanding 101
Melanchthon, his sanction of the doctrines of the peripa¬
tetic school 10
Citation from, on moral distinctions 20
Metaphysical, misapplication of the term 228
Influence of metaphysical studies ibid.
Metaphysicians in all ages have made the nature and
essence of the soul a subject of discussion 57
Those of the last century belong either to the
class of Gassendi or that of Descartes 114
Metaphysics, little advance made in, before the seven¬
teenth century 20
Progress of, during the eighteenth century 227
Change in the meaning of the word since the pub¬
lication of Locke’s Essay ibid.
Benefits resulting from the study of 22<i
704
INDEX.
Page-
Metaphysics—The term affords a specimen of all the
faults which the name of a science can combine 294
Micrometer, discovery of, by Huygens 496
Microscope, invention of, by Galileo 510
Mill, Mr, in treating of benevolence, has overlooked the
inward delight which springs from virtuous conduct 390
Derives his theory of government from the fact
that every man pursues his interest 385
Remarks on his Essay on Education ibid.
Mind and matter, phenomena of, entirely different 10
Remarks on the relation subsisting between 124-5
Bacon’s reflections on the philosophy of mind 32-4
Its advancement accelerated by the improvement
of language 39
Mistaken application of the word substance to,
Note I 242-3
Moivre, Abraham de, account of his life and discoveries 595
Moliere, M. his proposed translation of Lucretius 107
Monads, Leibnitz’s account of 130
See also Note C C 255
Montaigne, M. merits of, as a writer on the philosophy
of mind 49
Possessed little scientific knowledge 50
Predisposed to scepticism ibid.
Carefully educated by his father ibid.
Character of his scepticism 51
Radical fault of his understanding ibid.
His Apology for Raimond de Sebonde ibid.
He died a Christian 51
His opinion of Sebonde’s Theologia Naturalis 52
Poetical description of, by Voltaire 53
Reasons why the name of, should be united with
that of La Rochefoucauld 55
Effects of his maxims on the higher orders 56
Monge, Gaspard, account of his life and writings 585
Moon, gravitation and revolution of 560
Theory of, by Newton, a work of genius almost
superhuman 663
Montesquieu, M. de, the main object of his work on
The Spirit of Laws 94
His claim to the idea of connecting jurisprudence
with history and philosophy ibid.
His speculations directed to the practical conclu¬
sion pointed out by Bacon 95
His Spirit of Laws gave the first blow to the study
of natural jurisprudence ibid.
Quotation from, respecting natural religion, Note
UU
277
M oral philosophy, little advance made in, prior to the
seventeenth century 20
Philosopher, difficulties he labours under 294
More, Sir Thomas, character of, Note A 232
Dr Henry, his assertion that Descartes was a Nul-
libist. Note O 246
Mosheim on the theological system of Luther 21
Motion, see Mechanics.
Mudge, Colonel, measurement of a degree of latitude
by 659
Music, principles upon which it is founded 612
Mystics, account of the 311
N.
Pa**
Napier, Baron, of Merchiston, invention of logarithms 447
Displayed depth and originality of mind ibid.
Ingenious supposition on which he proceeded ibid.
Unrivalled merit of the inventor 448
Talents of, as a geometrician ibid.
Brought the notation of decimals to its utmost sim¬
plicity 587
Nature, the word used by philosophers for the name of
God 279
Necessity, zeal of Leibnitz for the doctrine of 128
Locke’s opinion 143
Anthony Collins’s views 148
See also Note M M 265
Schemes of, connected with atheism in modern
philosophy, Note M M 266
Opinion of Hobbes concerning, Note M M 268
Definition of the terms liberty and necessity, Note
M M ibid.
Remarks on the argument for, drawn from the di¬
vine prescience, Note N N 270
The Baron de Grimm and M. Diderot upon 150
See also Note P P 270
Nerves, Quesnai’s views regarding the vibrations of 171
Newton, Sir Isaac, remarks on some queries of 69
His discoveries were first publicly taught in Scot¬
land, Note S 249
Letter of, to John Locke 118
Exhibited in his Principia and Optics an exemplifi¬
cation of the logic of Bacon and Locke 139
Effects of his discoveries 140
Contributions of, to metaphysics ibid.
Method by which he ascertained the nature of the
rainbow 4?2
State of the sciences when he appeared 518
Problem of the quadrature of the circle ibid.
The binomial theorem ibid.
The principle of fluxions 519
Did not publish his discovery till forty years after
it had been made ibid.
Newton the first and Leibnitz the second inventor 520
Controversy regarding the discovery 521—2
Solution of problems proposed by the friends of
Leibnitz 521-3
Manner in which he proceeded respecting the cal¬
culus 526
Manner in which he integrated fluxionary equations 529
Works of, on the new analysis 530
Account of his tract upon the quadrature of curves 531
His partiality for the synthetical method ibid.
Merits of his book of Fluxions ibid.
Discoveries contained in his Principia Mathematica 536
Commencement of his optical researches 545
Experiments on the decomposition oi light 545—6 & 631
Discovered that light was not changed by the colour
of the body reflecting it 547
Explained the phenomenon of the rainbow ibid.
Experiments to ascertain the cause of the permanent
colours of bodies ibid.
i!
INDEX.
705
P3ge.
Newton—Discovery of coloured rings by two object-glasses 548
Measurement of the thickness of the plates of air
through which the light was transmitted ibid.
Discovery of fits of easy transmission and easy re¬
flection 549
Explanation of refraction ibid.
Newtonian theory of light preferable to that of Huy¬
gens 550
Discovered, by means of light, important facts rela¬
tive to the constitution of bodies ibid.
Determined the inflammable nature of several bo¬
dies, as the diamond, by their powers of refrac¬
tion ibid.
These discoveries opposed by Hooke, Father Par-
dies, and others 551
Succeeded in constructing a telescope 552-3
His conclusions relative to the inflection of light 553
Views contained in his third book of Optics or Que¬
ries ibid.
Enumeration of the most remarkable of these 553-4
His optical works 554
His discovery of gravitation ibid.
First ascertained that the principle applied to the
moon 555
He discovered that the laws of Kepler completely
proved the principle 556
Conditions on which the law of gravity depends 557
Demonstrated as truth what was formerly merely
a conjecture 559
Causes of the irregularity of the moon’s motion 560
Determined the mean quantity of the retrograda-
tion of the line of the moon’s nodes ibid.
Ascertained that the earth must be an oblate sphe¬
roid 561
Precession of the equinoxes 562
His philosophy has received repeated improve¬
ments, all confirming its truth 563
His explanation of the tides 563-4
Showed, by the comet of 1680, that the orbits of
these bodies agree with the principle of gravity 565
Slow progress made by his doctrines 566
First taught in the universities of St Andrews and
Edinburgh 567
Progress of his philosophy in France ibid.
His speculations on the nature of gravity 568
Did not consider it as a property of matter ibid.
Comparison between him and Leibnitz 571
Progress of his philosophy in England and France 576-7
His mode of graduating the thermometer ' 641
His theory of the moon 663
Nieuwentyt, opposition to the geometry of Newton 533
Nitsch, F. A., his account of Kant’s views regarding
free will 196
Nizolius, Marius, his revolt against the authority of
Aristotle 25
Nollet, John Anthony,"sketch of his life and character 618
Nominalists and Realists 312
Norwood, measurement of an arc of the meridian by 502
Notation, Arabic, an acquisition from the East 440
Nuilibism, doctrine of, Note O 246
von. i.
O.
Page.
Observatories, astronomical, the establishment of 500
Ockham, William of, doctrines held by 310-12
Quotations from, on moral evil, Note F 419
Oerstedt of Copenhagen, improved Canton’s experiment
as to the compressibility of water 607
Experiment proving the identity of electricity with
magnetism 624
Optics; Euclid’s two propositions which laid the foun¬
dation of optics proper and catoptrics 504
The principles of that philosopher as to the magni¬
tude of bodies, and the place of any point of an
object seen by reflection ibid.
Recovered work of Ptolemy, its most valuable part
that on refraction ibid.
Alhazen, an Arabian writer, explained why the
heavenly bodies appear larger when near the ho¬
rizon 505
Aristotle’s definition of light ibid.
More correct notions of Epicurus ibid.
Burning mirrors of Archimedes 506
Work of Alhazen superior to that of Ptolemy ibid.
Commentary on the work by Vitello 507
Advancement made in optics by Roger Bacon ibid.
Probably knew the properties of lenses 508
Invention of spectacles ibid.
Maurolycus distinguished for his skill in optics ibid.
Considerable steps made by Baptista Porta ibid.
Invention of the camera obscura ibid.
Structure of the eye first analysed by Kepler 509
Discoveries relative to the rainbow ibid.
Dioptrics of Kepler 510
The true law of refraction discovered by Snellius 511
Descartes’ and Fermat’s theories of light 512
Discoveries of Descartes relative to refraction 512-13
James Gregory’s work, Optica Promota 513
Dr Barrow’s Lectures 514
Discovery of the diffraction of light ibid.
Huygens’ theory of light ibid.
His explanation of the double refraction of Ice¬
land crystal 515
Commencement of Newton’s researches 545
Means which led to the discovery of the different
refrangibility of the rays of light ibid.
Experiments by which he decomposed light 546
Importance of the science 630
Chief properties of light, reflection and refraction 631
Discoveries of Snellius, Descartes, Bradley, New¬
ton, Hadley, Gregory, Mayer, Borda, Euler,
and Holland 631-34
Attempts made by Dr Blair to improve the achro¬
matic telescope 635
Varieties of colour generated by three primary
ones ibid.
Discoveries of Fraunhofer 636
Experiments to ascertain the heating powers of
the rays of light ibid.
Discovery of Herschel, that the point of greatest
heat lies beyond the red ray ibid.
4 (X
706
INDEX.
Page.
Optics—Principles of the science applied by the French
to the improvement of light-houses 636
First notions of photometry given by Marie 637
Discovery of the polarization of light by Malus 638
Orbit, see Astronomy.
Oscillation, centre of, account of James Bernoulli’s ori¬
ginal mode of treating the problem respecting 603
Osymandias, circle of 500
P.
Paley, Dr, quotation from, concerning the merits of
Tucker’s writings 114
He disputed the existence of a moral faculty 225
His view of instinct 226
Attached himself to the opinions of Bishop Law ibid.
His views relative to a moral sense 298
Entitled to be ranked amongst the brightest orna¬
ments of the English church in the eighteenth
century 372
Did not owe his system to Hume ibid.
The frame of his mind fitted him for business ra¬
ther than philosophy ibid.
Character of his genius ibid.
Practical bent of his nature 373
His style near perfection in its kind ibid.
His Evidences formed out of Butler’s Analogy
and Lardner’s Credibility of the Gospel His¬
tory ibid.
Remarks on his Moral and Political Philosophy ibid.
His Natural Theology shows a knowledge of ana¬
tomy which places him amongst the first physio¬
logists ibid.
Peculiarities of his mind shown in his mode of treat¬
ing of happiness and virtue 374
His error in defining virtue ibid.
Erroneous views contained in his chapter on honour ibid.
He was occasionally a lax moralist 375
Remarks on his political and ecclesiastical views 376
Pallavicino, Cardinal, his History of the Council of
Trent, Note I 421
Papin, invention of his digester 654
Paracelsus, character of, by Le Clerc and Bacon 18
His application of chemistry to pharmacy confer¬
red a lasting benefit on the world 454
Parallax, lunar and solar, description and amount of 671-2
Pascal, the reputation of, rests chiefly on the Provin¬
cial Letters 31
Merits of that work 82
Character of his fragment entitled Thoughts on
Religion ibid.
Patriciate, Roman, character of 304
Patricius, Franciscus, works of 25
Pelitarius, a French mathematician, discoveries of 442
Pendulum, discoveries of Galileo and others respecting
the 476-9
Its vibrating slower at the equator, and explanation
by Newton and Huygens 503
Page-
Perception and emotion, difference between 329
Pergaeus, Apollonius, contributions of, to astronomy 482
Peripatetic school of philosophy, Melanchthon’s sanc¬
tion of its doctrines 16
Photometry, first notions of 687
Advanced by Bouguer 638
Lambert’s systematic treatise on ibid.
Physics, different meanings attached to the word 9-10
Should be confined to the phenomena of matter 10
Ancient physics; first attempts to unravel the mys¬
teries of nature necessarily feeble 449
The definition of motion, the first attempt to ex¬
plain phenomena 450
Definition of motion by Aristotle and Epicurus ibid.
Crude views of the ancients relative to the rise
and fall of bodies ibid.
Branch of mechanics in which the ancients made
important discoveries ibid.
Discoveries of Archimedes ibid.
Efforts made by the ancients in astronomy 451
Their progress impeded by the want of accurate
instruments ibid.
The true system of natural philosophy not knoivn
to the ancients 452
Notions of Anaxagoras, Empedocles, Democritus,
Plutarch, and the Chaldeans ibid.
Notions entertained by the ancients on comets ibid.
The system of ancient physics as a wdiole full of
error ibid.
Sense in which Dr Campbell employs the word 9
Modern physics; notions and theories of the first
experimenters in chemistry 453
Analysis of Bacon’s Novum Organon, see Bacon.
Astronomy, Mechanics, Optics, Dynamics, Hydro-
statics. Hydrodynamics, Pneumatics, Acoustics,
Magnetism, Electricity, and Heat; see these
heads.
Physiology, sense in which Dr Campbell employs the
word 9
Picard, Abbe, measurement of an arc of the meridian by 502
Planets, see Astronomy.
Pity one of the sources of benevolence 367
Plato, account of his system of optimism 126-7
Philosophy of 300-1
Playfair, Professor, remarks on his assertion that Gali¬
leo was the first who maintained the law of con¬
tinuity, Note D D 258
Plenum, Leibnitz’s theory of a, see Leibnitz.
Plutarch, the notion of centrifugal force implied in his
statement, that the moon’s motion prevents that
body from falling to the earth, as the motion of
a stone whirled round keeps it from falling to
the ground . 452
Pneumatics, invention of the air-pump 480
Experiments on the passage of air through pipes 610
Method of determining the relative density of any
gas
611
Observations on the escape of air and vapour
through an aperture ibid.
INDEX
707
Page.
Pneumatics—Experiments on the density of the air at
different heights 613
Explanation of Bouguer’s rule relative to the baro¬
metrical measurement of mountains 614
Experiments of Deluc and others ibid.
Polarization of light, discovery of, by Malus 638
Idea of, may be traced to Newton’s Optics ibid.
Poetry, definition of, by D’Alembert 4
By Bacon, see Bacon.
Political science, little advance made in, prior to the
seventeenth century 20
Economy, inadequacy of the term to express the
nature of the science 294
Pope of Rome, Aquinas on the power of, Note H 420
Pope, Alexander, mistake of, concerning the dogma of
necessity 128
His censure of Newton and Clarke relative to their
reasoning on the existence of a deity 140, 146
Spinozism and Pantheism, with which he charged
Clarke, brought against himself 147
His veneration for Berkeley 163
Porta, Baptista, made a considerable step in optical dis¬
covery 508
Invented the camera obscura ibid.
Popularity of his work Mag'ia Naturalis 509
Praise, the love of 382
Its existence proves the power of disinterested desire ibid.
Price, Richard, notice of his work on the Principal
Questions in Morals 361
Considered the understanding as an independent
source of simple ideas 3 62
Does not explain the independence of the con¬
science over the will ibid.
Priestley, Dr, his views respecting the soul 57-8
Prior, Mathew, passage from his Alma as to the seat of
the soul 69
Prince, Machiavelli’s, a favourite with sovereigns 23
Printing, benefits resulting from the invention of 17
Revolution in the republic of letters 18
Probabilities, calculation of 223
Ptolemy, the epicycles necessary in the ancient system
of astronomy 482
Language in which he speaks of them 483
His recovered work on optics 504
Merits of the work ibid.
Improvements made by, in arithmetic 587
Puffendorff the most noted follower of Grotius 88
Pump, air, invention of, by Otto Guericke 480
Improvements made on, by Robert Boyle 481
Punishment, reformatory, see Bentham.
Purbach contributed to advance astronomy 484
Pyrometer, invention of 646
Pyroscope, description of 653
Q.
Quantities, infinitely great and small, the idea of, first
introduced into geometry by Kepler 438
Page.
Quesnai, M. observations of, concerning the vibrations
of the nerves
Quicksilver, first discovery of the congelation of 643
R.
Rainbow, method by which its nature was ascertained 472
Speculations of Maurolycus respecting it 509
Discovery of Antonio de Dominis ibid.
Ramsden simplified the quadrant and sextant by his di¬
viding engine 633
Ramus, talents and accomplishments of, as a writer 30
Raynal on the effects produced by the discovery of Ame¬
rica, and the passage to India by the Cape of
Good Hope 19
Raynouard, M, remarks of, concerning language 176
Realists, see Ethics.
Reason, sufficient, of Leibnitz, see Leibnitz.
Extension of the term to the moral faculties 331
Recorde, Robert, introduced into algebra the sign of
tequality now in use 442
Sketch of his life 592
Reflection, clear perception of, by Descartes 57
The last faculty of the mind which unfolds itself 58
Locke’s views regarding ideas resulting from 110-12
Use which Locke makes of the term, Note Y 253
Definition of, by La Harpe 116
Reformation, the Protestant, a consequence of the re-
vival of letters 15
Refraction, discovery of the true law of, by Snellius 511
See also Optics.
Regiomontanus advanced mathematics by his works 435
Introduced trigonometry and decimal fractions ibid.
Contributed to the progress of astronomy 484
Refrangibility of light, observations on 632
Reid, Dr, ambiguity of a passage in his Inquiry, rela¬
tive to colour 66
Sense in which he used the word suggestion 167
Great object of his Inquiry into the Human Mind 218
Rested his chief merit on this ibid.
Dr Adam Ferguson’s encomium on his works 219
Merits of his Essays on the Intellectual and on the
Active Powers of Man 222
Unfortunate in his choice of the terms common sense
and instinct 387
Reinhold, M. his opinion of Kant’s principle called
practical reason 198
His reasons why Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason
made so great an impression in Germany ibid.
Remorse, see Ethics.
Rhetoric, Aristotle on the principles of 54
Riccioli, an useful astronomical writer, but without much
originality 495
An enemy of the Copernican system ibid.
Probable cause of his opposition 495
Right and wrong, see Ethics.
Roherval, originality and mathematical genius of 439
Claimed the discovery of the area of the cycloid ibid.
708
INDEX.
Page.
lloberval improved the method of quadratures 4by
Robins, Benjamin, sketch of his life, writings, and con¬
tributions to mathematics (101
Method which he employed to determine the im¬
pulse of balls fi 10
His remarks on Leibnitz’s law of continuity 133
Rochefoucauld, La, influence of his writings 54
Voltaire’s and Johnson’s opinion of ibid.
Manner in which he polished his writings ibid.
The tendency of his maxims unfavourable to morality ibid.
Excellent private character of 55
Narrow sphere in which he studied mankind ibid.
His writings tended to vitiate the tone of French
philosophy ibid.
Reasons why the name of, should be united with
that of Montaigne ibid.
Effects of his maxims on the higher orders 56
Roemer, Olaus, discovered that light takes a certain
time to travel to the earth 498
Rolle, objections of, to the differential calculus 534
Rome, the church of, we are indebted to, for much of
what we now enjoy 14
Its most objectionable tenet opposing revelation to
reason 21
Romilly, Sir Samuel, character of 378
Rousseau, M. concerning the origin and history of lan¬
guage 174
Estimate of the merits of Emik 184
Roy, General, experiments of, on the barometrical mea¬
surement of mountains 614
Rutherford, Dr, construction of the simplest and most
commodious register thermometer 647
S.
Sage, M. le, remarks of, on gravitation 133
Sanctorio of Padua, his invention of the thermometer 640
Sanderson, Nicholas, account of his life and writings 597
Sanscrit language, an account of 204
Saturn, planet of, see Astronomy.
Suard, M. his character of Corneille 135
Sceptic, description of, by Bishop Earle 51
Scheele, experiments of, on heat 646
Schelling, notice of his system of philosophy 200-1
Schlegel, Frederick, remarks on his writings 214
Scholium, Sir Isaac Newton’s, remarks on a passage in,
relative to the existence of a Deity 140
Schoolmen, ethical philosophy of the, see Ethics.
Sciences, classification of, by Bacon and D’Alembert 1-8
Classification of, by Locke 8
Scotland, reasons why no great writer appeared there
in the age of Locke 105
Manner in which the youth of, were formerly edu¬
cated, Note S 249
Rise and progress of the metaphysical philosophy
of, and writers on that subject; Hutcheson, Bax¬
ter, Hume, Reid, Campbell, Karnes, and Beattie.
See these heads.
Pago.
Scotland, authors belonging to, who wrote on metaphy¬
sics prior to the union of the crowns, Note B B B 284
Merits of the works of Scottish metaphysicians 220
Their contributions to philosophy 222
Most popular objection made to them 224
Scotus, account of his doctrines 309
He acquiesced in the Augustinian doctrine, Note D 418
Scriblerus, Martinus, the authors of 242
Sebonde, Raimond de, Montaigne’s apology for 51
Principles of his Theologia Naturalis 52
Grotius’s and Turnebus’s opinions of ibid.
Segner, professor at Gottingen, original principle ex¬
pounded by 604
Gave a solution of the property of capillary attrac¬
tion 615
Self, love of, the desire of a man’s own happiness 344
Significations assigned to, by Hartley, Note W 429
Seneca, philosophical remarks of, regarding comets 452
Sensation and reflection, Locke concerning ideas which
result from 110-12
Sense, common, signification of the term 387
Shaftesbury, Lord, his attack upon Locke concerning the
theory of innate ideas l lg
No essential difference between his sentiments and
those of Locke ibid.
England indebted to him for the Habeas Corpus act 332
Fluctuations in public opinion regarding the me¬
rits of the Characteristics ibid.
This work applauded by Leibnitz and Le Clerc ibid.
Merits and defects of, as a writer 332-3
Character of the Moralists 333
His Inquiry concerning Virtue ibid.
Original ethical views of which he gave some inti¬
mations 334
His demonstration of the utility of virtue to the
individual ibid.
Shenstone, judicious reflections of 119
Signs, or written characters, remarks relative to 66-7
Siiurus Electricus, vivid electrical sparks drawn from 622
Simpson solved several questions of physical astronomy
with much neatness 573
Simson, Dr Robert, attainments of, in mathematics 582
Sketch of his life and character ibid.
Sismondi, M. Simonde de, his opinion of Machiavelli’s
views in writing the Prince, Note C 234
Smith, Dr Adam, superiority of his theoretical history
of philosophy to that of D’Alembert and others 3
Remark of his respecting the ancient Greek phi¬
losophy 9
Citation from, on the Law of Nations 91
Also on French metaphysical writers 172
His dissertation on language 175-6
Immediate and irrevocable change effected by his
work on the Wealth of Nations 358
Merits 0f his work entitled Theory of the Moral
Sentiments ibid.
Character of his style ibid.
Was the first who drew the attention of philoso¬
phers to the workings of sympathy 359
Merits and defects of his theory of sympathy 360-61
INDEX.
709
Page.
Smith, John, of Cambridge, on the immortality of the
soul 58
Passages from, illustrative of the Cartesian philoso¬
phy of mind 61
Snellius of Holland the first who measured with any
degree of accuracy an arc of the meridian 502
Discovered the true law of refraction 511, 631
Explanation of the law 511
Societies, learned, advantages to be derived from 48
Society, Royal, establishment and influence of 47
Socrates, his peculiar method of reasoning 17
Answer given by, to those who maintained that the
superiority of the soul of man to that of a brute
arises from superior organization 180
A teacher of virtue rather than a searcher after truth 300
Solids, see Geometry.
Sorcery, sagacity displayed by Malebranche in his ob¬
servations concerning 75
Soto, Dominic, a Spaniard, the first writer who condemn¬
ed the African slave trade 314
Soul, the nature and essence of 57
Presumption of its immortality afforded by study¬
ing the analogy of the laws of nature 58
Argument of Addison for the immortality of 162
Futility of the attempts to assimilate to each other
the faculties of men and those of brutes 179-81
Space and time, Clarke’s, Leibnitz’s, and D’Alembert’s
views regarding the nature of 142
Kant’s notions respecting 195
See also Note Y Y 280
Spain, writers on ethics belonging to 314
Spectacles, invention of 508
Spinoza, account of his origin 144
Fonlenelle’s opinion of his system of philosophy 145
His doctrines, in their practical tendency, the same
as atheism ibid.
Points on which he has been misunderstood ibid.
Coincidence of his principles of government with
those of Hobbes 146
Tendency of his speculations to degrade human na¬
ture ibid.
Account of his private life and character, Note L L 264
Sprat, Dr, his estimate of Bacon’s genius, Note F 241
Stael, Madame de, her remarks on the literary life of
Voltaire, and the French philosophy of the eigh¬
teenth century, Note U U 277
Her account of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason ISO
Mistakes of^ respecting the philosophy of Locke
and Leibnitz ibid.
Her account of Fichte’s system of philosophy re¬
lative to the pronoun I 200
Stair, Lord, quotation from, regi'etting the reception
which the doctrines of Spinoza and Hobbes had
met with 105
Notice of his Physiologia Nova Experimentalise Note
B B B 285
Statics, principles on which the science depends 605
Stephilius, or Stifels, notice of his mathematical attain¬
ments ' 4^2
Account of his life and inventions 591
Page.
Stereometry, notice of a tract on, by Kepler 438
Stevinus, or Stevin, an engineer of the Low Countries 474
Discovered that the pressure of fluids is according
to their depth 480
Was the first who introduced the practice of deci¬
mal fractions 587
Reduced statics and hydrostatics to their simplest
principles 592
Stewart, Dugald, his parentage and early studies 386
Purity and elevated morality of his lectures ibid.
His great merits as a lecturer 387
Embraced the philosophy of Dr Reid ibid.
Amidst excellences of the highest order, his writ¬
ings afford room for criticism 388
Multiplies his illustrations to excess 389
Possessed a peculiar susceptibility and purity of taste ibid.
Singular felicity of his style ibid.
His works pervaded by philosophical benevolence ibid.
He modestly concealed his reforms of Reid’s doc¬
trines 890
Quotations from, on the associations of ideas ibid.
Remarks on his opinions as to the moral sense, and
the origin of the affections ibid.
Estimate of the merits of his Elements 392
In essays of this kind he excelled most other writers ibid.
His abstinence from metaphysical speculation did
not arise from inability to grapple with its most
abstruse questions ibid.
Merits of his Outlines of Moral Philosophy ibid.
His Ethical Theory contains much original specu¬
lation, though studiously concealed ibid.
He blended the inquiry into the nature of moral
sentiments, with the power which discriminates
between moral and immoral feeling 393
His Dissertation on the History of Philosophy the
most profusely ornamented of his compositions ibid.
Philosophic serenity of the last years of his life 394
Stewart, Dr Matthew, sketch of his life and character 582
Possessed uncommon powers of invention as a ma¬
thematician ibid.
Completed the Newtonian theory of the moon 664
Stirling, account of his life and writings 595
Stoics and Epicureans 302
Notice of the most celebrated 303
Evils which resulted from their attempts to sti’etch
their system beyond the limits of nature 304
Substance, mistaken application of the word, Note I 242
Suggestion, as employed by Drs Reid and Berkeley 167
And by Dr Thomas Brown 400
Sydenham, Dr, praise bestowed by Locke upon bis work
on the History and Cure of Acute Diseases 101
Sympathy, Adam Smith’s theory regarding this moral
sentiment 359-60
T.
Tartalea, discovery of, in algebra
Taylor, Brook, account of a new branch which he added
to the analysis of variable quantity
710
INDEX.
Page.
Taylor, Brook, more remarkable for the ingenuity and
depth than for the perspicuity of his writings 532
Celebrity of the theorem known by his name ibid.
Sketch of his life and character 598
The only mathematician after Newton who could
enter the lists with the Bernoullis 599
His experiments on capillary attraction 615
Telescope, the discovery of, contributed to advance the
sciences 19
An account of the construction of, by Galileo 490
Advantages arising from its application to astrono¬
mical instruments 497
An account of its discovery 510
Law on which its construction depends discovered
by Snellius 631
Theatre, idols of, see Bacon, Lord.
Thermometer, the invention of, laid the foundation of
many discoveries relative to heat 544
Sanctorio, the inventor 640
Air thermometer, invention of ibid.
Description of metallic and register thermometers 647
Invention of the differential thermometer ibid.
Used to ascertain the mode of the propagation of
heat amongst different bodies 651
Thomas, M. his Eloge de Descartes, Note K 243
See also Note P 247
Tides, explanation of, by Newton 563
Discussions respecting the earth’s figure led to an
examination of the theory of 662
Theory of, stated 662-3
Time, views of philosophers regarding the nature of 142
Tooke, Horne, his etymological riddles deduced from
false principles 61
Torelli, sketch of his life and character 581
Torpedo, its benumbing power dependent on electri¬
city 622
Torricelli, claim of, to the discovery of the area of the
cycloid 439
Discovered a remarkable property of the centre of
gravity, and a principle connected with the equi¬
librium of bodies 477
Discovery of the first principle of hydraulics, of the
pressure of the atmosphere, and the thermometer 480
Transubstantiation, Gibbon’s argument against the doc¬
trine of 154
Tree, Encyclopsediacal, of D’Alembert 3
Trent, council of, remarks on the debates which took
place in the first assembly of, Note I 421
Tribe, idols of, see Bacon, Lord.
Trigonometry originated among the Arabians, and was
introduced into Europe by Regiomontanus 435
Improvement made in, during the last century 585
Truth, remarks concerning the progress of 120
Tucker, Abraham, Dr Paley’s opinion of the merits of
his writings 114
Character of his mind 370
Somewhat resembled Montaigne 371
Wrote more to please himself than the public ibid.
His superiority consists in mixed, not in pure phi¬
losophy ibid.
Page.
Tucker, Abraham, borrowed from Hartley in relation
to the intellect, and concealed his offence by
changing the technical terms 371
Slid unawares into selfishness 372
The neglect of his writings shows a want of taste
for metaphysics ibid.
Turgot, M., meaning attached by, to the word physics 9
u.
Ubaldi, Guido, an Italian, the first who surpassed Ar-
chimedesin mechanical science 474
Usury, argument of Calvin respecting, Note B 233
Bentham’s tract on, see Bentham.
Utility, the principle of, proclaimed by Mr Bentham
with the Seal of a discoverer 373
Fully discussed in Hume’s works, Note V 429
See also Ethics.
Variations and differentials, distinction between 600
See also Geometry, New.
Vauvenargues, the Marquis de, notice of his life and
writings 184
Vega, mathematical talents of 584
Velocities, virtual and actual, the principle of, enun¬
ciated 535
Vieta, a learned mathematician, the first who employ¬
ed letters to denote known as well as unknown
quantities 442
Discoveries of, and improvements made by, in tri¬
gonometry 442-3
Virtue, see Ethics.
Vision, observations on the new theory of 65
Refutation of a fallacy contained in Dr Berkeley’s
work on, Note M 244
Chief aim of Berkeley’s work 164
Misapprehensions of the ancients on this subject ibid.
Voltaire’s explanation of 165
Progress made by philosophers previously to Berke¬
ley’s time 167
Vives, Ludovicus, character of 15
The ancients and moderns compared by 30
Viviani. a disciple of Galileo, success of, in supplying
a lost book of Apollonius 580
Volta, Alexander, sketch of his life 621
His invention of the pile known by his name, a new
epoch in physical science 623
Voltaire, M. his estimate of Montaigne’s talents 53
The first who assigned La Rochefoucauld his proper
station amongst the French classics 54
Quotation from, respecting innate ideas, Note X 251
Clearly understood Berkeley’s theory of vision 165
Madame de Stael’s division of his literary life into
two epochs, Note U U 277
Quotations showing that he advocated liberty at one
time and fatalism at another 278
INDEX
711
Page.
Voltaire took a part in the controversy respecting the
force of a moving body 540
Proved instrumental in establishing the Newtonian
philosophy in France 577
Vortices of Descartes 494
See also Descartes.
W.
Wallis, account of his Arithmetic of Infinites 518
Was the first who founded a system of statics on the
quality of the opposite momenta 535
Account of his life and writings 589
Walmesley completed the Newtonian theory of the
moon 664
Sketch of his life ibid.
Walsh proved that the benumbing power of the torpedo
depended on electricity 622
War, civil, of 1G40, influence of, on the intellectual cha¬
racter of the country 48
Warburton, Dr his opinion of Malebranche’s talents 80
Instance of his hostility to Dr Clarke 146
Ward, Bishop, astronomical system of 495
Waring, Edward, account of his life and writings 596
Water, compressibility of, first determined by Canton 607
Oerstedt’s improvement of his method ibid.
Wedge wood, Mr, his contrivance of a pyrometer 647
Werner, contributions of, to mathematics 436
Page.
Wheeler and Gray, their accidental discovery of the
conducting and non-conducting powers of bodies 544
Wilcke of Stockholm, his experiments on the distribu¬
tion of heat 645
Wilkins, Dr, treatises of, on an universal language and
a real character, of small value 46
Will, free, Locke’s argument in favour of 143
St Augustin’s and Descartes’s assertion of the liber¬
ty of, Note M M 267
Kant’s and Galiani’s arguments for 196-7
Willich, A. F. M. his account of Kant’s philosophy 191
Wolfius, the disciple of Leibnitz, merits of, as a philo¬
sopher and writer ] 88
Futile attempts of, to introduce the philosophy he
taught into France ibid.
Vague speculations of, regarding heat 642
Writing, fine, Addison’s definition of 162
Y.
Young, Dr Thomas, gave a complete solution of the
principle of capillary attraction 616
Character of, as a philosopher ibid.
Z.
Zeno, character and philosophy of 303
See also Ethical Philosophy.
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